On Being the Richest Guy Around

As a pastor in Chicago, I earned about the same as a Catholic school teacher. Plus I had health insurance, a furnished place to live at the rectory and my food was paid for. When I add up my salary and consider the value of a free place to live plus food and auto insurance- and add to that the gift income I received from weddings and at Christmas, I figure I earned, before taxes, the equivalent of the median household income in the US (which was $51,000 in 2012, before taxes). Sure, I can find ways to discount that amount: I worked long hours; I had just one day off per week; and while I had a free place to live, it was “above the store,” and much of the space was shared with my brother priests. But I could not complain. And to be honest, those who saw the rectory I was living in would likely say that I had an upper class living situation. In addition, I had a small cottage that I made mortgage payments on, drove a nice car, took nice vacations. I tithed, giving a tenth of my income to charity, but still managed a comfortable lifestyle.

Here in Guatemala I figure that my salary, not including the benefits of having a place to live and food in the mess hall, is the equivalent of what six or seven of the average employees here earn. I don’t have access to the salary amount of the professional staff, but of the 140 people who work here only about 15 or 20 are professionals. My salary is about the same as it was when I was at the parish, which makes me, I suspect, the richest guy around. I do have additional expenses, including some food and transportation costs (flights home, rental cars, etc). I sold my car before coming here, so at least I am not making that monthly payment. I still make mortgage payments on my cottage, but there is a little rental income for that that helps.

I try to be conscious of my consumption, and avoid being conspicuous about it. My living conditions are fine- although I may whine about rain coming through the roof or a shower without much hot water. Every month or so I drive forty minutes to a grocery store that is similar to a store we might have in Chicago. But I am hesitant to buy things that might appear ostentatious to people whose salary is $4000/year, or to kids who own nothing but some personal hygiene articles and the clothing on their backs and in their lockers. (I have put off buying a television, for example.) In town, the lack of means is even more vivid. I have been to lunch at homes with dirt floors where the kitchen was an outdoor lean-to with a cauldron over a wood fire. At Mass, many of the older Mayan women approach the altar for communion without shoes, their feet and toes gnarled from years of working in the fields. The yoghurt and cheese and chicken breast I keep in my fridge would all be considered luxury items to most here. Some things cost less here than in the US, but not that much less. And prices at the grocery store and the WalMart and Sears in the capital are equivalent to what I’d pay at home.

When I negotiated my salary to come here, I made the decision that anything above and beyond what I needed to make ends meet would go right back to the children.  

Whenever I am with others, I feel like it is my responsibility to pick up the tab. I buy things for the kids on occasion- ordering pizzas (they have a Domino’s about 20 minutes away), bringing coffee cakes and OJ when visiting the high school houses, covering expenses for the religion programming, etc. (some of those who donated to the chapel account told me that I can use their donations for other needs here as I see fit, and I have been judicious about that…) I used much of my own money to construct the apartment I am living in, as I felt that anything the house here spends on me is food out of the mouths of the kids. I was told that I could charge my groceries to the house, but have opted not to do so.

More recently, people have been asking me to lend them money. The requests are pretty modest, rarely for more than $15- which is the equivalent of a day’s wage for many here. If I were not concerned that word would get out and result in a line of people requesting hand-outs, I would not ask people to pay me back. In fact, I have set up a small “bank” of about $300 that I use to lend from. If there is money there, I can lend it out. If not, people need to wait until others pay me back so that I can lend it again. Requests have been to help pay rent (parishioners in town), for medicine (employees), for birthday gifts for siblings, for costs associated with high school. I know I need to keep an eye on this, though, to ensure that it does not get out of hand. It feels strange being seen as the guy with the money, but that is, in fact, what I am from their perspective. People have asked me to fund surgical procedures, hearing aids, and even help spirit away to the USA someone who felt he was in danger here.

Having something nice puts you under the spotlight. To the kids’ credit, they seem to take in stride that fact that the foreigners working and volunteering here have access to money. There is certainly an expectation that you share. Unfortunately, the kids do rob both each other and the home quite a bit (tennis shoes, pens, hair gel, cameras, cell phones, clothing… If someone sees something nice, he might steal it and then sell it to an extern student, who can then sell it in town). They have not robbed me yet (except for a set of Harry Potter videos that “disappeared” after being lent out). Some kids carry a backpack at all times, containing any personal items or things they deem valuable. The idea of having something nice and keeping it just for your own use is a foreign concept here. If a high school or university student has a radio or a cell phone with internet access (there is wifi on campus), these are automatically shared. Even at meals- if a child loses or forgets to bring up his bowl, spoon or cup, others share theirs without batting an eye. If someone has a little money and can buy food or soda from outside, it is a given that it will be shared. Even beds are sometimes shared (the conditions of some of the mattresses are pretty horrible).

People who know me know that I like nice things. I like to live “graciously,” and enjoy “the finer things in life.” I eat at restaurants more than many people, I suspect. I have had the privileges of travel that would be luxuries even to many of my American friends. I will be curious to see how two-and-a-half years of living in Guatemala affects my relationship with material items once I return. Maybe I will go hog-wild, trying to make up for lost time. More likely, I expect I will try to simplify things a bit. The general rule of thumb is that a priest should live around the level of the community he is serving. The pastor of a parish in Pilsen would be wise to avoid driving a BMW; the pastor of a parish in Lake Forest would cause scandal if he drove a “beater.”  Pope Francis made headlines when he challenged priests on the cars that they drive.

Obviously, the externals are not what is most important- what counts is our internal, personal relationship with “things” and our attachment to them. For those who have little or nothing, even thinking about this kind of relationship is a luxury. Yet I have known people of modest means who seem overly preoccupied with the accumulation of material goods; and I have known affluent people who display a remarkable level of non-attachment to the things that they own. I think it is important to avoid putting people in boxes where this issue is concerned.

For now I need to accept that as an American and as someone with some nicer things than others here, I am seen as one of the richest guys around.