By Guatemala's largest lake Atitlan, I encountered an old woman. By walking up the hill from the lake's port of Santa Cruz, one can reach the area of her people's residence. She was sitting outside (supposedly) her house and quietly, emotionlessly, waving a hammock.
I stared at her for about 10 or 20 minutes, and asked her if I could take some photos of her. She stopped her motion and answered me "que? Tienes qué pagar." (What? You have to pay.") And went back to her machinery motion.
I stood there for another 5 or 10 minutes and paid her the amount of money she ordered me. The price she stated could normally considered to be extremely high for a photo. One could buy two big, good dinner with this money in Guatemala. As I paid, she looked surprised. I simply paid because I wanted to take photos of her and I had the money. Very simple. One gives what is requested in exchange of getting what one wants.
It is true that i felt a strong sense of hatred from her. But I still do not know against whom or what she had the hatred. I was sad. But me being sad is not the point of it. Being sad is just a state of being and being sad is not a sad thing. It is just as important as being happy. I do not want to add any more words here because if I do so, I'll start making up things. I will never forget her.
