Disparity of Wealth

Throughout the last handful of years I've spent a lot of time thinking and talking about the disparity of wealth that is present in our world, our communities, and even in our relationships. It effects the way people view themselves and their roles in society. A child who grows up knowing that her needs (food, shelter, clothing) are taken care of is much more likely to finish high school, to go to university, not to marry before she chooses to, simply because she has had the luxury of security.

Disparity of wealth is visible in Guatemala in many very obvious and tangible ways. In the municipality where I live and work it often correlates with race (Spanish or indigenous descent) and location (urban or rural). The reality of my current situation is that the town center, where most of the necessary basic services- the market, the health center, the municipal offices, are located is populated by the 2% of the population that is Ladino, or of Spanish descent. The outlying rural areas, where there are much higher rates of poverty and malnutrition, is where rest of the 98% of municipal citizens live, a sweeping majority of them of indigenous descent.

This disparity in my own town was almost sickeningly obvious to me a few weeks ago when I was invited to the first birthday party of a friend's child. There were over 100 guests present at the party, all of them well dressed and groomed, bearing presents wrapped in brightly colored paper. The party had clowns, pinatas, and an abundance of foods; it went on for hours. Meanwhile outside, a small hoarde of uninvited children watched the whole thing through dirty glass. Of course, not every child could have been invited, but the selection of who was and who wasn't, seemed less based on who was friends and more on socioeconomic status.

I was invited, though, and struggled with the implications of that. The party-throwers are my friends. The kids outside are my neighbors and impromptu playmates. So what am I supposed to do? I can play the outsider card, pretend I'm clueless and be friends with everyone. Or I can speak my mind, and loose friends and trust. It's a hard thing, at times, being an outsider in a new context, the very nature of our lives and jobs to analyze situations like this one that we see in our towns. So what do we do? I honestly, don't know.

Dia de Los Santos

One of the most important holidays on the Guatemalan Calendar is All Saints Day, or Dia de Los Santos. Families from all over the country return to the places where they grew up, where beloved family members have been buried to mourn and remember and honor their dead.

This year, I made my own pilgrimage to the town of Todos Santos for their yearly fair. This town is the heart of the modern day Mam speaking world and nearly all its inhabitants still wear the traditional dress of their ancestors. For the week leading up to All Saints Day the normally sleepy streets are abuzz with activity- vendors and tourists and returning family members tripling the normal occupancy of the town.

The central activity of the whole event though, are the horse races which are run by twenty-five or so local men who, by the start of the race, have been drinking for well over 24 hours. The men mount their horses and proceed to run back and forth on a half-mile track for most of the day, the goal being to remain on top of your horse. Though it may sound comedic, the results are often tragic; The tradition is that if you die in the horse race, your family will be blessed by a good harvest. Thankfully, no one was badly injured in this year’s races.

Meet the Family

For the last six months I have been living with a Guatemalan family. Edgar and Lily are both only a few years older than me. They are teachers, parents, community members and over the course of our time together have become my good friends. I wanted to dedicate a blog post to introducing them and their 3 energetic, brilliant children to all of you. Blog world, meet the fam…