The Worth of a Mango

Today I awoke at 5am to the sound of a peacock. (If you don’t know what sound a peacock makes it sounds something like a child screaming). After we realized the sound was only Kevin (the peacock), I was ready to take on the rest of the days surprises. At breakfast, I noticed mango’s hanging from the trees outside. I figured I’d never get the chance to pick a mango and eat it so I did... and it was awesome. Later, Bart (our Heart in Motion leader) took us for a tour around the town of Zacapa. First, we visited their day care and played with the kids there. Although they didn’t speak much English, we enjoyed all their Spanish songs and smiles. Then we headed to the dump. We had packed sandwiches and rice-milk to distribute throughout the day which I realized was about to come in handy. At the dump, Bart told us about the corruption in Guatemala. Funding for the communities was being stripped away by the government without any explanation or assistance. Water has become sparse with prices for bottles rising dramatically. These people could buy a gallon of water for $7 a day... but they needed much more than that and the government knew it. The people at the dump came there every day to sort through the trash and try to collect enough things to sell or recycle to make ends meet. Bart showed us a gigantic pile of plastic, (approximately 8 ft tall by 5 ft wide) and said it would probably only go for $5. As soon as we pulled up, the kids and their parents came running towards the bus knowing they were going to get food that day. We handed out all the sandwiches and milk we could (and maybe I slipped a few extra to some of the kids). As we walked around the dump we saw all the people working diligently sorting through the trash. All I could think about was how this was their life... every day. The children helped too as they inhaled the burning fumes of the trash they didn’t need. A truck pulled up to unload trash and I noticed mangos falling out of the back. “There’s your precious mangos.” Bart said to me meaning they were of no worth to this group of people. Again, world’s collided as I realized this simple delicacy that made my day was not even a bother to a family trying to survive. They pushed past the rotten mangos and searched for goods knowing it was what would save them. We continued on our way and walked through many more impoverished villages. Everywhere we went, we had children run up to us and grab our hands or climb on our backs. Many of the schools had been shut down for 2-3 weeks by the government. They simply stopped giving any money. We laughed and smiled with the children as we walked the villages but my heart sank wishing I could do more than hold their hand in this life. After distributing food to our final village we said goodbye and headed home to prepare for the clinic tomorrow. Still, I thought about the mangos and the two completely different lives me and the Guatemalans lived. I feel overwhelmingly blessed and humbled to have been born into what I have. Who knew a mango could look so different in the eyes of different people.