by Kendra Szabo on MAY 26, 2015 in STORIES, WORLD POVERTY

When I found out that I was going on a work trip with Food for the Hungry (FH), I was beyond thrilled. I know that FH goes to the hard places, and the thought of that excited me, but I didn’t really have any idea what that would entail.

We left Wednesday morning at 7:55 a.m. and flew on an airplane for a full 24 hours of flight time: Phoenix to Chicago, Chicago to Hong Kong, Hong Kong to Dhaka, Bangladesh. Once we arrived in Dhaka it was a two hour drive to the city port, an 11 hour ferry ride, an hour and a half drive, a 10 minute rickshaw ride and a thirty minute walk to the family’s house where I would conduct my first interview and take photos.

Then after the first full day of shooting, I got sick. My first thought was shame and embarrassment because I knew I wouldn’t be useful to my team. I would have to stay back at the guesthouse and rest and would not be able to conduct more interviews or take more photos that day.

My team was greatly understanding and compassionate. My boss, Beth, prayed for me and made sure I would have food I could eat at the house. The Country Director, Tim, gave me antibiotics and called for an employee to stay with me during the day since the guesthouse workers did not speak English.

Immediately after my team departed, I fell back asleep. Razia, the FH employee who was sent to care for me, awakened me several hours later. She had with her water and food. She was unafraid of being around me while I was sick. Instead of sitting outside my room, she climbed right onto my bed.

Though she didn’t know much English we spent our day getting to know one another whenever I was awake and not working on editing photos or writing blog posts.

She told me about her two children and her husband of 13 years. We exchanged the family photos we had on our phones and the photos of our houses. She asked me about living in America and told me about living in Bangladesh. We discussed climates and culture, technology and food.

We talked together and we ate together, but mostly we just sat together: her at the foot of my bed, while I dozed in and out of sleep.

By the time she departed in the afternoon my condition had improved. She apologized for her broken English and I apologized for my recurring napping. We exchanged laughs about the day and struggled to say goodbye.

My room was empty now, the golden glow of dusk the only thing filling my room beside myself. Reflecting upon the day I realized—sometimes God can use sickness and turn it into the perfect oasis of peace. Her company was the perfect reminder that sometimes when you go to the hard places, it’s not the hustle and bustle and busy itineraries, but in the stillness that you really meet the Lord.