I am back in the wonderful country of Guatemala this week, preparing for the
National Association for the Practice of Anthropology - Occupational Therapy Field School. I was lucky enough to return to Antigua as the coordinator for this fantastic fieldwork experience for both anthropology and occupational therapy students. We will be going on a whirlwind adventure of four weeks exploring and researching various topics including Pediatric Development, Sustainable Technology, and NGO Networks in Health.
Before that adventure begins, I have had some time this week, as we prepare for the fast paced weeks to come, to explore and spend some time simply being in Antigua. Today, I found myself sitting on a bench in the middle of the city. In the center of this small colonial town sits Parque Central, a hive of activity, events, and interactions. People, both Guatemalan and foreign, walk, talk, and move throughout the green plants, cobblestone streets, and small stores. Venders selling ice cream, bracelets, table centerpieces, and shoe shines meander through the park gently and sometimes more aggressively engaging with those passing by or seated on the benches. Tour guides and instant photographers linger around the fountain in the middle of the square, waiting for someone who needs their services. Young children play around the fountain and old men smoke cigars, commenting on scantily clad
gringas walking by. Pairs of police officers wearing intimidating military-like uniforms stroll through the area eyeing the people with a heightened awareness.
Guatemalan teenage school girls sit in a circle around one of the benches in the park surrounding a laptop computer looking at something that periodically makes them shriek like... well... school girls. They giggle and glance at the older boys who walk passed them, all of them dressed in the typical white and blue uniforms of Guatemalan public schools. A young mother and her child sit near the edge of the fountain. The little boy chases the pigeons as she texts on her cell phone, taking a moment to stop and give her child a peck on the lips when he approaches. Today, there is an event for a local gym in which children from all the local schools came out and did something akin to Zumba with the gym's instructors. There was music and microphones echoing throughout the square, but one could always still hear the constant flow and splash of the center fountain over it all.
As I sat on that bench I pulled out my old Spanish class notes to review some vocabulary. After a few pages, I realized there was no way I would remember any of it with everything happening around me so I opened my notebook and began journaling some thoughts. As I looked around, the majority of other park-goers who were sitting on benches had no notebooks, books to read, crosswords to fill out, or even cameras to take pictures. They were doing nothing. I realized I had pulled out my notebooks to provide some impression that I was not just sitting there watching everyone; I was being productive and had a reason for sitting down and being in the park. However everyone else had no intention of creating an image of productivity, they were doing nothing. Doing nothing, what an interesting idea. Is it even possible?
I guess in reality, these people were doing. They were talking with each other, they were simply being present in the community, and they were watching, breathing, seeing, itching, smoking, hearing, touching, simply existing for a moment to experience the world around them. Such a foreign concept to my mind, marinaded in the protestant work ethic and the fast paced productive culture of the US. How often do you see people at the park in the US simply sitting and watching the other people at the park? They are reading a book, doing homework, exercising, or doing a variety of other things, but few are simply existing in the space, experiencing the world around them without being productive. We march through life with productivity as our goal.
As I sat staring into my world of occupation and analysis, I had stopped writing and was simply glancing around. In that moment, the Guatemalan man who was sitting near me on the bench began a conversation with me. We talked about his teacher in Guatemala City and about some sicknesses he had. He asked about why I was in Guatemala and how long. Then we stopped talking as he told me "I didn't mean to interrupt your work, you can continue working now." He went back to staring and I returned to my notebook.
My apparent productivity had stifled an opportunity to engage the people around me. Holding still in my productive timeline allowed someone else to catch up to me and connect. When I opened up to the world around me and allowed an empty space to emerge in my productive life, it was quickly filled with community. I wonder what else could fill up in those spaces if we just allowed them to happen? Maybe "doing nothing", something so countercultural, is actually an opportunity for the world to fill in the vacant corners of your life, allowing the nuances of people, the smells of the air, the sounds of a fountain, and the sights of a community to enter into the dance we call life. Maybe in spending some time "doing nothing" sometimes we learn to exist together and taste the diverse flavors of this world.
