This morning I jumped in the back of a pickup with Ann around 7:30 a.m. It was filled with school supplies for 2 separate schools. I wasn’t sure what to expect for the day. Ann and I held tightly onto the sides of that old small pickup truck for about 40 minutes while it belched black smoke and at times barely seemed to make it over the hills. The scenery around Southern Guatemala is quite dramatic. It looks a bit like the land from Jurassic Park, with plush, green vegetation and mountainous terrain everywhere.
While sitting in the back of that truck, I feel like I could have taken a thousand photos for the cover of National Geographic. I saw young boys carrying sticks on their backs 3 times the length of their own bodies, women making tortillas over a fire in their open kitchen with their babies draped in cloth along their backs, large ox-like looking cattle (I don’t know their proper name) with huge horns tied up to the sides of buildings. Men were riding horses and pulling along pack horses with several feet of branches piled on their backs. Small trucks passed us (we were going quite slow) loaded with passengers, the “carpool of Central America.” The poverty was also quite striking. Huge landsides were covered with garbage. I saw a lot of houses with dirt floors and tin roves. Small children ran around outside in their native Indigenous clothes with no shoes on, looking like they hadn’t had a bath in awhile. The further we got from Antigua, the more blank stares I got from people while I sat in the back of the pickup. I don’t know if that was because they were not use to seeing gringos or if people there just don’t smile to greet each other (I think it’s the former).
We finally arrived at our first school. Ann had filled me in a little bit about the school. It was an elementary school with 9 teachers and I think, about 300 children. I wondered where so many children came from considering we were so far removed from a local village. The teachers were very warm and inviting. Almost all of the female teachers wore beautiful Mayan clothes, but the men did not. There are only a few villages within Guatemala where men still wear their native clothes all of the time. Most wear traditional clothes, if at all, only during special events. In this particular school, students are taught in Kaqchikel, their native tongue, and in Spanish.
Gustavo rallied the teachers and then introduced me to everyone. I introduced myself and described why I was there and my background. I was a little nervous to speak to all of the teachers in Spanish, but it seemed to go well. A few teachers, one in particular, thanked Ann and Gustavo and Avivara for the supplies. Ann later told me that it is an art form in Guatemala to be able to thank someone using articulate words. We got to visit the classrooms. One sixth grade classroom managed to fit about 25 students into such a tiny room, the desks had to be moved in order for students to get out. I wouldn’t believe a class could fit in there unless I saw it with my own eyes! The classrooms had VERY little supplies. Two new buildings were being built by the government, but the projects had been abandoned with the buildings three-fourths of the way finished quite awhile ago. What a shame! They would be so useful. The teachers were happy with their supplies. We said our goodbyes to the kids, who loved hugging us and holding our hands and we were on our way to the next school.
The next school was much bigger, but next to an area that looked even more impoverished. We walked around and I introduced myself with Gustavo to some students in the classroom, they were all divided with boys on one side and girls on the other. I recently learned that only 39% of Mayan women between 15 and 64 are literate. Many girls stay at home to help their mother and in their culture many believe that school is not the place for girls. The school had a fresh coat of paint and a beautiful mural that Ann and painted with students a few months ago. Until recently, the students had to bring buckets of water up for the school to use. This year they had tapped into a water source nearby for water, but that was “temporarily (that could be forever in Guatemalan time)” broken. All of the students brushed their teeth in a tub, which was good and bad. Brushing the teeth- good. Tub of unsanitary water- bad.
When the teachers were rallied Gustavo had me introduce myself again. He really likes to put me on the spot! I introduced myself and explained while I was there, finishing with stating that I was learning Spanish too. They all clapped when I finished and said that I already knew Spanish, which I thought was very sweet! I understood just about the entire dialog that Gustavo had with the teachers, which makes me feel so good about the progression of my Spanish. It’s so amazing what a little immersion can do.
Ann told me many stories of her adventures in Guatemala on our way back in the truck. I wish I could remember them all! One particularly poignant story that she told me was about a boy that they gave a scholarship to. He is 17 and in the sixth grade. Ann says that he is really smart. The boy has several brothers and sisters. Their mother abandoned them years ago and their father died not too long ago. The boy, although he loved school, wanted to work to earn money for his siblings. His siblings told him that he is the gifted one and must attend school. Now he works during the week and goes to school on the weekend in the city. It’s such a different world here! Kids have to grow up so fast. I recently read that the average years of schooling are 5.7 for Ladinos (those of mixed Mayan and Spanish decent) and only 2.5 for those of Indigenous decent. Children start working at a young age here rather than attending school.
This whole week, other than Friday, which Gustavo says is “cerveza day,” we will be visiting schools. I feel so lucky to get this insiders’ view of the state of education in Guatemala!
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