A Letter to Guatemala


A Letter to Guatemala

Sunset 2.jpg


You are, in few words, still a mystery to me.  Your depths still unknowable. I find myself at a loss sometimes, adrift in a cultural ocean that seems ready to drown me and only too willing to let me sink.

The horn blasts of buses juxtaposed against the wind through the pines.  Beautiful mountains the backdrop to streets littered with trash. And why are children living in trash dumps half a mile away from gleaming glass and modernity?  Has the political cancer eaten the very people you care for? Again there is no answer, but your soul is not wrapped up in these things.


Instead you are instantiated in the individuals which call you home.  In their culture and traditions. Beautifully designed clothes that, if one knows what to look for, can tell you the history and village of it's wearer.  So many colors that it can be overwhelming; a reflection for the undying enthusiasm your people have for life.

Yet, you would have me believe that violence and death is nascent in your cities and towns, amongst the very streets I walk.  The news incessantly displaying the latest tragedy to the young and old alike. Why do you insist on showing them this side? There is already suffering enough to go around...

I hope that in time you are able to stand against the tide of misgivings.  Instead to shine in the beauty I see revealed from when the sun rises to when it sets.

We know your soul Guatemala and it is good.