Why Its All Worth It

One question people often ask me when I tell them that I’m interested in working in international development is “But that’s such a hard thing to do, working with starving kids all the time. How can that be worth it when you’re never going to be able to even make a dent? There are so many poor people.” Some people think it’s naïve, that I think I’m going to be able to make a huge difference and save humanity from poverty and war single-handedly. I often get looks meant to convey that they think it’s sweet that I want to help people, but that surely it’s just a phase and soon I’ll grow up and want to be a lawyer or some other real profession.

Often, especially when far away from family and friends, facing the little everyday inconveniences of living in a developing country like Guatemala, I often wonder myself. Poverty is such an overwhelming reality. In a world where 3 billion people-- almost half of humanity-- live lives of misery and suffering on less than $2.50 a day, a world where 25,000 children die each day due to poverty, what difference can one person make? What difference can even one group of people make?

Working at La Asociación Nuestros Ahijados (Our Godchildren- because the children are sponsored by “godparents” in the US) has really changed my perspective on what it means to “make a dent” in poverty. The organization was started by one man, Patrick Atkinson, during the time of Guatemala’s civil war. It began when he allowed an orphan street boy to share in his dinner at his house one evening, and the next day the boy brought some of his friends who also had no home or food to eat. Soon, Patrick could not bear making them face the dangers of sleeping outside in a country that is not safe for anyone, let alone children, after dark (and still isn’t). Soon he had twenty-some children living in his house. In 1991 ANA was started to provide foster homes and education for all of the children. Today, it has grown to include over 12,000 children and family members a year who are being supported by the program.


("Weiss", one of my favorite children ever)

ANA exists to help the poorest of the poor—these are people who sleep on dirt floors, have no sandals, and are lucky to get one meal a day. They live in rural huts, sleep with goats and pigs, and have never even touched a computer. Their fathers are often abusive or alcoholics, their mothers unable to find a job, and their prospects are very bleak. Only 50% of children in Guatemala get to attend school—23% are forced to work outside the home from ages as young as 5 or 6. It is not unusual at all to be walking down the street here and see 6 year old boys offering to shine your shoes or a 10 year old girl alone at a booth selling fruit. The situation for most people is really desperate.

If it weren't for the project, these kids would have a horrible childhood. At the program they provide not only a beautiful school with large playground, fully-stocked library, and bubbling fountains, but two meals a day for the kids, free health and dental care, and various other programs designed to allow them to grow up in a loving and supportive environment. Orphaned and abused children are taken out of their situation and placed with foster families, paid by ANA.

Every day at work I hear the sounds of laughter and shrieks of pure unbridled happiness, the kind that exists on in the realm of childhood. Often I’m greeted by a group of 8 year olds with hugs and a faltering sentence in English (they love to test that out with real gringos) or a smiling little girl comes to chat for a bit during recess. What’s most amazing about the project is that all of the good intentions and programs they have really do seem to produce results (quite unique in the realm of aid-work, unfortunately). Instead of imposing on the community what they think they need, they’ve really made an effort to listen and to address the issues, no matter how small, that really exist (for example—because boys were getting pulled out of school because their mothers said they were needed to collect firewood, the school now provides firewood each week for those who have perfect attendance). Every year, hundreds of the program’s kids who never would have even gotten to middle school otherwise, get scholarships to universities. Many of them later come back to work in the program as teachers, doctors, or support staff.
And although the ANA project cannot help everyone—in the scheme of all the poor in the world a few hundred at a time is only a dent—it reminds me of a story I heard on a Villanova break trip:

One day, a man was walking along the beach, enjoying the morning sun and cool breeze from the ocean.
Suddenly, far off in the distance, he saw what looked like someone dancing. But as he drew closer, the man noticed that it was a little girl picking up starfish from the shore and tossing them back into the ocean.
As he approached the girl, he paused for a moment, kind of puzzled, then asked, "Young lady - why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?"
And she replied…"Well, the sun is up, and the tide is going out. If I leave these starfish on the beach, the sun will dry them up and they will die."
And the man said “But there are thousands of starfish washed up all along this beach for miles! You can’t possibly make a difference!"
The young girl thought for a moment, then slowly leaned over, and carefully picked up another starfish from the sand. And with the starfish in hand, she turned to the man and gently said "You may be right, but it will make a difference to this one"



(above are pictures of Maria, when she first came into the malnutrition center, and then when she left)

The babies who come through our malnutrition center—so frail and near death when they first arrive, often in the arms of a worried mother who does not yet fully realize how sick her child is, his life is changed when he leaves months later. He is now a few pounds heavier and his parents have been trained in proper nutrition or given a micro-finance loan to raise chickens. This baby’s life is changed because of the program. The girls who are rescued by our human trafficking officers from people who abuse and degrade them (the youngest trafficking victim we have now is 7 years old)-- these kids get a second chance at life. The mothers who attend the weekly “Mothers Meeting” and finally have people give them tools and education needed to empower them and their families, and feel a sense of dignity and empowerment for the first time. Tell it to these people that nothing we can do can make a difference.

It’s true that poverty is a very complicated and difficult issue—but it is the problem of our time. Just like slavery in the 18th century, some day human beings will look back and be astounded that in the 21st century, a time when half of the world had ipods, high-speed internet, and TiVo, the other half of humanity was literally allowed to live like animals. As we’ve discovered time and time again, when the collective intelligence and will of humanity decides to solve a problem, it will be changed. And perhaps that change will come about slowly, one person at a time. Even if its only one life at a time, it makes all the difference to that one person. And for me, being part of that difference makes it all worth it.

Pacaya!

Tuesday was the big day! For a long time I’ve been trying to climb Pacaya but something always stood in the way. Finally, I found a reputable tour group to take us there, and the day was bright and sunny- not a cloud in the sky. Pacaya is an active complex volcano near Antigua, which first erupted approximately 23,000 years ago, and has erupted at least 23 times since the Spanish conquest of Guatemala. After being dormant for a century, it erupted violently in 1965, and has been erupting continuously since then. Apparently sometimes it even showers Antigua with ash. But scientists monitor it, and usually its safe to climb.


We met our wonderful tour guide, Wilbur, and also in our group was a couple from England on a year-long sabbatical from the real world. After an hour and a half long car ride we reached the base of Pacaya. Pacaya is an interesting case in how innovation in development can work. Safety conditions here at any given time in Guatemala are precarious. One month a volcano or an area of town might be safe, the next month the most dangerous place in the country. Right now Agua, the volcano closest to Antigua, is not safe because of bandits. Tourist agencies and groups go with the flow and change their schedules and tour locations accordingly. In the late ‘90s until only a few years ago Pacaya was extremely dangerous, with tourist muggings, rapes, and assaults happening alarmingly frequently. Because of pressure from tourist businesses as well as tourists themselves who wanted a chance to see the lava without risking their lives, the government did something extremely rare for Guatemala- it actually took action. They made Pacaya a national park, which means that they can charge admittance fees (only $4 still I think) and have guides available for hire at the base of the volcano. Thus, all the locals who live in poverty underneath the volcano who previously had believed that tourists were coming in and taking advantage of their country and sites without giving anything back, and thus felt it appropriate to take it forcefully, now work for the park. Over 100 are deployed as security for the tourists on the volcano, standing amidst the jungle with walkie-talkies, always keeping an eye out as groups hike up. The rest work as guides or as the fee-collectors at the bottom of the volcano. Now the extra money made from groups going up goes towards upkeep of the village and of Lago Amitlan, a few miles away. A very interesting solution, and one that has worked wonders so far, with no reported assaults or robberies since the solution was invented.





As we got out of the car to begin our trek, a herd of young boys crowded around trying to sell us walking sticks. Nearby guides with horses for those too lazy to actually do the 2 hour hike up to the top stood ready (although as we hiked I became more and more convinced that to trust a pony on these treacherous and slippery rocks just feet away from a steep drop would be suicidal). In fact these men with the ponies followed us up the trail about a quarter of the way up, just in case. Every time we stopped to take a breath their eyes lit up, seeing the dollar signs already. A little 13 year old boy named Jorge tagged along with us as well, as he is the friend of Wilbur and helps him out when he has larger groups sometimes. His energy knew no bounds, and his chatter kept us entertained the whole grueling way to the top.



The worst part was the very last stretch before the cone, where the rocks and dirt turned to about a 2 foot deep black sand-like substance which was really hard to wade through up a steep cone—for every three steps we took forward we went back at least two. But the views were fantastic, and Wilbur was full of information about the volcano. A mangy and skinny looking dog named Tigra tagged along with us for a bit, and Wilbur said she was born on the volcano and has been there the past 4 years. Later she shared in our lunch.



When at last we reached the top, we got to roast marshmallows (“angelitos”) on a long stick over the lava. At some points the lava was runny and at some it simmered a bright orange-red under the big rocks of coal. It was extremely frightening to walk too close to the lava because we could feel the heat come through our sneakers, and the “rocks” we were walking on were really just coals that sometimes began to crumble under our feet. The heat on our faces felt like a sauna. It was truly a unique experience. After hanging out at the top for a while we “skied” down the black sand cone and set up camp for a nice Guatemalan lunch—rolls, squashed avocados, black beans from a baggie, and vegetables. After a very tiring morning, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted more delicious food. Because of how steep the volcano is, it took us only about 45 minutes to get back down, at times almost running down to keep from falling flat on our faces. Despite being known for my lack of coordination I only fell badly once and skinned my hand a little bit, not a complete disaster for me.

Day of the Dead

The Day of the Dead is one of the most sacred times for Guatemalans in the whole calendar year. It is the one day each year when they believe they can commune with their deceased loved ones, that they can return to earth from the spiritual realm. Its a great tradition and a great holiday. Most people spend the day with family in the cemetary with all of the tombs of their dead. They eat there, sit and talk, and listen to music. They decorate the tombs with flowers and also in some towns leave food and drink on the tomb for the dead to enjoy.


In two towns near us there are also great kite festivals. Kite flying is a tradition here around this time of year because it is believed that the kites reach up to heaven and therefore link the living with the dead who reside above. During the kite festival, only one day a year, kites are flown in the cemetaries.




For over 100 years in the town of Santiago there is also a kite competition between children and adults who spend months making gigantic colorful kites that have themes such as "Peace for everyone in the world" and "How beautiful Guatemala is". These kites are then displayed upright for the whole crowd to see.



I don't think there is anything more uniquely Guatemalan than Santiago's kite flying-- the colorful and flower scented graves (where people sit to watch the kites), children running around flying their little kites, typical Guatemalan food being sold by vendors in typical dress everywhere. And most of all the fine crafstmanship and love of color and beauty- this is something the Guatemalan people have never forgotten. I'm not sure that the dead really come back today to join their families in the literal sense, but there definitely is no denying that today in Guatemala is a very special day.