Me encanta Guatemala

For my non-Spanish speaking friends, "me encanta Guatemala" means "I love Guatemala." The cool thing about the word I used, "encanta", is that it is more than just really liking something. It conveys a special fondness. It's also been translated as "delight in a high degree." To me, this implies intimacy. And that's where Guatemala is for me - in a special, intimate place in my heart.

With just a few weeks until the plane takes off, I am getting more and more excited. It's hard to describe this feeling to someone who hasn't experienced it for themselves. I mean, why would anyone be excited to visit a third-world country?!? It's indescribable, but I'll try.

An old Guatemalan proverb says:

Es mejor comer frijoles en la paz que la carne en peligro

It means, "it's better to eat beans in peace than meat in distress." People in the rural parts of Guatemala, the places we go to visit and drill clean water wells, don't have much in the way of worldly possessions. In fact, they often lack sufficient food for their own families, and certainly, meat is a luxury. But none of them, despite their obvious need for basic necessities, ever seem to be lacking in spirit. There is limited, if any, quarrelling amongst the children, and rarely there are any arguments between neighbors. I guess when you have nothing of any real material value, you have nothing of any real material value to fight over.

The people in village that we visited last year have very few earthly possessions. Most households have a few pots for cooking, a few changes of clothes, and baskets for collecting and storing fruits and vegetables. At least one home in the community has a corn mill, and this location serves as the meeting place for the women of the village - I guess certain things, like the need for women to congregate and socialize, are universal. During my tour of the community in the town of Bracitos, I noticed that the families that had motorized transportation usually had just a motorcycle - which the entire family rode on to get to church on Sundays - or maybe a half-running pickup truck, likely one bought for cheap in the States. Their clothes were mostly donated from missions in the US, or bought at markets full of knock-offs and poor imitations of brand names popular here in the US. Very few women wore any "traditional" dress anymore. If a home had any furniture, it looked to be either handmade, or in disrepair from likely years of abuse and exposure to the elements, as many homes lacked doors or windows to keep the outdoors out. Most of the people we met didn't wear jewelry of any kind - not even a watch. They didn't have much "stuff" at all to speak of, especially not by American standards. But they wore something that a lot of Americans rarely do - a smile.

Why are they so happy? They are poor. They are hungry. They are living in shacks. They work long, hard hours for very little pay. Their government is corrupt. Why are they smiling?!? What is there to be happy about?? They have peace. I can make up a hundred theories as to why they live in peace. But the fact is that it really doesn't matter why. They just do. They are just fine with not having everything this world has to offer. They have peace in their hearts that spills over into their surrounding community. They don't have much, but everything they have is for everyone. They see us crazy gringos driving into town and their first instinct, despite the fact that we drive in on a fairly new, air-conditioned vehicle with freshly laundered clothes and clean hair and full bellies, is to share with us. What they have to offer is nothing by our over-indulged American standards. Nothing. But the fact that they offer it willingly, graciously, and whole-heartedly is something that no one who has never been there can fathom. They are happy because what they have, they understand, is really not theirs to hold onto - it's all God's.

Every meal, no matter how simple, is made with love and respect for us, their guests. Most meals we ate there were a mixture of beans, rice, homemade tortillas, and some kind of meat - usually chicken or beef. They presented it to us on their best china - most of which didn't match - with real forks and spoons. This was likely not the case when their families ate. Most probably wrapped the food in a tortilla and ate on their dirt floors. We ate on the tables and chairs borrowed from the school house in the shade of a tree on the school property. They joined us in prayer and then disappeared during our meal. It wouldn't look it to the untrained eye, but they had just presented us with a feast held in our honor! They brought together their finest just for us! It reminds me of Jesus and the perfume. It may not have been much, but to have his feet washed with special perfume meant everything to him. It was all in the sacrifice. And sitting at that table, elbow to elbow in the scorching hot July sun, my face wet with sweat, I never felt more blessed and more loved. It was all in the sacrifice.

I love Guatemala. I have a special place in my heart for my friends there. Ms. Costa de Luz is someone I will not soon forget - her gift to me was something that I believe I may forever treasure. But she represents most of the people there. They are warm, giving, and kind. They are sincere and sweet. And most of all, they have peace.

It is better to live without much and be at peace than to be burdened with many things that stress you out.

I will never eat beans the same way...