On Nov 30, 2004, at 3:44 PM, Travis Edmunds wrote:
From: Dave Land <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Anyway, on a serious note - do you do much travelling?
Not really. This was quite a while ago, before our first son was born, and it was quite outside our normal range of travel. For our 5th wedding anniversary, we decided to join a Habitat for Humanity trip to Cantel, Guatemala, in the Western highlands.
I imagine such trips are rewarding on multiple levels. Doing good deeds, getting to travel...
More than you might think. In fact, such trips are often referred to as "reverse missions," because those of use who travel end up receiving quite a bit more than we give, learning about distant people, learning how it is to live in a place that is not so infected with "affluenza," being treated with a kind of generosity I can only hope to achieve in a lifetime.
Spectacular country, wonderful people. After the week-long work camp, we tacked on some sight-seeing in the Peten and Belize. Given the choice, we'd leave out our visit to Belize City, which was mostly unpleasant.
Do tell...
Guatemala seemed to be a kind of idyllic rural poverty (as if there were such a thing). Needy as the people were, they were gentle and generous with us. On more than one occasion, we had to refuse -- without insulting our hosts -- offers of Coca-Cola to go with our packed-in lunches (which we learned cost them a day's wages). We were only once asked for cash. Per the instructions of our Habitat for Humanity representative, we told them we could not give them cash. Generally, we were treated as helpful guests.
Belize City was -- probably still is -- urban Caribbean poverty: muddy, humid, predatory. The minute we walked out of our hotel (compound), we were stalked by persistent, vaguely threatening panhandlers. One followed us everywhere we went, including into a Chinese restaurant, where he sat at our table, blowing smoke over our food while insisting in an increasingly loud voice (as slow-motion time dragged on) that he just wanted us to "MEET DA PEOPLE!" When I offered him money, he acted offended and angry, at which point the owners of the restaurant asked him to leave. Bless them.
The next morning, we allowed ourselves to be corralled into what I remember as the space under an elevated porch that served as a restaurant. The barker who called us into the place hung out furtively by the front door. My wife insists that he was doing drug deals out there. But the breakfast was good.
Dave
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