When my dad was here, we had the chance to visit our sponsor child. Our previous one has since grown up and is teaching in the schools (I get to work with her on Wednesdays). So, my Dad has not met our new sponsor child, Miriam, who is in my grade 5 class in Purulha. I see her every week, and have met some of her family, but I have not been to her house. Here are some things I noticed when I was there:
- they do not have electricity in their house, not even a lightbulb. (Do I really expect her to do homework after dark by candelight?)
- in the kitchen there are chickens, kittens, and a wood cookfire (I would not call it a stove)
- the floor is dirt and her bed is wooden planks (no mattress)
Visiting Miriam and her family made me glad our family can sponsor her and help them out. They have so little and are so appreciative of the sponsorship program.
Miriam Coc Tot, our sponsor child
Their kitchen cook fire
Their family in front of their house
(Her dad is at work and her oldest brother no longer lives at home)
Over the past 5 months I have been getting to know a lot of the teachers as friends. Yesterday I had the chance to visit one of the teacher assistants at his house. The situation is so similar to that above, yet it hit me so differently. Here's what hit me:
- Walking up to the house, I almost slipped a number of times because the path was so steep and slippery with mud, even though it wasn't raining and I was wearing my hiking boots. I commented that probably not many have cars in his neighbourhood. He said, there are 2 and they leave them at the bottom of the hill, along with the bicyles (it's that steep).
- They have 1 chair in their house. I felt awkward being offered the only chair.
- His dad works for the Municipality, gardening or shovelling up garbage after market days. He makes Q1500 a month, which is less than $200 for a family of 6 (8 if you include the 2 oldest who have moved out). His mom makes and sells tortillas twice a day, and it probably takes her all day to cook the corn, grind it into flour, make tortillas walk down into town, and sell them, twice. I spend the same amount of money here a month as they, but only on myself.
- I asked if they had a shower (it shouldn't be that hard, with the rain they get and gravity). Their bathroom is a shack thrown together in the backyard. No shower, no sink, and probably no mirror or lightbulb. He said they'd like to put in a real bathroom with a shower but they'd have to build a wall first so the ground doesn't wash away in the rain. They don't have money for a wall.
- I noticed a bookmark that had fallen on the floor and that had obviously gotten wet. He said that when it rains hard, the water leaks in one side of his room. Looking at the sheet metal, planks, and sticks that make up their house, I am not surprised, yet somehow still surprised. They built their house 10 years ago, and it's still like it is.
- I felt like I was camping: wood cookfire (no marshmallows though), dirt floor, and the rain sounded like it does on my tent.
- He's a university architect student. He showed me some house designs he had made. Is it not ironic that he can plan a beautiful 2 storey house yet lives in a shack?
- His parents don't speak Spanish. His dad knows enough to communicate with his boss, and his mom enough to sell tortillas. His dad came from Coban, his mom from Purulha - in both places they speak Q'ekchi, but in Tactic people speak Poqomchi. So the family speaks Q'ekchi at home, Poqomchi with neighbours, and Spanish when necessary. He is learning English, his fourth langauge.
- They eat one meal a day (supper). Any other food they might get is the meal provided by the sponsorship program at the schools.
- I teach 2 of his siblings, one in elementary school and one in high school. They have sponsors.
I don't know why it hit me so hard that he is at the same poverty level as my sponsor child. I guess because at school, we're on par. We're equals. But when I visit his house, he's humbled in showing me his house, and I'm humbled because I have so much in comparison. It's embarrassing.
The "bathroom" for a family of 8
His mom cooking corn for tortillas in their kitchen
The view while walking down the path into town
House Scenerio 3:
I live in the Yellow House with Julie and Ingrid. We live in the downstairs of this 2-storey cement block house with tile floors. The walls are painted (though the paint comes off if I sweep too close to the wall). There are flush toilets and electric-heat showers. We have a stove, microwave, and access to the clothes washer upstairs. Our front door locks, there are curtains on the windows, and the beds have proper mattresses. We have cloth-covered chairs in the kitchen and sofas in the living room. And we have wireless internet access. In Guatemalan standards, it is a mansion, a nicer house than they will ever live in. Yet, we still find things to complain about. The toilet leaks, the tap drips, there are flies, ants, bedbugs, and other assorted bugs. The windows don't seal. The traffic on the road is really loud, starting at 5am. The shower is either too hot or too cold. And things smell mildewy because it is so wet and humid in Tactic. We have no carpet, no TV, no dishwasher, no laundry dryer, no hot water tank, and no yard. In Canadian standards, it's a sacrifice living here.
But really. Who am I to complain? What gives me, someone in the wealthiest 5% of the world, the right to complain about living conditions? The only reason we don't have food in the cupboards is that we were too busy or too lazy to go buy food - not for lack of money. I have never had to go hungry. If anything, I eat more than I need to. They have a saying in Salaman, the capital city of Baja Verapaz, that goes something like this: Don't give me too much, don't give me too little, so I will still be grateful. This lines up with a proverb that says "Don't make me either rich or poor; just give me enough food for each day. If I have too much, I might reject you and say, 'I don't know the Lord.' If I am poor, I might steal and disgrace the name of my God." (Proverbs 30:8-9)
The Yellow House where I am living
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