When I first visited the houses in Central America it was very distressing but at the same time surprisingly wonderful. Houses were made of what was available. I often saw corn stalks wired together for inner and outer walls. Frequent roofing was a hard, wavy (for drainage) plastic or metal sheeting. Covering the ceilings, there were black/brown oily wood-tar stalactites; they smelled intensely of wood smoke.
The houses were usually one room and about the size of a bedroom in a modest U.S. house. Somewhere on the floor would be an open fire surrounded by three rocks. The mother of the house spent a great deal of time by the fire; she was often carrying the youngest child, and her older children were always close by.
There was often something against the wall used to stack household and clothing items. Near the fire there was a way to stack up a few cooking utensils. In these homes, there was amazingly little of anything. If there was a decoration it was probably a religious figure. There was usually a pan or two (including something to make tortillas) and a pot or two.
The children amazed me. They had almost nothing to play with, yet they were laughing and frequently playing. The little ones were often attached to mom and if they were older, always near mom. The older ones were quite frequently playing, laughing and smiling - without a single electronic anything; they got along well and rarely complained. A community might have one soccer ball to share.
When I came back to check out a new stove, the mother was very often smiling and would tell us that she felt so much better because she could breathe.
This was a very exciting time for me and it seemed that we could really make a substantial impact on half the world's breath.
– Gerry Reicher, Volunteer and Founding Board Member, StoveTeam International
To accompany Gerry’s reflections from the beginning of StoveTeam, we would like to share our tortilla recipe from our new cookbook, “SMOKE: The Flavor of Guatemala”.
In Guatemala, tortillas aren't just a staple food; they're woven into the fabric of family and tradition. These thin, round discs made from corn are more than a Guatemalan staple—they represent connection, heritage, and the heart of the family. The process of making tortillas is an art passed down through generations, often starting in childhood.