Ovidio’s Big Visit Guatemalan Teenager Had Non-Stop Fun During Long Wait For Surgery To Repair Foot

The green hills of Guatemala wait in the back of Ovidio Lopez Cordova’s mind.

For now, this 19 year old wants to take in everything American, everything about Spokane:

Pizza. Candy. Driving cars. Snow.

Four short days from now, he’ll return to the mountains where his family’s clay house nestles, five hours north of Guatemala City. He’ll go back to those hills and winding dirt roads, upon which he used to drag his left club foot - a birth defect never cured.

He’ll be back to a home where there is no electricity, to the four beds that cradle 12 children and a mother and father, and back to the dirt bedroom floor that sometimes cradled his head at night.

Those memories have been tucked behind the comfort of suburban Valley life, behind microwaves and minivans. For eight months, Valley nurse anesthetists Chris and Bill Peterson have given him a home here.

In November 1996, the husband and wife team, both nurses who administer anesthetics during surgeries, met Lopez on their first trip to the Third World. They traveled as part of a Healing the Children team performing orthopedic, plastic and neuro- surgeries.

In the barren corridors of Antigua’s hospital where they worked, a small 18-year-old boy stood outside the operating rooms. He was timid, petit and knew no English. He wanted his club foot fixed.

But American doctors told the boy they could perform the surgery that would straighten his foot only in the United States.

So the Petersons opened their home to Lopez. Much later they discovered how much they would open their hearts.

“If every American went down there and had to see this for two weeks, the American priorities would change,” Bill said. “Our priorities are all wrong. There are people starving to death… until you really see it, you don’t understand.”

They didn’t either.

At 5 p.m. the winter night sky settles upon the Valley. Christmas light icicles still hang below suburban eves. It’s something Lopez could never see living in his village outside of El Chol, Guatemala - electricity and the blanket of snow.

He sits in the passenger seat of the Petersons’ minivan as Chris drives across new asphalt roads, past new sidewalks and curbs.

In Guatemala, his family walks. They live only six miles outside of El Chol. With a car, it would take 45 minutes to travel the winding dirt roads.

It’s been eight months now, and Lopez, who only knew “hello”, “goodbye” and how to count in English, can drive the car on his own.

After two weeks of studying and five tries for his license, he proudly shows off the small laminated card.

Ovidio Romulo Lopez Cordova. Height: 5‘5”. Weight: 130. Date of Birth: 3/24/78. Eyes: brown and full of energy.

In the Petersons’ Ponderosa home, Lopez munches on chips and bounces in a living room chair. He laughs, teases, mocks.

He speaks English well now, after three months of working with a tutor five days a week.

“He is so enthusiastic and energetic. He’s very willing to practice. He caught on quickly,” said tutor Jan Monroe, a Spanish teacher at Valley Christian School. “He really understands most things said to him.”

If not, he makes a joke.

A visitor waiting for an answer to his question said, “I don’t understand,” as Lopez searched for words.

His eyes lit up and he smiled. “Neither do I,” he said.

“He’s infectious,” Bill said. He’s Americanized, said Chris.

He’s the quintessential teenager.

He sprawls across chairs at the dinner table, and he switches the car radio from easy listening to Top 40 Hits. Like most teens, he has a part-time job. He’s an apprentice, learning to fix bicycles at Midway Cyclery.

While Lopez waited for his foot to heal from two surgeries and multiple recasting by Spokane Shriners Hospital doctors, the Petersons wanted him to find a career skill.

“What did he want to do?” they asked. Fast food? Retail? Hair styling?

“Whatever God tells me,” Lopez said.

So the Petersons asked Midway Cyclery owners if they could train him to repair bicycles, so he could open a shop in Guatemala when he goes home.

Since October, he’s been taking apart Schwinns, building bikes, fixing brakes and straightening wheels.

Midway gave Lopez his own bike.

“We want to teach him about business,” manager Brenda Gildehaus said. “When he goes back he could work for 25 cents or 75 cents. He’ll know what he’s worth.”

The Petersons say he’s priceless.

On Tuesday, the Petersons will take him home to his family, where a pig will be slaughtered for his homecoming.

They will travel up those same winding roads, on which Lopez walked with his club foot. This time his left foot, now turned and a few sizes smaller than his right, will walk straight over Guatemalan soil.

“It will be hard for Ovidio,” Chris said. “He’s caught, torn between going and staying. He doesn’t say anything.”

He’s become accustomed to video games, television, new cars, a nice home.

There’ll be plenty of tears.

“It’s going to be really, really rough,” Chris said. “He’s filled a gap for us.” She has watched her two sons grow older. The Petersons’ youngest son will graduate from high school this year.

The Petersons sent $500 to Lopez’s parents so they can put electricity in their home. They’ve bought air mattresses to add to their bedroom. They’ve bought camping stoves for the kitchen, where Lopez’s mother cooks over a fire. They’ve bought tools, dishes, tarpaulins, fans, toothpaste, toothbrushes, a portable shower and clothes.

“The money spent on Ovidio and the mission has been the best spent money. The most enjoyable,” Bill said.

The Petersons have now set out to do one mission trip a year for the next 10 years.

“We were going to go on a cruise with friends before we started (doing all the mission work),” Chris said.

“I think it would ruin it, going on a cruise now,” Bill added. “I would rather do this six times.”

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: 6 Color Photos; Map of Guatemala