Otra aventura

On Saturday, Nov. 11, I returned from my 7th trip to Guatemala. For some reason, this number feels significant. It carries the weight of a place that I visit often, not just a place for vacation. 

The first time I arrived at Escuela Integrada in the summer of 2017, the yellow-bibbed kindergartners stole my heart. Many of the same kids graduated from 6th grade this year. Seeing the same families year after year as their kids grow and change—and as they start to see the possibilities education unlocks for their families—has had a significant impact on my life.

When I arrived on this trip, it felt different. I’ve landed in Guatemala six other times with a variety of strong emotions, ranging from nervousness to discomfort to anticipation to joy, and everything in between. This time, it was home. 

I walked outside the crowded welcome area of the airport and found Antonio right away. He’s been driving for GRACES trips for several years now. It was just me on this leg of the journey, with other supporters and guests arriving in a couple days and my husband unable to come on this trip. 

The drive through Guatemala City is always an adventure, with cars getting within centimeters of one another. My gut reaction is usually somewhere between trying not to watch and pushing my right leg against the floorboards, thinking that will somehow help the car stop. 

The total distance from La Aurora International Airport to central Antigua is just over 24 miles with the expected travel time, on average, right around an hour. Traffic last Saturday was at a standstill because of a motorcycle accident, and the projected travel time was just over three hours. 

I’ve gone from the airport to central Antigua enough times to know that there are routes all over the city to try to get out, with cars flying down one-ways and around street corners like the entire city is an Indy 500. I would be shocked if I went the same way more than once. 

I mentioned this to Antonio as he tried to find us a way out of the city with the present gridlock. Soon enough, he shifted into low gear and climbed up and out of the city toward a gated community. He presented his ID, said “buenos dias” and up went the gate. His expression was like he had just won the lottery—the security guards rarely let commonfolk through this secret passageway. 

The little Fiat-type car navigated through side streets no bigger than an alleyway and up the steep inclines of Mixco. Antonio rolled down his window occasionally to ask if we were still going the right way to San Lucas Sacatepequez. I snapped a couple photos and he laughed at my “Oh boy” expressions as we continued to climb up roads that would never fly in the U.S. Several times, in the lowest of low gears, he inched the car up sideways until we could get enough umph to continue upward. I nearly got out just to help the car keep going up! 

We began our descent and found our way out to the main road once more, saving at least an hour of drive time on the way to Antigua, with a bit of a sigh of relief from both of us. 

Antonio drove for the group the rest of the week, piloting one of two microbuses that traveled in tandem on home visits, up to the school’s new location in Jocotenango, and out to the reaches of Pastores and Parramos to visit two other project sites. 

One of the journeys included navigating over a waist deep trench where people were actively working to repair the road. The bus had to straddle the trench on soft dirt next to a cliff to climb to the final destination, which put several participants into a deep panic prayer mode, refusing to look out the windows. Another trip, required Antonio to put the bus in reverse and back up an entire street to get to a family’s home. 

Each time I exited the bus, he looked at me and exclaimed “otra aventura!” with an ear-to-ear grin. It became our shared experience, but more importantly a profound trust that he was going to get us where we needed to go, no matter the obstacles or the inherent risks.

Guatemala is not a place without obstacles or without risks, but the gift of its people is worth every moment of adventure or uncertainty. 

As I’ve grown in relationship with the Guatemalan people, I’ve learned far more about how deeply they care for one another and for human life in its inherent dignity:

• Antonio’s willingness to drive crazy places to make sure the gringos in his care get to where they need to be safely 
• Lauren and Kevin’s sacrifice to give everything they have to provide for a family of girls who lost their mother when they were very young 
• Hernan and Bradlers’ dedication to serving and leading Escuela Integrada with integrity and grit 
• Families hospitality in welcoming visitors into their homes, offering refreshments from their very limited income (the families we visit make on average $240 per month) 
• Nonprofit leaders collaboration with local partners to improve access to education, clean water and modern medicine

When I return from a trip, I experience a range of feelings, one of which is a deep sadness at the disconnectedness and self-serving nature that plagues the American people. We are quick to spend money on material goods, travel and entertainment, but slow to mend broken relationships or give of ourselves in a way that might be out of our comfort zones or cause some personal discomfort.

As a person of faith, I see a profound connection between what the people in Guatemala believe and how they treat one another. There is a sense of care for the other that makes visible Matthew 22: 36-40: 

“Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?”

He said to him, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.

This is the greatest and the first commandment.

The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.

The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments.”

To pull from a recent Magnificat reflection [emphasis mine], “The Beatitudes turn earthly standards upside down. Poverty, not wealth, is privileged as leading to the kingdom of heaven. Why? Perhaps because it reflects the reality of the human condition before God. Having many possessions gives the illusion of power, the tempting suggestion that we can ‘be like God… Poverty helps to remove the illusion of independence and reveals the truth that our very essence is an unearned gift.” 

Our very essence is an unearned gift.  If our very essence is an unearned gift, we must give it away for the greater glory of God. 

The Guatemalan people live this truth wholeheartedly, despite what little they have. Material goods are meant to be shared, hospitality meant to be extended, and love for one another the norm rather than the exception. They give from what they don’t have, not from their excess. This is all done in accordance with their deep faith that we need Jesus.  

Antonio drove with care and concern for his passengers the entire week, some of whom he knew before the trip, some he just met. He did not complain when we were late, changed final destinations or made his day longer. He, like so many of the Guatemalan people the organization works with, gives of himself over and over again without hesitation. 

Coming back to the U.S., I pray that I can carry with me that spirit of self- gift, especially amidst the craze of holiday consumer culture. It’s a great gift to give yourself away for the greater glory of the Lord.

When we arrived at the airport one final time, after another long drive, Antonio shook my hand and said, “la última aventura! Hasta la próxima.” (the last adventure, until the next time).

Until the next time… 

-The Faithful Writer