The elders trickled in one by one and soon Chonita's dining room was filled by elder indigenous people. Again, it was difficult to absorb how thankful they were to our travel group. They praised God we were there, they kissed us, they shook our hands and they celebrated. As each person came in, a little woman by the door would shoo them over to shake our hands and greet us at the front of the room. The elders would them weave their way through the mass of people and greet each one of us with a handshake.

Many of their stories were hard to listen to. A woman by the name of Barbara told of a story of how she survived the devastation of Hurricane Stan. She was unconscious, but still her sons managed to get a belt around her waist and pull her out of the mud. Her leg is still swollen from the trauma and her nose was scratched up quite a bit. The scar on the bridge of her nose will forever serve as a painful reminder of the horrible event.

When Barbara was done explaining, Lolita, the Tzutuhil translator explained that yesterday at 5am, the families were asked to leave the temporary housing since the situation was unsafe. The fear of another mudslide amidst all of the rain is imminent and the people had begun cautionary action. She had also heard of a couple who argued about whether to leave or stay. The wife said that God would take her if it was her time to go and she wasn't going to leave. The husband however, decided to leave for safety. I admire the woman for her faith, but I also support the husband for his action to leave.

I couldn't help but also think of Elisabeth and where she was relocated along with the six others in her family. I hoped to see her later that day to hear what really happened.

The elders explained to us why they enjoyed the old days more than the present. in the past, they didn't need to be so concerned about safety or theft. People had more respect for their elders and were friendlier in the streets. I realized how true this was in the States as well. The elderly in our community are often forgotten about, and treated differently than they were in the past.

The elders also told about the benefits of the present. Several of the women talked about how the medical technology had advanced enough that less people passed away. When the women introduced themselves, they told us of how many children they had. Many of the women explained how they had lost children due to illness in the past. This fortunately is becoming less and less of a concern as technology continues to reach their villages.

We handed out tamales and coffee and finally a soda for each of the elders. They were very appreciative and many of the women slipped the tamales inside their clothes to save for later. As they left, each of them shook our hands and said, "God bless you!" It was odd to have so much love expressed to me from total strangers. The association the elders made with each of us to Sharing the Dream was quite evident, and as I received their blessings and gentle touches, I felt guilty for not doing more...

The women were all so beautiful. Their eyes, brown and welcoming, melted my uncertainty as they smiled and stared. They each sat there with their hands folded as they bickered and shared, laughed and cried. Their brown skin was wrinkled and worn and many of their hands and feet were arthritic and curled in. But still they traveled to Chonita's today, to meet us, these Gringoes from up north. Their touches, their smiles, and their memories were such an honor to experience.

Scholarship Students
Hurricane Stan Destruction Area

As soon as the elders left, the scholarship kids were there to meet with us. They ranged in age and school year from first grade all the way through high school. We went around the group asking questions of each of the kids. Most of them were really shy, especially two young boys who sat together and blushed and squirmed when it was their turn.

I was very impressed with how many wanted to help their families, but also disappointed with how many that said they wanted to work with their mom when they were done with school. They really have so much potential, if only they could realize how far they could go and how much more they could do for their families with more education.

Their interest areas were not as extensive as you would think from a child. Many of them mentioned they worked, beaded, or cleaned in their spare time. This was something much different than what you would hear from a kid in the States.

We asked the kids what was their favorite subject, and for this, we got many interesting answers. Accounting, mathematics, languages, etc. We shared with the kids what each of us majored in and also told them of our families. It was depressing to hear them talk of how many brothers and sisters they had and how few of them were in school. Education is something we definitely take for granted in the States.

When all of the questions were asked, we gave the kids tamales and shared pictures of our family members. I made some balloon animals for some of the smaller ones and grew a little bit of a crowd outside for kids that wanted their own! The rain stopped while we chatted and then I remembered Elisabeth. She should have been at this meeting, but in all the excitement, I had forgotten. I imagined she was with her family, settling in to a new place to hide from the probability of mudslides and flooding in her plastic house. I just hoped that she was safe.

After lunch, we went with Virginia and a tour guide named Pedro, to tour the homes of the people Sharing the Dream had helped to rebuild. It was interesting to see what a "new" house in Guatemala looked like, so small from what we're accustomed to!

As we walked with Pedro, I noticed as the pavement became mud covered. Streets were still covered in the mud from the slide and the rainwater since then had carved out a stream in the middle which exposed the road pavement. It was an eerie sight, a glimpse into the past if you will.

Pedro showed us his own house which his wife refused to live in since water from the last rain had came into the area on the same path the mud came when it washed out their home. Standing in front of their house, I could see the path the mud had taken, and I don't blame the woman for being fearful, but where else was she to go? Pedro talked about how their neighbors had thought about building a wall to block the mud. That might help, but it wouldn't shove the problem. Who would pay for the wall? Where would they put it? Would it work?

As we progressed through the different developments, the visible damage became worse and worse. The mud came through so quickly and so high it was astonishing to see how much it had wiped out. As I looked at the places where houses once stood, I wondered if the missing people were there too. Toys and shoes lay amongst the trash and rubble, some still partially submerged in the mud. It was hard to think the dolls once were held by little girls running through their houses and the shoes were once strewn about the floor. It was easier for me to think of the shoe on the floor than on the foot of a child. I hoped the wearer of the shoes I saw wasn't under the pile of mud the shoe lay on.

Tall walls were splashed with mud, and devastating images of a rushing brown river invaded my thoughts. I imagined screaming, crying, fear. I couldn't take too much more, my imagination was driving me crazy. How can these people live here and look at this each day? I turned again to the children, who laughed and smiled as they ran barefoot through the destruction. Through their lack of concern I remembered that life just goes on and you can't dwell on the past. The people I had the honor to meet this day have been through so much, and still they smile, they say "Buenas Dias", they show off their rebuilt homes...they've moved on, and they don't let the fear of what's to come consume them.

Jacquie

go to May 21