Guatemala Day 17-18

***Unfortunately, I don't have any photos from these two days. I really wanted to spend more time experiencing it than trying to record that experience***

On Monday, we visited a Children's Immigration shelter right here in Xela (surprisingly only a few blocks from Parque Central). We're at the end of our 3 week program now and I can confidently say that this is the single most impactful thing I've witnessed here. We got there a little early to get a tour of the facilities. It was small. But cozy. It was bright, warm, welcoming. The kitchen staff had prepared and set hot meals out for the kids. Shortly thereafter, they hustled us outside and asked us to create a barricade of sorts for when the bus came. To prevent kids from running away. The bus came and the kids descended from the bus. And they really were just kids. Right around the age of all my Apple Tree volunteers. Some of them even looked kind of similar or dressed similarly. Immediately I felt myself choking back my feelings because I wanted to participate which would be rendered impossible if I were to become a complete blubbering mess. So yea. I choked back my feelings and watched the kids expressions. Some people started looking around and I could feel the unease rippling through our group as a girl with two black eyes and other visible injuries stepped off the bus. I felt awful that we were gawking at her. I hated that we were put in this position again after everything that had happened at the public hospital. Still I couldn't stop looking at them. It hurt me to see the kids laughing and smiling and joking as they hopped (there really was a spring in their step) off the bus and hurried into the building. Some avoided making eye contact, others stared right back at me. I hate to think that I have any authority to pretend to know what they were thinking or feeling, but I couldn't help but think that this was a kind of defense mechanism because they don't have the emotional tools to deal with this kind of situation.

The first thing they do is eat. Hot food. Good food. Familiar food. Possibly for the first time in months. Once the kids got settled, the staff welcomed them and prayed for them before their meal. Some of them were already nearly halfway done with their plates. They spent a few minutes praying aloud altogether and I was surprised to see that kind of prayer outside of a Korean church. Some of the kids just bowed their heads. Others prayed earnestly and I saw a few wipe tears from their eyes. It was short so they could eat.

We walked outside to have a discussion and talk to some of the staff. They explained that after their meal, they have interviews with a counselor to see whether they can be released to their families (checking for abuse, situation that forced them to leave home, whether the families are actually their families and not smugglers or traffickers, etc.). If they have time (esp. the kids whose families live far away and are still on their way), they meet with a psychiatrist and a doctor. They can shower. They have a nice bed to sleep on. Within 48 hours all these kids will be gone - either back home with their parents or some foster care system that's just as if not more broken than the one in the USA. About 90% of these kids will try to sneak into the USA again.

At this point I had shut down all my feelings. I don't think I said anything during our discussion afterwards. Nancy cried a little bit and she apologized for that. I appreciated that I wasn't the only one to feel this way. I went home. I called my dad. We talked. I cried. I will never forget the look in those kids' eyes or the way they just devoured their meal or the way the boys proudly hid their sadness or disappointment or whatever they were feeling under a mask of silliness and goofiness. I can't help but think that it all just felt so... human.

I've had some time to think about this experience and I think I've had an epiphany. Since I started working at The Apple Tree 10 years ago, I loved working with kids (albeit it may have been a defense mechanism since it was an obligation and I could choose to hate it or to love it and enjoy it). I've been good at working with kids. On another note, I've always been attracted to movies and TV shows and books where children are in search of their parents or in search of their family or they've lost their parents or anything along those lines (think: Lion King when Mufasa dies or CatDog when they go searching for their parents or The Land Before Time when Little Foot's mom dies or Finding Dory where Dory goes in search of her long-lost parents or Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt where 4 siblings are in search for their mother who abandoned them, etc.). Also, one time, I had a dream, a vision, a something idk what it was, that I was in the middle of a field and hundreds of children of all sorts of backgrounds were running towards me. At the time, I felt like God was telling me that it was my job to help these kids. All of these things, together, make me think that I have to work with kids. That I have to help these kids. I have to help these kids.

***

Today, we visited Café Red KAT. It's a restaurant/chill space/yoga house/cooking school/a bunch of other stuff that's meant to 1) revive the idea of the Guatemalan Dream (i.e. screw the American Dream, Guatemala is part of America and a future can be built here) and 2) provide not only encouragement and empowerment but education for the young generation to pursue the Guatemalan Dream. It was founded by a bunch of ex-expats - people who had left Guatemala (some as adults during the worst of the Civil War and others as children following their parents) and had come back (some as a conscious decision, others as a result of deportation).

One of the co-founders, Willy Barreno, insisted that instead of giving our pity, that we just help them grow their network. That we support them and spread the word. So here I am, trying to do my part. Here's the website of the overall organization, DESGUA: https://desgua.org/ There's a shop, internship opportunities, or just information if you want to learn more!

A point that really hit me was the trend in immigration/deportation of Guatemalans throughout the past 30 or so years. In 2001, only 1,000 Guatemalans were deported; in 2007 the number increased in 23,069; in 2008 it was 28,051; in 2009 it was 27,222; in 2013 it was 48,000; and in 2014, it was 52,000! Why these huge increases? It's a change in rhetoric. It's a change in widely held beliefs. For example, in 2001 something big happened in the ol' US of A: 9/11. Immigrants were scapegoated for that (and other) acts of terrorism, which resulted in an increase in deportations. In 2007, the economy crashed. Immigrants were scapegoated for the miserable state of the economy, which resulted in an increase in deportations.

With or without globalization, health, disease, language, culture, economics, government, everything is connected. We are all driven by the same basic things: the search for food, the search for security, the search for a better life for our children. As simple as that sounds, that is my biggest takeaway from this trip. And it's not a lesson that I just know logically or theoretically, but it's something I've become more aware of and something I've witnessed. And whether I'm in Guatemala, in the United States, in Europe, or Asia or wherever life will take me, it's something I'll forever remember. And when I feel so isolated or so different or so confused and feel like I just can't understand someone, I'll remember this lesson and know that, whether you like it or not, we are all just so goddam human and you just gotta deal with that.