A trip to Disneyland…

A trip to Disneyland…

Paul Pitcher – Guatemala

Overall the trip was a positive experience; we spoke with hundreds of people in 4 states about the reality in Guatemala and the work of ACG with the indigenous communities; we shared together experiences and cultures. With each presentation it seemed as if our words got clearer, the message louder.

Paul Pitcher – Guatemala

Overall the trip was a positive experience; we spoke with hundreds of people in 4 states about the reality in Guatemala and the work of ACG with the indigenous communities; we shared together experiences and cultures. With each presentation it seemed as if our words got clearer, the message louder.

Interviewer: “Juan Carlos de León Ventura, you have just received a VISA to the United States of America, what are you going to do next?”

Juan Carlos: “I’m going to Disneyland.”

This wasn’t the exchange that took place in July when ACG Vice-President and Youth Coordinator Juan Carlos and I walked out of the U.S. embassy in Guatemala City. In fact, not only was there no one around with a microphone, most of the attention was on the 50 police who had been dispatched to protect the embassy as a protest of 5,000 people regarding the free trade agreement made its way through the capital city. We had waited in line for 4 hours to obtain the coveted United States VISA so that Juan could travel with me to give presentations about our work to supporters and interested parties in the United States. To be truthful the above exchange didn’t even cross my mind until a week or so into our trip, our adventure out from the crowded streets and rolling hills of Guatemala. But it sure hit me hard as I watched Juan soak in the landscape and culture of the country to the north.

A few days ago I was reading back over some of my previous writings. I found one entitled “Run for the Border” about my experience in the border town of Gracias a Dios. In that piece I used the description, “the Disneyland that is the United States” as only a reference to the magic paradisiacal atmosphere portrayed by the theme park. I used this suggestion only as a metaphor in that writing but I never expected to see it come to life. What am I talking about here? Again, in many third world countries, especially those in Latin America, the United States is seen as this paradise, this dream world, the land of opportunity, etc. People watch on television, read in the newspapers, and hear rumors about the luxury, easy living, and abundance of food and wealth that infuses the America world. Are all these images and rumors true? Of course not but when you are living in a 5-foot by 5-foot hut made of branches and scavenged metal scraps with 12 family members then any dream world sounds pretty good. Ok, I exaggerate this point a little bit. Is the United States a Disneyland? Not too many Americans. There are tons of problems that were put in the spotlight by the response and affect of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita on the south. But, then again, some Americans might not realize the paradise they are living in and make no effort to step out of their comfort zone, to see the world as someone living in a third world country sees it. And they don’t realize that years of invasion, occupation, and influence by meddling larger countries has turned parts of the world into lands where the escape to the United States, through all the struggles, dangers, and difficulties is worth the risk.

Juan Carlos and I stepped off the plane in Dallas. He put his feet for the first time on American soil and right as that contact began, his eyes turned into saucers. From the first few minutes when I had to coax him through the door and onto the sleekly designed automatic mono-rail to get to the terminal for our next flight; from the way his eyes were glued to the foreign landscape as it flew by the windows so that I had to poke him when we arrived at our destination to break the spell; and from when Juan turned to me asked “Pablo, where is the driver?”. From these beginning moments and all the way through the 17 days he was lost in the grandeur of it all. I wrestled with watching someone, a good friend of mine, a family member, a stranger look at my world with his eyes, eyes brought from a country that, for many people, only know the United States through fairy tales and TV screens. But as I watched him take in that part of my world, that world of friends and family, it was wonderful at one moment and almost unbearable at another.

It was great to show Juan that world, to watch his eyes bulge as we stared down from the 96th floor of the John Hancock building, to follow behind him as a guide while he ran through the Shedd Aquarium, to witness his world change as he got to lay eyes upon and touch the Popol Vuh, the sacred Mayan spiritual book that for some reason is housed in Chicago, to move with him from state to state watching the countryside fly by, to sit with him surrounded by friends, family, and food in their homes, to have to shield him from bumping into pedestrians since his eyes are attached to the skyscrapers that rise above the city. But I realized at one point that I was showing him Disneyland. That because of our schedule and presence, every day was like a fiesta. We ate somewhere different everyday, with different people, all who went out of their way to make sure that we had a plentiful smorgasbord of foods to choose from, more food than Juan has ever seen for just the two of us. That no matter where we were, the buildings rose higher and looked fancier than the usual Guatemalan skyline. And that it was so different that not matter what we did, where we were, what we ate, it was going to be like something from an amusement park. As Juan said day after day, “Pablo, each step, each second is a new experience for me; something I never thought would occur; like a dream.” This dream contrasted sharply with the reality of the purpose behind our visit, to talk about the realities of life in Guatemala. It was almost as if the air around us would shimmer and move us from one world to another as Juan told stories of his hiding in the cornfields with his family while the armed stormed his village; as he laid out his perspective of the current political and social challenges in Guatemala; and as he explained the projects with youth, women, communications, education, and development at Acción Cultural Guatemalteca ACG.

Overall the trip was a positive experience; we spoke with hundreds of people in 4 states about the reality in Guatemala and the work of ACG with the indigenous communities; we shared together experiences and cultures. With each presentation it seemed as if our words got clearer, the message louder. And it wasn’t a message asking for money, asking for more relations with just Guatemala, it was a message talking about solidarity with all peoples around the world who are in need. But, like I said, it was also an eye opener for me as I saw the country where I was born and grew up dissected and laid out upon the table with a different knife, a machete.

Pablo
Paul Pitcher is a missionary with the Christian Action of Guatemala (ACG).  He serves as a communication and youth worker with ACG.