I spent four weeks this summer in Guatemala volunteering with Camino Seguro (Safe Passage). The goal of Camino Seguro is to "help children of families working in the Guatemala City Garbage Dump move beyond their poverty in a dignified and permanent way through education." At the project, the students have lunch, get homework help, partake in educational reinforcement activities and play games.

I worked with the Básico class, which included the middle school grade levels and students of ages ranging from 13 to 18. Volunteers work as assistants to the Guatemalan teachers. I was placed with the older students because I'm a Spanish major and I wanted to gain confidence in my Spanish speech. My experiences in the Básico classroom, especially in the first two weeks, were among the hardest of my life. The teenagers in the program came from difficult backgrounds; many had been abused by parents and all had lived in poverty. I knew that it would take time to earn their trust. I was worried that it would take the entire month to get settled and then I would have to leave. I was hurt when I was rejected or mocked by students.

But then I realized something: it had nothing to do with me. Their rejection or disengagement was a reaction to much larger issues; their country has, in many ways, written off these students. Once I adopted this attitude, it was much easier for me to deal with the challenges that my students threw at me. They also began to trust me, to like me and even sometimes to confide in me, or least ask me to play Uno.

I had ideas for activities to do with my class, but the teacher wasn't always greatly supportive so it was a challenge to implement my ideas. I was, however, able to teach a few math shortcuts and lead some English lessons. I learned several strategies for getting and keeping students' attention and became more certain that I want to become a teacher.

From learning a little about each student, I became attached to them. There were all kinds of students with all kinds of interests ranging from art to math to chess, but the two most common interests were music and fútbol. Because there was a radio in our room, the first thing they did when they entered was to find their favorite songs. Fútbol is, of course, a national passion and the country mourned their team's loss to Mexico. Two days each week, the students would go to a field where all the older children played fútbol. Unfortunately, my class was often on the losing end of its rivalries with the others.

The most powerful experience of my stay was the Mirador Tour. One morning a group of volunteers walked with a guide to a cemetery hill where we could look out over the city dump. There, we watched trucks dumping their loads and people picking out cardboard and metals they could sell. Children are no longer allowed in the dump, but they used to work alongside their parents. I don't know how I would have handled watching children pick through trash, some of it toxic. It was heartbreaking to see their parents work in such inhuman conditions, and I felt an overwhelming sense of uselessness. I felt like everything that I did was selfish and petty in comparison to what I saw that morning, and I spent a long time writing about my feelings in my journal that night.

I lived in Antigua, a smaller city an hour west of the capital. We traveled between Antigua and Guatemala by camioneta, old American school buses painted colorfully, given names and jam-packed with passengers. I wouldn't have believed how many people could fit into one bus until I experienced it personally and uncomfortably.

I stayed with a Guatemalan family who rented rooms to volunteers and language students. It was a huge help to have other volunteers for housemates who could explain everything and made great company. I traveled with them to el Lago de Atitlán, a breathtakingly beautiful lake surrounded by mountains and volcanoes that slope right into the water. We later hiked up the active volcano, Pacaya, and went close enough to watch the falling rocks and spurts of lava. I also went shopping in Chichicastenango, a market town with innumerable vendors selling gorgeous textiles.

After four weeks, I was eager to return home but reluctant to leave the children whom I loved and the country where I finally felt comfortable. The photos on my shelf and desktop bring back many memories, both wonderful and heartbreaking. The students of Camino Seguro taught me so much and it is my hope that I will repay them by using the experience they gave me to help my present and future work with youth.