human connection...

In previous semesters I have spent my last week in Guatemala at 'the mountain school' - a Spanish school in a rural area of Guatemala near Colomba. This semester (since our group is mini) we all ventured out together to a new rural community about a half an hour from Xela.

Mornings consisted of Spanish class (for me as well! still working on the subjunctive, unfortunately enough) and the afternoons were filled with activities teaching us about issues the community is facing and initiatives the people are taking in response. We dove into topics such as immigration, water, deforestation, education (i.e. lack of funding for education) and cooperatives. I learned an incredible amount, all of this set in a breathtaking corn'field' tucked away in the mountains.

What I will most remember from the week though is, without doubt, our host-family. Grandma, Grandpa, Mom and her four children were, without exception, utterly endearing. Home stays are a part of my job, and while I always appreciate getting to chat with people and hear different perspectives, I don't generally expect to get attached in a week anymore. I think that the 6 year old daughter in this family stole our hearts the first day and throughout the week we (Joe and I) only grew to appreciate them more.

They were just such strong people. People who have worked incredibly hard, have been integral in the creation of their community, have advocated for people's rights, who continue, with what little they have, to provide for both their children but also a widow from the war and neighbors who have even less than they do. It was humbling and heartwarming to see the ways in which they battle for the good of their family, of their community.

And yet, so often it was just heartbreaking to spend time with them. Grandma would walk into the kitchen to see all of her grandchildren eating and smile and say 'mis pollitos' (my little chickens) -- you could tell that she was content, proud even, to see them all eating. And yet, they weren't sure where their next meals would come from.

I could write much more about them, but really, what it boils down to is that they humanized poverty for me. I wish that all of my loved ones could meet this family, could see this community, could laugh with them and be touched by the way in which they continue to fight when the odds are impossible. I wish that all of my loved ones could see this poverty up close, could hear about it's viscious cycle from those most affected, would be filled with the just anger of knowing that, despite their beauty and diligence and love, these kids just don't really have a shot.

Small comfort comes from the fact that it wasn't just me out there last week. I was there with 8 students who were hearing the same stories, seeing the same injustices. I am increasingly convinced that only through human connections will we be truly motivated to change...and I guess that's why I love this work.