Thursday, February 10, 2011

A New Perspective

Guatemala is a beautiful, rugged, and mountainous country. Large expanses of flat, fertile land suitable for farming were very rare in the areas we traveled. Amazingly, nearly eighty percent of Guatemala’s land is owned and farmed by only twenty-two very wealthy families. The vast majority of Guatemalan people are not only poor, but also forced to live on just twenty percent of the land, most of which is difficult, at best, to inhabit. The towns we visited and drove by were nearly always scattered among the hills and mountainsides (where they are severely prone to landslides). Countless families live in perpetual fear of losing their homes and their lives to a landslide.

The next town we visited was large in comparison to many of the places we had been. It was scattered high onto the hillsides. We walked a great distance there, having another chance to visit the homes of families sponsored by the CFCA. There are very few roads as the town gains altitude, the people left to travel on foot great distances to get to both their homes and their places of work. We found ourselves breathless and tired as we climbed higher and higher, a climb so many adults and children must make daily.

It was in this Guatemalan town that I realized my perception of what “poor” is was being drastically changed, shattered really. And it seemed to be changing by the minute. I have visited many cities in the United States and seen some of this country’s poorer areas. Nothing I have ever seen in the States could even remotely compare to the level of poverty I witnessed in Guatemala. And yet, even as I traveled deeper into the poverty of Guatemala, I was met with the same bright faces and beautiful smiles I had come to love. Although we were as foreign as one could imagine, being a large group of heavily breathing, relatively tall Caucasian folks, we were still met with nothing but welcoming smiles. As I told my dad that night, it was as if I was acquiring a physical addiction to the smiles of Guatemalan poor, especially the children. Their smiles were like an injection of something holy, something sacred. I simply couldn’t get enough.

The first home we visited that afternoon was that of a family of four. It was the home of a mother and father, two parents working together to provide for their two young children. Their home was tucked quietly away in the trees at the end of a narrow, dirt pathway. The home itself was constructed of nothing more than old, corrugated tin and bamboo. The family shared one, tiny room with one wooden bed. The home had dirt floors, something I now knew was the absolute norm in this part of the world. There was no running water and no electricity, and their food was cooked outdoors over an open fire.



The father in this young family works the fields when that work is available. Field work is seasonal, leaving this man (and many others) without stable work for much of the year. When not working the fields, he helps prepare yarn for his wife’s weaving. He allowed us to enter the one room of their home and watch the process he uses for preparing the yarn. I watched in amazement as his fingers flew at lightning speed in a maze of movement I could have never repeated.



The yarn he prepared was then used by his wife to weave table runners and the traditional shawls that all Guatemalan women (and girls) wear. Her days are spent sitting outside weaving, using nothing more than a milk box for a chair. I watched both of them work, and I began to wonder – what would it be like to labor in this way all day, every day? And what if all I had to show for it was a tiny shack with dirt floors? What if I had no mattress to collapse onto at night? What if a good meal was a rare meal, in spite of how hard I worked? Would I, I couldn’t help but wonder, find the strength to face the rising sun each morning? And could I do it with a smile, the way they do?

Her weaving, we would learn, is the family’s entire form of income for much of the year. She explained that she is able to weave one shawl per day, thanks to their teamwork. Without her husband preparing the yarn, her work would be much slower. Together, their goal is to make one shawl a day and to sell one shawl a day. If they can accomplish their goal, they will take home about two American dollars a day. Even if they were able to sell one shawl a day, the most income they could count on is sixty dollars a month. Sixty dollars for a family of four.



As I made my way back down that narrow dirt path, I couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that we would only visit a miniscule fraction of the lives affected by severe poverty. I wondered about the families we wouldn’t see and the stories we wouldn’t hear. What about the families who didn’t benefit from sponsorship?

Thankfully, we had a wonderful opportunity to visit a family who has benefited a great deal from the work of the CFCA. One of the programs run by CFCA is that of building new homes for the most in need. The homes, while being very simple, are a massive improvement when compared to the usual living conditions in Guatemala. The new homes have solid, cement foundations. The walls are built with sturdy brick and have actual glass windows. Lockable doors and a secured metal roof provide a family with far more security than most. Amazingly, one of these homes can be built for around $3,500.



The home we visited that afternoon belonged to a family of seven. The home had three large rooms, and for the first time we saw beds with a mattress. The father in this family is a fisherman. He took the day off so that he could be there to show us his home and to thank us for helping. Much like Francisco, he was so proud to show us his beautiful new home. I had the opportunity to capture his image in a photograph; it is an image I will never forget. This man was as thankful, as happy, and as proud as anyone I have ever seen. He stood before us, glowing with a radiant, joyful smile.



That man’s smile spoke volumes. It was a transforming moment for me, a moment when my perspective on poverty and life was radically changed. I stood there in a state of awe at how my views had changed in only a few days. I realized that had this home been the first place I stepped foot into after arriving in Guatemala, I would have been heartbroken at the poverty, at how little this family has. Instead, I stood there with a smile on my face and a realization that hope and dignity can be restored by nothing more than solid walls and a reliable roof. Compared to so many of the homes we witnessed, this family was living in relative luxury.

When I walked away from that visit, I could think of only one thing – my own home. I live in a beautiful house with running water, electricity, and comfortable beds. I have more blessings than can possibly be counted. The smile of a poor man in his humble new home proved that. The beautiful people of Guatemala were not only showing me so clearly what I have, but more importantly - what I need.

For me, the cry of the poor has a beautiful new face and a powerful new voice. The face is so easy to love, and the voice is one that must be heard. The cry of the poor demands a response. If we listen with our hearts and respond in love, we just might learn the lessons they teach.

No comments:

Post a Comment