Life In A Hut
A few things I’ve learned while working in a third-world country
To listen to NEWWD as a podcast, narrated by Kristen, click the play button below.
“It’s hot,” he moaned, “I’m going inside.”
“I wish,” I replied on WhatsApp. “I don’t have AC.”
“I’d die,” he said, running for the door.
“Yes, some people do.”
Summer is here in eastern Guatemala. It came late, thank God, but hit with a vengeance. Today’s high, 103 with a heat index of 109.
It’s bloody hot.
Central AC doesn’t exist, and electricity is so expensive — most couldn’t afford it anyway. We have a unit in our bedroom, so the rest of the day, we melt. That’s a different story for a different sweaty day.
But what if you live in a hut?
Yes, huts exist and not just on Nat Geo. I believe more people on Earth live in some sort of hut-style domain than not.
Tiny house movement not included.
When we entered the mission field, I’d been to a few villages and seen a handful of huts. But being here full-time changed my perspective.
Seeing and experiencing are not the same.
The structure
Huts can be made of tin, reed, sticks, found plastic sheeting, and scraps of whatever is large and flat from the trash in the dump. Because there is no zoning, I can sit comfortably on my front porch and look across at a row of tin shacks.
A vast majority have what you’d refer to as a “dirt floor,” but what I prefer to call “dirt.”
A short tutorial on dirt — Author’s YouTube channel (please subscribe!)
When it rains, it’s usually torrential, especially in the mountains where it all runs downward. The dirt floor now becomes mud. Mud in your home, mud in your kitchen, mud on your clothes, your kids, your dog — it’s impossible to wear shoes.
In your home, mud magnifies.
Homes are not water-tight, so most of what little you own is soaked.
“Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink”
— Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Never such a truth be told.
Huts and shacks are easily washed away by mudslides during the rainy season. I’ve walked down the street behind five coffins in a funeral procession after an entire family, except the father and one young child, were killed in a mudslide.
Horrible, but not uncommon.
The bathroom is an outhouse, plain and simple. There is a molded toilet over a deep hole in the ground. You poo in the hole and toss your paper in. If you’re fancy, there might be a grocery bag hanging from a nail for the paper, which will be burned with the trash later — poo and all.
Much trash and waste end up washing down the mountains, into the river systems, and out to the Caribbean or the Pacific. Choose your coast.
The amenities
A large majority don’t have electricity or running water.
The more elevated and remote you go, the higher the poverty level and the lower the standard of living.
Electricity varies, either unavailable or extremely expensive. Anyone with electricity tends to have loose wires running to a pole (legal or not is another story) and one light bulb hanging loose in the main room (if there is more than one room), and the occasional phone charger.
News flash, a cell phone is no longer a luxury but a necessity. One person might have a phone in a household of eight, but they only purchase SIM cards for minutes. Even in a country with a high percentage of poverty, malnutrition, and infant death, there is free Facebook, TikTok, and YouTube provided with your SIM card.
Social media addiction is alive and well around the globe.
Food is typically cooked on an open fire in a room with no chimney. Walls and ceilings are blackened with soot, so I’ve learned the hard way not to lean on anything. Many women and children suffer from chronic respiratory issues, burns, and skin problems. Home fires and deforestation are just a few more problems that can occur with an open fire.
Imagine having your fire pit in your house with no chimney.
Imagine.
Running water is almost non-existent in many villages, especially in higher elevations. Also, no water that comes from a tap is drinkable. If you want to drink clean, safe, filtered water, you’ll need to buy it. We do.
Many people still use river water for all their water needs — cooking, cleaning, and bathing. The idea of drinking water for thirst is somewhat laughable. As we introduced our water program to several villages, we had to focus heavily on the physical benefits of water versus it being a “delicious beverage.”
Much of the culture doesn’t drink water because it’s not affordable or, in many cases, accessible.
When someone boils river water, that doesn’t mean it’s going to clear out all the worms and parasites — diarrhea is a more normal condition than not. Especially among young children.
Again, imagine. Diarrhea is your norm.
Side Effects
When you live without walls, you are exposed to every bug, germ, parasite, and animal. Dogs are used as watchdogs instead of pets. Dogs, barely kept alive, are tied to a tree to aggressively ward off any intruders. Thieves, rapists, and other animals will come around to try to take your belongings and/or your family.
Because most rural dogs aren’t usually trained or domesticated, they’ll bite and attack their owners, mysteriously disappear, and be replaced with a piece of tin and a padlock.
My husband was attacked by a dog while delivering water last year. Luckily, it tore his pants but not his skin. The next day, the dog was gone.
As mentioned earlier, the heat in summer is unbearable. Typical summer months are March, April, and May, but like any other warm climate, the hot days tend to roll forward like a bowling ball for months at a time. It becomes monotonous and affects millions, especially when much industry here is agriculture, farming, and construction. Everyone is outside.
We’ve had to explain to many families that it’s better to sit outside under a shady tree than inside a tin hut with no windows — or you become a baked potato. If you have electricity and a fan, at some point, the fan can only blow hot air. Now you’re a baked potato in a convection oven.
No bueno.
This is how people die of heat exhaustion.
During winter months, what many of us consider “lovely” or “brisk” is freezing when you live with no walls. A balmy 50–60 degree night is not pleasant when you’re sleeping in it. One of the biggest requests we get in the winter is for warm clothing and blankets. No one wants to camp wearing a cotton t-shirt and share a tiny blanket with three siblings. But they do.
Why should I care?
We all have our problems. Overdue mortgage, kid addicted to drugs, husband got laid off, and overbearing mother. I get it. Life is hard.
The US and many other first-world countries have safety nets. Food stamps, welfare, WIC cards, school lunch programs, etc. They all have their issues, but they exist. In many countries, there is nothing.
If you can’t work because the crops are burned by drought, you don't earn money. When you don’t earn money, you starve.
To death.
If you can’t afford medicine, there is no Medicaid system to pay for your bills.
You die.
If the teacher quits her job, there is no school until they find another teacher. No one gets an education.
You suffer.
This experience has made me grateful. Grateful and humble.
I also have a deep appreciation for the person who wants to make more money to better their life and the life of their children.
They want to go to Estados Unidos (The United States) because they hear you can make $15 an hour, when many severely impoverished people make barely $5 a day.
This is the message that reaches most.
Money.
Not the danger of travel. Not the anger and hatred of those who don’t want any migrants in their country. Not the sharing of a small room with 20 strangers. And certainly not the stories of becoming indentured servants to the coyote (trafficker) who brought them under the promise of a “pay me later” scheme.
Much of what I’ve seen and heard are stories of hope. Hope to send someone in the family to the US for a good job. Hope to find provision in the “Land of opportunity,” and hope for a better life.
Some make it, some don’t. Some go, some return. Some are successful.
Some die trying.
Have a little compassion.
Because life in a hut is hard.
© 2025 Kristen Crisp — Not Even Wine With Dinner
Kristen Crisp resides in Guatemala with her husband and cat menagerie. Our mission, www.feedingfaith.org, helps impoverished and malnourished families in eastern Guatemala. Check us out for more information or to donate.
Or if you’d like to buy me a delicious Guatemalan coffee to keep me awake and alert to write more stories, click here. Every penny helps.