It has seemed lately that I have been struggling with the differences between the way I think (US) and the thought and behavior patterns of the Guatemalans. It is so easy to focus on the negative differences. This past week, God has reminded me of the benefits of these differences, and what I can learn from them.
Part One: Highway Helpers—
Wednesday, August 20
As I was trying to figure out what to do (maybe there was a tow truck in Santa Maria?), I realized that I had absolutely NO cash with me. This could be an even bigger problem than the hole!
While I was praying for the Lord to once again rescue me from my ineptness, along came a pick up truck with three guys, who immediately stopped to help. As they were assessing the situation, a large truck carrying block was coming up from Antigua. They, too, stopped to help. Finally, a third pick up stopped to see what they could contribute.
As often happens in Guatemala, there was much discussion among the men as to what would be the best course of action. My suggestion to call a tow truck was immediately dismissed by them—they were sure they could figure it out. So, I kept my mouth shut, and prayed and tried to listen to the conversation at the same time. Finally, the driver of the truck carrying block emerged as the natural leader. He jumped down into the hole to assess the situation. For the first time I realized how deep this hole was—he was up to his armpits.
He asked for my jack (luckily I had just learned the Spanish word for this—which sounds a lot like “tricky”) and I was able to locate it quickly. (I think this impressed the guys. First that I knew what they wanted, and secondly, that I, an old American woman, could find it!). They jacked up the car from underneath, as I stood in fear that somehow the car would fall on the guy in the hole.
After partially dismantling the block truck, they stuck a thick, wide board under the wheel and made a bridge. They tied a tow rope to the block truck, one guy jumped into my car to steer, and they pulled it back onto solid ground!
After reminding me to slow down, the men all climbed into their respective trucks. They even waited to leave until they were sure that there was no damage to my car which would render it not drivable.
This Guatemalan cultural difference struck me. I had been stranded on the side of the road in the US more than once (including one time with a flat tire and two little kids when I was eight months pregnant) and no one would stop to help! Here, I had almost a dozen men willing to assist. Here, in a country, where I was frequently warned to be on the watch for bandits on the highway, I had more than enough help within minutes. And they expected nothing in return; they hardly waited for me to thank them.
All I could do was thank them profusely and promise to pray for them. I apologized that I had no money to pay them for their trouble, and they didn’t seem to mind a bit. Just repeated their caution for me to drive more slowly!
Now I am embarrassed to admit that I had known I needed new tires, but kept putting off buying them, in a misguided attempt to be frugal. After this experience, I decided I was being “a penny wise and a pound foolish” and shortly I was off with Tony to buy two new front tires in Chimaltenango.
Tony wanted to go with me to make sure that the “gringa” was not taken advantage of. He did all the discussion and negotiation, and, after stopping by a number of places that sold “semi-used” tires, we decided to take Dick’s advice and go to the store where he buys his tires.
Within ten minutes, new tires were mounted on my car and we were ready to go. Only then did I realize that they did not ask my to pay for the tires until they were already on my car!
Part Two: Fantastic Food
—Friday, August 22
Earlier in the week, Tony had asked me if I would be home on Friday. I told him I planned to be, and a little while later he came and told me that Doña Berta, his mom, wanted to come and cook Pepian (a traditional Guatemalan specialty) for us. It was arranged that I would pick her up about 9 o’clock, though she had originally planned on taking the chicken bus in, if you can imagine that!
We got to her house to find her coming in from the market, carrying groceries on her head, and accompanied by her youngest son, David. He had decided to stay home from school this day so he would not miss out on the good eats.
When we arrived at our house, there was much adjusting to do. Doña Berta was accustomed to cooking over an open fire, and we used my “parilla” (grill) to set up one for her to use on our patio. She set to work charring all the ingredients needed for this dish.
Tony helped with the charring.
Flor and I were put to work peeling and chopping vegetables.
Even with four of us working diligently, it took over an hour for us to get all the ingredients ready to actually start cooking the stew. No wonder it is only made for special occasions!
Because my grill would only accommodate one large pot, Doña Berta was forced to learn to use my stove to cook the extras she wanted to prepare. She had never seen an electric stove in operation, and could not figure out where the “fire” came from, but she adjusted quickly and we shortly discovered our next challenge.
Doña Berta was a bit dismayed to discover I only had one large pot—she had planned on making a LOT of pepián, and she also needed a large pot (we’re talking 5 gallons here, folks) to cook the tamalitos. After looking at what we had available, I decided to go to the restaurant next door and ask to borrow one of their cooking pots.
Can you imagine having the nerve to do this in the US? Even more, can you imagine the reaction you would get from the restaurant?
Here, though, I returned to the house within minutes, carrying the restaurant’s only large pot, which fortunately they were not using that day!
The guys sure enjoyed their meal. Since Friday, we have had “left-overs” four times, and I have about a gallon of the sauce in the freezer to save for another time.
When I asked her what I owed her for all this, she told me that we wanted to do this for us out of friendship, and that Tony had wanted to pay for the food, since we had not done anything special to celebrate my birthday.
Again, I was humbled by the generosity of my Guatemalan friends. This family lives in one of the poorest homes I have seen in Chimaltenango. A dirt floor, and rooms consisting of boards of various sizes nailed together to form walls. And yet, Doña Berta, would not accept any payment for all her hard work. She did allow me to send home some of the left-over food, though only after repeated protesting that it was not necessary.
Part Three: House “Shopping”
—Friday, August 22
Though we have another year on our lease here in Antigua, I have begun looking at other, more economical options, for a future location of Casa de Esperanza. A few weeks ago, Dick told me about a house, owned by Esbin and Elder’s mom, which would be available for rent in about a year. Since it’s hard to find a house to accommodate wheelchairs, I wanted to talk with Doña Chita quickly about the possibility of renting her house in the future.
I stopped by one day last week to set up a time to talk with her. I was delighted to find that her daughter, Olga, who was now married with two children, was living with her. I had been quite close to Olga before her marriage, but had seen very little of her in the past few years. It was arranged that I would come back Sunday, Doña Chita’s one day off from working in the market, to see the house.
Saturday, I received a call from her confirming I was coming, and advising me not to eat Sunday dinner at home. I was to eat with them.
Imagine, going to look at a rental house, and being invited for dinner! Again, only here in hospitable Guatemala.
I arrived to a delicious meal of Pollo Encebollado, Chicken in an onion sauce. And, it was not just those who lived in the house who were there for dinner. The extended family had come to eat with me!
After dinner, I was shown the house, and invited to go with the family to see the new house Doña Chita’s brother was building for her on the family’s plot of land. Only after arriving at the new house, did I realize that she was offering to rent this new building to me, because she didn’t think the old house what nice enough for me.
Can you imagine this? After waiting years for a new house, she was willing to let us live in it because it was nicer?
I was happy to be able to honestly tell her that the design of the old house was actually better suited to people in wheelchairs. She then began asking what she would need to do to fix it up to make the old house acceptable to us.
While this house is nothing fancy, it is more that adequate. It is very similar to the house in which I lived when I first moved here: Cement floors with rooms opening onto a common patio. There are a few changes that will need to be made to make the bathroom accessible to wheelchairs, but her brother is more than happy to do this. In fact, he has already thought up ways to adapt one of the rooms into a shower/storage/laundry room.
So, it looks like we have a future site for Casa de Esperanza which will save us about $900 a month in rent. It is our hope that we can direct this money into building a permanent home which the Guatemalan association will own. Renting from Doña Chita will be the blessing which will enable us to pursue this dream!
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