Dayana
Dayana
was my tramlator when I
went to Guatemala.
She could speak English
and Spanish.
Her family,
except for Susana,
spoke only Spanish.
I spoke English
and German.
If it were not for Dayana,
my time in Guatemala
would have been me,
tongue-tied
like most Americans.
Dayana had a desire
to go to college.
I told her I would pay her way.
I gave her money,
electronics she wanted,
including an electric keyboard.
Her aunt and I took her to the school
and paid her tuitiion.
Everything I gave her,
including money,
I was told she gave to her boyfriend.
I was told she quit college;
moved in with her boyfriend,
and had two daughters.
After three years,
the college sent me a letter,
demanding no money.
Dayana had graduated.
Needless to say,
I was happy,
and felt guilty
for doubting her.
She also sent me a picture
of her, sitting on large rocks,
her right leg over her left,
with both feet in clear blue water,
no doubt, she was beautiful
in her two piecce bathing suit,
and I could see in it, her pride
in her accompliments
and she was happy.
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translator not tramlator…