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Personal Narrative: My Trip To Guatemala Essay

I would like to say I know Spanish, after four years of studying in high school and multiple trips to South and Central America, yet it seems every time I leave the States, I find myself in a frantic struggle to process the words I know and figure out the meanings of the ones I do not. Sometimes this simply means missing out on a few insignificant details, other times it can seriously complicate life. Two years ago, I went to Guatemala to help build a cancer clinic for Casa Alleyula, Guatemala’s largest children’s home.

I was lucky enough to have my beautiful girlfriend Katie on the team, with eyes like rich dark chocolate and long black hair that fell perfectly at her shoulders. We had been dating for over a year but we had never had the opportunity to do anything like travel out of the country together. We were both part of a larger team sent by my home church. As we continued down the road that ran through the compound, we went further into the courtyard and were met with a T-junction. To our left was the soccer court which would become the hub of Casa during the day.

If we continued in the same direction, we’d be stopped by the second main gate but instead we turned right and followed a small path to Gringo House, which is where we’d be living the next two weeks. Everyone spent the next ten minutes in a frantic scramble to claim their own bunk. While on site, our team of fifteen would be living in quarters equivalent to that of a two bedroom apartment. Once everyone was unpacked, we finally went to meet the kids and start the work we traveled so far to do.

I immediately clicked with two girls named Francesca and Melanie. They were both young teenagers about 14 or 15. Francesca had a tall slim frame with brown eyes to match her hair. I had an immediate connection with her because she would always laugh at my jokes, any time I decided to regurgitate an over-used anecdote I did not find very funny, she would smile and giggle and I would immediately be wrapped in her laugh. Her friend Melanie was the spitting image of Francesca, tall, attractive, and unforgettable brown hair and eyes.

She was not as easy to entertain with my worn out jokes but she was just as fun to be around because of her poise and confidence. Of course just meeting them I wanted to see if we had any similar interests and that’s when I found out they played soccer, so I invited them to play sometime with Katy and me. However, Katy did not take as much of a liking to these girls as I did. The next day after moving in and becoming accustomed to my new living space, I decided to see if Katy wanted to play soccer with me.

She happily agreed and we made our way to the soccer fields. On the way there, however, Melanie came strolling in from behind us and grabbed my arm. Before I could begin to process the situation, she and Francesca began a chant in their native tongue saying “Celosa” over and over again. Like I said, I like to believe I know Spanish and a bit about South American culture, however I did not know enough to even begin to guess what it was these girls were doing. I took it as a joke, but obviously Katy did not.

She tried to play it off but I could tell there was an underlying problem and I could only assume it was because of Melanie and Francesca. The Fourth of July fell a week into our trip and Casa’s founders took the opportunity to showcase their American pride through a firework show grand enough to put DisneyLand to shame. We all came together that night as friends and family to enjoy each others company and watched as firebolts of red erupted in the sky. Katy and I sat side by side on a small concrete wall watching the fireworks in all their grandeur.

Small white rockets would soar into the air and as they burst into sparks of amber rain, we would mimic the sound of their explosions and crackles. It was a beautiful night with a beautiful girl but on account of new Guatemalan friends it suddenly became quite short lived. Melanie and Francesca were back at their act and this time Katy had had enough. She exploded more violently than any firecracker that night; I tried to talk her down and tell her they were just playing and she asked me how I knew, and that’s when it hit me.

I did not know, but I wanted to find out. I walked around the camp looking for someone who could translate and I found a man named Bubba who told me that “celosa” is translated in English to “jealous”. He then started giving me background information on South American culture and phrases like celosa. I was relieved to know after learning about the culture that I was right and the girls really had no malicious intent towards Katy for what they were doing, it was normal for them.

I jumped at the earliest opportunity to see Katy again and explain to her how the girls were joking and meant no harm. When I finally found her she was across the compound playing at the baby dorm. She spotted me out of the corner of her eye while I was still about about 30 steps away. A few moments later I was up to the towering iron gate that barred my path. In the seconds between Katy spotting me and me actually making it to the gate she had calmly stood up, knocked the dust off of herself, casually walked to the gate and firmly turned the deadbolt.

Perplexed by her actions I yelled to her. “Katy, what are you doing? ” Like an eight year old she remained silent and turned back to playing with the babies. As a last chance effort I put all my dignity aside and continued to speak through the iron bars between us. “Katy, I need to talk to you. “| said. Yet she remained silent, I did know of one trick I had left up my sleeve. Under normal circumstances I would never even think of saying this out loud or even thinking it but right now I believed it to be warranted. “Katy, you were wrong. I said. Like a puma she launched to her feet and was in my face in less than a second. At this moment I was silently thanking the Lord for the massive gate that stood between us. “? Was wrong? ” She asked, shaking. “I flew across the world to take care of orphans and you’re here trying to hook up with the locals. ” While she was trying to catch her breath between accusations | had to act fast to get a word in. I told her how I had talked to Bubba and how when they say celosa they’re basically just saying “you jealous? “.

I told her how more so than anything it is just a game that some of the girls here play, and how they meant no harm, they were simply messing with her. While | finished my monologue, she had a chance to catch her br and actually think about what had gotten her so worked up. By the time I conclude my speech, she had calmed down enough to be reasoned with. She came out from behind the gate and we were able to legitimately talk out what happened. We worked everything out and were able to spend the rest of our trip working together like the power couple everyone knew us to be.

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