By, Chris Abel

We slipped and stumbled our way back from the adobe house to the main road. When all of us finally made it down - dirty but safe - our host, Edwin, pointed down the cliff that bordered the dirt road. “See this?” We nodded.

“There were about a dozen homes on this cliff last year.”
We stared.

“Mudslide,” he side quietly.

We stood there for a moment. Then we walked back to the truck in silence.

Welcome to the mountains of Guatemala.

This moment kept coming back to me as the week went on. Covered in sweat and mud, hunched over and gasping for breath, I would see that hillside in my mind’s eye and the too-bare areas where homes once sat. I imagined the villagers here, and what it must be like to spend months picking coffee berries in the very place where friends and family once lived… and died. In moments of clarity like this, exhaustion becomes an after-thought. When people lose their lives and their homes because of something as simple as a roadway drainage system, the cement drain you’re carrying on your back doesn’t seem so heavy anymore.

There were a lot of moments like that.

There’s something about doing hard labor that makes you think. It makes you think about your motivations and it makes you think about the people you are working for. Why were we in Guatemala, anyway?

Guilt?
Boredom?
Pity?
Duty?

We see it on the news every day: Starving children, human trafficking, victims of war, disease, poverty. And when we become aware of these things, we make a choice. The temptation is there to shrug your shoulders - to accept your fate as nothing more than a pawn in the world’s chess match. But regardless of the overwhelming forces at work, some of us keep trying. Why?

Because we hear the laughter behind the late-breaking newsflash.

Because even though we have given up hope, these people have not. In the midst of political corruption, poverty, sub-human living conditions, medical problems, and extreme work-loads, we still see hope.

Human nature is much more tenacious than we are led to believe.
These villagers do not need to be taught how to laugh or how to love. They do not need to learn about family or about faith. They do not need wealthy westerners to come teach them how to be civilized.

What they need are homes that are made from more than mud. And clean water within walking distance. They need roads that won’t wash away when it rains too hard. They need tooth-brushes and toothpaste to go along with the “western” soda and candy they acquire so easily. They need to be taught how to dispose of trash properly instead of throwing it down the mountainside. They need medicine. They need basic medical care. They need eye-glasses.

And many of these things can be accomplished by looking to solve something else they need: Fair wages.

Because there are people getting filthy rich at the expense of these villagers.

And so we worked. We lugged concrete tubes up the mountainside roads to create effective drainage systems. We transferred thousands of pounds of sand and rocks as we helped build a clinic to address the medical and dental needs of the people in the dozens of surrounding villages. We worked side-by-side with these people, creating new drying-beds for the next coffee bean season. We visited nearby homes, and watched as our host taught them to use toothbrushes and soap. We watched a woman learn how to open a bottle of multi-vitamins. (Those lids can be tricky, can’t they?)

And as I worked, I saw my same passion and ambition reflected in the eyes of my new friends. We came to feel the plight of the faceless - to be faceless ourselves for a time. From across the United States, and both Canada and Australia, we came together for a cause bigger than ourselves. I’ve never been more proud of a group of people in my life. High school students and working professionals, celebrities and introverts, philosophers and theologians, we worked together as one, pushing each another to new heights.

Know this - that whoever you are, you can be the change. The world is more moldable than you realize. But be prepared. You also will be changed.

Be the change. Be changed.

“It is one of the most beautiful compensations of life that no person can sincerely try to help another without helping themselves.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson