Volunteer Story — Jesal Amin, MD
Into the Amazon: A Physician’s Journey of Healing and Humility
As an emergency room physician raised and trained in Missouri and now living in Dallas, TX, my life has always straddled the edge of intensity and service. Yet despite the fast-paced world of modern medicine, I’ve long harbored a quiet calling toward international aid—something deeper, more immersive, more human. That calling took vivid shape in 2022, when I had the opportunity to serve on a medical mission in the heart of the Peruvian Amazon. It turned out to be one of the most transformative experiences of my life.
What initially drew me to the trip wasn’t just the promise of adventure—it was the pull of purpose. I wanted to understand healthcare in some of the most remote and underserved places on Earth. When I heard about the opportunity to provide care to communities deep in the jungle—places reachable only by river, where access to medicine is rare—I felt a deep conviction. This was something I had to do.
From the moment I arrived in Peru, the experience was humbling. We stayed in a modest lodge in a small riverside town, with power available only a few hours each day. Every morning, we traveled by boat through the winding Amazon, venturing deeper into a world where dense jungle met incredible human resilience. We set up makeshift clinics in villages unreachable by road, offering care to patients whose medical needs had often gone unmet for years.
Some of the cases I encountered left lasting impressions. I treated a child with a water-hammer pulse—a telltale sign of a serious heart condition that had never been diagnosed. I saw congenital limb deformities, advanced parasitic infections, and illnesses that in the U.S. would have been caught early, treated quickly, and mostly forgotten. The lack of supplies challenged every assumption I had about what it means to be a provider. I had to improvise, adapt, and lean on the ingenuity of my team.
Despite the challenges—the language barriers, the unpredictable weather, the emotional toll—there was profound beauty in every day. In the evenings, the children from our village would gather to play volleyball and soccer, inviting us in despite the gaps in our language. Laughter and movement became our shared vocabulary. The simplicity of it all—the joy, the connection—is something I’ll never forget.
I also found unexpected peace in the routine of care. In a setting so stripped down, every small act of medicine became a moment of meaning. Our patients were deeply appreciative, often thanking us not just with words but with gestures of kindness and respect. I found the experience not only fulfilling but oddly relaxing. It reminded me of why I became a physician in the first place.
There were moments of sheer awe, too—like watching dolphins swim alongside our boat or going on night tours through the jungle with local guides who introduced us to tarantulas, bats, and even piranhas. These experiences, though sometimes offered to tourists, felt different when framed by the deeper purpose of our mission. We weren’t just visiting; we were connecting, learning, and serving.
What made this journey unique wasn’t just the medicine or the scenery—it was the convergence of raw remoteness and cultural richness. I witnessed how entire communities live in harmony with their environment, relying on traditional plant-based remedies passed down through generations. Their lives are woven into the fabric of the rainforest in ways I had only read about before.
Through it all, I learned patience, flexibility, and the deep importance of teamwork. Our group included translators who helped us bridge the communication gap with patients, navigators who guided us safely through the waterways, and cooks who nourished us with simple, wholesome meals. Every role mattered; every person contributed.
This experience changed me—not just as a physician, but as a person. I returned home with a deeper appreciation for things I once took for granted: clean water, reliable electricity, access to healthcare. More than that, I gained a renewed sense of humility and perspective. I now see discomfort not as a barrier, but as a space where real growth happens.
To anyone considering a similar adventure, I say: go with an open mind and a flexible spirit. Prepare to sleep surrounded by the sounds of the jungle, to eat modestly, and to be challenged in ways you never expected. But also prepare to be changed—because you will be, in all the best ways.