Xix Kabob

I came to Guatemala to work as the volunteer coordinator for an organization called Constru Casa that builds houses for families that live in extreme poverty. To very briefly describe my job, I help plan volunteers' trips and make sure everything goes smoothly while they are helping with the construction among other promotional and administrative tasks.

Last Sunday (July 25), I was suppose to go to a small town called Xix (pronounced Shish) with two other coworkers, Stefan and Ranferi. A high school mission group was coming, and we wanted to make sure everything went well. Then we would go to Coban, where Constru Casa recently built a school. However, in perfect Guatemalan style, it did not go as planned. At eight in the morning, I got a call from Stefan saying a land slide blocked the way between Xix and Coban. Their priority was to see the school, so Stefan and Ranferi would go to Coban and I would go by myself to Xix. I was excited to have the full responsibility of my first group.

However, at first I was skeptical how I would get along with the mission group since I am Jewish and not religious in any way. When I first entered the bus, they began singing religious songs, and I thought the next few days would be very long. But I was wrong. It was a very accepting group. Of course, they have their own strong personal beliefs, but they are open to many different ideas of religion. One of the trip leaders is a converted Muslim. You wouldn’t guess it from her looks. She has blonde hair and blue eyes and doesn't cover her head. She grew up catholic, but could never connect to the religion, and when she learned about Islam she realized it was what she was looking for.

I also believe religion can be very powerful when used positively. That’s exactly what this group was here to do--to help a community in need. The kids ranged from 14 to 18 years old, and some had never been out of the country before. It’s always interesting to see how everyone reacts differently to these situations. Some adjusted beautifully, with no problem, whereas others struggled with the new setting. One boy shook in his seat as he tried beans for the first time. He stared at the plate for minute after minute, fidgeting with the food in front of him. “Mom, why didn’t you prepare us for this? You said we were all prepared,” he complained to his mom, one of the trip leaders.

I think those that struggled more will probably come away from Guatemala with a stronger feeling of what they saw and did here. It’s exciting to see when kids put themselves for the first time out of their comfort zone. I really hope it makes a lasting impression on them and they remain conscious of the poverty and problems of the country after they leave. It is very easy to get lost in American suburbia, and this trip can open their eyes to what’s outside of a comfortable home, schools that are easily accessible and a problem-free home cooked meal.

We arrived late to Xix because the driver took the long route. It was a gorgeous day with no rain, a rarity for the rainy season, and he thought we should see the beautiful landscape. It was totally worth the extra hours. We drove on windy roads through mountains. Some of the kids were nervous, especially when we passed fallen boulders in the road or half cleaned up land slides. I’m not sure why, but I never get nervous about things like that. I never feel the pressure of any possible danger, which can have its benefits and disadvantages. I trust too easily, but then again, I don’t spend my time worrying and I have many amazing experiences along the way.

On the road to Xix.

After hours of uphill winding roads, we arrive on top of the mountains to Xix around 9pm. It became obvious why every time I mentioned to Guatemalans I was going to Xix, they had no idea what I was talking about. Xix is in the middle of the mountains between isolation and the middle of nowhere.

As we arrived, the director of APRODEFI, a school in Xix with which Constru Casa partners, waited for us with a group of male students. The boys were all ready to take the women’s bags down the steep driveway that our van could not drive down. We had a meal of cold, but to my delight, well cooked beans, plantains and weak coffee.

The next day the students began constructing houses at three different sites. I went back and forth between the three, checking up to see if everything was OK, taking pictures, and my favorite part--talking to the families. I was surprised to hear that every child in each family goes to school. The other day before my trip to Xix, I went with some coworkers to a town to see if we could build a house for any families. In each town, Constru Casa partners with another organization that knows the local families very well. As we walked around the town with two ladies from the other organization, all the kids were home. One of the ladies kept telling them if they didn’t go to school they would not get their gifts. In Xix, forcing kids to go to school did not seem to be a problem. The families all thought education was very important. One daughter of a family that will receive a house wants to become a nurse so she can help those in the community that need assistance. She would have to go to a nearby city called Nebaj for schooling and to work since Xix does not have a hospital.

I joined the race to see who could filter the dirt fastest with the volunteers and some locals kids that stopped by.

I will never forget one of the families in particular. Maria is the mother of six children. The three youngest children were home in the morning when their oldest siblings were in school. The oldest son Cristobal is in school to become a teacher, and will probably continue teaching in Xix once he earns his degree at APRODEFI.

At the house, the kids were so receptive to be around the volunteers. They were a little shy at first, but after about an hour they were hugging and playing with them. The volunteers, of course, loved this. Maria told me, just as the other two families did, how excited she was to live in the new house. The family of seven currently lives in a one-room house with only one bed, which they all share at night. The father lives somewhere in the United States, but he doesn’t send them money back because he has a drinking problem. They have so little, yet every time I was about to leave the house, Maria insisted I have something to drink and bread or a vegetable to eat.

I was visiting one of the houses, talking to Juana the mother of another family when it began to downpour. All the volunteers and construction workers ran into the house. The volunteers struggled to interact with the family because they did not speak a word of English, but they started playing games with the second youngest son Mario. At first, Mario sat in the corner, staring at us and laughing uncontrollably. Slowly he got closer as the volunteers tried to teach him rock-paper-scissors and the hand jive. To Mario and his mother's delight, I snapped pictures of the volunteers and the family. Mario erupted into giggles each time he saw his face looking back at him from my digital camera.

Mario is born to hand jive, baby.

The next day, I helped with construction in the morning. Within an hour, my delicate hands that have done close to no construction work in my life were already starting to get sore. The masons work glove-less with such agility that you think it's a simple job. I twisted metal flexible wires to long metal rods that would go at the foundation of the house. By the time I finished with five rods, the masons had finished the rest. Our next job was to fill the foundation with concrete. I slowly mixed and shoveled the concrete into buckets, feeling the pressure on my back. I felt like I deserved pure wimp status because I was exhausted by lunch.

Lucky for me, the volunteers only worked half the day because they went on a tour of the school. APRODEFI provides classes from kindergarten to professional training. Students can study agriculture, carpentry, textile designs, teaching or how to make break. Classes on different trades are supplemented with training on how to run a business. The school is totally practical, but it seems completely underfunded. The teachers earn less than a third of what I make, and I'm considered a volunteer! I would not even be able to pay two month's of rent with their wage.

The students pay to attend the school, but the director Jose said when money is low, they can't feed the students and sometimes need to close. They have the rights to a large plot of land in the forest, but they still need to pay it back in full. This could be really useful for teaching the students. They could also use the lumber to make money, but they cannot utilize it yet. Big companies want to buy the land for a lot of money, so the school is struggling to keep it in its possession. Currently a Peace Corps volunteer is helping the school, so hopefully she can improve their donations program and publicize the "sponsor a student" program.

After the tour, I became a major entertainment attraction for the kids. Mario from one of the houses saw me and mentioned to everyone about my camera. Before I knew it, children of all sizes swarmed around me begging for pictures. Wherever I walked, I had a group of 20 children surrounding me, all wanting to hold my hand. I never feel tall, but I towered over the kids, which made me feel like a loved deity. Each time I took a picture they huddled around me to pull my camera toward them. Since I was wearing a strap around my neck, I went flying in all directions until each one saw every single picture. When I told them I was leaving to go back to Antigua the next day, they looked confused and sad. Who would have thought that within two days the same kids that hid behind their teacher's skirts at the sight of the group would become so attached?

They may not look thrilled, but seconds after I took the picture, they were jumping all over me.

I left Xix with the group to go to Nebaj. They wanted to see the market, and I needed to catch the minibus from there to take two more buses before reaching Antigua. I got to sit in the front, which was a blessing. As we continued driving, the bus picked up more and more people, cramming them in even though there was little room. I had a spacious front seat view of the road and the passing mountains. For entertainment, I looked out for images you never see in the United States. I saw two women in indigenous clothing running as they balanced huge loads on top of their heads and carried a machete at the same time. This was definitely a new sight for my eyes. Apparently, they never learned the rule that my kindergarten teacher always enforced: never run with a sharp object, and always keep a sharp tip facing you.

Within five seconds, a red truck of men on the other side of the road drove backwards. Another image you would not see in the US. You can't even park on the opposite side of the street if your car is facing the wrong way, let alone drive backwards. The men in the back of the pickup all waved to us and started shouting, "Un asalto! Un asalto!" They told the driver that just up the road a truck was being robbed. We stopped and the people in the minibus called the police. The young girl behind me began to cry. I was thankful the truck stopped us since I have my new camera, and I would definitely have cried if they stole that from me. It was especially a good thing since my fellow passengers were really willing to look out for my well-being. I overheard them talking about how if the robbers came, it would be OK because they would know I was worth the most. Talk about passenger camaraderie--they would have left me for the robbers if they had a chance. But beside the close call, I made it home safe without a problem.