We took the plane to Guatemala today. No food was served, but there was television playing (lots of “Everybody Loves Raymond”). The most exciting parts of the ride were when they made us fill out a confusing form just to tell us that, “Oops, it’s the wrong one,” and the landing, which was just like a roller coaster with a good view.
We finally got in to Guatemala City’s small airport. Almost to the exit, a guard asked me something in Spanish. This was the moment when I realized that I was in a place where I knew nothing anyone was saying. Outside we found a guy holding a sign with our name on it and we followed him to a car in a parking lot. I heard some faint American pop music on the radio as we entered the car.
I was in Guatemala because my grandpa [Mitch Greenlick, Child Aid Board member] had invited me. It was the best opportunity that had come my way in a while and I knew that it would make a good eighth grade service project. All eighth graders at my school, Environmental Middle School [in Portland, Oregon], are required to organize and implement a service project. With my friend Molly, we set-up two fundraisers, one at our school and one with our close friends and relations to raise money for Guatemalan children.
On the drive to Antigua, my cousin Megan kept pointing out every corporate sign she saw in Spanish. She was surprised it all was so different but was even more surprised when she saw a “Dunkin’ Donuts” sign. It hadn’t occurred to her that huge corporations might make money off of other places than the U.S.
In Antigua we met Rick [Carroll], the president of Child Aid and Matt [Daly], Child Aid’s Guatemala Coordinator. Later that day, we went to tour a school for young women [Instituto Indígena Nuestra Señora del Socorro, see story page 1] who wanted to become teachers. This is the only school of this type available for these girls after eighth grade.
When we arrived at the school, a nun greeted us. Together, we toured the computer lab, the living spaces for the girls (this is a boarding school), and the classrooms. Finally, we came into a large, dark auditorium. The lights flickered on and girls on stage started playing marimbas. It was amazing! [PROBIGUA Director] Rigoberto explained that the marimba is Guatemala’s national instrument. They played many more songs and some of the girls danced.
We awoke the next day to go to Yepocapa, Rigoberto’s village on the volcano. We were supposed to leave at 8:00 a.m. but didn’t end up leaving until after 11 because, as my Grandma says, “You can’t rush in a tropical climate.”
In Yepocapa, we went to Rigoberto’s family house where we were introduced to several people including Rigo’s brothers, sisters and his mother. There was a cute bunny in the corner of the courtyard and several cute children were poking at it.
Before we ate, Rigo showed us the first library he started in his own home after some of his brothers had moved out. Rigo’s sister-in-law herded us to a table and started to serve us. Though there was a place set for his mother, she never sat down throughout the meal. It was at this table in the courtyard where I had my first traditional Guatemalan food of salad, beans, rice, tortillas and fried chicken. The chicken was delicious. So was the rest of the food. The bus driver ate with us and that surprised me.
Halfway through lunch, I looked over to find a little girl in the library reading seriously and avidly to two little boys.
After lunch, we visited the school computer lab founded by PROBIGUA. Megan and I sat with some girls while they showed us how to get on the Internet. Once again, all Spanish left me because I do not know computer Spanish and the girls seemed shy. It was another awkward moment.
The afternoon classes for middle schoolers had started. The Yepocapa school was much nicer than I expected and I found out later that this was the nicest school that we were to see. We went through the embarrassing-ness of going to every classroom while Rigo introduced us and talked about the importance of education. Every once in a while he made Meggy and me talk. When asked how old we were I said, “quince” [15] though I was thinking “catorce” [14]. Oh well, it was a first. First time lying in Spanish.
Before I left for Guatemala, Molly and I each sent a letter to our relatives and family friends. In these letters, I explained Child Aid and shared my goal to raise enough money to send eight Guatemalan children to school for a year. I was very happy with how generous people were and how they seemed genuinely pleased to contribute to this cause. In the end, we raised over $1,000.00.
But when I got to Guatemala everything changed. Seeing the kids changed my project for me from just a school assignment to something that mattered, something that I could get my hands on. Guatemala was so beautiful. The people I traveled with and met were incredibly kind and generous. It was a major eye-opener for me, seeing the poverty and recognizing how much Americans take the right to education for granted.
Rigo’s own story helped bring me to this conclusion. In Yepocapa, with Matt translating, Rigo told us when he was 15, he had gone through middle school and was working on his father’s bean farm and a rich farmer’s coffee bean farm. This is what he would be doing for the rest of his life, since he had gone through all the schooling available to him.
A local priest wanted to help Rigo go to seminary in a nearby town. His mother and aunts did not want him to go. They said that he would not be doing anything useful, that he would learn only useless things. But Rigo went anyway. It was there, he told us, where he developed his life philosophy that education and books can change your life, that they can help you in drastic ways and are a tool to help the world.
But in end, the thing that surprised me most about Guatemala was not how different it was from Portland, but the simple fact that when I looked up at the sky, it was the same sky we have here.
By Hannah Snyder, age 14
