Guatemala, Part I

I leave for Guatemala on Tuesday. I love to say that. I have learned that the best part of an exotic trip is rarely the trip itself. Some people are the adventurous type. I am a homebody who still manages to travel regularly. So each trip is a challenge, pushing me beyond my comfort zone, demanding that I release control of my life, forcing me into contact with those I don’t know, reshaping my understanding of myself and the world. I get stressed choosing places to eat or what to eat. I get tired and crabby after a day of endless decisions. I worry that I am in the wrong place or doing the wrong thing all the time. So why do I keep traveling? Why do I keep putting myself through all of this?

The most noble reason is to learn more of the world… and that is certainly a piece of this trip to Guatemala. I have never been to Central America. I have been to Asia, Europe, and the Middle East, but this will be something different. I have been watching some videos and doing a little reading on the history of the country. I am not sure what it means to be a tourist in a country so recently ravaged by civil war. It has only been 10 years since the peace accords were signed between the government and the guerillas. The village we will be visiting will not be telling us history. They will be telling us the stories of their lives. I am grateful for the chance to grasp even a little more fully the reality of this world and so to better understand who I am and who God is.

I must admit, though, that there are also less noble reasons for going. It has been so much fun telling people where I am going on vacation. Are you doing anything this summer? I am. I’m actually going on vacation with a few friends next week. Where are you going? Guatemala. I say it casually. As if it is no big deal. And wait for the reactions. I must admit, I love the surprise in people’s faces. I love that it changes their perception of me a little.

And I love having the stories to tell, the pictures to show, the odd souvenirs around my home. I love being considered a world traveler. If I am going to be a single, 39 year old, professional woman, I might as well enjoy it. I might as well be the exotic aunt who travels around the world bringing back strange gifts and has an aura of mystery and wanderlust around her. I might as well make the most of my freedom and financial independence.

I realize that my travels are a privilege. I don’t take them entirely for granted. I would trade them in a second for a family and all the accompanying financial responsibilities. But I also realize that many people, single or married, will never have the opportunities I have to travel. Or they will travel for necessity rather than pleasure. I was watching The Motorcycle Diaries this weekend, the story of the young Ernesto “Che” Guevara’s journey across South America. In one scene he and his friend are sitting around a campfire with a couple they met hiking along the road. This couple begins telling them of how their land was taken and their need to travel in order to find work to support their family. They then turn to Che and ask if he is also looking for work. When he answers no, they inquire why he is traveling. Che gets a sheepish look on his face and answers that he is simply traveling for pleasure. It is the beginning of his awakening to the needs of the people, an awakening that would eventually lead him to champion the cause of migrant workers throughout the world.

I don’t foresee such a revolutionary awakening in my own life, but I hope that I allow for the possibility. I hope that in encountering others, if I allow myself to truly see them, in some small way I might be changed.