blessings and shoe shine

Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I felt tired and crabby and just a tad bit paranoid about having  a repeat of last Friday night, but as I was brushing my teeth, I found myself humming a song.  I'm not sure how long I was humming before I realized which song it was..."when upon life's billows you are tempest tossed, when you are discouraged, think that all is lost...count your many blessings name them one by one, count your many blessings see what God has done."  I have to admit, my reaction to this song was varied.  On the one hand, it's reassuring to have songs like that pop into my head at just the right time.  On the other hand, I was kind of irritated.  Sometimes I really want to just feed the bad mood. :-)  Yesterday the song won out, though, and I've found myself humming it again today.

This morning the woman at the house where I am staying asked me if I had any shoes that needed to be shined.  If so, she said there were a couple of young men in front of the house who would shine them for me for two quetzales.  They were shy and polite, and as I handed over my shoes I was reminded of another shoe shining incident I had when I was here before.

As I was walking through a park on my way home from church one day, a little boy approached me to ask if I wanted a lustre, shoe shine.  I asked how much, and he told me two quetzales.  I agreed, but after he shined my shoes, he explained that I was wrong--he had said "doce" (twelve) quetzales, not "dos" (two).  I explained that he had said two, but he stood his ground (with a big smile on his face, of course).  After a moment or two, other children joined him until there were four or five little boys in front of me, whispering to each other in either Mam or Quiche (I don't know enough about the languages to tell which one) and giggling before turning back to me to say in Spanish that the proper price was twelve.  I knew that was way overpriced by Guatemalan standards (though it was still the equivalent of less than two U.S. dollars) but I figured I wasn't getting taken advantage of if I went into it with my eyes open.  I looked at those eager faces, and (whether it was right or not, I'm still not sure) I decided to give in.  I still remember the sounds of excitement behind me as I walked away.   

And I remember a little shoe shining boy who intercepted me on another Sunday when I was walking home from church.  He was really talkative while he quickly polished my shoes.  Then he asked, when he was finished (with a smile), if he could have an orange from my bag (since I had just picked up a few things from the grocery store.)

Then there were a couple of little boys at the bus station when I was waiting to go to the capital to fly home for the last time.  The shoe shining boys are typically dirty, but these boys were more so than many I had seen.  They had sniffly noses and one had a cough.  They worked quickly, whispering to each other under their breath and glancing anxiously over their shoulders like someone was watching them.  I got the impression they were afraid.  These shoe shining boys didn't ask for a higher price.  They didn't ask for anything extra.  They just took their money when they were finished and hurried away.

I feared for them the most...for their health, their safety, what someone else might be doing to them to make them work.  And I still wonder about them from time to time...hoping the last six years have made their lives better instead of worse.