Good morning. This morning I decided to take my morning walk and dedicate it too all the puppies I see on the road. I walked around taking pictures of all the street dogs. Its so sad to watch them cower and quickly move away from every time I pulled out my camera because they are so used to having rocks, etc thrown at them. This morning I even saw two children throw rocks at two dogs minding there own business soaking up some of the sunshine. Just another day in a Guatemalan street dogs life. The locals look at me so funny when I take pictures of the dogs. They just don't get it. lol
It is also Sunday which means market day! I wanted to go get some pictures of the market. The Guatemalan people are all very short so I get laughed at regularly as I walk through getting close-lined by ropes, bags, belts, you name it. Everyone walks under with no problem, but every so often I'll hit my head pretty good and I hear a couple chuckles out of the near by locals. They all like to tell me "muy alto" which means very tall. I get such a kick out of how often I get told that down here. I'm 5'8!!! I don't consider myself tall at all but I feel like a giant walking through the market, with most tarps strung up at height of about 5'5.
As I walked to the market I had the usual passer by's wish me good days. but one gentleman stuck out. He had a bit of a limp and I couldn't tell if he was drunk or not. As I got closer, I could see he looked as if he was in his late fifties, early sixties. Dirty some what disheveled clothes. His face hardened with a life of hard work and sun. In Canada, this guy would have made me nervous and I probably would have crossed the street. I watched him with caution and kept an eye on him. As we got near each other, I finally decided to smile. When he looked up and caught the warm look on my face, his hardened features instantly warmed up and his tired eyes became filled with an almost youthful exuberance. "Buenos Diaz" he said with such an enthusiastic tone of voice. I was instantly reminded how hardened North America has made me. Here I was, ready to just walk right by, and possibly even cross the street, when all I needed to do was smile. It was this moment that it really hit me how isolated we make ourselves in North America. I frequently catch myself walking down the street here, head down or unconsciously avoiding eye contact, focused on getting to my destination but missing everything in between! We have built habits that create a bubble for our own individual lives and as a result, we miss so much around us.
I spent two hours sitting on a step in the square of Tecpan, just watching the daily lives take place in front of me. Children and their mothers, 3 generations of cowboys, the smallest maybe 6 years old, all dressed in jeans and identical white cowboy hats. Small boys working shining shoes, their clothes beaten but their eyes still innocent. One young boy, clearly tired from working in the sun all day sat down beside me. He had a shoe that had completely split open, his toes exposed, dirty from head to toe, but when he smiled at me, it was as if none of that mattered. Was he aware of my predetermined North American notions? Did he see himself the same way your average person back home would see him? Full of pity and an idea that he is not of the class North Americans are. Does he feel less of a child because he works all day and after schools, to help his family put food on the table? We come down here with these ideas, many of us full of compassionate, yet so ingrained with our stereotypes. Why can we not look at poor children back home through the same pair of eyes?
As I continued to watch the world go on around me, another young boy sat down beside me. He had his shoe shining kit and it looked as if he wanted to convince me to let him "shine" my white running shoes. He would look at his kit, then at my shoes, then back at his kit just to look at my shoes again. He noticed the camera in my hand and he so wanted to have a look. He gave himself an opportunity to take a break and talk to the "gringa". He eventually got bored and continued on his way. Motorcycles passed with small children riding between their dads arms, some times 3 or 4 people piled on weaving in and out of traffic. I even saw a police motorcycle pass with two officers on it. Women in traditional clothes carrying heavy loads on their heads. Their children in training following close behind. Children playing in the street with whatever they could find. One child played for over an hour with a green plastic milk crate, pulling it behind him with nothing but a rope. Heaven forbid he ever discovers "game station" (the guatemalan equivalent to playstation). You couples walking hand in hand, enamored with their new found feelings. Horses, old style buggies being pulled my hand, collectivo trucks packed with at least 30 people. Local cell phone company trucks with music blaring from their speakers attached to the roofs. Tuk-tuks (local taxi's that are essentially identical to a golf cart but smaller) whipping in and out of people and other vehicles. I watched this very young, (no more than 2 years old) girl playing with her older sister as mom manned the kiosk she was running. She was so adorable dressed in traditional clothes and a toque on her head. I think her feet were still learning how to keep her body upright, because she kept wobbling as she ran after her sister. Chicken buses, men carrying large bags on their backs and the ice cream man's obnoxious bell 3 feet from where I sat. It was one of the best afternoons I've had yet!
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