Personal Narrative: My Life In Guatemala

Poverty has many faces in different regions of the world. Poverty is not just the lack of money to buy food or cloth but it is intervened to our life’s in different ways. The video “living on One Dollar” I watched recently has made me to think about different aspects of poverty among Guatemalan people. The video show us the experiences of four students who came to live in Pena Blanca as part of the research. This video clearly explains that poverty is such a complex social issue and it is multifaceted. Living in poverty in Pena Blanca is totally different from poverty in our societies. In today’s

Families who reside in small agricultural villages in Jinotega, Nicaragua face an abundance of issues and struggles. Many families experience losses of loved ones from lack of clean and fresh resources and face many hardships throughout their everyday life. Nicaraguans experience a lack of fresh water, technology, and are forced to rely on the land, creating a difficult life filled with an abundance of hard work. The lack of freshwater, technology, and need to rely on the land contributes greatly to the country’s poverty. The signs of poverty are everywhere, especially in small farming communities such as Puertas Azules. Poverty, in Nicaragua, manifests itself through the poor living conditions and the shortage of everyday necessities. At first, by looking at the beautiful scenery of Nicaragua, it seems like a tropical paradise, but in reality living here creates a difficult lifestyle filled with many hardships.

My parents have always raised me to be grateful for what I have. I live in a safe and wealthy town with a superior education system, I have amazing friends and family, a roof over my head, and proper food and clothing.

Have you ever thought to yourself “today could be the day I lose everything and everyone I care about?” As a military child I was use to moving but never did I think I would move to a whole new country. Moving to Japan was exciting, yet scary at the same time. I was excited to learn a new culture and language, but scared I wouldn’t fit in. Living on a military base I was surrounded by other military children and of course many Americans. I had an amazing first 2 years in Japan but all of that suddenly changed.

Moving to a different city or state can be a very big change. Moving to a whole other country? It changes you in ways you would have never thought possible. I remember being very vulnerable and rather powerless when I first moved to the United States. I was barely of age back then, only thirteen and I had already gone from a country with a total population of 1.2 million people stretched over only 2040 km2 of land to this new country with 318.9 million people and an area of 9.8 million km2. It felt like a whole other world, as if I were an alien who had just begun to discover the alternate universes co-existing in the mystical galaxy we all live in. At first it had felt magical and exhilarating but it wasn’t long before the realization that my whole life had changed in a split second dawned upon me. It was no longer a spectacular wonderland with seemingly endless fascinating possibilities as much as it was an intimidating maze of gloomy jungles which became more and more chaotic, suffocating me, the alien, as if to remind me that I did not belong there.

The documentary, “Living on $1”, is a must see for every ungrateful American. It has greatly affected my thinking and has changed my perception of my life and what true poverty is. This film is about four college students, Chris, Zach, Sean, and Ryan, who decide to spend eight weeks in Pena Blanca, Guatemala to understand what it is like to live on less than $1 a day. During their stay, they meet many people. They learn how to work in a field, experience being deprived of basic medicine in desperate times, and live like the citizens of Pena Blanca, in order to understand the hardships the Guatemalans face. Throughout the documentary I felt, shocked and surprised, sorry and cognizant of their abhorrent situation. It also makes me appreciative for all the opportunities I can achieve just for being born in America.

Imagine a time where you were at your lowest, a time in your life that nothing seemed to make

It was a Monday in the summer of 2015. I was riding in an old 11 passenger van with 30 other people, on our way back from playing soccer. Most of the people were Guatemalan children screaming at the top of their lungs as the van rocked side to side as we drove up a narrow, winding, mountain road without guide rails. In the summer of 2015, I went to Guatemala for ten days, on a mission trip. My team (18 youth and pastors of East Side Church of God) and I visited four different Indian vilages: Chupol, Paquisis, Sacbichol, and Agua Escondita. We spent two days in each village and slept in each village’s church.

The question of why here and not there, was something that I answered 6 years ago. In order to answer that question a series of childhood memories have to start fade in my mind. My life is separated into two geographic locations. The first 16 years of my life traced back to a small town located on the outside mountains of Guatemala City. I grew up in a third world country and throughout my life saw the struggles of my family and community members. Guatemala is a country of many contrasts,is located in the heart of America, is not in either on the North or the South, is the navel of the continent. The country is culturally rich and full of wildlife. Although Guatemala is a green paradise, that possesses a great architectural heritage of the

Guatemala is located in Central America bordered by Mexico, El Salvador, Honduras and Belize. In Guatemala there are about 15 million people. It is broke into 22 departments, instead of states or counties. The majority of the people living in Guatemala live below the national poverty level, making about two dollars a day.

The day has finally come to go on vacation and my family, and I departed promptly from our house at 4:30 in the morning. Our flight was scheduled for 7 in the morning at Pittsburgh International Airport. We had to arrive there early because all people flying international had to be there two hours before the flight. All of us boarded the flight out to Punta Cana, which is located in the Dominican Republic. I can remember that I was so excited to go, and I was the first on the flight. I am almost positive that it took over three hours to get to the Dominican Republic from Pittsburgh. It was a really long flight to me because I could not wait to get there, and I just wanted to land. Finally, the moment has come, and we landed. When we departed from the plane, they had hula dancers dancing around us, and it was the coolest thing I have ever seen. They had people that would take pictures of you when you got off the plane. My family and I obliged and got our pictures taken. After all our pictures were taken, we went inside the airport and

In the summer of 2011 when I was the age of thirteen, I reached the biggest milestone in my life; which was going to Nicaragua all by myself. I could remember the day when my dad booked the flight and thinking how my siblings and I would experience where my parents grew up and how things worked in their hometown. It was not until a few days later when my dad walked into my room; seriously but not furiously and said, “Son at your age, you should feel so lucky that you guys have a better life than your mother and I had. The ticket I bought, was for you and only for you; you are the only one going on this trip so, then you know what your mother and I went through to be here to give you guys the life we wanted as a kid.” I did not understand what

The person I interview was a female from el Salvador. She was born here but she was raised by her immigrant mom and aunts. Her guardian never spoke English and she has always been the translator for her mother and her aunts. She grew up speaking two language and basically lived two lives one with her family which was more tradition and cultural to her heritage and one outside her household where she lived like a regular American citizen.

It is the balmy months of summer in Pennsylvania as I return home from a long day as a lifeguard at the local YMCA. I feel tired, and somewhat uncomfortable as my stomach protests with a series of groans. I am hungry having not eaten since lunchtime, just a few hours earlier. My phone abruptly rings and my mother is on the line."I am going to be home from work late tonight, so I ordered a pizza it should be at the door any minute now." Five minutes later, a feel a sense of anticipation as the doorbell rings. The pizza had finally arrived. My two siblings and I immediately swarm towards the pizza box gorging ourselves until only two slices remain. No one could eat any more, our stomachs filled to the brink with stringy cheese and warm zesty tomato sauce. My brother picks up the last few slices and throws them into the trashcan nonchalantly . No one stopped him, my sister and I went on with our evening routines, ignoring the fact that considerable quantities of food had just been unceremoniously disposed of.

Is it possible for someone to impact your life if you don’t even speak the same language? This was a major question I had to answer this summer. I found myself on a mission trip in Nicaragua with around thirty people I had met less than a month earlier. We were doing a vacation bible school at an after school/feeding program for kids from preschool age through high school. Of course I loved all of the children at Los Brasiles but I naturally picked favorites and those favorites taught me more than I could have ever imagined possible.