Two pots of water are reaching boiling temperature in a dim hut. Five pairs of eyes are fixated on the pots, waiting hungrily for the first bubbles to emerge. There’s us and there is a Guatemalan family, smiling shyly. The Guatemalan mother opens a spaghetti package, throws its content in the water after which the package flies into the fire. Tom’s eyes grow big as plates: “No, don’t throw the plastic into the fire.” Two Guatemalan women look at him, then at each other. The father speaks some English and explains them in Spanish what Tom has just said. They all laugh. Continue Reading →
