Most of all the thing that struck me about Guatemala was the people. I may have read a similar sentiment somewhere about somplace before and I remember thinking it was trite. But for me, in this country, it was true. In my past travel experience I have encountered half-hearted welcome, apathy, and animosity — even right within my own borders. What struck me most about the Guatemalans was a genuineness that simply cannot be feigned. They carried no animosity and it showed in their gentle, smiling eyes. The beautiful little girl pictured here shyly presented her mother’s craftsmanship and I am quite sure she knew she’d melted my heart. I asked if I could please take her picture and, smiling proudly, her mother said yes. They both seemed surprised when I pressed some quetzals into her tiny little hands as a thank you. This was another occasion where my resolution for us to carry cash would prove to be a good thing. There was also a young boy, perhaps nine, who asked if he could shine my husband’s shoes. Burk was wearing brown Cole Haans and blue jeans; not some business suit. I was sort of appalled because I remember black shoe shines from when I was a kid and knew they deserved better. My father always walked the road between two worlds being bi-racial and I witnessed it growing up; he was half German and half Choctaw. So here this little boy was looking up at my husband all hopeful in the parking lot and my heart cracked in two. We were so glad we had some money, but when Burk tried to just give it to him he vehemently shook his head “no”. Not understanding, my husband kept trying to put some money into his shirt pocket. The boy became more and more upset; to the point where tears were glistening in his eyes and threatening to spill over. And then, in that moment, I got it. I told the boy my husband’s shoes DEFINITELY needed a shine and could he please do so? Burk just looked at me somewhat agitated until he saw me begging with my eyes to keep quiet. The boy proudly set down to work on a little wooden planked stool, where he had my standing husband propped up on one foot. I just shrugged and told Burk in English to read his paper (ironically in Spanish) and so he did. And I watched that boy grow in stature as he vigorously rubbed my husband’s scruffy walking shoes until they actually looked presentable. I know Burk felt uncomfortable but the boy most definitely did NOT want a handout. He wanted to work and earn his money, which he most certainly did. When he had finally finished my husband handed him the quetzals and the boy accepted them with a nod. It was a nod of respect that hurt me coming from one so young. But I was so thankful from lessons learned on our previous trips — ALWAYS CARRY LOCAL CURRENCY! Canadian businessman Kevin O’Leary has said, “Money equals freedom.” I agree with him and it is my fervent hope that hard workers like this little boy and little girl will gain it. Achukma hoke.
