Day 4: When It Rains It Pours

Amy: Today I am thinking of the single parents here in Sibinal. Having been raised by a single parent, their plight was relatable, yet vastly different from the life I experienced. It also makes me think of the children and families I have worked with in our child welfare system (DFS, CPS). Our system is mediocre at best, but it is, in fact, better than nothing.

Two of the single parenting households we visited have seven children each, one is a single mother and the other a single father. These two families have no extended family in the area, one has no extended family at all. The realization that the fourteen children from these two families would be left with no one and nothing is heartbreaking. There is no foster care system here; children left parentless are given to their closest family member. If there is no family they are left to be raised by their siblings - children as young as 8 can be the caretaker for their younger siblings - adolescent siblings are then the wage earners for their families.

Two other families we visited were single mother households where their husbands had left them and their children to start another family. Marriage in Sibinal is a religious practice honored by the church, but not a legal practice. The wives and children of the men who leave are not entitled to anything that belongs to the family or the husband. Since the women are homemakers and culturally not encouraged to be employed, they are left destitute without the ability to support themselves and their children when their husbands leave.

One of the husbands who left is having a home built for his wife and four children, and while this sounds magnanimous by US standards, the reality is he is leaving them four cement block walls covered by an aluminum roof. She will not have electricity or water. The single roomed home will be for the mother and her four children. They will have to build a fire outside to cook and will have no place to bath or wash their clothes.  They will have nothing to sleep on inside the home nor anywhere to sit or put their clothing and personal items. The father will no longer visit his children and will provide nothing further for their care.

This makes me think of our very broken family court system that often chooses a side rather than fully protecting the rights of the children. Our very broken system is still so much better than nothing. And yet, with little more than nothing, these parents are some of the most loving and nurturing when interacting with their children. They have been incredibly gracious and welcoming, offering us coffee and rice water when they have barely enough to feed themselves. They have openly and honestly told of their struggles, while always reminding us how thankful they are for what they have and how much they love their children.

Next time I feel like cussing our systems, the inconsistency and unfairness of it all, I will think of the families and the children here who truly have no voice and no one to fight in their best interest.

Michelle: On the sloped streets of Sibinal the fog sits deep while the rain cascades downhill, washing the streets clean from any dung and scraps left from the early morning. While some of the small shops embrace the weather and remain open to serve a small number of pedestrians, the majority of the town stays tucked away in their commonly referred to as "humble homes."

 After a comforting lunch consisting of rabbit, rice, and warm veggies at Doña Julia's and a quick rest at our home away from home,the team and I prepared for our next and last trek of the day; the house of Doña Fortunata Perez. We bundled up in our permanently damp rain gear, grabbed our umbrellas, and made our way to the single mother’s home.

During the five minute car ride, a GM member and I discussed his family. Although happy to be helping his Guatemalan people, he voiced his concerns about being out in the weather.  As a husband and a father of three young boys, a teacher at a local school, and a volunteer for Generación Magníficat, getting sick was not an option. For us, coming down with a cold means a day off of work, rolled up in blankets and tucked in bed in our heated homes, while taking prescribed medication that is covered by insurance. For him and like most people from Sibinal, taking a sick day would mean losing a full day pay...the pay that would determine what and how much the family eats that week. And for the families even worse off than him that can't afford medication from the local pharmacy, that sick day could turn into a sick week or even progress into a cause of death.

After the quick trip down the muddy roads, we arrived to Doña Fortunata Perez's house. As I walked up, ducking under the clothes line that was now soaked from the hours of pouring rain, I was impressed at the size and quality of her home. As custom, she greeted us; Buenas tardes and a warm hug for each of us as we entered her home. Although her floor was made of dirt and an open fire acted as her stove, she seemed to be doing quite well for herself.

As she offered us seats, her two young granddaughters that she is now raising alone here in Sibinal ran around us with pure joy, completely ecstatic to have gringos in their home. We settled in near the smoking fire as she told us her story. A year earlier, the church raised funds to build her and her family a new home, which sounds to be the first positive thing that happened to her in a long time. Before that, she had moved to the U.S with her husband and three children. While here, her husband hit the bars more and more regularly and eventually hit the road, leaving her alone to raise their three children in a foreign land.

In time she made it back to Guatemala where today she raises two of her own kids, ages 14 and 15, both attending school. She also raises her two granddaughters while her daughter works in the next city over, returning every six months to visit and pay a small amount of child support, which will stop all together when she gets married and starts a new family out there. Her milpa combined with the child support helps support her family for the time being but any small factor, like one of the children getting sick, could shift their life for the worst.

The children are happy and the house clean. When asked if the smoke from the open fire bothers their lungs, Doña Fortunata responded humbly; "it used to, but we have grown use to it now." When asked what she thinks she needs most, her immediate response is running water or a latrine. As of right now, the family travels to her mother’s house any time they need to use the bathroom. And as for getting fresh water, that's a challenge every day.

Our goal for this trip was to assess 15 of the neediest families in Sibinal to determine which families are in greatest need of our help and which of those will be able to use our help to help others. Shockingly because of the little support she gets from her daughter and income from the milpa and in comparison to the other "homes" (those made of tarps, sticks, and cinder blocks) we had seen earlier in the trip, she seemed to be doing moderately well. Because our funds are so limited our team will have to make the tough decisions of which families to help and since the level of need is so high and the standard of living is so low here, families like Doña Fortunata's tend to fall to the bottom of the list and may not receive any help from us this time around.

It's still undecided and many of the homes are yet to be assessed. However, hard decisions need to be made and the decisions get even harder when the poorest of the American families are still doing better than some of the families that don't make the cut for a cement floor or fresh water here in Sibinal.

Franco: Since our team has thankfully expanded in the last year, several of our team members, Olivia, Michelle and Jasen have incorporated a pilot program called PhotoVoice.

PhotoVoice is a process in which people – usually those with limited power due to poverty, language barriers, race, class, ethnicity, gender, culture, or other circumstances – use images to capture aspects of their environment and experiences and share them with others. The pictures can then be used, usually with captions composed by the photographers, to bring the realities of the photographers’ lives home to the public and hopefully spur change.

Below are pictures of Project HELLO volunteers and their PhotoVoice experience with one Guatemalan family.

Jasen: Today was the first day of Photovoice,  the pictures the family took are amazing and speak out in so many different ways.  The Mom and Dad did not want to participant at first, but... once their children were having fun they joined in. 

The family will receive a few of their favorite photos that they took themselves. We have 2 more family's to meet with, then Friday we will all meet and discus the picture and the reasons behind them. 

So... I would have to say the first PhotoVoice family meeting was a success. Its's true.... a photo can really speak a 1,000 words. 

Emily: Sustainability... prosperity. That is what Project HELLO strives for. We visited the new homes today that were picked out from our Guatemalan team (Generación Magnificat). As we were visiting them, I didn't think they qualified under our priority list and I began to question the team's decision. Later that day, our team discussed and brought our concern with Generacion Magnificat. This is where I am proud to be a part of Project HELLO and the people that are involved.

Amado reminded us that just because a family looks "stable" or "well-off", doesn't mean they are doing okay. Outside may look pretty, but once you step inside the home and hear their stories, everything changes. Yes, they have a clean home, they have a bed, they have fire wood--but in the long run, those are just materials.

 For example, we visited Doña Nohemi and her house was clean, big, and new (built by community and her father). She has a ten year old, who is a part of a non-profit organization and is in school (usually out of pocket after elementary). She washes clothes for a living... she has a job--compared to other homes, she is well off. However, her husband left her for another woman, so she is the sole provider. She has no wash station, no stove, no cement floor, and she has holes in her roof.

Her number one priority was not a new roof, not a stove, not a floor, but a wash station so she can use it for her business. Talk about sustainability. Talk about prosperity.

We, here at Project HELLO don't believe in handouts. We strive for communities to prosper and teach the future generation a sustainable way of living. Doña Nohemi is a perfect example of what we try to achieve. Once she receives the wash station, she will be able to expand her business. She wouldn't need to rely on her father, she wouldn't need to rely on her community. With that, the community can help another family in need. It's a ripple effect.

We had our debriefing and I am so glad to be working with a team that is not only fun but knowledgeable in different aspects when evaluating a family; from Project HELLO to Generación Magnificat. SOMOS UNA FAMILIA.

Nos vemos.