Sharing is one of the most basic social skills we're taught even before we can talk. We start with our baby toys - fighting over the blocks that our younger siblings are trying to put in their mouths while we're trying to build a tower. We share snacks at sleepovers with our friends (this one's important because sharing food is arguably the hardest thing). As we get older, we start sharing things that maybe shouldn't be shared - gossip, mono, etc. It's a learned activity and some people are better at it than others, and some people are so great at it that we label them as over-sharers. I would like to think I fall in the middle of the sharing road.
What would be considered too much sharing in the United States is common curtesy in Central America. You must know who is doing what, when, where, and why at all times and if you don't already know, you need to ask your neighbor because they definitely know. It's engrained in their culture to share. For example, they grow up in a house with at least two, if not three generations living in it. After marriage, the groom and his bride usually move back in with his family, where they soon have kids, and the tradition gradually repeats itself. Everything within the house is fair game, meals are shared, and children are cared for as a collective group regardless of who's who's mother (often siblings act as second and third mothers). This constant sharing doesn't stop with family though, it spills over to neighbors and even strangers, and is perhaps the reason Latin American culture is so warm and hospitable.
There was not a day in San Lucas where I was not touched by the generosity of the people, and my first night was no exception. After a tough goodbye with my host family and a 3 hour drive from Xela, I was exhausted both physically and emotionally. I was not in the mood to meet new people, and I would have gone to bed right then and there if it had been up to me, but Heather said we should go say hi to the neighbors, so off we went. We knocked on a makeshift gate, which was answered by an 8 year old, who led us into a small one bedroom house. It was obvious that they were a very poor family. They had two beds separated by a curtain, one lit candle, dirt floors, and at least 15 people living there. Within a minute and a half of introductions, I had been offered a plastic stool and handed an 8 day old infant. I was a complete stranger who didn't even speak Spanish well, yet they handed me the newest member of their family without hesitation. That's the rule #1 in sharing that I learned - share your loved ones.
Learning the final rule of sharing was a whole year process. I was touched by it daily, but it didn't occur to me until I was saying my goodbyes. Leaving San Lucas was hard, but hearing each persons heartfelt goodbye was the most beautiful and difficult thing I've experienced. Guatemalans are all about the present. They don't plan for the years ahead and they don't typically ruminate on past events. They live their lives in the moment, and therefore each goodbye was so sincere, telling me with painful honestly how thankful they are for my friendship and how they'll be waiting with arms open for when I return. They are masters of sharing their thoughts, emotions, and love. That's lesson #3 - share your heart.
The next lesson in sharing I received came from my construction friends. We were on a job down in Santa Teresita putting a new roof on a school. I went along for the company but they of course found me some work (using me for my height when they were too short). By the time lunch rolled around, I was sitting up against the wall with my trailmix in hand and a PB&J in my purse, while the guys arranged a little table and put some buckets around it for seating. I was planning on staying where I was because I could still be in the conversation, and also because I wasn't sure if there would be enough seats. As I pulled out my sandwich, Abraham looked at me and said, "You have to eat with us, come sit. We do this every time we are out on a site for lunch." When I stood up, it was obvious that I was attending their potluck picnic tradition. I felt like I was getting a little peek into their every day work life, a side of the Mission that volunteers don't often get a chance to experience. Each of the guys had packed a small tupperware container filled with enough food to share with each other. I was excited that I got to partake in this little family-like gathering, but again, I was just planning on eating my own food because I didn't have much to share. But Abraham passed me a tortilla and with a little encouraging, before I knew it, I had tried a little bit of what everyone had brought. I shared my trailmix because it was all I had to offer. Rule #2 - share your life (& your food, always your food).
Sharing. It's a concept I thought I knew pretty well, but like so much else, Guatemala changed my way of thinking on it. Sharing physical things of course is important, but the Guatemalan people taught me there is so much more to be shared in this world than just tangible objects. It's the intangible things that are the most important so we should share em while we've got em.
share your loved ones | share your life | share your heart