Delayed Cruise Diary, 11/14/13, Guatemala

We’re leaving Guatemala and its port of muddy water, and I’m watching the dock workers watching the cruise ship pull away and I can’t help but wonder what they’re thinking. These are men with above average jobs and income, but what do they think about those of us who can afford such luxury? Are they resentful? I don’t know how they could not be, at least a little. Are we any more deserving of our fate than they?

I don’t feel guilty; it’s not my fault that my life offers me the opportunity to travel. To a certain extent I earned this; I’ve always tried to be more of a giver than a taker, to leave the world a better place for my having lived. Carolyn and I worked hard at our (giving)/serving) professions, did the best we could for our patients/students and colleagues, took pride in our jobs.

But we, and especially me, certainly had more than a leg up on the people we saw today, due mostly to the accident of our birth. Unlike the children we saw working today, we had parents who made sure we were educated, had opportunities to learn and grow, to have careers. We had enough to eat, had shelter and security. I had even more than that, thanks to the sacrifices of my parents, to their desire to ensure we could have a better life than even they had. That’s not always the case even in the United States, but in underdeveloped countries, the odds are even greater.

According to our guide, the literacy rate in Guatemala has risen from 25% to 33% in the past 10 or so years. Certainly increased education means increased opportunity. One need only look at the average incomes of Americans based on education to see that. I’m sure that is true in countries like Guatemala, as well, but I have to wonder just how much opportunity there really is for an educated Guatemalan. More than an uneducated one, no doubt, but so much depends on patience.

In my almost four decades at Hancock, I taught one doctor and no lawyers (that I know of – and I think I’d likely know). I certainly taught plenty of kids who were smart enough to become doctors or lawyers, plenty who, as freshmen, said they wanted to be a doctor or lawyer. Why so few then? Because the jump was too big, needed too much commitment, too much focus, and too few obstacles. Instead my best kids settled for success on “lesser” levels (not that being a doctor or lawyer are the only hallmarks of success). However, I’m willing to bet that there will be a number of second-generation doctors, the children of the many teachers and social workers I was lucky to teach.

Imagine the challenges in a country like Guatemala, though. If it’s that hard for Americans, where, for the most part, it really isn’t a question of survival, of not going hungry, of the opportunity at least being there, what are odds for child of third-world poverty (and yes, I know Guatemala isn’t even close to the poorest in the third-world). How can there not be resentment as the people watch us in our big tour busses or big cruise ships (which probably throw away enough food to host a feast for a small town), knowing how badly the odds are stacked against them?

I wonder what these people dream for their children? Do they dare to hope? And, if so, for what do they hope? Becca has a couple classmates adopted from Guatemala. Carolyn spent most of this day thinking how lucky this brother and sister are to have been rescued from the lives we saw here.