Guatemala
Photos
So... Guatemala... basically, we tearfully left Costa Rica, saying goodbye to our families, Teatro Nacional, LASP, pothole-filled roads, "Gracias a Dios" and various other little memories... We arrived and spent some time at the airport with all the gorgeous faces staring at us - never have I seen so many indigenous-looking latins. We headed out through the crowd to our bus where a few little kids started asking us for some money - "just a penny" "don't you have any money?" I can see their desperate faces... their rough, small hands and inquiring eyes... I am haunted.
So I knew Guatemala would be tough, but I didn't know how much more I could handle, especially with the thought of returning in the back of my mind. We traveled to various places, seeing the intense contrast between the poorest of the poor, picking through dirty, dangerous trash for their night's meals and driving about 10 minutes to one of the biggest malls I've seen, with people dressed nicely and spending way too much money. I am haunted by the picture of the woman, surrounded in piles and piles of rubbish, barely seen admist the vultures, tires and piles... I can't make the pictures go away... She can't make the vultures go away. She must go home each night with pieces of hopeful treasures... somehow rummaging survival for her family, who is labeled by their mother's profession. I am haunted.
At some point, we ended up in Chichicastinango (I think?) and stayed the night... we toured around, hearing from Pastors and speakers explaining how they cope with all the diversity of religions (18 different indigenous groups each with their own language) by embracing pluralism in a way. We saw a Mayan-Catholic church and a Mayan worship site. There were 2 kids in particular that stole my attention for the majority of the touring... I bought some dolls from them... they were shrewd salespeople. :) Then, their mom wanted to sell me a blanket, but I couldn't pay what it was really worth, so I didn't buy it... I felt like it would just be an insult to her work to pay a few dollars for something that obviously had taken so long to prepare. It's hard to know...
Then we went to our different sites (or maybe this was before) - mine was Agua Viva, an orphanage for Guatemalan street kids. She told us that there were 6,000 street kids living in Guatemala city and only 51 were presently at the orphanage since they couldn't afford to sponsor any more. They had cut costs by cutting off hot water to the kitchen and had less for the showers... they traded services with surrounding orphanages so they didn't have to fork out any cash for dentist work and such. They reused and recycled as much as they possibly could. Decorating with one of the guys there was an incredible experience - he was so careful and gentle with every decoration because it was all they had. If the lights didn't work, he couldn't simply go buy another string like we do - he had to search for the exact bulb that wasn't working and replace it. The care he took was remarkable.
There was one particular little boy whose story haunts my thoughts... we called him Franklin because he kinda looked like Franklin the turtle on TV... He and his 2 sisters were living in a box on the street with his grandma. When the social worker found this 3-year old little boy, he was so hungry and dirty that he'd taken to eating the lice that were crawling around in his hair. When the three of them first arrived at the orphanage, they cried often and would only sleep together in one bed each night - trembling from being in a new environment, away from everything they'd known since birth. Today, he sits around the meal table just like everyone else, giggling and eating his beans and tortillas, as mischievous as any little boy ought to be. An incredible testimony to the goodness being done there. The part that rips my heart out is the 5,999 other little boys and girls, wandering the streets, robbed of childhood fantasies in hopes of finding a decent bite to eat and a cozier corner to hide in. WHY????? Why is this like this? Why do we have so much and they have nothing? Why does it hurt so much to see and yet I so easily fit back into the American lifestyle of spending and wasting and complaining? Why? Why? Why? I am haunted.
Then we went to the more beautiful Guatemala - the stuff you see in postcards. We ate good food and spent money on presents for people who don't need anything, basking in the warm showers, heavenly sunsets and magnificent volcanoes... It was so easy to transition into "normal life" again. Except now the normal life is haunted by pictures of suffering. How do these two worlds collide? I am terrorized by faces, hands and beautiful dark eyes... asking for me to do something - to end this poverty, this injustice, this hell on earth. Do you now see why I am so haunted? Why I am so angry? These faces... those suffering faces... make me angry at injustice. Make me beside myself with corruption, greed and self-centeredness. Make me angry at God. Make me angry at Christians who argue about mundane, unimportant doctrinal issues and miss the most important parts of Christ's liberating kingdom... I still have not gotten to the point of compassion for those who don't understand. I am still heart-broken and angry... because I am still haunted.
P.S. One good thing - we did a proposal for $618 being donated to the orphanage and it was approved. Good work team...
So... Guatemala... basically, we tearfully left Costa Rica, saying goodbye to our families, Teatro Nacional, LASP, pothole-filled roads, "Gracias a Dios" and various other little memories... We arrived and spent some time at the airport with all the gorgeous faces staring at us - never have I seen so many indigenous-looking latins. We headed out through the crowd to our bus where a few little kids started asking us for some money - "just a penny" "don't you have any money?" I can see their desperate faces... their rough, small hands and inquiring eyes... I am haunted.
So I knew Guatemala would be tough, but I didn't know how much more I could handle, especially with the thought of returning in the back of my mind. We traveled to various places, seeing the intense contrast between the poorest of the poor, picking through dirty, dangerous trash for their night's meals and driving about 10 minutes to one of the biggest malls I've seen, with people dressed nicely and spending way too much money. I am haunted by the picture of the woman, surrounded in piles and piles of rubbish, barely seen admist the vultures, tires and piles... I can't make the pictures go away... She can't make the vultures go away. She must go home each night with pieces of hopeful treasures... somehow rummaging survival for her family, who is labeled by their mother's profession. I am haunted.
At some point, we ended up in Chichicastinango (I think?) and stayed the night... we toured around, hearing from Pastors and speakers explaining how they cope with all the diversity of religions (18 different indigenous groups each with their own language) by embracing pluralism in a way. We saw a Mayan-Catholic church and a Mayan worship site. There were 2 kids in particular that stole my attention for the majority of the touring... I bought some dolls from them... they were shrewd salespeople. :) Then, their mom wanted to sell me a blanket, but I couldn't pay what it was really worth, so I didn't buy it... I felt like it would just be an insult to her work to pay a few dollars for something that obviously had taken so long to prepare. It's hard to know...
Then we went to our different sites (or maybe this was before) - mine was Agua Viva, an orphanage for Guatemalan street kids. She told us that there were 6,000 street kids living in Guatemala city and only 51 were presently at the orphanage since they couldn't afford to sponsor any more. They had cut costs by cutting off hot water to the kitchen and had less for the showers... they traded services with surrounding orphanages so they didn't have to fork out any cash for dentist work and such. They reused and recycled as much as they possibly could. Decorating with one of the guys there was an incredible experience - he was so careful and gentle with every decoration because it was all they had. If the lights didn't work, he couldn't simply go buy another string like we do - he had to search for the exact bulb that wasn't working and replace it. The care he took was remarkable.
There was one particular little boy whose story haunts my thoughts... we called him Franklin because he kinda looked like Franklin the turtle on TV... He and his 2 sisters were living in a box on the street with his grandma. When the social worker found this 3-year old little boy, he was so hungry and dirty that he'd taken to eating the lice that were crawling around in his hair. When the three of them first arrived at the orphanage, they cried often and would only sleep together in one bed each night - trembling from being in a new environment, away from everything they'd known since birth. Today, he sits around the meal table just like everyone else, giggling and eating his beans and tortillas, as mischievous as any little boy ought to be. An incredible testimony to the goodness being done there. The part that rips my heart out is the 5,999 other little boys and girls, wandering the streets, robbed of childhood fantasies in hopes of finding a decent bite to eat and a cozier corner to hide in. WHY????? Why is this like this? Why do we have so much and they have nothing? Why does it hurt so much to see and yet I so easily fit back into the American lifestyle of spending and wasting and complaining? Why? Why? Why? I am haunted.
Then we went to the more beautiful Guatemala - the stuff you see in postcards. We ate good food and spent money on presents for people who don't need anything, basking in the warm showers, heavenly sunsets and magnificent volcanoes... It was so easy to transition into "normal life" again. Except now the normal life is haunted by pictures of suffering. How do these two worlds collide? I am terrorized by faces, hands and beautiful dark eyes... asking for me to do something - to end this poverty, this injustice, this hell on earth. Do you now see why I am so haunted? Why I am so angry? These faces... those suffering faces... make me angry at injustice. Make me beside myself with corruption, greed and self-centeredness. Make me angry at God. Make me angry at Christians who argue about mundane, unimportant doctrinal issues and miss the most important parts of Christ's liberating kingdom... I still have not gotten to the point of compassion for those who don't understand. I am still heart-broken and angry... because I am still haunted.
P.S. One good thing - we did a proposal for $618 being donated to the orphanage and it was approved. Good work team...
posted by Sings in the Sunshine at
11:53 PM
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