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I have visited fifteen schools in the past week and a half. Each one is certainly unique, but schools in rural Guatemala are bound to share some characteristics. For example, students are fascinated by us Americans (I am pretty exotic), and are curious about our visiting their village. The more outgoing children follow us around. Some ask questions. Others lean over our shoulders to see what we’re photographing. Our visit to Rio Mactzul today initially included these aspects, but the moment someone whipped out a soccer ball, visitors were no longer the most intriguing option for the students.

A bottle of Poland Spring + a five-minute shower + a flush of the toilet + a washing of the hands + a load of laundry in the sink ≈ 20 gallons of water. Within the past hour, I—a single person with reasonable needs—have used 20 gallons of water, roughly equal to how much half of the student population at Colonial San Juan uses during the length of the school day. To me, this is unfathomable.

Sibaca is more difficult to get to than any other place I’ve ever traveled. Ever. We thumped and thwacked up the side of a mountain for what felt like an hour until we finally arrived at the community’s school.