Trip 1 Day 3

On the world seeming so small
I am starting this blog a bit late tonight because we just returned to the house about half an hour ago after walking my friend, Blair, back to her hostel on Avenida 7 ( the hostel was named Uggi Wuggi II…or something weird like that). Blair works with me at Core, the outdoor program at Clemson, and just happened to be passing through Antigua after finishing her studies in Costa Rica, where she has been living with a host family since January. We all went out to dinner around 7:30 at the only Irish pub here in Antigua called Riley’s. It was the strangest thing, eating my vegetarian curry at an Irish pub in Antigua, Guatemala while a Guatemalan local played Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze” on his acoustic guitar. The culture of this city never ceases to fascinate me, and in case you would like to know, the curry was absolutely delicious. After dinner, Fred took off back to the house as he usually does, and a few of us stayed out to show Blair around Antigua since she leaves tomorrow morning for the Copan ruins in Honduras. By showing her the town, we basically took her to Mono Loco, which turned out to be lame, and then bummed around the city which was pretty dead for the most part. It was alright though, and we still had some good conversation as we walked her back to her hostel.
Work today was the same as yesterday, filling in the cracks of the concrete blocks with mortar, over and over, but the finished result is a beautiful sight for our tired selves. Tomorrow all we have left to do is finish a layer of block on the back of the house to create a slant for the roof, and then we pour the floor so that it can dry overnight. Friday consists of painting, putting in the window and door, I believe, and then celebrating with the family by sharing a meal with them inside their new home and handing over their new key. I cannot wait to see all of their faces!
We arrived to the work site this morning with a few things for the kids, like some beanie babies that Patrick had brought from home and some lollipops that Toran and Sarah bought at the supermercado yesterday. The first beanie baby that Sarah attempted to give to the smallest boy, whose name, surprisingly, is Brian (maybe Bryan?) was turned down with shyness. He buried his head into his mother’s chest, but after a bit of her coaxing, he decided to take it and ended up actually seeming to like it. Two of the other boys came up, Julio David and the little boy we all affectionately call “pee pee pants” (he is seriously always peeing in his pants), and we gave them each a beanie baby which they liked. Finally, we had one pink teddy bear beanie baby left, and the littlest girl tiptoed up to us with a curious look on her face, wondering if we had a regalo (present) for her. Sarah grabbed the pink teddy bear out of the bag, and the second she showed it to the little girl, her face completely lit up, and she stretched out her little arms to grab it. She snatched the bear quickly to her chest with a smile, and I don’t think she let go of it for the entire day.
After we had finished four rows of block around 12 in the afternoon, we took yet another long lunch break that allowed Toran, Sarah, Nathan, and I to venture off into town again. We had been given rosaries this morning to hand out to our kids and also to any other kids in town that may want them. We all felt a bit awkward just walking up to kids and handing them rosaries, so none of us had given any out. At one point, I was watching some kids play soccer, and one boy came up to me after seeing the rosaries dangling from my wrists and asked “cuantas cuestas?” (how much do those cost?, basically), and I told him that they were free and he could take whichever he wanted. He took one quickly from my hands, leaving me with only three left, and when his friends saw the boy’s rosary, they basically flipped out and all ran over to me, taking the rest of the rosaries like I was giving away money or cake or something. Many other kids in the area began to notice, and they ran up to Toran and Sarah and Nathan, grabbing rosaries until we had none left. I don’t know if they really love rosaries, or if they just really love getting free stuff from gringos, but I’m glad we got rid of them, and I hope they serve some purpose in those kids’ lives.
On our sojourn into town, we also went back to the bakery and got two more cinnamon rolls that were even more delicious than yesterday, and Toran and Sarah decided to go to the local bank to exchange some of their American money into Quetzales. Banks around here are always heavily guarded by at least one or two policemen with shotguns strapped to their chests, and this policemen looked at me suspiciously as I drank my Agua Pura, leaned up against the wall inside the bank as I waited for them to exchange their money. I suppose I should have felt safe due to his presence, but I couldn’t help but be a tiny bit nervous about the fact that this stern man next to me was carrying a pistol right on his hip, ready to aim and shoot. I was relieved when we walked back out into the street, where Toran and Sarah proceeded to spend their newly acquired Quetzales at a fried chicken place across the street.
Our work was finished around 4 pm, which I believe is a new record for our group which has consistently finished after the other group each day. We actually had some time to relax a bit after taking our showers back here at the house, and although my shower has been a bit faulty with the hot water and often leaves me with a head full of shampoo and ice cold water pouring out of the shower head, I had a hard time justifying my paltry complaint. Running water is a commodity that we take for granted, especially running water that is instantly scalding hot at the turn of a handle. Julia, the mother of the family we are building for, is always carrying her smallest child on her back, and I saw her walk off to town today with large empty jugs. She has to walk about a quarter of a mile, maybe a bit more, to fill these jugs with water and heft them back to her home, with a baby on her back. Most of the mothers of Santa Maria de Jesus must also do their laundry at the local washing place. There are no washers or dryers, and there is no one to help these busy mothers since their husbands are generally off working. They are silent heroines, scrounging up meals for their children, clothing them, and making sure that their children get to school in order to learn what little these schools have to offer them. Multiple times today, Julia was off in a corner breastfeeding her baby while I know that she was probably going hungry.
In our group discussion tonight, we talked about the gospel. Although I am not the most religious person in the world, and I’m definitely not one to bring up the gospel in a blog like this, I was intrigued by what was brought up pertaining to the reading from Luke. Fred told us that once, he asked his religious ed group what they thought was the most important part of mass. Most kids answered with the typical responses of, “the Eucharist” or other things along those lines, while one kid, who was considered to be the class clown, stood up and said that “when it’s over” is the most important part. They laughed, but he said that he was serious. When mass is over, we say, “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” Fred said he had never thought of it that way. If we all go to mass and then that’s it, we do nothing about what we have just heard, and we do nothing to apply the readings to our daily lives, then what is the point? It is all about action, and I found that I agreed completely with Katy when she said that she feels her faith most when she is doing service projects, such as these.
Without serving and without giving pieces of ourselves to others, what are we doing? We can’t just go to mass, say prayers, and hope that everything will turn out okay for these people. We can’t throw Bibles in their faces or tell them to be “saved.” What people need, especially these people we are serving in Guatemala, is actual, tangible help. They need food, cleaner water, plumbing, and dry houses to live in. I guess what I am trying to say is that, although prayer is great, we are called to do more than just pray for people and donate money to some basket that will eventually, we hope, aid some good cause. We can all go out and physically touch other peoples’ lives, and it doesn’t even have to be through something as drastic as building a house. People need love, they need to be smiled at, or hugged, or told that they are doing a good job. It is through this simple human contact that we can make some of the most lasting difference, and like I said in my last blog, when we leave on Friday, although I will never see this beautiful family again, I know that the connection we have made with them will last for their entire lives and also for mine.
So to wrap up this post for the night, I will end with relating back to the title. The world really is small, in so many ways. Not only did I meet a friend from Clemson and also a girl, Catherine, from UNC, but I realized that the connection of human affection, a simple touch, hug, or a smile (as cheesy as it does sound) makes everything seem so similar. We all have the same basic needs, and these needs surpass the boundaries of countries and languages. Now, with the tune of Disney’s “It’s a Small World After All,” I am going to get some rest.
Buenas,
Lauren