05-05-06 Food from Heritage Church

This week I brought 4200 lbs of food to Tabacal with the money provided by Heritage church. The townspeople were very excited as the previous supply had run out and they were in need again. There was a certain anticipation in the air as we unloaded the truck. once the food was organized under the roof at the main meeting area Manuel (one of the 5 leaders of the community) organized the people in a line in order of family number (each family has a number from 1-40) in order to divide the food. I had calculated the amount of food to be given to each family based on the age and number of people in a family so each person would get their just share.

Once everything was in place the main even started. There was the murmuring of the people waiting in line. the hustle and bustle of those dividing the food and those packing the food and those transporting it back to their homes. The sounds told it all. Manuel would call out the number and name of the next family and then the poundage of cornmeal and then black beans and then rice and then sugar and then bottles of oil. "Familia 12, Juan Tomas Xon, 32 maseca, 24, 24, 4 de asucar y 3 botellas" then the assembly line rushed and roared mike a great machine. The cornmeal team scouped the flour into a plastic bag with their hands making a whoosh whoosh sound. The black bean team poured dry beans into a 5 gallon pointers bucket with the sound of a great rain, while the rice team did the same but with a higher pitched sound as the rice banged around in the bucket. Manuel (the other Manuel), because he was in the far back of the assembly line, called back the numbers for oil and sugar to make sure they were correct and then silently got the bags of sugar and bottles of oil. Then all of us from the assembly line took turns weighing our buckets on the only hanging scale we have (really it is a 50 lb luggage scale my parents brought down and left for the people of Tabacal).

Nearly without exception the representative from each family was the woman because the men were working out in the field or had taken a bus to look for work in Escuintla. The women gathered their sacks (remaining cornmeal, bean, and rice sacks from previous deliveries) to receive their share. Then they heaved their loads on their head and on the backs of their children and began their walk up or down the mountain to their champa (a small hut made from bamboo or sticks with a tin roof). All day it took to divide the food but as we were finishing at 4pm I was reminded that rainy season was on its way. It was not raining yet but the sky was filled with lighting and thunder both threatening and promising rain. The townspeople had tried planting crops earlier but they all failed. They then decided on chili because it requires little water and could be sold to someone they know to export to the US. They had cleared and burned 2 fields and 3 months ago I had helped them plant the seedlings and we had been waiting hopefully ever since.

The chili was just about ready to harvest and I was anxious to see the fields. While we were walking through the jungle to the fields they told me that harvesting of chili would start next week. Upon arrival Juana began walking through the field picking some chili’s. They presented them to me as a gift of the first fruits. It was cause for celebration but the thunder interrupted with a reminder that my curfew had passed and it was time for me to go home because I still had to cross 4 rivers on my way home and once the rain finds its way into the rivers flow they do not like to be crossed.

I said my "thank you"s and "good bye"s and mounted the hero for my rush home (the manufacturer of my motorcycle is Asia Hero Motors so my bike has been nicknamed "the hero"). Luckily, I only encountered light showers while on the dirt road and crossing the rivers but once I reached the pavement the rain released its fury. It didn't rain, it POURED like it only can in central america! The wrath of the sky lasted to Alotenango (about halfway home). By the time I had reached home I was blown dry or at least damp until I stepped off my bike and the water that had puddled in my boots came squirting out making my boots and pantlegs wet once more.

What a Day!

P.S. Carl and I also gave blood (something which I have not done in a long time because it always makes me sick). There is a 5 year old girl here that needed heart surgury and for some reason for her surgury she needed to bring the blood needed for the operation with her or she couldn't have the operation. I received a bracelet that said, "Salvé una vida, doné sangre" which means "I saved a life, I donated blood" and her name is Beverly! And yes I did get sick, a pale green, barf in the trash, give me a coke while I lay here tingling sick.