Returning…A short reflection from April
It has taken me a few days to realize that May has already started to pass me by. April was another month bursting with activity, travel, and thought. Once more, if I tried to tell all the stories from this last month I would lose half my readers after the first page so I will focus on one small influential event from April. This reflection is an invitation to come with me to a place where hope will never die, a place easy to romanticize but that also makes sure to “keep it real” and not forget the suffering of the past.
It has taken me a few days to realize that May has already started to pass me by. April was another month bursting with activity, travel, and thought. Once more, if I tried to tell all the stories from this last month I would lose half my readers after the first page so I will focus on one small influential event from April. This reflection is an invitation to come with me to a place where hope will never die, a place easy to romanticize but that also makes sure to “keep it real” and not forget the suffering of the past.
Jacinto’s forearms rested lightly on the wooden slat keys ofthe village marimba, somewhere around the tenor or alto section. During the meeting the marimba was no longer a musical instrument but more like a long skinny table with its pointy pipes like stalactites under the table hanging down to the ground at the bass section and travelling diagonally upwards to the soprano notes. If you have ever seen one of these traditional Guatemalan instruments then you can picture it. I stood, at first, with my back to Jacinto almost directly in front of him but when he began speaking I shifted to the side and turned my body slightly so that I could see his face. Jacinto’s fingers were interlaced together while his thumbs moved back and forth. At first, his gaze focused on his fingers but as he began to speak and his voice got louder, his eyes rose to survey the listening crowd, and they shined in the flickering light.
His words are like a heavy rain in the mountains. The rains bring with them, at times, a depressing dampness that chills the body through to the bone but in that same breath, they bring life as they fill the lands and the fields with nourishing waters. Jacinto speaks directly to the visitors, a group which has, over the last 8 years, made 7 visits up into this remote Guatemalan mountain community from the United States. His words grip each of us closely, take us into his world, and let us down with a swift rush of emotions like the air being let out of a balloon.
“During the war, during the armed conflict, we would wait and wait and wait for our missing family members, our parents, our loved ones to come home. We never let go of that hope,” he began before pausing so that I could translate. The power of his words slowly soaked in. The pain suffered by those waiting for the return of their vanished loved ones weighed heavy in the room.
“But they never returned, “ he continued. “We lost a piece of ourselves when, even with our strong hope, they did not come back,” he stopped to take a deep breath. “But you have replaced a piece of what was lost. Each year you come back. You don’t leave us just waiting and waiting. You come again, year after year, and share with us your friendship and your lives. You make the difficult journey, far from your homes, far from what you are used to and bring us all together.” and there, in an instant, the life-giving waters broke into our hearts.
No one wanted to follow this speech, the room stayed quiet for several minutes before anyone dared to speak again. Later, one of the visitors mentioned how potent it was to hear his words, how it brought us all togetherinto one family, Americans and Guatemalans, visitors and community members, those affected by the war and those who had only heard stories about it.
This is just one small picture, a few minutes in one group’s experience with a Guatemalan community. There are many of these individuals and groups that come back year after year to visit communities or organizations that work in Guatemala. I am not saying that each of these communities or organizations has this same perspective, that they don’t just look at foreigners as a source of money but it is refreshing to know that, at least in some cases, foreigners in the Guatemalan mountains are looked at as a source of hope and revitalization for the people.
Pablo
Paul Pitcher is a missionary with the Christian Action of Guatemala (ACG). He serves as a communication and youth worker with ACG.