Something illegal...

So, it’s been just a little over a month since I’ve returned from my extended hiatus in the States, spending time with the fam, friends, a funeral, work, and physical therapy.  Since I’ve been back I’ve been even busier, picking up our eco-ladrillos project with antsy, but motivated counterparts, planning environmental and English programs for the elementary school and middle school, and doing both my own research on the hot springs as well as getting contacts to conduct a study on the physical and chemical properties, all which come with a price.  PC/Guat has been going through a lot of changes too due to the security situation in Guatemala.  More than half of the volunteers here have been sent home, either via early “Close of Service” or because they were given the choice to leave early, with the benefits of being a PCV.  Some left because they wanted to or had other things lined up for them, and others left because they didn’t want to change sites (some departments were closed down such as Huehue, San Marcos, el oriente, Baja Verapaz in an attempt to concentrate the volunteers in specific areas).  In addition, PC/Guat started a shuttle system to prevent travel along the interamerican highway, where there have been armed robberies on public buses.

In the midst of arriving into all this craziness I’ve thought of what it is to be an illegal immigrant. When I first got here people would ask me if I had a visa – of course I do.  But then I realized that it is not so obvious to Guatemalans who make a long trip via car, bus, truck, and foot to “el norte” to get a job and make money to send back to their family… illegally.  Although I knew a few illegal immigrants while volunteering in Philadelphia during college, I now KNOW people who have been in the states or who have loved ones there.  Yesterday, I watched a few videos that their family had sent them from the US.  One was of a trip to a fruit-picking farm, and another of a Christmas Eve celebration.   Their family spoke in Spanish and listened to the same music we listen to here… marimba, cumbia.  I wondered about my own family, speaking in Korean at home.  And I wondered about all the different cultures and languages that encompass the United States.  How many different tongues are being spoken in homes right now? How many different types of music are being listened and danced to?

Just last month, a group of a few dozen people from my aldea and adjacent aldeas set off for the states.  One was someone I had worked with.  Being oblivious to his progression in the dangerous journey, which includes a 3 day hike through the desert in Mexico – yes, hike, on foot, police on the borders, and coyotes who want more money than was settled, I learned from his two daughters, my students, that he got caught and is in jail.  Apparently, people move in small groups; for example, in groups of 5.  While another person from my aldea made it to NY with his group, this man’s group wasn’t so lucky.  So, right now, he’s in an Arizona jail with the rest of his group, which includes a young pregnant girl, and another group.  His brother, who is in NY, is working on getting a lawyer to help them.  Curious, I asked my friend what being in jail was like when he had gotten caught after living and working in the states for a while.  He said it was nice, a lot nicer than the jails here.  He got food, water, a toothbrush, towel… and a free plane ride back home.  While there are people who immigrate with intentions of staying in the US, from my own conversations with people, many go with the intentions of returning to Guatemala.  They want to work for a few years, build a house back in their hometown, and then drive a Ford pick-up down.

I definitely don’t encourage people to go.  But I don’t discourage it either. What position do we have, as volunteers, to the people who we work with and build friendships with, who then want to go to the states to work?  I certainly don’t tell them, “yes, yes, go!”  But how can I tell them that they cannot go, when they can’t get a visa, and when “everyone” – or almost everyone – does it. Peer pressure?  No, it’s much more than that.  It’s a means of living that comes with a lot of risk.  The USA isn’t the only country with illegal immigrants.  Hey, they exist in South Korea too – something I hadn’t thought about until recently as well!  I should really do some reading on illegal immigrants.  It'd be interesting to see what the law says about it, especially because there are lawyers who defend them as well.  But, first, I have to figure out where I can get literature on hot springs in Guat and my aldea!

Weather report: 80⁰F, slightly breezy, blue skies and fluffy, white clouds

Reading: The Zookeeper’s Wife by Diane Ackerman
(Finally) feeling: like writing a blog

Prayer Requests:

1.       Health and safety of the remaining volunteers.  Our cohort just did our mid-service meds!  A few volunteers have TB, and some others are sick with the usual… digestive problems, flu, cold, etc.

2.       Success of the community projects.  Here, “success” does not just entail the physical completion of a project. I really hope that people learn about the environment, volunteerism, and the process of carrying out a project, from the planning, soliciting money, implementation and management, to “after-service.”

3.       My faith and God’s love will come into play, somehow.  I’ve been in site for a year now and I’m not sure what impact I’m having among the members of the community. While there are people I’ve come to know very well there are still new faces that I encounter and are surprised to learn that they are from the aldea.  Whether it’s from our conversations or my actions I hope to be a window through which God’s light could shine into the people here.