Returning to the cold, dark north is particularly painful, leaving the warmth of my friends, family and gardens in Guatemala, where going out is as easy as slipping on sandals an
d skipping down the stairs. I return to my family and friends here and this home is lovely, showing all the love and hard work that went into creating it and in June with the sun shining in it IS the best place in the world. This morning brings the second N'or easter to the coast, and the first I've seen this year. Yes it is lovely, snow falling to almost white out, the bees are huddled in their protective ball protecting the Queen. I am huddled in my home praying the electricity stays on for the greenhouse! Yes, the generators are at the ready.Life in Guatemala is an amazing blend of contrasts, running the gamut of delicious
ness to horrific. I live an insulated life thanks to all the protections and services here. A particular incident comes to mind, taking a good friend to a clinic for an ultrasound revealed the daily frustration of the third world indigenous person. First, there are no appointments, you show up when the place opens and hope to get your name on the list early. Second, if there is an emergency, every one gets bumped forward for however long it takes. Third, you are told it is alright to leave and come back in 1 or 2 hours but then when you come back mysteriously your name is now farther down the list. Fourth, you may wait all day and then be told it is closing time and you still haven't been seen and please to come back tomorrow and start the whole process over again. Did I also mention, if you happen to be an indigenous person, you will be treated like you are not human and have no mental capacity?
Walking out on the street I see carefully laid stone paving, palm trees, Justicia, banana trees, trumpet vines, bouganvillea, but !watch out!, while you were looking up you almost stepped in excrement. The powerful volcanoes loom over the lake of indescribable beauty, but that lake is being polluted 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Why? Because some town official and all of his lackeys feel it is more important to pad their pockets than to take the designated money to build the sewage treatment plant to protect this environmental wonder. Sigh.
My friend Murray likes to say that his home is in the first world and when we go out on the street it is back to the third world. A simple trip to get food can be a mind bending flashback if you go to the open air market, or you can go to the local "dispensa" a mini version of an american super market. It is true, returning exhausted from the 2 hour event that is sunday shopping, the relief of turning down our little street and seeing and smelling the fresh plants and blooming flowers soothes the soul.
