The Living Lunch

Before coming to Guatemala, everyone warned us about being too friendly with the indigenous children. There are stories of white people kidnapping Guatemalan children and selling them or using their organs to heal their own diseased children. My golden hair was mesmerizing for the little boy sitting behind us on the bus from Coban to Guatemala City. He liked touching it and I let him. I turned around and smiled at him and we became friends. His dad, a young man who spoke Spanish, was friendly. As we talked, the little hand-crafted bag on the seat started to move and make noise. That caught the attention of the two-year old, who then picked up the bag. Out poked the head of a little chicken! I was a little startled, which they found funny. Figuring that I needed an explanation, the father calmly explained to me that it was their lunch. Between playing with my hair and playing with the “lunch,” Alex was entertained for the four hour ride to the capital.