What My Children Don't Know

We live in Guatemala.  My children were born here.  Guatemala is home and the way things are done here is the norm to them. 

At times I am overcome with nostolgia, wishing they could live MY childhood which was so great.  But I suppose that everyone must live their own childhood and créate their own memories. 

Still, there are some things that my children don't know.

My children don't know about orange juice and lemonaide from concentrate.  They have never seen juice come out of a can and would probably be baffled at the very thought!  To them orange juice and lemonaide are squeezed by hand from oranges and lemons bought at the market for a Little more tan spare change.

making oragne juice with Mirian- the lady who Works in our home

mmmmm, sucking the oranges is just one of the perks!

My children don't know about cheese wrapped in plastic for individual slices. But really, can you call that stuff cheese?  We buy all sorts of cheese here.  Some of it made by hand locally.  The área where we live and minister is known for its lactose product production.  And some of it we purchase at the grocery store.  But NONE of it comes wrapped in individual slices. 

I recall a visit to Virginia when my oldest son was just over two years old.  We were visiting my grandmother who had set out a good old american platter of lunch meats and cheese for making lunch sandwhiches.  When Corban discovered that he could unwrap the cheese he was enthralled by this new game.  He kept offering cheese to aunts and uncles around the table, happily unwrapping each slice that was asked for.  Some of us ended up with several slices of cheese on our sandwhiches and I think grandma ended up with no left over cheese!  Of course, he doesn't remember that.

My children have no concept of people who take care of their own households with no outside help.  they don't know that there are countries in the world where entire households are run off the elbow grease of mom and dad alone!  This is reflected in my 5-year-old's comment one day upon hearing of a friend who had just had a baby.  "Well, she will sure need to hire a nanny now."  In his world, just about everyone he knows has household help, nannies.... or both.  My two-year-old thinks the iron and broom belong to the lady who Works in our home.  He gets highly disgruntled if I touch either one without permission!

But having household help isn't all about living a life of luxury.  It is also about necessity.  Living in a land where it rains day in and day out for 7 months of the year means that someone should alwys be on hand to bring the clothes in lest they get rained on!  Having the trashman come door to door to charge each month means someone must be around to open the door.  Having no dishwasher means a lot of dirty dishes pile-up.  So basically, I need to be around to tend my own home or pay someone to do it for me.

 Also, hiring someone to work in the home provides Jobs for thousands of women across the country who would not have work otherwise.  These are women who never went to or finished school.  They are often illiterate.  They have no skills whatsoever besides being able to keep a home.  It is the upper and middle class giving back to the lower class in a dignified manner.

My children don't know about neighborhoods, parking lots, businesses and Banks which are NOT guarded by armed guards.  Watching a hired guard walk by with a sawed off shotgun or semi-automatic weapon is so normal that they notice more the ABSENCE of them.  When we travel to Virginia they always glance around for the guard tower.  They have even asked on ocassion why they see no guards in the neighborhoods. 

My kids don't know the national anthem or the pledge of allegience.  Clearly an issue I must soon address.  However, in the schools they attend they are taught the Guatemalan National Anthem and the pledge to the Guatemalan flag.  It is what they need to know in this land they call home.

heading off to the first day of Kindergarten at a Guatemalan School

My children are Guatemalan.  As much as I insist that they are American,  and as much as their Passports attest to the fact that they are American citizens, in their heart, in their home, and in their culture- my children are Guatemalan.

And this is, indeed, creating very different memories for them than my own.