Sophomore Teaches Children in Guatemala

It all started back in November of last year, when I applied to go on a mission trip with my church––a trip with my brother and 20 other people who would become some of my closest of friends. Little did I know that his trip to a tiny town in Guatemala is a trip that would change my life and my perspective for the better.

Jumping forward five months, it was finally time to embark on a trip of a lifetime. After packing in one suitcase, realizing it was too small, and repacking in another, it was time. Months of preparation, raising funds, and planning lead to this moment. It was time to get in the car, travel to the airport, say my goodbyes to my parents, and hop on the plane.

By the time March 10 rolled around, I couldn’t pay attention in school, and I couldn’t think about anything but Guatemala. When I finally arrived at the airport, it was bittersweet: I knew that I was going to go make a difference in the lives of 150 elementary-age kids, but, on the other hand, I was saying goodbye to my parents for 10 days and leaving the country for my first time without them.

Day 2:

Once the hour and a half flight from Kansas City to Houston, one night in the hotel, and another three hour flight to Guatemala City were all over, I had finally landed in the country where my life would be altered.

Flexibility––one of the traits my youth pastor Nate stressed before the trip even started. No sooner did we land in Guatemala City that this very virtue was tested. After our group had exchanged our money, we went go grab our bags off of the carousel and get on the buses. That’s when my friend Tori realized her bag wasn’t there, and instead she had accidentally retrieved an identical bag that belonged to a guy in a different group: he had taken the wrong bag, and left Tori with his. There was a moment of freak out, but she handled it well, and the rest of our group just went to a parking lot and played Mafia, a game where the main idea is to figure out who the members of the circle are in the mafia and kill them before they kill you (without doing any real damage).  No one complained, and no one was agitated that we weren’t exactly on schedule. Our group was flexible, a great sign for the days to come.

Day 3:

Zip-line day. The day I had been looking forward to for months. This was the day that I was going to go on the tallest zip-line in the world. It was between two beautiful, forested mountains about 600 feet in the air. It had an amazing view of Lake Atitlan, the lake by the town, and the beauty that Guatemala is known for.

I love heights. I can’t recall a moment that I’ve ever been nervous about being up high. I love roller coasters, and, to me, the inch-thick cable and position  in a harness was just another roller coaster. The scariest part of the day was the windy ride up the side of the mountain to actually get to the zip-line. We had two little Toyota pick-up trucks complete with a metal bar in the middle and metal gates around the sides. We fit 12 of us in one truck and 13 in the other. The ride was an hour of standing and attempting to balance amidst a dozen other people. Our diver had to lay on the horn every time he turned, because there was no way to see around the corner and the roads were so narrow that it was hard for two cars to pass at once. The ride was well worth the view and the wonderful time I had on what seemed like the top of the world.

Day 5:

I’m by no means an artistic person. I’ve never taken an art class at East, and I didn’t do very well in my elementary art classes, yet I still signed up to teach first through sixth graders art for four days. My only reasoning behind signing up was that it sounded more fun than English, science, or P.E.  It ended up being one of the most rewarding and exhausting things I’ve ever done: I volunteered to take the mural day, and to teach the kids about something I knew very little about.

In one of our many Sunday morning meetings before the trip, one of my group members mentioned the idea of the entire school in Guatemala making a mural. Each one of us cut out about 20 pieces of muslin fabric into one foot by one foot squares and packed them into our designated art suitcase. When we got there the kids divided themselves into groups of two or three and decorated the square with something important to them. It was amazing to see how creative they were––it seemed like the squares all had mountains, and something to do with God. At first I was confused about why the mountains and lake were so important to them, but then I realized  that the scenery was all they knew. These kids were born in San Juan La Laguna, Guatemala and the farthest most of them will ever go is about four hours across a lake and through the mountains to Guatemala City.

Here I was, about 1,500 miles away from home, and they might not ever leave their little town. It was so eye-opening, and even somewhat humbling. Teaching and playing with the kids was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

Day 9:

After our time in San Juan we took the boat back across the lake and hopped on a bus to travel to Antigua, one of the most famous cities in Guatemala. The city was crowded with tourists from around the world and filled withwonderful Guatemalan culture. The market itself was cloaked in beautiful, bright colors and unique handmade goods. It was the time of our trip to just wind down and have a little fun as a group.

The second day we were in Antigua we had the opportunity to sign up for an excursion hiking up one of the three active volcanoes in Guatemala. On May 6, 2010 at 6:30 p.m. the volcano exploded and covered the surrounding villages and cities with ash up to knee height. By now, the volcano is pretty much calm with the exception of continuous smoke billowing from the peak. We had to leave at 6 a.m. to make the hour drive to the base of the volcano, but the rising sun and the views on the way there totally made it worth it.

The hike to the top of the volcano only took about two hours, but it was practically straight up and comparable to hiking on sand––the further we went along, the more desolate the volcano became. The trees got fewer and farther between, and there was no wildlife to speak of. By the time we reached the top it was as if we were hiking on Mars. It was desolate and covered in sharp little lava rocks, but the view was amazing. I could see all of Guatemala City in one direction, and the surrounding farms and pacific ocean on the other side. It was one of the most amazing sights I’ve ever seen.

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Going to Guatemala isn’t something that everyone gets to do their sophomore year of high school, and for getting the opportunity to do so, I’m very fortunate. The trip wasn’t something that I just went on to have a good time or because it’s what people do when they reach a certain age in high school at my church: it was something that I knew would change my life, and help me to grow closer to not only the people around me, but also God.

Spending time with the kids of the town was so much more rewarding for me than relaxing on a beach for five days. I’m not saying that relaxing on a beach is a bad thing, it’s just not what I thought was the best, or most valuable way of spending my spring break. I loved the time I had to build relationships with my friends here in the U.S., but also the new friends I’ve made in Guatemala. The new people I met and was able to spend time with I now consider to be very close friends of mine, and brothers and sisters in God’s family.

My life is now something I want to use to help others and show them the love of God. I don’t just want to sit on my butt my whole life and not try to make a difference in that of someone else. By going to Guatemala I’ve started to realize that making a difference in someone’s life is so much more valuable than anything else I could ever do.