Guatemalan Logic

Sometimes I just don’t get Guatemalan logic. It’s worse than Cajun logic. Sometimes it turns out that they are right, like when they told us to add water to water-based paint so that it would go farther. But sometimes, it is just confounding. Like today when our mini bus that we take to school got stuck in the mud. The bus got stuck the first time on the way to school. We were instructed to all move to the back of the bus to weigh down the rear so the front of the bus would come up and let us escape the mud. This logic worked out well enough in this situation, and with a bit of pushing from some men that appeared out of nowhere, we were free.
But then came round-two on the way home. You would think that a lesson had been learned earlier in the day and that we would either A1) go around the deepest and wettest mud on the fairly solid mud to the side or B2) all get out so that the van would be lighter and could pass through like it did on its way to pick us up. But the driver revved his engine and we went straight through. Or, more correctly, straight in. Once again we tried the never-fail-everyone-to-the-back strategy, but this time it failed. Since the back tires were the ones that were stuck in the first place, with all the weight in the back we just sunk in farther and farther every time we tried to get out. Even when another truck tried (and failed) to pull us out, it just didn’t seem logical to any of the teachers for us to get out. Finally Laura took the initiative and climbed out the window where the mud was more firm. I followed and we finally cajoled the others out of the side door.
The situation looked bleak, and we were hungry, so we all started walking. I felt a little bad for leaving the driver there, but we weren’t helping any, and women don’t get dirty so…off we went. The countryside was beautiful and some nice man finally picked us up in his pick-up. When we finally got to highway, we sat ourselves down to wait for some kind of transportation to pass that wasn’t a moto. But lunchtime cravings overtook us, and we soon found a nice woman with a watermelon stand who forced her poor child to practice English with us. Finally someone’s dad arrived to give us all a jalon back home. As we rode back with our lovely new friends and enjoyed the last of our delicious watermelon, I thought, “why does the world have to be logical?” maybe a bit of illogical aberrance is what makes life beautiful, unpredictable, and interesting, even if it does make us late for lunch.