Images of Guatemala

by Margreta Silverstone

I have called you by name; you are Mine! (Isaiah 43: 1)

The first day on the worksite, I teamed with Raul to cut wire pieces. These wire pieces would be used to tie the rebar to brackets that others were shaping. It was a tedious job and I wished that I knew more Spanish, as Raul tried to communicate with me. We managed to talk about Bill's boots and mention ages of different people. We tried to communicate the English and Spanish equivalents of things: "Buenos Dias", "Buenos Noches", and simple numbers. But, in the end, we smiled, laughed, and kept cutting the wire. Sometimes we would gaze off into the countryside, admiring the mountains and the fields around us, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze, then smile and go back to work.

A few days later, we were ready to pour concrete. Everyone worked on that project. Some people were giving buckets of sand or stone or water or bags of cement to the people working the cement mixer. Some were taking the wheel-barrows loaded with concrete closer to the school building or taking the empty ones back. We had small buckets to scoop out the concrete and pour it into the framing trough, but the Mayan community men decided that was too slow. With three men, they lifted the wheel-barrows full of concrete and poured them into the troughs. The troughs were at waist to chest level on these men and I was amazed at their strength.

With Eduardo, I worked to get the concrete to go into the trough, make sure it didn't spill over the edge, get the troughs full and aerate the concrete to make sure there were no air pockets. We were both mindful of the men who were lifting the wheel-barrows and worked as fast as we could to get the concrete out. We didn't have much time for even attempted conversation, so we would just smile and nod at each other when we'd done a good job.

Eduardo and I joked about his concrete block. He was shorter than I and needed to use a concrete block to stand on so that he could reach the top of the wheel-barrow and see into the trough. When one section of the wall was done, we would quickly move to the next section of the wall. Eduardo would carry his block with him. While we couldn't talk about our families or share ideas, Eduardo and I had shared through our work.

On the last day we were in the village, the community held a fiesta for us. They made us rice and beans and tortillas and provided sodas. I saw Raul and Eduardo again that day. They greeted me by name and smiled.

Isaiah talks about God knowing me by name as a sign of belonging. Somehow I also belong to Raul and Eduardo as I was known by name by them.

Margreta Silverstone lives in Takoma Park MD.