Same and Different

Life is life, no matter where you live it. There is a common human experience that makes it possible for us to relate to people who may not even speak the same language we do. In the interest of such experience, I'd like to answer the question most commonly asked of me:
"How do you live in a Third World Country??"
Here's how:
In the States, I went to the grocery store. In Guatemala, I go to the grocery store. The only difference is, I can only buy what I can carry in bags (or boxes) to my car, which is usually parked a couple of blocks away.
Well, there might be another difference. I am getting some lightning-fast math skills since I convert every price I see into dollars by dividing it by 8 in my head. I say "price I see," because often there is no price that I can see, and apparently whatever price the cashier assigns it that day is the final answer.

In the States, we sometimes visited our local farmers' market to buy produce. In Guatemala, I sometimes buy produce at the mercado. The only difference is, I speak Spanish, I try to haggle for a different price, and I have learned to ignore the iguanas, rats, roaches, and other wildlife I may come across.
On the plus side, the produce is so ripe and ready that it tastes exactly like it's supposed to.

In the States, I turned on my stove. In Guatemala, I turn on my gas stove, and if, perchance, it is out of gas, I call my friendly gas people and they bring me a new tank. If you run out of gas in the middle of cooking dinner, there's always cereal.

In the States, I went running. In Guatemala, I run with our IDC running club. The only difference is, in our many (hilly!) miles, we have come across all manner of animals, including snakes, pigs (large, and dead), aggressive bees and dogs. We also get the view of an active volcano puffing nearly every time we run.

In the States, I ran errands. In Guatemala, I run errands. The only difference is, I've learned to use my hand as my turn signal, cobblestoned streets don't even feel bumpy to me anymore, and I'm pretty sure I no longer remember what a stoplight means.

In the States, I swore we'd never own a motorcycle. In Guatemala, we do. Enough said.

In the States, we drove everywhere. In Guatemala, we still rely on our car a lot, but we've also taken advantage of our local transportation system, such as chicken buses, tuk-tuks, and just plain old walking.

In the States, I took my kids to the doctor. In Guatemala, I sometimes don't have to. Amoxicillin is available at our local farmacia, right over the counter. Nifty!

In the States, I used my dishwasher every day, sometimes twice a day. In Guatemala, I wash dishes by hand, in a single sink, and at the risk of sounding arrogant, I am pretty darn fast at it.

In the States, I bought fruit and ate it. I turned on the tap and used the water for cooking and drinking. In Guatemala, the only difference is I clean fruit with a disinfectant, and I use a special filter for all of the water. Because parasites are not our friends.

In the States, we went to church. In Guatemala, we go to church. The difference is.....pretty much nothing. We worship the same God, read the same Bible, have the same love for each other, feel our hearts stirred in the same way.

In the States, we were blessed. And in Guatemala, we still are.