option, guatemala

"A Good Samaritan might stop to help rescue people everyday that he sees drowning in a river. But at what point, does the Good Samaritan walk upstream to find out why these people keep getting pushed in the river in the first place?

I have never claimed to have a definite opinion on the effectiveness (or ineffectiveness) of a work project mission trip - when a North American church group comes to Guatemala to fund and aid in the construction of a house, latrine, or water filter for an impoverished Guatemalan community. Indeed many Guatemalans do need houses, latrines, and water filters and therefore it is good to do what one can to help them. But the greater issue is WHY, in a world where there are sufficient houses and resources for everyone to have his / her fair share, do some people have while others have not? The problem is that this world is controlled by the haves leaving the have nots floating down the river waiting to be rescued by the Good Samaritans of this world. Part of me feels extremely hopeless during these work project weeks as we seem to be merely putting a band-aid on an open wound. However, an increasingly larger side of me values the role that work, sweat, and dirt play in the breaking down of cultural barriers and opening of people's minds. The truth of the matter is that (given the resources) Guatemalans can build a house, latrine, and water filter much faster than a group of 15 white-collar gringos with delicate hands (I too am a gringo with delicate hands). However, when a North American is working alongside a Guatemalan, and pushing his / her physical limits carrying rocks or mixing cement, space is created for true human bonding - person to person, worker to worker, rather than North American to Guatemalan, rich to poor, giver to receiver. It is when one experiences this type of bonding with somebody whose life is so different that one's worldview begins to change."

and,

"I had a very special and memorable Christmas here with the Cotí family. It all began as a seemingly insignificant conversation a couple of weeks before Christmas as we were all gathered to peel the husks off of this year's corn crop. Davíd, an 18-year old cousin of my immediate host family, said, "Let's do something different, something special this Christmas. Let's go to Monterrico (a beautiful beach on the southern Pacific coast of Guatemala)." Nobody responded but everybody's facial expression communicated the same thought, "Davíd, you know we can't afford to take a trip." After the initial hesitation, Mario, my host father, jumped from his stool and raced to the kitchen with all of us closely at his heels. He sat down at the kitchen table with a pencil and paper and began asking questions . . . "How much would bus fare be from Xela to Monterrico? How much would gas cost if we used the pickup truck? How much would it cost to eat lunch while we are there? Are we going to want a snack on the way?" An hour and a half later, we had a carefully constructed budget in front of us. For all 13 of us, the entire trip would cost 1,000 Quetzales ($125). Everybody frowned knowing the number was too high. Disappointed, we adjourned for the night agreeing to meet the following Sunday after thinking about possible ways we could save up the money. As I sat there listening to this conversation, every bone in my body wanted to offer to pay for the trip - after all, what is $125 to me? As we were walking home, I could not restrain myself any longer and I pulled Mario to the side and said, "Please let me pay for some of this trip. It can be my Christmas present for everyone." He stopped walking, turned toward me, and responded, "Jamie, you are a part of this family. We will find a way together to save this money and all participate in this Christmas gift." Full of gratitude, anxiety, and frustration, I did not sleep much that night knowing that my extended family of 13 was about to begin making significant sacrifices over the next two weeks to raise a seemingly insignificant $125. We sold half of our chickens, some 100-pound bags of our precious corn, and we ate less meat over the following weeks. As a family, not as individuals, we saved up the 1,000 Quetzales and began to get really REALLY excited about going to the beach."

--jamie beasley, 2002/2003 YAV to guatemala