September 24, 2008

Friends,

We enjoy our lives here and have found the cultural differences we’ve encountered have been minimal at times but surprising at others. For instance, we’ve learned that some consider the common handshake that is automatic in the United States as one of the most unsanitary but frequent practices employed in daily discourse. It’s no doubt unsanitary no matter where it’s practiced but we seldom reflect on it. Here it is common practice to grasp the forearm instead of the hand, especially when a person comes from outside and particularly if one is greeting the opposite sex. That is usually the practice when we attend church or conduct one of our classes. No one knows where that person, or his hands, have been. Sometimes people merely touch one another or softly graze one cheek with another as a form of greeting or acknowledgment. Ladina women (those of European ancestry) commonly do that, but indigenous women hardly ever. With indigenous women, just recognizing their presence is often the better option. At times it is awkward to know what to do, so we try to do what we believe is the least offensive. We try to honor and respect the practices of those with whom we work, recognizing that all of these practices are seldom critically examined and simply exist—much like the common handshake. What’s generally valued in the United States may not have much significance here, and the obverse is also true. Substituting our cultural values and practices for those here can lead us to conclusions about people that may be completely incorrect. Why do we always do what we do and why is it important to us? Why is our accepted way the right way? We don’t spend a lot of time pondering these things, but sometimes they’re more apparent than at others. That must have been the case a few days ago when I wrote this.

Having to change plans is very inconvenient at times, but Gloria and I have learned to be flexible. Plan changes are not an uncommon occurrence in Guatemala (which is why I’m writing this item—we were to be in Guatemala City, but we were called to be advised of a change in plans). We have learned that people are more important than appointments, especially when working with subsistence farmers. We once traveled for seven hours across a winding, mountain road, in local transportation, (the legendary “chicken bus”) where the volume on the radio was so loud it was difficult to speak to one another (which was just as well since it encouraged us to close our eyes and do some earnest praying). Anxiety about the road vanished only when we arrived in that mountain hamlet and checked into a hotel where the communal showers with plastic curtains, next to the communal bathroom stalls with plastic curtains, almost made us as anxious as did the winding road—almost.

We had prepared a class for 20 participants and found our way to the church where the classes were to be held. We waited. We waited some more. We called but found our cell phone technology did not work in that part of Guatemala. After two hours a couple of young men arrived and bowed deeply with a flourish resembling something from The Three Musketeers. They were soon followed by the church treasurer who told us no one else was coming. Not coming! Why? Well, it’s planting season and they’re all working on their land. Why didn’t you tell us long ago and we could have changed it? You didn’t ask. That explanation was raw and jangled in my head as I recalled the seven-hour bus ride and the hotel accommodations, but I could not argue with its simplicity and accuracy. We learned to always ask if there would be any kind of issue that would pose a hardship on those who wanted to attend one of our classes. But we also learned that questions have to be crafted carefully, since later I once found myself beside a rural road during Holy Week trying to flag down a bus because the questions I had asked made no reference to Holy Week. There is an old Guatemalan gag that goes, “How many people can fit in a bus?” “One more” is the answer, but I found that during Holy Week that does not hold true.

Not getting the information one expects has something to do with cultural differences. The folks with whom we work do not want to be rude, and telling a person “no” or not giving him the information he seeks could be considered offensive. Once, in Zone 1 in Guatemala City, I was looking for a store that sells colorful shirts made of indigenous fabric. I asked five different people where the store was located and received five different answers.

We have found our friends here will usually agree with us if we make a statement that sounds like we want a particular answer. This makes it a little risky for us on occasion but especially so for short-term missioners, who leave convinced they were told exactly what was wanted and needed when it usually means they were told exactly what our friends here felt the short-termers wanted to hear. But we learn, all of us, to work with one another with the object being that God is honored and glorified in the process, while we make efforts at what we hope is being faithful.

Most Guatemalans are used to standing in lines. We see it especially at the end of the month when old folks receive their pensions—a meager Q300-Q400—and other folks receive the money their countrymen have sent usually from the United States. But waiting in line can take much longer than expected at times since, for some reason not considered impolite, many people in my part of Guatemala will walk immediately in front of the next person or crowd into very small spaces to be the next person. Guards in banks often control the lines to keep things in order.

Recently, while standing in line at the little local grocery store, an old, very short, mostly toothless, frail lady, with a 25-pound bag of sugar on her head wormed her way in front nearly knocking over the people who had been immediately in front of me. She smiled at me with her head bobbing precariously due to the weight on her neck. I was concerned her neck might snap and I’d be responsible so I told her, by all means, to go ahead of me.

Like most North Americans, Guatemalans are generally in no hurry, but that does not appear to be the case at bus stops (and too frequently on the roads where excessive speed is a common problem). We use public transportation even in Guatemala City and getting off and getting on buses is a real chore, particularly during rush hours (although I can’t seem to tell much difference no matter the time of day—even when I pick up a van or bus in the provinces.) There have been many times when I have missed my stop because folks getting on overpowered those getting off with the result being the driver sped off to his next stop with this North American hollering “Baja! Baja”! Which means, I hope, “I want off.” Indecision can cost a person a lot of time. This behavior is learned and is neither bad nor good, and until something clearly understood as superior comes by, this will continue.

There are certain activities that have neither negative nor positive connotations in Guatemala but do in the United States. Applying U.S. cultural norms to those in indigenous Guatemala, or anywhere else for that matter, is inappropriate—but folks do it anyway and can draw wrong conclusions. My guess is that many of you have friends who have habits or actions you consider atrocious but you never mention it to them. The same is true here. For instance, some of my indigenous friends evidence a particular digital skill employed to extract offending items from their proboscises while we are speaking. “Don’t do that”! I want to say, but don’t. I just look at the floor, the sky, anywhere but the person’s face. Expectorating is a habit some have in the United States. “Don’t do that” I want to say but don’t. I don’t say it in Guatemala either. Here, both men and women do it, and a lot of kids, and there doesn’t appear to be a reason other than habit. One has to be careful when passing someone walking down the street lest one get sprayed.

One area where I have yet to grasp an understanding is in regard to travel on the “chicken buses.” Overloading is a serious problem and adds to the potential for disaster on local roads. (Still, I was pleased when that van finally stopped during Holy Week no matter how many people were on it.)  The newspapers have stories of wrecks involving buses and vans. Many of them have to do with unauthorized, un-inspected vehicles, that do not meet maintenance standards. Failing breaks, blowouts, and other mechanical problems are often the cause of accidents. Too many drivers without sufficient training and bad equipment populate the transportation system that serves the indigenous. Gloria used to examine the tires of every vehicle prior to boarding but she stopped that after a while. It became apparent we’d have to change nearly every plan we had—we’re not that flexible.

Those of low estate are but a breath, those of high estate are a delusion. In the balances they go up; they are together lighter than a breath.
Ps. 62:9-10. 

The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 258