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Before we ate lunch, we drove to the cemetery. Why the cemetery? Because from the cemetery we could walk to an overlook and see the garbage dump from above– it was inside a crater-esque area. For our bus to enter the cemetery, Juan Carlos had to pay as we drove through a gate. We navigated to a spot far back, and he parked the bus. All of us hustled out and followed Andres and Juan Carlos, police officer in front …
… That’s what our arrival at St. Francis Coll was all about on our first day. As we entered the facility we were given small handmade placards that said “Guatemala” and had a small doll on them. We sat alongside the walls of the inner courtyard and waited, warily, to see what came next. Andres informed us that an assembly would occur shortly and that we should sit tight. The bell rang. Chaos began as children poured from classrooms and …
Customs was the simplest I’ve ever been through: our luggage was safe, we had all our teens, and we walked out into chaos outside the airport. People were standing along the edge of a gate perimeter that was on the street. We saw a sign “St. Francis of Assisi”! It was Carlos Andres. He felt familiar and safe—just because I knew he was expecting us. “Please, call me Andres,” he introduced himself. Andres introduced us to our driver, Juan Carlos, …
