About the Program
A Voice found in Guatemala
This year, I had the honor of serving as a trip coordinator. Not an easy task to say the least, and honestly I only saw a fraction of the work that goes behind being a trip coordinator. After months of preparation, having zoom meetings, coordinating with a group of 20 people across 13 states, and organizing a weeklong medical trip in a different country, I learned how much patience and flexibility the role required.
When I got the phone call from Dr. Lauri asking if I would take on this position I was in utter disbelief. I questioned what she saw in me, a 21 year old, at the time in my senior year, and with little medical experience, that made her believe I would be capable of this. I would typically consider myself a very shy, quiet, and timid person. Anxiety has often made it difficult for me to even speak in front of a room full of people, let alone lead one. Yet I agreed and was incredibly grateful for the opportunity. As the months went on, I was supported by the entire Guatemala team and felt very prepared and genuinely excited for this trip, until about two weeks before leaving. The anxiety hit and I began to tell myself that I had no business going, let alone serving as a trip coordinator. I had what's often called imposter syndrome and I felt like I had been wearing a mask of confidence that would inevitably fall. The closer the days got to leaving my excitement slowly gave way to anxiousness which was really hard for me because I knew that this was such a special opportunity that I wanted so badly to be excited for.
When I finally got to meet all the alumni and medical team that I hadn’t met in person before, some of my anxiety left. I realized they weren’t as scary and intimidating as I had convinced myself they were. But I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself, I knew that the real work was yet to come. The first day of the clinic, anything that could go wrong did. Every preparation and schedule we had spent months preparing for went straight out the window and it was time for fast on the go thinking. There were times that I had to take initiative, when I had to speak up, times when I had to simply go with the flow, and countless times that I had to step outside of my comfort zone. It was stressful and I found myself criticizing and second guessing everything I was doing. Then everything settled for just a moment. I paused and looked around and I was amazed. I had forgotten all about the beauty of La Ciudad de la Esperanza, I had forgotten about all the faces filled with hope, the incredible strength of the people, and the families who carried unimaginable burdens while still showing up with resilience and gratitude. I had lost sight of the bigger picture. Suddenly all of the chaos, the anxiety, and the stress seemed so small, so minute, and so incredibly worth it.
It was as if an internal switch had flipped, I found myself speaking louder, becoming more assertive, more confident, and less afraid of the unknown. For the first time I truly felt like I had found my voice.
For Edwin Adolfo and Edwin Aberlado, 10 year old twin males with a history of cerebral palsy and meningitis, I found my voice. For their mother who’s a recent widow with 5 children making less than $50 a year, I found my voice. For Dana Sofia, a 3 year old female with bilateral below the knee amputations whose resilience and joy inspired everyone around her, I found my voice. For Ramiro, who lives with severe rheumatoid arthritis and traveled 6 hours on a bus just to receive medical care, I found my voice. For Cesar, who lives with frequent gout flare ups, hypertension, esophagitis, yet who always has a smile on his face, I found my voice. And for every person with limited resources, few options, and the constant uncertainty of what tomorrow may bring, I found my voice.
I am beyond blessed to be able to have the opportunities that I do, to be surrounded by people who support and believe in me, and this trip showed me that I cannot be afraid to use those blessings to advocate for those who don’t have the same opportunities. I didn't find my voice because I stopped being afraid, I found it because the people I was serving mattered more than my fears.
Once again I leave Cobán, Guatemala feeling more complete than I did when I arrived. I boarded the plane wondering whether I deserved to be there and I left knowing that the greatest privilege was discovering how to use my voice to serve others.
As I continue my journey toward becoming a physician I know there will be moments when I’ll feel unprepared, overwhelmed, and incapable, but now I’ll always have this experience to look back on. I’ll remember the people of Cobán who reminded me that medicine isn’t about having every answer, it's about showing up with compassion and a willingness to serve.
- Alexxis Munoz
Spreading the Power of Knowledge
Three years ago, I first came to Guatemala and witnessed the magic of Ciudad de la Esperanza. I remember the awe I felt watching each member of team treat even the most complex patients with confidence and ease. As an aspiring student of medicine, I knew I wanted to be just like each member of our team. I wanted to be like the nurses who lead with efficiency and order. I wanted to be like the incredibly creative PTs who push their patients to achieve their dreams. I wanted to be like the pharmacist who thrives in patient education and precision. I wanted to be like the dentist who can persevere through the toughest of cases. And, most of all, I wanted to be like the amazing doctors that can treat their patients complex history with a well crafted history and physical exam. As a health care provider, I am able to equip someone with knowledge that can truly change their life and allow them to live longer on this amazing earth. There is nothing more valuable. Education is a true gift and it is a gift that can change a life.
In Guatemala, people come to our clinic searching for information. Each of them wanting to learn about their bodies and how to make themselves, and their family’s, lives better. It’s an exciting opportunity to meet a person eager for knowledge, growth, and positive change.
- Logan Taylor, PA-S
The Face of God
The last few years I have gotten to know Laurel Petralia, the senior director of advancement at Regis. She has helped me with grant writing for the Guatemala program. Sometimes when I tell people about the Guatemala program I can tell right away if they "get it” or not. Well, Laurel “got it” from the beginning. She has never wavered and has been a strong supporter of the program for a few years. Knowing that you really don’t know the full depth of this experience until you actually come to Guatemala and the clinic, I realized her support lived in her head, but maybe not in her heart. So, when we were putting together the alumni trip participants last fall and I knew we were going to do a public health project (the community needs assessment), I knew that this trip would contain some team members who didn’t necessarily have clinical skills, but would nonetheless be very valuable members of a “public health pod” for this trip. So, I asked Laurel last fall if she wanted to come on the alumni trip. She did not hesitate in her yes.
She told me a few days ago that in talking with her spiritual advisor before coming on the trip he had asked her to think about where she could see the face of God on her trip. After a few days of being in Guatemala she told me about that missive from her spiritual advisor and how she was finding it hard to answer that question. To her, I think she was struggling with how hard life is here and how people can see God in that struggle.
Last Thursday night Padre Sergio, the Guatemalan priest who founded this whole community, took the core medical team members (Stephanie Ibemere, Eric Bertelsen, Richard Walter, and myself, along with Laurel) out to an amazing dinner at a 5 star, world renowned restaurant, about 30 minutes outside of Cobán. The meal was amazing but it was the company and conversation I will not forget. Padre is a busy person and often when we are there with the Regis team he is not in town or in the country. So, to have a whole evening to just spend with him was a unique opportunity. At one point Laurel told him about the missive from her spiritual director and how she had been struggling to find the face of God due to the intense pressures put on people by poverty. She asked Padre where he found the face of god, and he hesitated, then the twinkle came to his eyes. He has the same twinkle that Dr Richard is famous for on our team. He began to tell the story of before the school was built. He would go and feed the children living near the landfill and play soccer with them. He distinctly remembers seeing a little boy who was about 2 and had a dirty face. Padre bent down to clean his face and the two locked eyes and it was as clear as anything to him that he was, at that moment, looking at the face of God.
When we are born, our first instinct is to find a face. The blinking infant is searching for something to bond. Any parent who looks upon their child’s face for the first time, knows this feeling. The most important, and formative thing a parent can do for a baby is to gaze into their face, and engage the eyes. God, who is the giver of faces, shows us divinity in one another’s faces. It is so easy for me to see that in Guatemala. I have been blessed to look into so many peoples’ eyes in this community and see the face of God. I think Laurel has now experienced that herself in this community.
Lauri Pramuk, MD
Love in Action
There is something incredibly special about being part of a group of people from different backgrounds and different corners of the world who come together to create something rooted in love—love for one another, love for humanity, love for equality, and love for the world.
As I sit here reflecting on my time in Cobán, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.
When Dr. Lauri called to ask if I would like to be part of this year's alumni team, I was overjoyed. My first experience in Guatemala four years ago changed who I was—not only as a nurse, but as a person. Returning this time as an ICU nurse with years of additional experience felt different, yet in many ways remarkably familiar. The people of Cobán—both those I met for the first time and those I had the privilege of caring for years ago—once again shook me to my core. They reminded me why we do what we do and how essential it is to protect the passion that first called us into healthcare.
One of the greatest gifts of this trip was witnessing the progress this community has made over the past four years. I was able to reconnect with patients I had cared for previously and see them healthier, stronger, and filled with hope.
One moment, in particular, will stay with me forever. The elderly man who had adopted the two orphaned boys I met in 2022 returned to the clinic this year. The boys had grown so much. They were smiling, healthy, attending school, eating regular meals, and receiving healthcare through the clinic. Seeing them thriving was a reminder that meaningful change often happens quietly, one family and one life at a time.
Another moment that I know I will carry with me forever was meeting a little girl named Sofia, who was born with amniotic band syndrome. Her family traveled six hours to reach us, accompanied by a family friend who volunteered to make the journey with them. That alone spoke volumes about the kind of community that exists in Guatemala—one where people willingly carry one another's burdens simply because they can.
Our team had the privilege of fitting Sofia with 3D-printed prosthetics, and for the first time in her life, she stood and walked.
There are moments in healthcare that remind you exactly why you chose this profession, and this was one of them. The joy on Sofia's face was unforgettable, but what moved me even more was watching her family. Her parents, brother, and family friend watched with tears, smiles, and overwhelming pride as she took those first steps. It was impossible not to share in their joy.
Watching an entire room celebrate something many of us take for granted was a powerful reminder that hope often begins with people choosing to care. It wasn't just Sofia who took her first steps that day—everyone in that room walked away believing a little more in what is possible when compassion, innovation, and community come together.
Every person I encountered—whether in triage, with Dr. Lauri, Dr. Richard, or during physical therapy—showed us extraordinary kindness. They wanted us to succeed, even though we were there believing we were the ones helping them.
Although my Spanish is still embarrassingly limited, every conversation became a lesson in how much can be communicated without perfect words. Every patient met my mistakes with patience, encouragement, and grace. The people of Cobán embody resilience, kindness, and strength in ways that continue to inspire me.
This year we were also asked to share the knowledge we have gained in our respective fields with the community. It was an honor to prepare educational presentations for the people of La Ciudad de la Esperanza. Watching my colleagues teach was just as meaningful as teaching myself. Our audiences were engaged, curious, and eager to learn, and our team responded with remarkable adaptability, creativity, flexibility, and compassion. I left with peace knowing that when we all return home, each of us will continue spreading that knowledge, compassion, and hope wherever life takes us.
Dr. Richard reminded me of the profound impact that simply slowing down and truly listening can have on someone's life. Patients return to him year after year because, in one way or another, they believe he saved them. His compassion, love of teaching, gift for storytelling, and ability to make every person feel heard are qualities I deeply admire. I hope to carry even a small piece of what he demonstrates every day into my own practice.
Dr. Lauri has shown me what is possible when someone transforms passion into purpose and inspires others to do the same. She has instilled in me a love for teaching and for sharing knowledge with those around me. Thank you, Lauri, for helping shape not only the nurse I have become, but the person I continue to strive to be.
Stephanie amazed me with her ability to connect with every single person she met. She is not only an exceptional nurse but an incredibly strong and compassionate human being. I hope that one day I can make people feel as seen and cared for as she does.
I learned something from every member of our team. Whether it was Eric's empathy and unwavering dedication or Alysa's remarkable ability to fully engage every person she worked with while making even the hardest work joyful, each person left an impression on me that I will carry forward. Thank you to everyone I had the privilege of serving alongside. I am deeply grateful and endlessly inspired by each of you.
As Juan Pablo reminded us, I will carry with me the small part of heaven we found in Cobán and do my best to spread that love everywhere I go.
We travel to Cobán believing we are bringing our knowledge, our skills, and our expertise. Yet year after year, we are the ones who leave having received far more than we could ever give.
Kara Rodeheaver, BSN, RN, CCRN
How Lucky Am I?
I grew up in Centennial, Colorado, in a house where I had my own room and bathroom and a big backyard. I spent weekends playing soccer, traveling all over the place for tournaments, going out to restaurants, shopping, and even going on vacations with my family. I saw the dentist every six months and my primary care doctor every year. If I ever got sick, it was just a five-minute drive to see my doctor, where I got the care and medications that I needed. I never had to wonder if my family could afford medications or if I would be able to see a doctor. It was an expectation and to me, this was simply normal. Looking back, I realize this was a form of wealth.
Coming to Guatemala has reminded me that while I have been fortunate to grow up with access to healthcare, education, and financial resources, those advantages are not the only measures of a fulfilling life. Most of the families we met face significant barriers to medical care and live with far fewer resources than I do. Yet despite these challenges, they demonstrated an extraordinary sense of community, generosity, and faith.
During my time in Guatemala, I had the same feeling that I experienced two years ago. I was struck by how much people in this community rely on each other and how much they do for their friends and family. I met a 9 year old boy who carried his little sister on his back and walked a very long distance to get to our clinic. At just nine years old, he already accepted responsibilities that many children never have to face. I met Sophia, whose neighbor traveled five hours just to support her and her family during her clinic visit. I also met Cesar, a patient with severe gout, who was sharing his medications with his brother because he wanted him to get better too.
These experiences revealed a level of selflessness and commitment to one another that left a lasting impression on me. While strong communities certainly exist in the United States, I believe our culture often places greater emphasis on independence and individual success. In Guatemala, I witnessed a community where people consistently showed up for one another, even when they had very little themselves.
Witnessing this challenged my own assumptions about what it means to be “rich.” While I have been blessed with opportunities and resources, I realized that strong relationships, compassion, faith, and a supportive community are forms of wealth that cannot be measured financially.
This experience once again reminded me not to take the healthcare and resources that I have for granted. It also showed me how important relationships and community truly are. Sometimes those qualities provide healing in ways that medicine cannot.
- Jillian, BSN, RN







