While I am trying very hard to settle into this foreign country and culture and resist my typical American-ness the one place I cannot seem to overcome, or even process the culture shock is the level of poverty. Having never left the cushy comfort of the United States prior to this the most experince I´ve had with extreme poverty is in the form of our homeless. However there´s a vast difference between coming into contact with homeless- who are "others" within a generally well-off society and a culture where poverty is the norm. From the moment I landed in Guatemala City I found myself watching, wide-eyed in amazement, as miles and miles of worn buildings, dirty streets, and crudely built homes wizzed by. I watched a construction crew toss cinder blocks through the center of a roughly build wooden scaffolding, as men balanced every ten feet up caught them and tossed them up to the next. No machines, no OSHA regulations- just crude manpower.
As we wound up the mountain the dense green hillside was peppered with homes. They are small and boxy. The "nicer" ones are made of weather-worn stucco, the more humble- of sheet metal assembled into walls and a roof. From each a string of colorful laundry streches out like Tibetian prayer flags. Also along the windy road from Guatemala City to Antigua was a steady stream of foot traffic- women and men with various packages perched upon their heads. Fruit, firewood, water, etc. I saw one woman who had stopped to rest- her feet planted on either side of a dirt ditch, her legs forming a tent under which her small child played.
In Antigua and Santiago (and many other towns I´m sure) the streets are filled with women and children who will approach you will textiles, neclaces, toys and other items for sale. I can only meet their persistance with "no Gracias". I feel ashamed by how uncomforable it makes me. I drop my eyes to the cobblestones as I pass them, watching the water trickle between the uneven stones-hoping I will not have to turn another child with sad dark eyes down.
I feel ashamed that I don´t know how to behave, that my last 28 years have given me no context with which to process this. However I´m also incredibly greatful that I am here, and am a little less ignorant.
You write well and your pictures nicely emphasize what you are saying. I have often thought if more people traveled outside the US there would be a much better understanding of the luxury we enjoy... and the price other people pay for that.
ReplyDeleteit's amazing to realize that there are people who live on this same planet in such astoundingly different conditions. not everyone is lucky enough to be confronted with this fact first-hand, and even some who do have the tendency to take the out of sight, out of mind, approach. sometimes it's easier to live not acknowledging the bad things in life that are out of your control. but i think it's great to know, because it makes you appreciate your own life and privilege much more.
ReplyDeleteas far as feeling ashamed about turning down little kids, don't. while there is legitimate poverty in guatemala, you also have to realize the people there know that you're american and cute little children who are pestering are also hoping to monopolize on your sense of sadness or guilt. this happened to me even in paris, which is by all means a beautiful and wealthy city, but because i was an american...