As the stray dogs passed me on the street and the sound of roosters rang through my ears, I could not believe what I had gotten myself into. I was stuck in a third world country for an entire week. One of the signs on the streets said, “Bienvenidos a San Andres Itzapa.” However, I did not feel welcome in such an unknown place. I was extremely scared, anxious, and uncomfortable.
I guess this is what I signed up for. Why would anyone give up the safety of their own home to help people in Guatemala? I want to go home.
As I ventured further and further into the city, I witnessed the amount of extreme poverty that existed. There were holes in the ground for toilets, a tiny room for an entire family to sleep in, and a corrugated piece of metal that acted as a door. This was Guatemala.
On the first morning, our trip leader sent our group out to build a stove for a family. As we arrived at the family’s house, we were welcomed by swarms of children at our feet frantically asking us questions in their native language. I turned to one of the people in my group and said, “Do you understand them at all?” She replied, “Nope.” “Okay then. This is going to be fun. Let’s get to work.”
…show more content…
The children excitedly tried to help, only able to carry one brick at a time. After that, we mixed sand, lye, and water into a thick concrete. Working together, we lifted the full, heavy bucket over to the stove. As the mason finished building the stove, I started to play with the children. We splashed each other with water, and they laughed, and laughed, and laughed. I invited them back to the convent where we were staying to play. After many hours of work under the hot sun, the brick stove was finally finished. The family graciously thanked us for all of our work, and we slowly walked back to the convent talking about the work we had