Love the questions and live in the answers

This I Believe

2010-07-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

I believe in being idealistic. I believe that the way the world is, is not how it is supposed to be. I believe the world can change, and human beings are the ones responsible for creating change. I have been told, more than once, that I hold unattainable standards and the world will never be as good as I desire it to be. Even my Ennegram type tells me the same things. But nevertheless, I believe in holding unattainable standards. I remember clearly a poster that stretched across the chalkboard in my first grade classroom. The poster said, “Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you will land among the stars.” I am sure many first grade classrooms had the same poster, but I have thought about it many times in my life. Today, I believe in shooting past the moon.

I do not believe in being satisfied with “okay” or “a little better” when it comes to people’s lives. I believe one reason we exist on this earth is to share and live in community with other people, a community that has no borders or definitions. And part of being in community is supporting those people in your community.

What does that mean for me, a person of privilege, living in a world of inequality? It means that I have to believe in something better, something ideal, and the ideal is attainable.

This past year I have been exposed to a different world, a different way of life from what has always been my reality. I have seen and befriended people living in extreme forms of poverty. I have met people working for development and dedicating their lives to the pursuit of social justice. I have met people from all walks of life, with different backgrounds and different perspectives. And I often come away from these encounters with one prominent feeling, hope. Hope that things will be better, that things have to change.

But too often I feel overwhelmed by the problems Guatemala faces. Many days it feels like development is a distant dream that will never be recognized. The overwhelming problem is you can work trying to combat one issue, but you encounter so many more that impede your efforts in trying to solve the other. For example, domestic violence is a huge problem throughout Guatemala (and the world). Pastoral de la Mujer (where I have been working) spends a lot of time giving workshops to our women on domestic violence. We teach women about the different forms of violence, and emphasize that violence against anyone is wrong. We encourage women to be supportive of one other, especially those women who are living in violent households. We encourage women to speak out against the violence and teach their children that violence is wrong, even if they see their fathers or uncles or grandfathers abusing their wives or children.

Now this is good and necessary, but is not sufficient. In the majority of situations the women literally have no choice but to stay in their violent situation. A woman might come to our workshop and recognize she is living in a violent situation and want to leave her husband. But the woman has too many other obstacles (all development related) in her way.

1. The woman has no where safe to go. Her family and friends will not accept her back into their house for social reasons, they don’t have economic resources to support her, or both. Also, there are no shelters for women in Guatemala and the police will not protect the woman. It is commonly thought that women are the cause of the problem. If they were a better wife they would not be abused.

2. The woman has no economic means. Since she got married she has been a housewife, and has no money that is “hers.” She cannot support herself or her children and has no competitive skills to find work. Plus, there is simply no work to be found for anyone.

3. She has no education. She went to school when she was very young, but then her parents decided to pull her out so her brothers could study and had to spend her days working with her mother in the house. She is unable to read or write, thus making her even more unemployable. It is impossible for her to go back to school because she has her children and responsibilities to them.

4. She has four children. She can’t leave with her children because she has no way to support them. Men hold all the power and if she was to leave with her children, the police would come and take her children to return to her husband. So, if she wants to keep with her children, she has to stay.

5. She has no legal or government support. Sure there are laws against domestic violence and violence against women in general, but they are not enforced and most people don’t even know they exist.

6. Finally, she feels obligated to her husband and community.

Now this is just one example among many and the point is, you cannot combat one problem without facing many others that need attention too. There is no one problem more pressing than another. So yes, these issues often lead to feeling of despair and hopelessness. But I choose to stay idealistic because there is hope. There is a lot of hope in the small changes that are happening every day. I am the first to admit that we are not changing the majority of the women’s lives, but every now and then there are a few who decide to change the way they live, and change the way their daughters live.

No, the world will not change overnight, but if people, all over the world, choose to truly live in community, the world can and will change. If people of privilege, like myself, choose to live a little more simply, a little more sustainably, we can create change. I do not only believe in small changes. I also believe in government and international action that is working along with the small changes that come from people choosing to live a little more simply so that others can simply live. I believe that God walks with us and accompanies us in this world, and He set pretty idealistic goals for this world. I believe in being idealistic about what our world can and should be.

Mamálita

2010-07-09T08:04:00.000-07:00

Mamálita, or Margarita, is another incredible woman I have met here in Guatemala. She is the grandmother of Elvia and about 80 years old now.

Mamálita was born in Santa Teresa, an aldea of San Pedro, San Marcos, the same place Elvia was born. Mamálita's father never worked a day of his life, so it was left to Mamálita's mother and Mamálita, as the oldest child, to take care of the younger children. When Mamálita was 8 years old she left Santa Teresea to go and work in Xela as a domestic servant, but was essentially a slave. She never finished school (I'm not sure if she ever went to school) and cannot read or write.

Well, when Mamálita was 18 she met a man and got pregnant with Elvia's father. This man cheated on Mamálita and never married her. When Hermolindo was born Mamálita sent him to live with her mother in Santa Teresea. Mamálita continued living and working as a servant in Xela and once again got pregnant with Gloria, Elvia's aunt. I am not sure how old Mamálita was when Gloria was born, but she is only 10 years older than Elvia. Mamálita was older at this point, so Gloria always lived with Mamálita in the houses she was working in.

Mamálita was consistently mistreated by her employers, and thought of and treated as trash, not worthy of any respect. She constantly had to be working, because if she was ever caught sitting to rest for a minute, even to eat, she was chastised for being lazy and they would threaten to fire her. And Mamálita claims she often worked for nicer families that treated her better than most families would treat their servants.

Well, eventually Mamálita decided it was time for her to come back to San Marcos and find work in the capital city here (where I am living). Eventually Mamálita was able to find a job cleaning the bishop's house. She worked for the bishop before our current bishop, and worked for the current bishop until this past January. She was finally forced to "retire" because her arthritis has become so bad and has a lot of trouble using stairs. So Mamálita was "retired"in her house for about 4 months and became really depressed because she does not know what it means to not work, and to not work exceptionally hard. So about a month ago Mamálita opened her own comedor up the street from her house (which is across the street from mine). A comedor is like a small restaurant, but they generally only offer one or two plates a day and they are really cheap (Mamálita's meals cost about $1.10 and are delicious) and low key. So now Mamálita has her comedor and seems pretty content to be working again.

The lives of so many people I have met here are so different from myself, and everybody I know in the United States. My favorite thing about being in this country is being able to sit down with people and just listen to their stories, and then after understanding their stories, being able to hear their thoughts on life and the world. Mamálita is a bit more jaded about the world then Beatrice (see other post) but she is still an incredibly strong woman for whom I have a lot of respect.

Doña Beatrice

2010-07-06T15:49:00.000-07:00

I am going to tell you the story of an incredible woman named Doña Beatrice. She has lived an incredibly hard life, of which I only know a little. And yet she is still the kindest, most giving, and warm hearted person.

11 years ago my boss here first met Beatrice. She was driving a friend home that lived near the coast and the friend was going to stop in to visit the family of Beatrice. Judy decided to go in and say hi and meet the family as well. What she found was a grandmother trying to keep two twin babies alive. The father had died and Beatrice´s daughter died in childbirth. She had been keeping the babies alive on one tiny can of concentrated milk. Judy said the babies were practically skeletons and Beatrice did not have any money to buy the right type of formula, or even more milk in general. A few weeks before Judy had been sent a donation of $1000 and she had been trying to think of a worthwhile project for the money. Well she decided to to use that money to keep these twin babies alive. So they paid for formula, doctor visits, etc and today the twins are 11 years.

Well, Beatrice has not only had to keep those twin babies alive. She has constantly been supporting her various children, their various children, and their various children. Today she is pretty old (I don´t know how old exactly, I am not sure she really know either) and is still working hard. She cannot read or write, and yet she has tried hard to give her children, and especially her grandchildren, educations. She has one grandchild who has three children, and dropped out of school. Now Beatrice is trying to convince her to go back to school, to finish her education because she knows what it is like to raise countless children without an education.

When her husband died, 55 years ago, all she had was her sewing machine. She says her sewing machine is like her husband, because it has helped support her and provide for her family. This is a pedal sewing machine, but she does not want a new one for various reasons. First, this one has a lot of sentimental value, but also, electricity is hard to come by where she lives. Yes, she has electricity in her house, but most days it does not work. So if she wants to be able to work, she needs her machine without electricity.

I also want to tell you about Doña Beatrice´s daughter-in-law, Oralia. Oralia and her husband (Beatrice´s son) left one day to go to the United States. They had their coyote (the men who lead people to the desert to cross) and made it almost to the border. In the desert Oralia watched another man shoot her husband and decided to go back home to Guatemala. It took her four months to get back home, and during that time their family in Guatemala had no idea if they were alive or not. Well during her trip home Oralia was raped, and got pregnant. Oralia is also uneducated and has never had many job opportunities. One occupation many people have, especially in the coast, is collecting firewood and selling it. Well one day Oralia was out collecting firewood and was raped again, and got pregant again.

I cannot even imagine having so much tragedy in one family, in one life. And yet people are able to continue living. Beatrice understands more than anyone the value of life, the value of living, the value of family, the value of generosity, and the value of love. I think I would have become an incredibly jaded person and without hope for the world. But Doña Beatrice has hope for her family and hope for the world. She believes that the world can get better. She says she knows enough kind and generous people in the world that she has hope for humanity. And so, among the many things I have learned here, one is the value and beauty in hope.

The Luck of the Draw

2010-06-02T12:03:00.000-07:00

This past weekend Guatemala was on every news channel all over the world. One of the active volcanoes here, Pacaya, erupted and caused quite a bit of damage and covered many areas in ash. Then the tropical storm, Agatha, came and left Guatemala not only soaked, but covered in sticky ash which has clogged drains and been a nightmare for the people living in it. Where I am, in the department of San Marcos, we were not affected by the ash, but we were greatly affected by the storm.

I love rain. I have always loved rainy days and one of my most favorite things in the world is waking up to the rain pelting my window. I like walking in the rain because I know I can go home and change my wet shoes and socks. I know I can go home and drink a glass of hot tea or take a hot shower. But that is not the case for the majority of people here in San Marcos. People think I am crazy when I tell them I love the rain, but that is because it does not affect my life like it affects the life of people here. There is small town very close to where I live here in San Marcos and the fire department wanted to evacuate the people. Most of the people in the town are very poor and live in tiny wood houses. Wood houses with huge gaps in the walls and in the roof. These houses were drenched, everything inside was sopping wet. The cooking stoves were too wet to start fires, and there was not a piece of dry wood to be found anyway. These people were trying desperately to find a few tortillas to eat, because they could not cook anything, or heat their homes, or boil water to have safe drinking water. So the fire department comes in and wants to evacuate.

Where are these people supposed to go?

They don´t have money to pay for a hotel. There entire family lives in the same town, in the same conditions. There only option is to stay put, they don´t have any choice. So they will stay in their wet homes without anything to eat, and will drink dirty water to stay alive. That is the only choice they have, the choice to drink dirty water and risk getting sick, or dying.

Can you imagine that being your only choice?

So, during this storm I was sitting in the living room of Judy, my boss, with Elvia, the lady I live with. We were baking chocolate chip cookies, making bread, and eating hot soup. We were discussing how prepared we were with enough food, candles, and gas, in case another Hurricane Stan occurs, when people were out of supplies for days. Well we start watching the news and hear about all the flooding happening on the coast, how the electricity is out, bridges being swept away, and landslides. And we change to the local channel and hear about this tiny town two or three miles from where we are sitting. And someone says, it is always the poor people who suffer the worst. And I thought, it is the poor who suffer period. Here I am, baking cookies and people are fighting over tortillas. Here I am, wrapped in cozy blankets with toasty warm feet inside my Ugg boots. And here is this mother with her tiny child wrapped in a rain drenched blanket, with plastic sandals on her feet. Here I am eating hot soup, and this mother can´t start a fire to heat up some water to drink.

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the unfairness in the world. Why was I born into my life, and that mother into hers? Is it the luck of the draw? What have I ever done to deserve what I have, and what did she do to deserve not having anything? I can´t get a certain Bible passage out of my head from John 9:1-3. Jesus and his disciples encounter a man born blind from birth. The disciples ask Jesus, Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, ¨Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God´s works might be revealed in him.¨ And Jesus proceeds to cure the man.
I have to ask, what is being revealed about God´s works in the mother here in Guatemala, today? No one is magically going to cure her situation. No one is going to make her house weather tight and provide her with dry cooking wood and enough food until the rain stops. She will continue living the same way for the rest of her life, and probably her children will too. This woman did not sin, she did nothing to deserve her situation in life, and yet, there she is. With no prospects, with no choices.

So yes, I agree, it is the poor who suffer the most. But why is that so? Why do we allow that to be the truth? Why do we sit in our warm homes eating chocolate chip cookies? Why do I have that option, the choice, when others have none? Why is that the reality we live in, and why do we accept it?

Sometimes, weird things happen

2010-06-02T11:57:00.000-07:00

People here in Guatemala and in the States always ask me what I think about Guatemala. This is a hard question to answer because I have so many different experiences, many of them beautiful and others frustrating and not so beautiful. But they are all a little weird. So I feel like the most honest answer to this question is, Bueno, sometimes weird thing happen.

I was inspired to write this blog a few weeks ago when I was sitting on a caminoneta (an old US school bus) holding a live turkey on my lap. My turkey? Of course not. At this point I realized, sometimes, weird things happen to me in this country. But what is even weirder is, I have become accustomed to these weird things and hardly think twice about them.

What types of weird things happen? Well, let´s see…

I will start with the story that prompted me to write this blog. The camionetas also have a nickname, the chicken bus. They have this name because people enter the buses carrying live chickens, roosters, and turkeys all the time. Generally this happens more in the rural communities, but it happens all over the country. The other day I was coming home from Xela, the second largest city in the country, from my language class. Occasionally I see animals on this bus, but not frequently. Mostly I see animals when I am traveling to a community to give a workshop. Well the bus was very full, three people on each seat and the center aisle crowded. An older lady gets on the bus with her turkey in her arms with a leash around its neck. She finds herself standing next to me (I was the third person in the seat) and is having trouble keeping her balance as the chicken bus whips dangerously around the curves. Well she is trying to hold her turkey and keep her balance and I am impressed that she has not completely fallen over. Well she turns and looks at me (the only white person on the bus) and says, ¨here, hold my turkey.¨ My reaction? Bueno, Of course I will hold your turkey! Well, I am sitting on the bouncing bus trying to stay in the seat myself and staring at turkey in the face, hoping he won´t bite me, and I decided that this was weird. And I started to think of all the weird things that happen to me on a regular basis.

Some of my best stories are on the caminetas. People often play with my hair on the bus, especially if it is down or in a braid. Old, young, male, female – everyone likes to touch my hair. I´m not sure if they think I can´t feel it, or just don´t care. But really, I can´t blame people for this, my hair does have magical powers.

When buses are stopped people come onto the bus selling everything from gum, water, soda, pizza, chicken, coffee, icecream, medicine, herbal medicines, pens, to water that will cure cancer. You can buy it all and never move from your seat. Generally the sellers move through the aisles advertising what they are selling, but every now and again I get a seller that decides to harass me. Here buy this icecream. No thanks. It is really good. I don´t want it. Why don´t you want it? I´m allergic. Here buy this gum in a crinkled wrapper that has been in my pocket for who knows how long. I don´t like gum. Do you want to buy my hat? Bueno, I´m allergic to hats too, but thanks. And only after the seller moves on to the next person do I realize how weird the conversation was.

Hey, Mom, don´t read this part.

Then other weird things happen that are slightly more dangerous. The other weekend I went on a trip to Cobán and El Quiché, two departments in the northern part of Guatemala. My driver was driving like a maniac up a dirt road and I finally asked, ¨Pedro, why are you driving like a bat out of hell?¨ ¨Remember that car we hit back there?¨he answers (yes because that was weird too). Well, in this part of the country people will chase after you with guns and shoot you dead. Bueno, I would prefer to return home alive. Another time I was traveling on another dirt road in the middle of the night (really not very smart, but sometimes I get stuck in situations without any other choice) and we had to stop. We had to stop because there was a huge truck in front of us full of boulders. Well, this truck was too heavy to make it up part of the mountain. What is the logical conclusion to this problem? That trucks full of boulders should not drive on this dirt road that is impossible for most pickup trucks with four wheel drive? Of course not! The logical conclusion is everyone that is waiting behind the truck and waiting on the other side of the ¨road¨ should pull the truck up the mountain. Yes, about 20 men tie a rope to the truck and pulled it up the mountain.

But really, I like the weird things that happen. I don´t even know the name of the old lady with the turkey, but I will remember her for the rest of my life, and her turkey (that never bit me). I like the excitement of waking up every day and having no idea what is going to happen. Sometimes I wonder what type of culture shock I will have once I get back to the states and everything is orderly and without chaos. Because right now walking 4 blocks to my office can be an adventure, or just an ordinary day at the office, but I never know. I never know when, but sometimes, weird things happen.

La justicia, sí es possible

2010-06-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

I had the opportunity to participate in two marches for the martyr, Bishop Juan Gerardi. Juan Gerardi is a hero in Guatemala, and a hero in my heart. I need to give you a small amount of information on the life of Juan Gerardi, so this post might be a little long.

On May 9, 1967, he was elected Bishop of Verapaz, where he emphasized pastoral work among indigenous communities and in 1974, he was appointed Bishop of Quiché. Between 1980 and 1983 El Quiché saw increased levels of violence in the conflict between the Army and various rebel guerrilla factions. The worst violence and human rights abuses were seen in the department of El Quiché. Hundreds of Roman Catholic catechists and heads of Christian communities, most of who were of Maya origin, were brutally murdered. Gerardi was highly outspoken against the military and demanded that they stop the violence against his catechists and the population of Quiché and Guatemala in general.

In 1980 Geradi closed the diocese of El Quiché, making a very public statement to the world about the violence occurring there. He left the country for the Vatican, was denied re-entry into the country, and was exiled to El Salvador and Costa Rica until 1982. In 1984 he was appointed bishop of the department of Guatemala (which is the equivalent to a state, like Verapaz and El Quiché). While working in the department of Guatemala Gerardi became involved in the creation, and became the head of the Office of Human of Rights of the Archbishopric (ODHAG), which is still active in the assistance of victims of human rights violations today.

After the 1994 Oslo Agreement (an essential peace agreement during the war that preceded the 1996 Peace Accords) ODHAG began the creation of the Recovery of the Historical Memory, or REMHI project, to discover and present the truth of the 36 year civil war. The actual REMHI report is huge, but it essentially looks at the impact the violence had on Guatemala. It looks at how the violence was carried out and includes thousands of testimonies of witnesses and victims of the war. The report looks at the violence carried out by both the army and the guerillas, but in the end it places the blame for 89.7 percent of the violence to the government and 4.8 percent to the guerillas. The UN sponsored Historical Clarification Commission, which came out after the REMHI report, actually places 93 percent of the atrocities to the government and only 3 percent to the guerillas. The report discusses the historical context of the war, providing a through description on why the war started and where its roots were, following the various military governments up to the Peace Accords. The REMHI report also focuses on social reconstruction and how Guatemala can repair the damage of the war and preserve the historical memory of the war.

On April 24, 1998, the REMHI report was published, to the obvious dislike of the government and army. Two days later, on April 26, Gerardi was brutally assassinated in his garage by three army officers. It was not until 2001 and after a long and tumulus fight, that the officers were convicted of his murder. This was an important achievement for Guatemala, because it was the first time members of the military had faced trial before civilian courts

Every year the anniversary of Gerardi’s death is celebrated, and this year marked the 12 anniversary. Here in San Marcos we celebrated the anniversary on the 17^th of April, with a large march and mass afterwards. It was beautiful to see so many people come from all of the aldeas all over San Marcos, I even saw many of the women we work with from various communities. Our march was during the day and had a somber feel to it, there was music playing, but people were not singing nor chanting. I had to leave during the mass for a YAV retreat, but I was glad have been in solidarity with the Guatemalans for the march. It is about remembering the life and death of Gerardi, and remembering that his desires and dreams for Guatemala can be achieved. The quote that accompanies Gerardi is,”” La justicia, sí es possible,” or “The justice, yes is possible.”

Bettina, another YAV, and I then went to Guatemala City for the real anniversary and march of Juan Gerardi. We arrived in the city in the morning and went to the parish house where Gerardi was killed. We went into the garage and saw the beautiful mural that has been painted in there in remembrance of his life and work, but also in remembrance of the war.

The mural is huge, covering three walls, and I took a lot of pictures of it, but I can’t post all of them here. We then went to the crypt of Gerardi behind the huge Cathedral in the Central Park of Guatemala City. The Mass took place at 5pm, and the Cathedral was packed, and the march was after. More people participated in the march in San Marcos, but it is dangerous to be out at night in Guatemala. During this march people were chanting and even though there was a small amount of people, there was plenty of energy. Bettina and I were laughing because the woman who was in charge of leading the chants was not very good, so a group of young men took over and they were competing with the woman on what chants they would use. The young men were obviously better and engaged the crowd more, but the woman did not want to give up her loudspeaker and it was pretty funny. The march ended in the park in front of the parish house, and people sang and gave speeches. They talked about how we have to continue fighting for the justice, and against the impunity here in Guatemala. Yes, it is a hard a long fight, but we have to be courageous and not give up hope.

Gerardi is a person that I have come to admire more and more during my time here in Guatemala. I have learned a lot more about his life, and I have read a lot more of his speeches and writings. Gerardi was firmly committed to the idea that the church is called to be involved in political and economic issues; the church is not confined to the space of spiritual ministries. Gerardi claimed that the church has the responsibility to protect the dignity of the human being, because the human being is at the center of the gospel. Gerardi saw the REMHI report as an announcement aimed at finding new ways for humans to live together. But it is also a theological piece that ¨works in the light of faith to discover the face of God, the presence of the Lord.¨(Gerardi´s speech during the presentation of the REMHI Report). Gerardi was committed to the truth because we can´t have peace without truth, so truth should be the goal of all of humanity. When we are truly truthful with ourselves and others we are forced to recognize our own responsibility in the happenings of the world, and then we have the responsibility to act. Because we can´t have truth without action.

Gerardi was a man of incredible wisdom, and I believe that wisdom came from deep faith and beautiful understanding of the gospel. Gerardi´s life was constantly in danger during the entirety of his ministry, but he never let fear stop him. He knew it is not easy to be a disciple of Jesus, but we are called to work for the reign of God at all costs, especially when it means putting our lives in danger, because that is were the justice is needed the most. We all admire martyrs, but who actually wants to be one? It is hard to have enough confidence and trust in your faith to allow yourself to put your fears aside. I would like to be at the place someday in my life, but right now I can only admire Gerardi and try to mirror some of his actions and philosophies. Right now I can listen to his call for truth and the direct and indirect responsibilities I carry, and how I should act them out. He is a man that still can teach the world so much about justice and peace, because he is certainly still teaching the people of Guatemala, which can be seen every year in the anniversary of his death.

Prayer

2010-05-10T10:27:00.000-07:00

Prayer is something I have often struggled with. It is difficult for me to take time, everyday, to sit down and pray. I often find myself talking to, or thinking about God, but I don´t often pray. I don´t like praying out loud in groups. In fact sometimes I feel weird just praying in groups. I do not know where this phobia came from, nor can I precisely describe why it is I don´t like to pray. It has nothing to do with faith. I think it stems more from bad experiences with fundamentalist Christians.

One of my goals for this year has been to get over my phobia of praying. Praying is not speaking in tongues, who can pray the longest or sound the most sincere. Prayer is not really even about what is being said. It is about setting aside the time just to be with God. Prayer allows us to further understand God inside of each of us, and when we can see God inside ourselves it is easier to see God around us, in the good and the bad. If we don´t recognize where God is in our hearts, we are unable to find God in our everyday lives. I am finding that prayer allows me to give up my own preoccupations.

It is easy for me to feel sorry for myself sometimes and obsess about unimportant things. Poor me, I think, I don´t have this luxury or that luxury. Poor me, this part of my life is so difficult. Now don´t get me wrong, some things in my life are very difficult. Often we don´t have water in our apartment. The water se fue, it went, as people like to tell me. Where? Saber. Who knows. People only like to shop on market days when the food is cheaper. So, if Elvia and I did not wake up at 5 am to go to the Thursday morning market, we don´t have much food for a week. No, I don´t go hungry, but I don´t have many food options. So yes, aspects of my life are harder here then they ever were in the United States, but when I pray I can recognize that I worry about trivial things. No, I do not have to bathe every day, I don´t even have to bathe every other day. I eat the food that is there, I don´t need more.

I also think prayer is difficult for me because I hate giving up control. I have always been a highly independent person and do not like to rely on others for anything. When we pray we are giving our pains, joys, and frustrations to the Lord. We are giving up control and allowing the Lord to lead us. I hate being led, but sometimes we have to allow ourselves to be led to the place we do not want to go. We are forced to recognize our weaknesses and stop trying to control everything in our lives.

I am learning to pray from Guatemalans. When we go into communities the opening and closing prayer is often the most important part of the workshop. My experiences of group prayer has always been polite, when one person is praying you listen. Well here when one person starts to pray, everyone starts to pray, out loud. Some are praying in Spanish, some in Mam, and then there is me, praying in English. People pray with sincerity, they are truly taking all their concerns to the Lord in prayer. Most people pray for things I have never worried about in my life. They pray for food for tomorrow. They pray that their children can stay in school. They pray for a good harvest. They pray for life. People here pray to God in the midst of constant suffering, and yet they have so much joy in their faith. They choose to continue loving the Lord.

Henry Nouwen, who I have cited before (and one of my new favorite religious thinkers) writes a lot about prayer and has helped me in thinking about prayer in new ways. He says that prayer is the way to understanding the heart of God - a heart of justice peace, and righteousness - and the heart of the world. In Guatemala it is easy for me to see the connection between suffering and faith. There is so much suffering and terror in our world, and while prayer is by no means the only option, we have to work in other concrete ways too. But, like Nouwen says, when we pray we allow our heart to become the place where the tears of God and the tears of God´s children become tears of hope, because we are connected through Jesus Christ. He says, “In its pure form, prayer is the divine breath of those whom the world tries to suffocate with terror. Prayer is the martyrdom of those who live.” (Love in a Fearful Land: A Guatemalan Story). Prayer gives us the hope we need to continue the fight for justice, for the reign of God here on earth.

Holy Week

2010-04-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

Not many people get the opportunity to spend Holy Week in Antigua, Guatemala. My boss, Judy, compared Holy Week in Antigua to having tickets to the Super Bowl in the United States. I'm not sure it is the closest comparison, but fairly accurate. Basically, everyone from around the world and in Guatemala make their reservations to spend Holy Week in Antigua. It is funny, because this is the first time I have been in Antigua where there are more Guatemalans than gringos. Well, maybe that is an exaggeration, but not completely far off.

Wednesday I put my parents in a taxi for the airport and met another YAV, Emily, and her friend Laurel from college. Later that day another YAV, Bettina, and her friend from college, Shannon joined us. We have spent the last few days exploring Antigua and watching the countless processions that pass by.

Processions generally start on Thursday, with the biggest processions on Friday. The Thursday and Friday morning processions begin with people dressed as Romans carrying different banners and some are on horseback. They are followed by hundreds and hundreds of men dressed in purple robes, signifying the Jewish people. Then more men dressed in purple robes come out sprinkling incense, making the way for Jesus. They are followed by these huge wooden platforms that 50 to 100 people will carry, which is similar to a float in the States. On top of the platforms will be icons of Jesus, generally carry the cross, and might have Peter or another icon included. They are decorated with flowers and are intricately carved
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Well, these platforms weigh a ton, but it is considered an honor to be able to carry the platform, it serves as a type of penance. These processions go on for 11+ hours, but the people change out throughout the procession. After Jesus (although sometimes before) is generally the Virgin Mary, or Santa Maria, and disciples, I even saw one Pope. The processions are followed by crowds of people who follow them all day long. Then there are vendors selling balloons and all types of goodies, feeling a little like the 4th of July. The are followed by the Cleaning Trains, which clean up the debris and trampled carpets.

The carpets, or alfombras, are these intricately and loving made carpets that grace the processions. Store owners or home owners that know a procession is going to pass by their house make these beautiful alfombras and the middle of the street. Some are made out of pine needles, flowers, fruits, or whatever people choose to include. My favorites are made out of sawdust and ground flower petals which provide the colors to the sawdust.

People have stencils that they use the create beautiful and elborate designs in these brightly colored carpets. People spend hours creating these works of arts, which are then trampled by the processions. At least the beginning people stay off the carpets until the platform with Jesus passes by.
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Friday morning, at 4 o'clock in the morning, the first Good Friday procession began, and passed by our hostel around 4:30 in the morning. I got myself out of bed to go and watch this procession, and it was by far my favorite. It was still dark outside, chilly, and slighly eerie. Generally the processions are really nosiy, but most people were still quiet, just watching the procession. Everything felt more solemn, and holy. With all the excitement of everything it is easy to forget that these are very religious ceremonies. Often I don't know what to do with Holy Week, I don't like the blood and guts of it, and I also don't believe in a literal resurrection of Jesus. I have trouble knowing how I feel about the death, and how to reconcile some of my conflicting beliefs. I don't like that Christians often focus on Jesus' death more than his life, when I believe his life was infinatly more important. But this procession, early in the morning, felt powerful and special to me. I am not sure what part of it struck me, but it was a feeling I will remember forever.

The rest of Good Friday was a chaotic mess. There were so many processions happening it was impossible to walk around without running into some procession or roadblock. Emily, Laurel, and I decided to leave the city for a minute to go to a musem in Jocotenago, a smaller town 15 minutes outside of Antigua. Well we get there just to realize it is closed for Good Friday, which we never even though about. So we ate peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches in the park, ate some mangos, and got back on the bus to go back to Antigua. Even though we could not see the museum, it was a nice field trip away from the craziness of Antigua for a little while.

Is it really April?

2010-04-01T11:33:00.000-07:00

I can't believe the month of March is over already. The past 6 weeks or so have gone by so quickly, and I only have 4 months left of my placement and 3 more weeks of language school after that.

The last week of Februrary all the YAVs had to leave the country due to visa issues. Basically, we are allowed to be in the country for 6 months before we have to leave for 3 days, or pay a fine for every day we stay over. So we had to go to Belize. Bummer, right? First, after 14 hours in a bus, we stopped in Tikal and visited the ruins there. I love ancient ruins, but I like to do them my way. I like to walk around and see them all, but mostly I like to find a quiet spot to park it. I like to watch the other people visiting, but mostly I like to just be. There is something about being in a place so old and magnificent, just imagining life then, and appreciating the sophistication of the Mayan culture. It was actually in a Mayan ruin where I decided I wanted to do my YAV year in Guatemala. Belize was a nice vacation where we saw manatees! One of the other YAVs believes she will be a manatee in her second life, so that was very exciting for her, but a slight disappointment that we were not allowed to swim with them.

About week after that trip I got to spend 10 days traveling with the Queens University group that came for Spring Break. That was very special for me, since I was first introduced to Guatemala through that exact trip. It was wonderful to see old friends, and make new ones. It was wonderful to see the country through their eyes, people who had never experienced these things before, where everything was new and fresh. It was funny to realize the things that have become so natural to me, but where big changes at first. I also got to try translating for the first time, which was really hard! Just listening is so much easier, but when i have to think about translating it makes everything much more difficult. But it was a good experience and I learned a lot. I was also sad to say good-bye to everyone, but I knew the month would continue to be full.

Then my parents arrived the last week of March and we spent a week traveling around. First we went to the coast because my dad had to check out the fishing in Guatemala, of course. No trip is complete without some type of fishing excursion. Usually I get out of the deep sea fishing, so that was my first experience. I actually got pretty motion sick, and I was surprised. My motion sickness has been better since I came to Guatemala, or really I have just learned to deal with it. I think the combination of being in the hot sun and out on the water was too much for me. I live in the cold mountains and am not accustomed to extreme heat anymore! Then I took my parents up into the mountains, where my Dad kept commenting on how extreme the change in weather is. I guess he never believed me when I told him it is COLD where I live, although right now it is the warmest part of the year. My mom and dad met Elvia, and all of her family that lives in San Marcos. I was really nervous about this part, I was not sure how it would pan out, but Guatemalan hospitality won out. My parents had a wonderful, and I think my Guatemalan family enjoyed meeting my parents. Then we went to Antigua for the last few days and beginning of Holy Week. Generally Holy Week activities don't start until Thursday, and my parents were leaving Wednesday morning. But we lucked out because Monday night when we arrived at our hotel they were making their traditional Holy Week carpets right outside for a procession that was going to pass by in a half hour. So my parents got a small taste of what Holy Week is like, so that was nice.

Right now I am in Antigua, where I spent Holy Week with two other YAVs and their two friends. I will make another post just on my Holy Week experiences.

Pastoral de la Mujer

2010-03-16T15:06:00.000-07:00

I realized that I have not blogged about Pastoral de la Mujer and what exactly we do. Pastoral de la Mujer translates as Ministry of the Women, which is a program of the Catholic Church. The objective of Pastoral de la Mujer is to instill self-confidence and values into women. To help them recognize their own worth, and to realize that men and women are all equal. There are 3 women, plus myself who work in the main office in San Marcos. There is Elvia, Eluvia, the coordinator, Judy or Judith, who is a Maryknoll nun from the States, an intern called Veronica, and me. Then we have two members of our team that work solely with our scholarship program in Tajumulco. There is Sister Carmen, and Guatemalan nun who is also a teacher in the high school, and Willhem. Then there is another team who works with all the communities on the Pacific Coast.

We work within each parochial in San Marcos, and within each parochial there are multiple communities. Every month, or every other month, we visit each parochial to give a workshop, and the women travel to the central parochial house or central church. Many of these women walk for up to 5 hours to come to the workshops. I think they like them, but they have also mentioned the workshop is their ¨vacation¨ for the month. The workshops vary depending on the community and their needs and wants. When we enter new communities, or groups we have not worked with much, we give very basic workshops that also allow us to learn about the lives of the women. We talk a lot about domestic violence and the distribution of chores and work around the house. We also give workshops on the rights of women and try to improve the women´s self images and boost their confidence. In reality, many women do not have self-confidence and have never been told that they have value. In the beginning we work on really basic things, and as the community grows and develops we develop our workshops. Often the parochial or the women ask us to give certain workshops, like herbal medicines, environmental issues, and health in general. We also talk a lot about education and the importance of educating ourselves and our children. We also try to tell the women that changes begin with them, and they must pass confidence and feelings of value on to their daughters.

Then we have our Tajumulco scholarship program, which is funded by a single family in the United States through Catholic Relief Services. We have about 120 scholarship recipients in 4 communities in Tajumulco, and are about to add 2 additional communities. Families can only have one scholarship recipient, but there are a few families with two. I am not sure why they were allowed. Then the parents of the recipients have to study too, completing 6 primeria, which is essentially 5th grade or elementary school. If the parent has already graduated from 6 primeria, they have to bring us a copy of their graduation certificate. The way the parents study is slightly complicated. Some study through a radio program called IGER (which I am still confused about how IGER works) but each grade decides on a weekly meeting time and another nun, Sister Doma, works with the IGER students. Then there is a scholarship recipient assigned to each grade, and they also teach the classes.

Pastoral de la Mujer, here in San Marcos, tends to be more progressive than many organizations working for women´s rights, especially in the religious sector. I personally attribute this to two reasons. One, or coordinator and founder is an American who was raised in a more progressive culture and was educated in the States. I don´t mean to say that Americans are more able to be progressive, but there is something to be said for being raised in a culture where you are told you are valuable, and the educational system is just better in the States. Then the second, and more important reason, is the Bishop of San Marcos, Alvaro Ramizzini. Monteseñor is the most progressive Bishop in all of Guatemala, the most radical and outspoken, and fights the hardest for justice. Having his full support is a tremendous asset to our work throughout the diocese.

Thoughts on Accompaniment

2010-03-16T15:03:00.000-07:00

First, I want to apologize to everyone for not staying in better contact. It is easy to get caught up in my life here and forget about the importance of informing everyone back home what I am doing. I do try to update my blog more often than I send out emails, but I am not always successful at that either. I have also tried sending postcards home, but I only know of one that found its destination (although I always receive my mail). I want to thank everyone for all your support this year, despite my lack of communication.

The past six months have been a whirlwind of activity. When I think back to September, when I arrived, it feels like ages ago, but when I think I have already been here for six months, I realize how quickly the time has passed. As most of you know, I have been working with Pastoral de la Mujer in the Catholic diocese here in San Marcos. Our main objective is simply to empower women and help them realize their value and potential as women, and as human beings. We stress the equality of men and women, in all aspects of life and work. We do this by working in every parish in the department of San Marcos (which is like a state) through workshops with the women. We also have an education program in order to instill values and self-confidence into young women, and men.

Sometimes, it is hard not to get frustrated and discouraged while doing a longer term mission. I often get overwhelmed with the needs I see everyday. The needs are so large, and Pastoral de la Mujer hardly makes a dent in fixing the problems facing women everyday. Then my impact in that chip is even smaller. I see countless other problems in the country, that I don´t even begin to touch. And I feel confused about my purpose, about my role here in Guatemala. Sometimes I fear I am becoming immune to the injustice and pain that surrounds me everyday. I no longer recognize that there is trash on the ground around me, I don´t think twice about stepping over someone passed out on the sidewalk. I am used to hearing stories of people with no jobs, no money, and little prospects. I came here because I wanted to understand the situation of Guatemalans better, I wanted to walk in solidarity with the marginalized, because that is what God calls us to do. Yet some days I can´t help but think I could be doing this better.

But doing this better is not the point of my year in accompaniment. The point is to allow myself to be here. I should allow myself to live completely in the moment everyday, enjoying the presence of others and the presence of God. In reality, all I can do is receive, which Henry Nouwen taught me in his book, Gracias. When I receive with an open heart, I can allow others to becomes aware of their gifts. The role of missionaries is not to ¨save¨ someone else, or build churches and schools, but to allow others to recognize the gifts that God has given them, and allow them to claim the good news of the gospel for themselves. A missionary must work with gratitude in order to receive the gifts of those we are serving, and allow them to feel apart of a community, not as an object of someone else´s generosity.

I also find I am more dependent here on others than I ever have been in my life. Even when I was little I was very independent, and that independence grown drastically over the years. Here I rely on people to to explain cultural and language differences to me in detail. I rely on people to be patient with my as I slowly speak Spanish, probably full of grammatical mistakes. I rely on the woman I live with to buy my food and pay my bills. I rely on people to take care of me, which is difficult and humbling at the same time.

While I sometimes feel that I am just hanging out here in Guatemala, I remember God sent each of us to live in this world, and God sent us here to live and work together in community. Sometimes I feel isolated and alone, but other times I feel surrounded by the love and generosity of both Guatemalans and those of you in the States.

So when I feel overwhelmed by my inability to make change, I have to remember that true giving is not in the giving of gifts, but the giving of self, which is immensely more difficult. As a very wise man told me a few days ago, I can not change Guatemala in a week, month, or even a year, but I can allow Guatemala to change me.

Paz y Amor,
Whitney

Our World

2010-01-15T12:44:00.000-08:00

This week I spent three days in Tajumulco, and incredibly poor municipal of San Marcos. Tajumulco is one of the poorest municipals in San Marcos, but is an incredibly interesting place.

Pastoral de la Mujer recently started a new scholorship program in Tajumulco. We give scholorships to certain young students, male and female, to continue studying until they finish their version of high school. At the same time we work with older women who have either never studied, or never finished their básico studies. I would básico is the equivalent of our middle school. The women of each community meet every 15 days for a class, but also work with an educational radio program in Guatemala called, IGER.

The Guatemlan school year runs from January until November, so we were in Tajumulco signing new contracts with all the scholarship recipients. Tajumulco is an incredibly underdeveloped municipal, there is not a single paved road in the entire municipal, and many of the communities are unreachable by either car or motorcycle. On Tuesday I went with one of the padres of Tajumulco to a tiny community. We had walk for one and a half hours to the community where the padre would give a special mass in honor of Isquipulas, the namesake of the community. The walk was incredibly beautiful, down the side of a mountain, to cross a ravine, to walk up the other side of ravine. Tajumulco is as green as can be, and one of the few places in Guatemala with an abundant water supply.

While right now Tajumulco looks like a paradise, I also know it is being affected by climate change, and the people of Tajumulco are being affected, and will continue to be affected in the future. Already the people see changes in the weather patters, in the rainy and dry seasons, in the dying vegetation due to pollution, and the affect this has on their crops. The people of Tajumulco are subsistence farmers, who try to supplement their incomes by picking coffee. Tradionally they have grown enough to survive for a year, but with changing weather patterns their crops are not growing appropriately. Then there is the water supply. Tradionally people have been able to drink from the rivers, without any problems. With our contaminated air, and the contamination of the soil, the water is not longer safe to drink, but people don´t have the infrastructure, or resources to change how they get their water. So they are left with unsafe water that they can boil and hope will not make them sick. With failing crops they are forced to pick more coffee, in incredibly dangerous situations. Tajumulco is a mountainous region, on the side of the largest volcano in Central America. So the coffee is grown on the sides of mountains, contributing to environmental degregation. The people tie themselves up to a tree and use ropes to climb down the sides of the moutains to pick hundreds of pounds of coffee they have strapped to their waists. So many people die every year trying to survive because they are no longer able to grow enough to survive. While the poverty of Tajumulco is not soley due to environmental degregation, the situation is much more complicated, it is a huge contributuing factor.

Here, I am seeing first hand the devestating effects of climate change or global warming. I don´t care what you want to call it, but we are responsible for our world, and the effects it has on everybody. In developed nations we don´t see the everyday effects, and it is easy to ignore. Sometimes we don´t recycle our plastic bottle because the trash can is right there, and we don´t want to carry the bottle around until we find a place to recycle it. We don´t buy recycled products. We waste gallons and gallons of water everyday. We buy prepackaged products because they are easier. When we have a party we use paper and plastic products because we don´t want to deal with the clean up. We want our lives to be simpler, but by making our lives simpler we are complicating the lives of others.

We can close our eyes and tell ourselves it is not as bad as everyone is saying. We can tell ourselves there is still more time. In reality we are out of time. The changes have come, and people are dying. People are dying because of our irresponsiblity. I am not trying to offend anyone, I am guilty of not being environmentally responsible also. But I also recognize the dire need to change our habits, and I am seeing the effects climate change is having on the most vulunerable population of the world. I also know there are other communities around the world that are more affected than Tajumulco. And no longer can I close my eyes to what we are doing to our world, and no longer can I be silent.

And so, for my friends in Tajumulco, for everyone in the world, I am begging everyone who reads this blog to make an effort to change too. Maybe you do try to be environmentally responsbile, but I am also sure there is more you can do. And you can also encourage others to change

Christmas and New Years

2010-01-03T11:02:00.000-08:00

Luckily, I did not find myself as homesick as I would have expected for Christmas. The build up and craze of Christmas is much less here, so when Christmas arrived I was a little surprised. While talking with my host sister in law, I realized while the traditions are different and everything feels very different, the basis of Christmas is exactly the same. We get togther with family and loved ones, eat special foods, and some families exchange gifts, although it is more common to only give presents to small children.

Here Christmas Eve is a much bigger deal than Christmas. I spent the afternoon with Elvia´s parents in Santa Teresea. We ate the traditional tamales, which tasted good at first, but now I am so sick of them, and I think one literally made me sick on New Year´s Day. Then we all sunbathed ontop of the corn that was drying on the patio and I wish I had rememebered my camera. I apologize that I am really bad about taking pictures here, and find myself unable to post them on my blog anyway. The corn was suprisingly comfortable for corn. Then we went into the living room where they had there tree and all the children got really excited showing me each plastic animal they had displayed under the tree. There were 5 children, and each one showed me each animal, I think I got some of my animal names down now. Elvia came in and was concerned that her parents had covered over half a window with concrete blocks. Her mom said it was too big, which I found strange. I don´t think the blocks make the room any warmer, but maybe they do. Then Elvia said next year she would bring them her fake tree, because they had this pine bush they had cut down. Then her mom said she thinks real is better, and I agree. Then we all danced a bit and ate marshmallows. I have never liked marshmallows before, not alone at least. But here we eat them all the time, and sometimes I almost find myself craving them. It is weird.

Then we went back home and spent the evening with Gloria, the aunt who lives across the street. There were a ton of people coming in and out all evening but it was a fun night. They kept making me drink tequila becuase I had a cold and they told me it would quit my cold. It does not work, just so you know. Karla, who is married to Elvia´s cousin Victor, told me I had to wear a dress, so I wore a long skirt and I was the only person not in pants, besides Elvira who wears corte.

The children opened their presents around 11, and then at 12 everyone exchanges hugs and Elvia said a little prayer and talked about Christmas Eve and the birth of Jesus. Then they pulled out three dolls, signifying the three children in the house that night and we all kissed the dolls heads to bless the children. I don´t know why we could not kiss the real kids heads and bless them directly, but it was a new tradition I got to experience. Then we ate tamales and drank more tequila. Then Leonardo, another cousin, asked me if I wanted to go climb Tacana Volcano with him and his friend Pollo (Chicken) at 2 in the morning. I said no, but we made plans to go the 26, which endede up not happening, but hopefully we will do it another time.

Christmas Day I went to the coast with Judy, the American Marynoll nun who is the director of Pastoral, and spent the day with all the Catholic nuns and priests from the department of San Marcos. It was fun because it was a mix of English and Spanish, with everyone going in and out of both languages. At first I felt like I should spend the day with Elvia, even though she just sleeps mostly, but then I realized that Judy and nuns and priests are a big part of my family here too. I hang out with them a lot and love them too. So I was glad I went and met some new people too. Then we went home around 5 and I spent the evening with Elvia, her sister, Terry, nephew, Josedavit, and her parents, Witcha and Enrique, who al stayed the night in our tiny apartment.

Emily, another YAV, and I went to the beach for three days after Christmas. We get to this tiny island called Tilapa, and there is only one hotel, and it is bare bones. There is a bathroom, but there is no door, two beds, but one was a real mattress and the other a straw mattress, so Emily and I shared a bed. There were no towels provided, so we had to air dry after showers. Luckily it was really warm there! At first we though we would leave after one day, but then we really liked the tranquility of the place. There are beautiful mangrove forests around the island and we took a boat tour around with our new Italian friend. We did not see as many animals as I would have liked, but the mangrove forest was beautiful enough and our ¨guide¨ was very friendly and I think excited we all spoke enough Spanish to converse with him and ask questions. Our Italian friend was very interesting. He has traveled all over the world and lived in Tanzania for 7 years and studied in India. He has had a very interesting life and we spent a lot of time talking with him. We also met a couple from Poland, who left right away, two sisters from France who drink and smoke a lot, and a hippie family from Canada. I don´t usually talk to other travelers in hotels, but it was the type of place where it would be weird not to talk to the other people, and I really enjoyed myself. then we went home on the 31 and I spent New Years with emily´s family, which is a fairly traditional Quiche family.

Emily´s family oftne asks her to wear corte on special occasions, so both Emily and I were dressed in corte to go to Betty´s (Emily´s host mother)mother in law´s house for New Years eve. We set off fireworks and then ate at 1 in the morning. I don´t really like eating late, but it is a common theme in Guatemala. We spent the night there and the next morning we served tamales for breakfast, which is the one I think made me sick. I ended up being stuck in Cantel, a pueblo outside of Xela were Emily lives, because there were no buses running to take me home. We spent the 1st day at Betty´s mom´s house, Carmelina. Carmelina works with La Fraternidad, Emily´s placement, and I stayed with Carmelina last March for one night while visiting with my University for a week. It was fun because they remembered me and pulled out the polaroid picutre of us and I could actually communicate with them this time and we talked about my work with Pastoral de la Mujer.

I finally made it back to San Marcos on the second because Judy was in Xela for a meeting, so I was able to catch a ride back with her, although the buses were running too, but all of them were incredibly full. I am glad to be back and home and plan to rest for a few days before we head back to work.

Merry Chrismas and a Happy New Year!

A Day in my LIfe...for now.

2009-12-08T14:45:00.000-08:00

People often ask me what a typical day is like for me here, and the answer really is, I don´t have typical days. Every day ends up being quite different, and office days are different from community days. But I will try to give you an idea of an idea of each.

Office Day:
An office day starts around 5:13 am when I wake up to go to the bathroom. Seriously, I feel like an old woman with my bladder here. Every single morning I wake up really early because I have to pee. I try to stop drinking any liquids earlier in the evening, but I still have to pee. After that I wake up at 7 am and then there are a variety of factors that decide if I will shower.
First, and most importnatly, how cold it is. I have hot water, but sometimes I can´t face getting into the shower and getting out.
Second, how dirty I feel. If I don´t feel dirty and I can throw my hair up in a scarf, I´m not showering.
Third, if there is water. Often, we just don´t have water.

Then I wander into the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast. Sometimes Elvia is making something, sometimes not. Sometimes I make something for both of us and sometimes I just eat some fruit and a bowl of ceral. Then around 8 Elvia and I head for the office. Well leaving at 8 is an ideal time, but really our time flucates from day to day. On my birthday we did not leave until 11 and often we are closer to 9 leaving. We go to the office and sometimes they give me something to do, and sometimes I just sit around. I like running errands, but they don´t send me very often because I get lost a lot and take a while getting back. Around 11 is snack time were we drink tea and eat a snack. Snack time lasts for a long time because various people come in and out and we drink more tea and have another snack with them. Around 1 we go home for lunch. Usually Elvia and I eat with her sister Terri and Terri´s little boy, Josedavit, and sometimes Terri´s husband when he is not working. Really lunch is from 1 to 2, but usually we don´t go back to office until closer to 3.

Back at the office I usually have less to do, and if Elvia is gone or Eluvia, I have internet time, like right now. Then between 5 and 6, usually closer to 6, we leave the office. Once home I generally read some, or sometimes watch TV. Depending on how big lunch was, we might or might not have dinner. Dinner might be left over lunch, or eggs, or some bread and tea. That is usually around 8 pm. Then between 9 and 10, I go to bed.

Most days there os something else that is happening, a birthday party, graduation, market, or I go somewhere with some nun. I often find myself going to random places with nuns, and I don´t always know where I am going, or why exactly. Usually I am taken along so I can meet new people or see a new place.

Community Vist Day:

Community days are more difficult to give an average idea because they vary so much. The first varying factor is if we are traveling in caminotea, or car. Generally we travel in caminotea, which means we wake up at 5 to catch a 5:30 or 6 am bus to wherever we are going. We generally travel for 2 to 4 hours. In the communities we give workshops, which vary. Every month we try to hold a workshop with each parish. Many of these women walk for 1 to 6 hours to come to our workshop. Many of them say the workshops are their ¨vacations¨. We do a lot on the different types of violence, physical, pyschological, sexual, paternal. We also talk a lot about rights, and everything we do has an emphasis on education. The workshops last 2 to 3 hours, and then we eat a snack after and talk with the women. A lot of the old women like to talk to me a lot, which I like too, but generally they are missing most of their teeth and I have trouble understanding them. They also like to touch my hair because it is soft and my hands, which are not calloused like theirs. They think their hands are ugly compared to mine, but I try to explain I don´t work with my hands and their hands tell their life story, which mine do not. Many of the older women don´t speak much spanish, their primary language is Mam, but the middle generations speak both, and the younger only understand Mam, but don´t speak it. The next generation won´t even understand the indiginous languages, which is sad.

I often find myself thinking about development here, and how is always comes with a loss of culture, which as I am here, seems inevitable at times. Most modern women stop wearing the corte, which is the indiginous dress. I have worn corte, and it is uncomfortable and inhibiting at times. The corte is also different based on wear you live, and when you get married, you have to adopt the corte of your husbands pueblo. While the corte is beautiful, there are very inhibiting factors to it, and at times it keeps women supressed in indiscreet ways. Elvia, who I live with, comes from a very traditional background, but was given the opportunity to go to school, although she had to work to support herself since she was 12 years old. But she is a highly independent, and almost scandalous woman because she lives by herself. While she appreciates Mayan customs, she would not go back to that way of life because it is so masculine, and she can´t be as indpendent as she would like in that culture. I am still learning and my thoughts are constantly changing, and I will probably write more on culture and development later as I have more discussions and my understaning growns.

Happy Turkey Day!

2009-11-30T14:05:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It is my favorite holiday because it is like Christmas, but without all the stuff. I particularly like Thanksgiving when my family holds it at our house because I enjoy cooking all the foods, the smells, and I do not have to travel. I love Christmas lights, music, and movies, but feel frustrated at the consumerism of Christmas and the stress it seems to bring to our lives, when really Advent is a time of remembering Jesus and his words, but we forget his words guarding us against the temptations of materialism. So, I love Thanksgiving best of all because it is a day to be grateful for what we have, and with the thanks to remember all those who do not have as much as us, and our responsiblility to others in the world. Thanksgiving is a day to be with our family and friends and to be grateful for their presence in our lives.

So, I was not sure what Thanksgiving would be like thousands of miles from home and without any of my friends. Two years ago I spent Thanksgiving in Northern Ireland, vising my friend Olivia who was studying there. My roommate, Keatin, and I spent Thanksgiving 2007 with Olivia and made a big Thanksgiving feast for her friends there. Even though I was away from family, I had two of my closest friends with me. Well, my Thanksgiving was slightly weird, but overall very entertaining and fun.

It started about a week before when I met Elvia´s secret boyfriend who spent two years in the United States and was very excited to have a Thanksgiving dinner. He said if we cooked the food, he would buy the turkey and wine. I said, sure, I have helped my mom before and can figure it out. Which I did, but with many bumps along the road.

First, because the boyfriend is secret, the Thanksgiving would have to be secret. It would just be Elvia, myself, the boyfriend (refered to as frijol, or bean), and if another YAV wanted to come in. Well I live a good bit away from everyone else, and most everyone else was doing something with their families. So it was going to be just us three. Then we inivited some Italian volunteers in the Casadiocesana to join us, but they were going to be at a meeting on the coast that day and not returning until Friday. Again, we would be three eating everything by ourselves.

Second, I asked my mom to email the instructions to everything I needed to make, but looking at the list I was not sure I would be able to obtain everything, especially the lard needed to make pie crust, my most favorite thing to make. Also, pumpkins do not exist in Guatemala, but Marsha told us we could make a pie out of a squash found here in Guatemala. I was also unable to find evaporated milk for the pie, it is only found in larger chain stores in big cities. See, I do not live in a touristy area, which is often great for me. I am not harrassed by vendors as much, and people do not jack up the prices as much. They do a little, but I am willing to pay a small gringa tax. But the problem is, there are not many imported foods found in San Marcos. Well Elvia and I spent an entire evening going from store to store and vendor to vendor looking for everything. We eventually found everything needed except lard and evaporated milk, but I was able to substitue lard with fake butter out of vegtable oils and made my cup of powereded milk thicker. The pie turned out very well in the end.

Third, the turkey was 8 pounds, so Fanny Farmer said to cook it 15 min for each pound, So, 2 hours would be needed for the Turkey, and I would give it 3 just to be safe. Well, Wednesday afternoon I was asked to go to Chichicastenago with Elvia´s sister to help her buy things for the store. I had already said I would go with her when the date was some mysterious day in the future. Well, now I was unable to say no because the Thanksgiving was secret and I did not have another excuse. See, I am a terrible liar in English, so I am that much worse in Spanish when I am only able to speak directly. Well, I asked when we would be back and she said around 3. Plently of time to get the turkey dressed and in the oven to eat around 7 or 8.

Chichicastengo was very interesting. It is a huge market (Thursday is markety day) full of Guatemalans and tourists. The strangest thing was walking through the market and hearing English. In Chichi a Catholic priest wrote the first translation of the Popol Vuh, the sacred text of the Mayans. I went to the church that serves as a Catholic church but also has aspects of Mayan worship. Judy told me a story about when she was studying in Chichi and a little boy asked if she wanted a tour of the church and she said sure. Along the aisle of the sancuary there are stone tables set along the floor where people light candles and burn incense for different things. The little boy was telling her about all these ancient customs the Mayans have and that each stone was to pray for a different thing. Well he got to one and said, "this stone, ancient ancient mayan custom, is to pray for your car when in breaks down." I thought that was funny and we laughed about that for a little while.

Going to Chichi and coming back we encountered various road blocks and traffic jams, so I ended up getting home at 530. Uh, oh. Well, if the turkey goes in by 6 it should be done by 8, a normal eating time for dinner here. I run home, make the stuffing and put the turkey in the oven. Then Elvia and I make the rest of food and Francesca, one of the Italians, calls and says she can come after all. Perfect, we have a lot of food that Eliva and I don´t want to be eating until Christmas. Everything is going great, but the turkey is not cooking very fast. See, ovens here are all gas, and don´t have heats on them, and Elvia´s is an older model that does not get very hot. Well, the turkey took 5 hours to cook. We did not eat our Thanksgiving meal until 11 at night. Everyone was good natured, and I blamed it on my mom (sorry mom!). We had fun talking and by 10 I almost feel asleep watcing Knotting Hill in spanish before we went and ate.

Overall it was a wonderful day full of different friends and different experiences. It was a day I will always be grateful for and I will always remember the first Thanksgiving meal I cooked in Guatemala in a fake oven.

Buffets are dangerous in Guatemala

2009-11-24T14:55:00.000-08:00

Right now many students are graduating from what we would call high school. The guatemalan school year ends on the last day of October, but the graduates continue a bit longer because they have to finish practicals. Students also graduate essentially with a major, either in computers, secretary work, teacher, mechanic, and others. Right now we have 4 girls studying different things in our office helping out for their practicals. They are pretty hilarous, I forgot what it was like to be 18 years old and almost ready to graduate high school. Apparently I am fascinating, which is great for me because they force me to talk.

Today Elvia and I went to a lunch for some dude who graduated. I did not understand her connection to thim, but eh, details are not important here. We went to a chinese food resturant and they had a buffet set up for everyone invited. Buffets are dangerous in Guatemala. People were almost pushing others out of the way to get to the line, and then they would pile multiple plates full of food to pass to their other family members. If families consisted of 4 people, this would not be a problem, but they are 10 people so the line moved way slower than it would have if everyone just went up themselves. Then the plates were piled soooo high. Imagine a comical movie where fat people are at a buffet, like the Nutty Professors. That is what the plates looked like, I´m not kidding. I was made fun of for having a full plate but not overflowing. And they ate everything on their plate. I don´t know how they did it. Except they all did admit they felt a little sick afterwords. And now Elvia and I have another dinner we have to go to later tonight for her school mate that is also graduating. Generally when we eat a big lunch we don´t eat dinner, so I will probably be able to eat a little, but I am interested to see how much Elivia will eat at dinner.

Las 24 horas, Michael Jackson, and boots with the fur

2009-11-21T07:58:00.000-08:00

I live across the street from a 24 hour pharmacy and a comedor, which is a type of restaurant where they don´t have a menu, they just make a few different plates and tell you what they have for the day. The 24 hour pharmacy is not open 24 hours. It opens at about 9 in the morning, although it varies from day to day and closes around 10 pm. I think they are allowed to call themselves a 24 hour pharmacy because they don´t close at 6 pm. Sometimes they are open on Sundays, sometimes not, and I am not sure if they stay open for holidays.

The comedor plays music everyday incredibly loud. They have about 7 songs that they play on repeat, every single day. There are two English songs included in the loop, one by Michael Jackson and the song about boots with the fur. They start playing the music at about 7 in the morning and stop around 7 in the evening. The other day Terri went over and asked them to turn down the music, which they did, but I can still hear it from my room in the front of the house, closest to the comedor.

Gloria, Elvia's aunt, lives across the street from us also. Her balcony/courtyard/greenhouse faces into my bedroom window. Often they will scream things at me or Elvia will come to my window and have an entire conversation with someone in her family that lives across the street. Basically, spending an hour reading in my room turns into an adventure of Michael Jackson, boots with the fur, and numerous conversations screamed across the street.

Dia de los Muertos

2009-11-21T07:57:00.002-08:00

For the Day of the Dead I woke up early and went with Elvia, her aunt Gloria, and her cousin Leonardo to decorate the grave of Gloria´s husband, Victor. He died when Gloria was 23 years old, had a two year old son, Victor, and was three months pregnant with Leonardo. I did not take my camera because I did not want to be the gringo in the graveyard taking pictures. The graveyard was beautiful with all the people and the various types of flowers and colors. After we left the graveyard we tried to buy chochitos, which is a type of food that I can´t really describe, but deliciously wonderful. Unfortunately, the women selling chochitos were sold out by the time we left the graveyard. We then walked to the house of the family of Victor and spent some time visiting. Elvia and I then drove to Santa Teresa with her grandmother and cousin, Elvira and her daughter Malleli. Most of Elvia´s family is buried in Santa Teresa, but her family had already decorated the graves. We just decorated the grave of Elvia´s great-grandmother. I love Elvia´s mother, Witcha. She gives wonderful hugs and is always smiling and trying to tell me to sit down and rest and eat and drink tea. We ate tortillas of elote, instead of maize.

We went back to Gloria´s house around 12 or 1 pm where they were preparing fiambre, the traditional meal of the Day of the Dead. Fiambre is basically a mix a various different types of foods, meats and vegetables all mixed together. I did not hate fiambre, but I did not like it either. I don´t really like beets, and a large part of the meal was beets and this disgusting vegetable that is incredibly bitter and horrible. I am not really sure why anyone would like it; the bitter taste cannot be covered. My family talks really fast, mumbles, and use slang. I tend to spend a lot of time not fully understanding what is happening, but understanding enough. That afternoon was so chaotic and full of people coming and going I was really confused, but it was a fun afternoon full of new experiences and new foods.

Mi Cumpleaños

2009-11-21T07:57:00.001-08:00

I was nervous about spending my birthday in Guatemala, and it being so close to my arrival in San Marcos. My birthday´s have never been a huge deal, but they have always been a special day when people tell me they are glad I was born. It is a day to make you feel special and important. Needless to say, I was not sure what my birthday would be like here, and if it would even feel like my birthday. My birthday fell on a Thursday this year, and Wednesday night Elvia asked me if I wanted to go to a concert with her, her two cousins that live across the street, and Prado, the Spanish women who is working with her aunt for the next year. The concert was in the central park of San Pedro, San Marco´s twin city. The concert was free and put on by Gallo, the national beer of Guatemala. I had been sick and Wednesday was the first day I started to feel better. Everyone kept trying to feed me liters of beer and told me I was sick because I did not drink enough beer and tequila to kill the bacteria and parasites. There were two bands that played, and are apparently pretty famous and I recognized a few of the songs from the radio. It reminded of the concerts I went to in high school with everyone jumping around, the mash pits, and throwing of beer and water into the crowds. The concert ended past midnight and everyone wished me a happy birthday with hugs. Everyone, with the exception of myself and the driver were quite drunks from the liters of beer.
The next morning Elvia and Terri left the house before I woke up because they went to buy tamales and cake. Elvia´s family that lives across the street, Prado, and Judy (the American nun who works with us) came over for breakfast. Tamales and cake are the breakfast of choice for birthdays in Guatemala. Everyone who went to the concert the night before was fairly hungover, but I felt great and it was the first day I actually felt like eating. Elvia and I went into the office really late, but our arrival time into the office varies from day to day based on how quickly we get moving in the morning. Judy then came and picked me up and we went into the market of San Pedro to buy the items we needed for my birthday lunch, which was just a stir fry of vegetables and rice, but exactly what I wanted, with of course, icecream. While it was not a traditional birthday, it still felt like a special day.

Living in Guatemala

2009-11-21T07:55:00.000-08:00

I am living in many different worlds. First, I live in the United States and am still connected to the culture there. Second, I live in the human rights sector of Guatemala of highly educated and intellectual Guatemalans and foreign activists. Third, I live in a world poverty and injustice. Fourthly, I live in the world of popular Guatemalan/Latin American culture.

Pastoral de la Mujer (women) is one pastoral within the entire Catholic diocese of San Marcos. Within the Casadicosisana there is a Pastoral de Salud (health), Pastoral de la Tierra (earth), Pastoral de Educacíon, among others, including the Recovery of the Historical Memory (REMI). REMI conducted interviews of the survivors of the civil war, the guerrillas, and the civil patrols, and the army. REMI then created a comprehensive evaluation on what happened during the war, and how Guatemala needs to move forward, while respecting the memory of the war. Today, REMI is still active in ensuring the historical memory of the war is preserved, although I am still learning about how they function. While I am don´t always understand the intricacies of intelligent conversations, I generally understand the gist of each conversation and am exposed to many different ideas.

As part of my work, we go out into smaller communities and work with women who have not been exposed to ideas of women´s rights. During my first community visit to Tectitan, a newer community, Elvia and I played an icebreaker with the women of the community. In the icebreaker all the women had to stand up and introduce themselves while saying one thing they had to offer the community. I struck that most of the women offered material items they have, such as their homes. Very few women offered their skills, probably because they don´t realize that they have skills that can benefit others. The first project I was given was to create a Microsoft Excel spreadsheet and insert all the data for a new education project in Tajumulco, (one of the parochials in San Marcos). The project is providing funding for girls to either stay in school, or start school for the first time. The ages ranged from 13-24 and most of the girls could not read or write. Then when I visited Tajumulco, Eliva and I ate breakfast with the women who helps cook and clean for the parochial. She was telling us that her small income of 200 quetzales supports her 3 children and parents. Her oldest daughter is 13 and does not go to school because she can´t afford the costs of the uniform, books, and school supplies. Plus the daughter helps her with her work. Then during the meeting with the women, Elvia taught the women about the different types of violence (physical, psychological, sexual, inter-familiar, and paternal). While they women have probably been exposed to all these types of violence, either directly or indirectly, they did not know how to explain the different types. It has been interesting to compare these newer communities to the older community of San Jose, which Pastoral de la Mujer has been working with for 9 years. The women in that community are outspoken and most of the women participate in the conversations that happen and have strong opinions that they are not afraid to share.

Elvia´s parents, sister, and one brother, live in a small puebo called Santa Teresa. Her family there still wears the indigenous traje, don´t have indoor plumbing, and keep chickens, pigs, and have one cow and one horse. There was day when we spent the morning and afternoon with her family in Santa Teresa because it was her other sister (who lives in San Marcos and also works with Pastoral de la Mujer), Terri´s, birthday. We spent the day talking with her family and playing with Elvia´s nieces and nephews. I found I have a great party trick, I can do a backbend and all the children crawl under my bridge and never get tired, even though I do! We went home that evening to eat and then get ready to go to the discotecca. Elvia is an independent and educated woman. She is 33 years old, unmarried, has been working for Pastoral de la Mujer for 9 years, and is currently studying human rights in the university in Xela. We often go out at night with her friends, in fact my first night in San Marcos we went to a bar and took tequila shots.
I am being exposed to many different aspects of Guatemalan culture, and I think it will help me learn how to keep my feet in the world of the center and the world of the marginalized.

Machetes fix everything

2009-11-21T07:54:00.000-08:00

On October 12, I arrived in San Marcos where I will be spending the next 10 months. I am living with a single woman, who has been working with Pastoral de la Mujer for 10 years and is currently studying in the university in Xela for human rights. My living situation is very different from the other YAVs because I am not living with a family, and I am also living with an incredibly modern woman. It makes it more difficult to form community because I don´t have a built in community like people who live with families. I have to create my community myself, which has been a difficult, but important challenge for me. Creating community is not really something I have ever had to do; community has always been created around me. I have never been very good and small talk and don´t particularly enjoy it. Having to make small talk in Spanish has been challenging, but in a good way. I find it is the challenging and uncomfortable things in my life that are the best experiences and most fulfilling.

I explained a little about Pastoral de la Mujer in a previous post, and I am still learning about how they function. San Marcos is a huge department, and there are various Pastoral de la Mujer´s within the department, all connected, but doing different things and with their own programs. My Pastoral works within the mountains and Aldeas of San Marcos, while the other two groups are located on the coast. I arrived in San Marcos on a Monday, and Wednesday I went on my first community visit to Tectitan. Tectitan is actually in the region of Huehuetenago, but the parochial is connected with the dioces of San Marcos. I have known that I would be traveling around the department to visit communities, but I never really thought about how I would be traveling. Well, we travel by caminoeta. I wrote a blog post about the caminoeta´s a while back, so I won´t describe the experience again. Elvia and I traveled for 3 hours in a caminoeta up through the mountains. In order to get to Tectitan we had to go up one side of the highest mountain, Taculmuco, in Central America, and the travel down the other side. We drove up through the clouds and eventually were above the clouds, before we traveled back down. It was incredibly beautiful. After we got of the caminoeta we then had to take a taxi for half hour to Tectitan, which does not have a caminoeta stop. There were four adults crammed into the back seat and two adults and a baby crammed into the front seat, and then the driver.

Once we got to Tectitan we arrived at the house of Padre Jose, who is the main padre of the parochial. Elvia had told me we would be going to a hot water pool, so I was prepared with my bathing suit. Shortly after we arrived Padre Jose came with another guy who works for the parochial and we got in his car to travel to the hot water pools. I assumed that the hot water pool would be fairly close to Tectitan, especially because we headed out at 7 pm at night. The pools were an hour and half away down a dirt road through cornfields and we stayed at the pool until 11 pm. I was tired before we got to the pools, and actually feel asleep for a short period of time before my dinner came at 10 pm. When we left I quickly feel asleep in the car, despite my head bumping against the glass window. At some point I feel the car stopping and Padre Jose asking Elvia for a flashlight. Then I hear this horrible grinding noise coming from the car. I wake myself up and we drive the car a little ways further up the road. So now the car is stopped in the middle of cornfields and Padre Jose disappears into the cornfields and comes back with an old man with a flashlight and a machete, which I assume was to help fix the car. Rural Guatemalans use machete´s for everything, and never leave home without one. I have to admit I was very glad to be stranded at midnight in the middle of a cornfield with head Padre of the parochial because he knows everyone. They take the front left wheel off the car and are talking rapidly. I am tired and barely follow the conversation, more interested in the millions of stars I can see in the sky, but Elvia goes and picks something up off the dirt road, and then it is placed somewhere in the car, the wheel is put back on and we continue on our way. I don´t know if what Elvia picked up was part of the car or not, but it looked like a piece of cornhusk. Overall, it was a wonderful adventure.

Corn juice, quesdilla, and a very scary dog

2009-11-21T07:50:00.000-08:00

After we left Antigua, we spent one week in a rural language school outside of Xela in a small Caserìo called Pajac. Our group of YAVs was the first group the language school taught outside of the city. Tito, the head of the language school had trouble finding enough families willing to host students, so I ended up living with Emily for the week. Emily and I lived with an incredible nice Quiche family. There was a husband and wife, their two sons, the husband´s mother, sister, and grandmother. We only learned a little of their story, but the grandmother´s husband died when she was two months pregnant with the mother. The grandmother moved back to Pajac after she gave birth, where her family resided. The mother has 3 daughters and 1 son. Her husband died 25 years old, and her youngest daughter can´t but much older than 25. The youngest daughter who still lived in the house is a nurse in Xela, and the daughter in law is a school teacher. I am not completely sure what the son does, but he is a manual laborer and worked a variety of different hours, sometimes during the day and other times at night. The family speaks Spanish, but the women speak Quiche in the kitchen and I don´t think the grandmother speaks much Spanish, but she was also pretty deaf.

I can´t say I loved the food during this homestay. Bascially we ate fried grease for a week, but we did have a refraccion every evening before supper. The snack consisted of this tea made out of mostly sugar and corn. Emily called it corn juice and it was delicious. We also had this type of bread called quesadilla. It is a bread made out of elote. Guatemalans have many different words for corn, based on different stages in the life of the corn. Maize is the typical translation for corn, but elote is the cob of the corn and is often roasted. Once the elote is roasted you can make a dough, and from this dough our family made the delicious quesadilla bread. It tastes like corn bread, but much more wonderful.

After every meal and snack Brian will go up to each person with his hands behind his back and give a little bow saying, ¨Gracias.¨ The receiver of his thanks will touch his head and say, ¨Buean provecho.¨ This is a Mayan custom and sign of mutual respect, giving and receiving thanks. Every one in Guatamala thanks the people they shared their meal with. Not only is it being grateful for the food eaten, but it is being grateful for the company shared. Sometimes it is difficult for me to accept hospitality and to be waited on. One evening the mother came rushing back from a funeral in order to begin to prepare dinner for us, even though the rest of the family was still at the funeral. Emily and I asked her if we could help her in anyway, and she said sure, we could help make the tortillas. Emily and I had already tried to make tortillas our first night, and failed drastically. The tortilla dough sticks to your hands if your hands are not moist enough, but then the dough does not stick enough if your hands our too wet. Then there is the perfect amount of dough you have to use, otherwise the tortilla is too thick, or too small. There is a perfect science to making tortillas, and Emily and I are no help in the tortilla making department. We get into the kitchen and the mother tells us to sit down and feeds us corn juice and quesadilla. It was only later we ¨helped¨ make tortillas, but in reality we were just waited on without helping at all.

That night Emily and I talked about the story of Mary, Martha, and Jesus. This is a story that tells us how accompaniment is more important than doing, and our year as YAVs is about accompanying the people of Guatemala. Emily mentioned how she always wishes that Jesus went into to the kitchen to help. I feel that would be a more appropriate story for what we are doing here. Accompaniment is about joining the lives of the people here, and part of that is helping in the kitchen. It is difficult when we are not really allowed to help, and how to figure out how to force people to allow us to accompany in all aspects of life, instead of being viewed as a guest to be waited on.

Our house did not have a bathroom, only a latrine outside near the pig pen. Emily and I realized the first day we would probably be going a week without a shower, which we did. The family also had two dogs, a puppie and an older dog. The very first afternoon we arrived, Brian, the 7 year old son, asked Emily and I if we wanted to play. We went outside to play soccer and passed by the dogs. The older dog snarled at us and Brian told us to watch out for him because he is mean. So, of course, Emily and I then watch out for the snarling dog. As we are walking down the driveway down to the road to play soccer we have to walk by the pickup which the dog is now hiding under. Emily did not realize the dog had moved under the truck and when she walked by he snarled again and Emily must have jumped three feet and screamed running into the street. It was incredibly funny, but our fear of the dog never wavered for the rest of the week. Now Emily and I were out in the street playing with Brian, and unable to get back in the house because the dog is watching us and snarls whenever we get too close to the driveway. When it becomes time to head back into the house for supper Brian hands Emily and I two rocks and tells us to throw them at the dog while we walk back inside. Obviously Emily and I do not throw the rocks and the dog, but the mother comes outside and throws a huge rock at the dog. Now Emily and I are inside the house, but we can´t leave to go to the latrine without fear of the dog. Brian and the wife had to escort us to the bathroom and told us to come wake them up if we needed to go in the middle of the night. After the first night Emily and I stopped making the family escort us, but we generally always went together with a huge stick. The dog eventually stopped growling at us, but he stayed suspicious of us and Emily and I never left the house without sticks, and were always scared to use the latrine late at night or early in the morning.

When we left the family the grandmother and wife gave us each a small gift and a bag of apples. While the bathroom situation was difficult, especially with the scary dog, the cot was uncomfortable, and I was constantly cold, I really enjoyed my week in Pajac. Instead of being grateful for what I do have, I realized how easy it is to become accustomed to doing without. Really all we need is good company, corn juice, quesadilla bread, and the willingness to show kindness and open ourselves up to complete strangers.

Yo creo que...SI!

2009-10-13T08:38:00.000-07:00

I think I like beans. Actually, I know I like frijoles negros. For anyone who knows my eating habits, you know this is a huge thing for me. I used to hate beans. I despised beans. The thought of beans made me gag. I hated the squish and squirt of the texture and I hated the taste. Over the past year I have tried to make myself start eating beans and was able to eat them in other foods as long as I could swallow them hole without having to deal with the squish and squirt of really taste them.

I spent my last week of language school in a highly rural setting in Pachaj, Cantel. I lived with a Quiche Mayan family that did not have indoor plumbing. The experience was wonderful, with the exception of the food. They fried everything. Have you ever had a fried egg? I thought I had but realized I never have. For dinner we would eat oil with a little bit of fried squash or coliflur. I found myself desiring beans. Even the mushed up ones that are even more difficult that the whole ones. Even bean juice (a common supper with rice while I was in San Juan). We had refried beans for lunch one day and it tasted delicious. After our week was over and all the YAVs spent two nights retreating together before we left for our permanent placements, I ate a lot of beans. All I wanted was to fill my plate up with some beans and eat tortillas. I have found it is the best meal for me when my stomach is slightly uncomfortable.

I have also found I can no longer eat without a tortilla. I don´t know how to scoop the food onto my fork without one. Really, I don´t even need silverwear as long as I have a tortilla. I can just rip it in half and scoop. When you can eat your silverwear you know life is good. Tortillas can also mask the flavor of food you don´t really want to eat. In Pachaj I would get some soupy/chunky mixtures that I could not distinguish. I would often find pieces of bone in my food, so there was some kind of unidentifiable meat in the mixture. I would just use enough tortilla to sop up the mess and help mast the flavor. Then I could not think about what I just ate for at least 20 minutes.

Tortillas and beans, mmm. I can do without the rice though.

Meeting the Fams

2009-10-13T07:49:00.000-07:00

From Thursday, October 1 - Sunday, October 4, I met the families and placements of all the YAVs, including my own. It was a busy couple of days full of ackward conversations and being completley overwhelmed by all the information being thrown at us...in Spanish. My spanish is certainly getting better, but I have difficulty recognizing verb tenses at times, plus I can´t understand people who mumble even in the slightest, nor can I keep up with conversations when people talk to fast. Then when you get left behind it is just about impossible to catch back up. So I ask all of you, if you are speaking to a person just learning your language, first, speak CLEARLY. Second, speak slightly slower so people can keep up and it will allow you to annunciate your words.

We spent Thursday in San Felipe, Quezaltenango. Willem, the sole boy in our group, will be living there working in a school and on a coffee finca near the western coast of Guatemala. The school is a private colegio that holds primerio in the morning (grades 1-6) and basico (grades 7-9) in the afternoons. It is a private school, but I am not convinced it is much better than the public schools. Willem will be living with the family who owns the school, which was bought to help the family earn additional income. Right now the school is actually loosing money. After we visited the school we went to meet Willem´s family and have lunch. His mother or sister made this delicious rice with all kinds of weird things in it. I especially loved the raisins and had seconds. Then we traveled to Finca Santa Elena where he will be working. The finca has been owned by the same family for three generations and two siblings run it and the French husband of Anne Marie (one of the siblings). The finca is also a money making enterprise, but the owners first priority is to their workers and providing stable work. The finca pays at least 10 quetzales more per 100 pounds of coffee picked and the owners are not making money to put in the bank. All of the income from the finca goes to pay their expenses. In order to generate more cash flow, they have opened their finca to tourism, but in a way that highlights the problems of coffee picking and issues of social justice. They want people to understand the reality of coffee farming and the types of lives the pickers lead. The finca is absolutely a beautiful place in general and I am excited to have our November retreat there.

Friday morning Marcia walked us around Xela helping the three girls who are living get accoustmed to the second largest city in Guatemala. After lunch we went and visited Emily´s placement, La Fraternidad de Presbeterianos Mayas. I love La Fraternidad. Both times I went to Guatemala with Queens we spent time with La Fraternidad and in the communities they work with. I have so much respect for the women of La Fraternidad and am slightly jealous of Emily. The vision of La Fraternidad is to promote and train women´s groups to act as catalysts of change, creating a better future through the implementation of holistic projects that benefit the members and their communities. They work with Maya women and have four main projects that are currently running. The have a socio-developmet program that provides technical assistance of an agronnomist to groups with agricultural projects, and environmental protection in general. They have a women´s ministry program that seeks to increase women´s participation and leadership in the family, church and community. They have an education program that seeks to elevete the quality and capacity for the independence of poor Maya women. Finally, they have a holistic health program that works on preventative health and nutrition. Then we went and met Emily´s family. Marcia had initally told us all that no one was going to have a really rural experience and likely everyone would have indoor plumbing. Well, Emily is rural and does not have indoor plumbing. She will certaintly have the longest adjustment period, but her family seems wonderful and she will be living in the same community as the people she will be working with.

Saturday we drove into San Marcos and met my placement and Elvia. I will be working with Pastoral de la Mujer of the Catholic diocese. The diocese in San Marcos is apparently the best in Guatemala and one of the best in Central America. The archbishop is very progressive and they have many wonderful projects that cover a variety of issues. Elvia started to explain to us what Pastoral does, but also started explaining all of the projects that the diocese is involved in. She also speaks very fast so I could not keep up with everything. Marcia and I both understand what the organization is trying to do, but not how they do it exactly. I know I will be traveling a lot out to different communities. Most of them will be day trips but San Marcos is a huge department so some will be overnight trips. We went to Judy´s house for lunch. Judy is an American nun who has been working in Guatemala for 15 years, and was in Bolivia before that. Then we went to Elvia´s apartment for dessert, which is where I will be living. I will just be living with Elvia, but her extened family lives across the street, with whom we will spend a lot of time. Elivia lives above a construction garage of some kind and another family lives off of the garage. It is a small apartment but very comfortable. My living situation is different from everyone else because I don´t have a family, but this will be better for my spanish. It is a lot harder not to practice when it is only you and one other highly extroverted female. Elvia is Maya, but she is incredibly modern and no longer wears the traje. I am not sure if she speaks an indigenous language, but her mother still wears the traje and lives in pueblo outside of the city of San Marcos.

Saturday night we went and had dinner with Bettina´s family. Bettina is also living with a Mayan family, but they are obviously the first generation with money. They live in an incredibly nice house, nice by American standards, and Bettina will be living in what we believe is the servants quarters because it is right next to the kitchen and she has her own bathroom. She has six brothers of varying age and the family is evengalical. Her experience will be highly different from mine and Emily´s, but in reality all five of us will have highly different experiences. We ate a delicious dinner and decided Bettina is going to get fat this year. We later learned the meal is a traditional Guatemala party meal called pepitino, or something like that. I keep forgetting the word but it is served in various methods, which we also had in a different form for lunch at Judy´s that day, and then for lunch Sunday at Dana´s.

Sunday we went to an Episcopal church service, which is the church Dana will be working at. She will be mostly working on a daily lunch service for the elderly. The church also has a small clinic that they run sometimes and bring in at least one medical mission team a year. Dana will probably travel with that team when they arrive. We had lunch with Dana´s family and then left for our last week of language school in Pachaj, a small pueblo outside of Xela.

I Tremble on the Edge of a Maybe

2009-09-30T09:45:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I leave for something new, a beginning. While I still have one week of languge school left in Xela, I will meet my family and placement on Saturday. Here is another poem that we read the first day we where here that I like a lot that I wanted to post.

I Tremble on the Edge of a Maybe

O God of beginnings,
as your Spirity moved
over the face of the dep
on the first day of creation,
move with me now
in my time of beginnings,
when the air is rain-washed,
the bloom is on the bush,
and the world seems fresh
and full of possibilities,
and I feel ready and full.

I tremble on the edge of a maybe,
a first time,
a new thing,
a tentative start,
and a wonder of it lays its finger on my lips.

In silence, Lord,
I share now my eagerness
and my uneasiness
about this something different
I would be or do;
and I listen for your leading
to help me separate the light
from the darkness
in the change I seek to shape
and which is shaping me.

Our Trash

2009-09-30T09:08:00.000-07:00

I think I can honestly say I decided to come to Guatemala for a year because last March I heard one woman's story. Her name is Alta Gracia and she currently works at the Francisco Coll School. Yesterday I went back to the Francisco Coll School and was able to hear her story again, with a few additions. Many of you who read this blog have already heard her story, because I often refer to it. But I am going to tell it again.

The Francisco Coll School is located at the edge of the Guatemalan City dump. All the garbage from Guatemala City goes into this dump. Parts of the dump have been covered over the years, and that is where the school and homes of the students is located. Over a dump. The school is privately funded by International Samaritans and the Presbyterian Church, Canada. The school has 302 students and goes from 1st grade to 6th grade. Guatemalan law is that if you are behind in school by more than two years, you can't be in lower grades in public schools. Francisco Coll has permission to allow older students in younger grades. All the parents of the children work in the dump, and many of the children work in the dump too. The school also has a program for adults and teenagers to learn how to read.

Alta Gracia makes the snack at the school at has been working there since it opened, 15 years ago. Before she worked at the school she worked in the dump for 12 years. From the dump she would obtain all of her family's furniture, clothing, and food. Everything they had came from the dump. Working in the dump means that you dig through the garabage looking for items you can use, but also for items that can be recycled. People take those items to a recycling plant right next door to the dump, and are give money. Alta Gracia made 5 quetzales a day or 55 cents a day. This money went to buy powder to make tortillas, but there was none left over to even buy manzanilla tea to drink. They had to drink dirty water. One day Alta Gracia found a piece of meat in the dump and brought it home and cooked it. She and her three children ate it, not realizing it had been posioned. Her children were hospitalized for 3 months, and she was hospitalized for 6 months. She was pregnant at the time and gave birth in the hospital. It is truly a miracle that her family survived, and they she got the job at Franciso Coll. All of her children went to Francisco Coll and now two of her daughters are about to graduate from school to be teachers, and one of her sons is a mechanic.

While we were walking around Alta Gracia also showed us a tent village in front of her community and even closer to the entrance of the dump. She said 1 or 2 days ago people moved into this empty land and set up makeshift tent homes. The rule in Guatemala is that if people occupy a space for 2 or 3 years then it is their's permanently. People have to organize and move into a place all at once so the police can't move them out without causing a huge riot. The new community had set up homes with some tarps and sacks hanging over a few poles. It looked like, and essentially is, a refugee camp.

Alta Gracia has an amazing story and it is easy to see how God has worked in her life. What made me mad last March, and what still makes me mad today, is how her story is an exception. There are still so many people who depend on the dump for less than subsistence survival. Their family members die from eating bad food or not having access to care. They don't get new jobs and their children never finish the 6th grade. That is the story of most people who work in the dump. I feel angry at the economic systems in place that force people to live these lives. Economic systems that were put in place by "the first world" or the USA and Europe. Economic systems that developed countries refuse to change because it benefits them, without caring about the consequences. I am angry.

I Want to Believe

I do not believe in the right of
the one who is stronger;
In the language of weapons,
Or in the strength of the powerful.
I want to believe in the rights
of the people,
In the open hand,
In the power of non-violence.
I do not believe in race, in wealth,
in privilege,
In the established order.
I want to believe that
all people are people;
And that the order of power
and injustice
Are in fact disorder.

I do not believe that war
and famine are inevtiable,
And that peace in unreachable.
I want to believe in the simple act,
In the love symbolized
by the joining of hands,
In peace upon the earth.
I do not believe that
the dreams of humanity
will reamin merely a dream,
And that death will be the end
I dare the believe the opposite.
Always and in spite of everything
I dare to believe in the new humanity.
I dare to believe in the dream of God:
A new heaven; a new earth
where justice will exist.
~ Waldensian Church Rio De la Plata (translated)

The Gomez Family

2009-09-30T08:42:00.000-07:00

I have been living with the Gomez family during my time in San Juan. They are an incredible family and I greatly respect everything they have been through in their lives. Vinicio is the father, Olga the mother, Vinicio the older son, and Fabio the younger son. Vinicio Jr. is married and living in Dallas Texas. Vinicio finished high school and then completed three years of university. He has had a friend, Benjamin (the director of Appe, my language school) since he was 9 years old. He and Benjamin lived togther in Costa Rica for a time while Benjamin was in seminary. He never finished. Then they both started working for the Peace Corp teaching Spanish to the volunteers. During that time Vinicio told Benjamin they should open their own language school in Antigua, outside of San Juan where they grew up. A few years later Benjamin decided to leave the Peace Corp to open a language school and asked Vinicio to come with him. Vinicio was married with a child at that time and needed to stay with the Peace Corp because it was a steady income. Eventually he left the Peace Corp and now works at Appe. Olga is an amazingly strong woman. Currently she is battling osteoporosis and has to get a daily injection that costs 300 quetzales per injection. She has to get 30 total. 300 quetzales is large fortune. Earlier in her life she battled a brain tumor and cancer. Or her brain tumor was cancerous. I believe Vinicio was telling me about two different ailments, but I can't always trust my translations. Olga often gets sick, and is really sick right now. She has been in bed since Sunday morning and today is fairly chilly, which makes her bones ache more. I love seeing Vinico and Olga interact together. Vinico helps around the house a lot, which is unusual for a Guatemalan family. He washes dishes and helps clean. I don't think he cooks, and I have never seen him wash clothes, but he is more helpful than most Guatemalan padres. He has not gone to work this week because he has wanted to be home with Olga. In so many other situations Olga's husband would probably have left her by now. All of her illnesses and operations have been very expensive, which would cause many men to leave her because she is a drain on the household instead of an asset. I love to see the love and compassion Olga and Vinicio have for each other, and how progressive their relationship is.

Last night Vinicio was telling me how greatful he is to God and all the miracles he has blessed his family with. Olga has survived many illnesses, and even though everything has been so expensive, and her injections are still expensive, they have been able to make ends meet. They live in a house that is on the water line in San Juan, so it is very rare that they don't have water. Currently our shower is broken, but we still have water. When they bought their house they had no way of knowing it was on a water line. Slowly they have been able to expand on their house and make it pretty. Olga has a garden that rival's my own mother's, just smaller. God has blessed them and hopefully they will be able to realize their future dreams. Olga wants to open up a small store in the front room of their house someday, and build a new and bigger kitchen so she can teach the students who stay in their house how to cook and make tortillas. Vinicio hopes these things can happen, but only God knows the purpose and path in our lives.

This is something that I constantly need to reminded of. Obvioulsy we have control over the choices we make, which guide our lives, but I need to make sure I am listening to God's path for my life. If you had asked me two years ago if I would be a missionary for a year I would have told you no way. I hope that this year God will continue to bless my life and give me the guidance I need to make appropriate decisions for my future paths.

My feet stink

2009-09-27T10:16:00.000-07:00

I made a friend in San Juan del Obispo. It is a small street dog whom I have refused to name. She follows me around everywhere, but not for food. Really she just wants to be loved and around people. She came to school with me for a few days and became really protective of the school and would bark at the construction workers next door and any dog that would come in. She is so tiny that she would never win a fight anyway. Once one of the chickens pecked her and she started crying. I have not seen her in a couple of days, and both my teacher and madre told me they think she was adopted. She is very friendly, loving, and protective, so she would make a good house dog. I don't know if they are just trying to make me feel better and really something bad happened, but I am choosing to believe the happy ending story.

I have not showered in almost a week and my feet perpetually stink. The water in my house has been coming and going the last week and now that we have water, the facuet in the sink is broken. I really hope it is fixed sometime today so I can finally shower. I don't shower here as much as I did in the states, and even in the states I tried really hard to conserve water. Water is a really scare resource here, and highly expensive. I have been trying to only shower every few days unless I am sweaty or expetionally dirty. In most homes there is only one bathroom for many people, so showering every day not only uses resources, but inconviences everyone else. In my home the toilet and shower are outside, so I am only using the shower and the toilet is still free for other people to use, which is nice. My family only consists of my padres and hermano and one other volunteer living with the Gomez's.

Last night Olga's (mi madre) sobrino (nephew) was confirmed in the Catholic Church. We had a party at our house for him and his family. Often my house is very quiet because there are so few people living there, that it was nice to have a lot of talking, laughing and commotion happening. Emily (another YAV) and I like to laugh about how my hermano always has a mischevious look in his eye. Like he is always in some kind of trouble or about to get into trouble. In reality I think he is a really good kid, but he certainly has that look...

This week has been relatively quiet because Marcia was in Coban last week so we did not have many afternoon adventures. Tuesday morning we will be going to Guatemala City to visit CEDEPCA and then Wednesday we might be going into the city to visit the Francisco Coll School, and school on the outskirts of the city dump where most of the children's parents work. Thursday morning we leave Antigua for Xela. We will visit all the YAVs placements and families, and then we will spend one more week of language school in Xela. After that I will be moving to San Marcos where I will be for the rest of the year.

I can't believe I have been here for a month tomorrow...

A Very Busy Week

2009-09-19T15:14:00.001-07:00

This week went by so quickly. Last Tuesday we did not have school because it was Guatemala's independence day. Since I have arrived in Guatemala there has been bombas going off and fiestas everyday. On Tuesday all the YAVs went into Antigua to watch the parades. Basically each school put a little performance together and they walked through the hot streets. We only stayed in Antigua for a couple of hours because, honestly, the parades were boring. San Juan del Obispo, the small town were I am living, had a very lively party with fun traditions. Families make up their own baskets of food and bring it to the central park and sell tamales, icecream, tostados, tacos, etc. The fiesta started with a man who made a speech. He talked about all the problems Guatemala is facing. He told the people of San Juan that even though they may not be facing the same problems as much of the country, they have a responsiblity to help solve the problems in their country. He also said the people need to be advocates for bringing peace to Guatemala and to the world. Even though Guatemala has a lot of problems, they still can't ignore the problems of the world. I have never heard a speech on the Fourth of July that highlights the problems of America. The Fourth is about celebrating how wonderful our country is and how far we have come. I feel it is really important to acknowledge what we have done, but what we still have to accomplish. We can celebrate our country but still make sure we are moving forward, which is what the man was trying to do. I heard about a special tradition in San Juan. They set up this huge pole and collect money and stick it to the top of the pole. All the young boys then try to climb this slick pole to the top to get the money. It could be very dangerous but no one has gotten hurt enough to stop the tradition. This year it was a 12 year old boy who won 300 quetzales. I unfortunatly missed out on the fun because I went home for dinner, but I heard about it the next day from my teacher.

Thursday we spent the afternoon in Guatemala City visiting an Immigration Organization. They mostly work with people immigrating to Guatemala, but I learned about why people immigrate in general and all the human rights violations that occur and how much people are taken advantage of.

Friday afternoon we went and had lunch with Corazon de la Mujer, or Heart of the Woman. Both times I visited Guatemala with Queens we visted this group of Mayan women, and everytime the visit is special and heart wrenching. The group is comprised of Mayan women from different indigenous groups. During La Violencia they were forced from their homes and relocated to Chimaltenago and found each other to try and cooperatively solve their problems and create better lives for their children. The women now have a weaving co-op and sell their products to different groups. Because I want this blog to focus on sharing the stories of the people I hae met, I am going to share the three stories that were shared with me yesterday.

Maria:
Maria's family fled from their home because the army was frequently coming into their pueblo and recruting men for the civilian patrols that carried out many of the atrocities during the war. Maria's mother-in-law was killed by the soliders when they fled and they were never able to collect her body in order to give her a funeral. They lived in the woods for two years eating roots, berries, and fruit. They would get their water from the streams and only had enough sustanance to survive. Today it is causing many people to have gastrointestinal problems and people are dying from those complications. During this time Maria's husband tried to find work in Guatemala City and then they all moved to Chimaltenago. This was very difficult at first because they did not speak Spanish well, they just spoke their indigenous language. People did not know their family, so they did not trust them nor did they want to give her husband a job. The army then told the Mayas that if they turned themselves in, they would be granted immunity and no longer targeted. Maria's family went and "turned themselves in" to the army but they were all rounded up and sent back to their pueblos were they army could monitor them better. Maria's family went back to Chimaltengo, where they still live today.

Bernardo
Bernado lived in Chichichicastengo before her family had to flee from the army. When they army came her entire village fled into the woods where they lived for two months. The army caught her sister, who was 8 months pregnant, and cut her stomach open while she was still alive. They mutilated to fetus of her baby and then cut her tounge out and tortured Bernardo's husband before they killed them. Many people died of hunger during those two months in the woods because there was no food they could eat, they only had water from the stream. Bernardo had a baby daughter at this time who would often cry because Bernardo was not able to generate enough milk to feed the baby. Many people told Bernardo to kill her daughter because they crying would give their location away to the military. Eventually Bernardo found her way to Chimaltenango and Heart of the Women, who helped her learn spanish and get established.

Maria Adelaida:
Maria was one year old when the army came to her pueblo. Her mother tied Adelaida to her back and in each of her hands she had one of her children. While they were fleeing Adelaida's father disappeared. One of Adelaida's siblings was also lost during the flee. Her mother managed to get her family to Chimaltenago, but was often unable to provide for her children. Adelaida only went to school until third grade because she was embarrassed that she was so much older than the other children and that she never had new clothes or new shoes. She dropped out of school and started working in a clothing factory so she could provide for herself and no longer be a burden on her family. When she was 17 she got married hoping her life would get easier. She married an alcholic and had two daughters with him. He was also killed by the military. Adelaida was left with two daughters to raise by herself so she had to move home. She started an herbal remedy business and decided she wanted to go work in the United States. She tried to find legal means of getting to the United States, but was cheated out of a lot of money by a con man taking advantage of people wanting to immigrate. By wanting to get ahead, Adelaida was pushed even further back by the system. Adelaida joined Corazon and was given a scholarship to finish school through the sixth grade and since has been able to travel around Guatemala and Central America with her herbal remedy business. She would like to continue with school, but she is also helping her daughters finish school. In Octuber she will be going to the United States to visit Queens and participate in the Guatemala reunion.

I think it is important to tell these women's stories because we should not pity them. They have powerful stories and are even stronger women. It is important to recognize that the United States played a huge role in the civil war in Guatemala. The United States sponsored a coup of a democratically elected president and then financed the army and provided them with torture training. While we are not directly responsible for the atrocities that happpened, we are responsible to our government, and must hold them accountable for the actions they engage in.

The women expressed sorrow that Guatemala has sent soldiers into the middle east because they know innocent families are experiencing the same things they went through. Every time I visit these women I am filled with different emotions. I have never really been a full advocate of non violence. I have always wanted to avoid it at all costs, but could understand why guerillas decide to resort to violence. One of my favorite theologians is Dietreich Bonhoffer, who was apart of an assisnation plot to kill Hitler. Lately, I have really been thinking about non-violence, and find myself moving towards the philosophy. I do not think there is any end that could justify the atrocities that happend to Heart of the Women, and hundreds of thousands of other Guatemalans. With violence and war there is so much suffering that can not be justified, ever.

The Chicken Bus

2009-09-12T14:09:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about the chicken bus. It is called the camioneta and are old US school buses that no longer meet US codes and are sent to Latin America. These buses are painted and decked out by the owners of the bus and they have all kinds of pictures and stickers on the inside. On market days (Monday, Thursday, Saturday) these buses are packed to the brim. There are at least three people to a seat with babies and toddlers sitting on laps. There are people packed together like sardines standing in the aisles and somehow more people manage to squeeze on at each stop. The buses park at the market and men get on selling candy, icecream, healing creams, and religion. It is really interesting getting on the bus early just to see all the vendors. Then the bus gets going and drives all around the city of Antigua picking up more passengers. These drivers are crazy and run around turns, drive fast, and slam on the breaks. Then a man manages to squeeze his way through the aisles collecting the bus fair, which is about 7 US cents. These men have incredible memories because they have to collect a few times throughout the ride and they always remember who has paid, who has not, and who they owe money too if they could not break a bill. I am starting to become familiar with some of the buses and bus drivers. The driver of the Carolina bus is crazy and I do not want to be standing during that ride. The Mickey Mouse bus is the worst. I have to sit down and close my eyes the entire time or I will vomit. All in all, the chicken bus is an interesting experience (reminding me of the dalla dallas in Tanzania) and I will be excited to compare Antigua camionetas to ones in Xela and San Marcos.

We Are The Story

2009-09-12T13:57:00.000-07:00

Thursday afternoon after classes all the YAVs traveled to Guatemala City to visit Dennis Smith, a Presbyterian Mission co-worker who has been living in Guatemala for over 30 years. We talked about current events happening in Guatemala and things we should be aware of throughout the year. We also read a speech by Ivan Illich, who criticizes Americans who go to third world countries to "help." It is important for us to be aware of the potential harm we may cause when we go into unfamiliar places without fully understanding the culture, language, and history. When we do missions it is often about us and what we hope to gain from the experience. Dennis told us that this year is going to be about us because realistically we are not going to "do" anything. We will help solve any of the problems we see, and even though we are all in placements working towards alleviating problems, we will not even make a dent in the larger problems. Dennis said that this year is about us because we are the stories, we are the accumulation of the stories we have been apart of and other people's stories become apart of us, and our stories will become apart of others. This is the greatest gift and something no one can take away from us or even deny about our year here. So, this blog is going to be my story throughout the year, and the stories of others who will hopefully become apart of me.

Estoy en Guatemala!

2009-09-06T10:37:00.000-07:00

I am finally in Guatemala and have been here for a week. This post is going to be really long because I want to talk about a few things that happened during orientation. I will also apologize for weird puncuation and spelling, I need to get used to the keyboards here and spell check does not work in English.

Orientation was held in Stony Point, New York and all the international and national YAVs were present. We were given a lot of information on a variety of topics and issues we will face throughout the year. We had one lecture on globalization that Rick Ufford-Chase, the director of Stony Point, gave. He talked about how our system of global economics has created a system of instutional injustice. This system benefits the privledged, those who live in the "center," but keeps the poor powerless and stuck in a cycle of poverty that is virtually impossible to stop. Rick challenged us to live out the social gospel and actively stand against instutional injustice. We are all complicit in allowing these systems to continue and grow. This talk energized me about my year and affirmed I am in the right place to further learn about these systems and how I can learn to actively stand against institutional injustice. It is impossible for a person of the center - which i am- to become a part of the borderlands. It is because I am of the center that I can experience the borderlands. What I need to learn is how to keep on foot in the center and in the borderlands.

We left Stony Point at 3 am to catch a 6 am flight to Guatemala City. For the first three days we stayed in an old Catholic monastery, which is now a Catholic retreat center on the edge of Antigua. We spent the first few days getting aquainted with Antigua and getting to know each other. We started language school on Thursday and moved in with our host families for the month. Thursday was exhausting because it was a day entirely in Spanish. My language teacher does not speak English, which is good because I have to use spanish entirely. She understands a lot of English, so if I really have to ask a question in English I can. I am living with the Gomez family. My host dad´s name is Vinicio, mom, Olgo, and brother Fabio. Vinicio is a teacher at the school and is hosting two other students. I have already noticed I am understanding more Spanish, although I have trouble with tenses. I am not speaking much better, but I am sure it will come with some more time.

Yesterday - Saturday- all the YAVs climbed Vulcan Pacaya. It was an hour and half climb up fairly steep terrain. We then climbed up lava and were able to get incredibly close to the lava flow of the volcano. We all commented that in the US you would never be able to get that close, even if you signed your life away. From the volcano we could see all around Guatemala and the many mountains and volcanoes. It was truly awe inspiring. Climbing up and down the lava portion of the climb I was slightly afraid for my life because the rock was not at all sturdy, but it was incredible. A lot of people live on the volcano and gain their income by having their children beg, sell walking sticks, or rent horses to take you up. Many dogs followed us up the lava portion of the climb because they know tourists bring marshmallows to roast over the lava. These dogs are so skinny and it is heartbreaking to see them. It is heartbreaking to know they are so skinny because the people living on the volcano are also starving. I am torn on how to handle these situations. Parents take their children out of school because they know they can make money begging and selling sticks. Tourists feel worse for children and give them charity. If that were not the case, the children would have a higher chance of getting more education. The dilemna is that they beg because they have no food. I don´t know how to handle those situations because even if I don´t support child labor, everyone else does. How can I solve such a huge problem and what is the best course of action. I feel so helpless, making me frustrated, and yet I am not nearly as helpless and the people living on the volcano, and since I am from the center I am not as helpless as most of the world.

Preparation

2009-08-18T06:44:00.000-07:00

In six days I leave home. On the 24 of August I will be leaving for New York, where I will have one week of orientation. The YAV program has five different sites, so all the international volunteers will be together for this orientation. Then on the 31 I will be flying to Guatemala for one year. I have been making lists and trying to figure out what I should pack, and what I should leave behind. I have one large duffel bad (with wheels) that I am trying to fit all my belongings in. Since a major focus of the year is on simple living, I am trying to only bring the necessities with me and leave a lot of things behind.

My placement is with an organization called, Pastoral de la Mujer of the Catholic diocese in San Marcos. They have a relationship with Cedepca, an organization I am already very familiar with. Pastoral de la Mujer is located in the small city of San Marcos, in the department of San Marcos, which is about one and a half hours from Quetzaltenago, or Xela. My first responsibility is to form a relationship with the people of San Marcos, and the work of Pastoral de la Mujer. The women's ministries include training workshops with women in indigenous communities on topics of rights, values, and participation in society. The have also formed small libraries that they oversee in certain communities. In the beginning I will accompany the women and watch and learn, but eventually I will find spaces where I will use my skills and will actively participate. I may be given the opportunity to accompany and translate for groups from U.S. churches later in they year when my Spanish is stronger. I will live in San Marcos with a lady named Elivia and her family who works at La Pastoral de la Mujer.

I want to say thank you for all your support and can't wait to share my experiences with you throughout the year. I will have decent access to internet, so please comment on my blog, facebook, or send me emails!

Finding Strength

2009-06-28T15:54:00.000-07:00

Today I spoke at all three services at my church. At the end of every month my church takes up a second mission offering that went to me this Sunday. In order for me to explain why I feel the need to spend a year in Guatemala, I told the congregation the story of Alta Gracia, a woman I met last March while I spent my Spring Break in Guatemala. Speaking in front of hundreds of people made the fact that I am leaving in less than two months more real. I have been actively fundraising, filling out paperwork, and practicing Spanish for the past two months, but it has still been a distant adventure in the future. I am excited to leave, but I am also nervous and scared. After the second service, a lady came up and I knew instantly that she was Guatemalan. Her name is Isabella and she thanked me for going to her country. She told me that she grew up in the mountains hunting for berries, never having enough to eat. When she got really hungry, she said God would put her to sleep to make the hunger go away. When she was 12 she ran away from home and came to the United States. While I am still nervous, apprehensive, and scared to spend a year in a foreign country (where I don't fully speak the language), I am more excited. I know I will meet so many wonderful people who will touch my life, and hopefully I will touch theirs.

Where to begin?

2009-06-15T08:51:00.000-07:00

As many of you probably know, on August 31, 2009, I will be leaving for Guatemala for a year. I will be working as a Young Adult Volunteer through the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). While I am in Guatemala I will be focusing on a life of simple living and becoming part of a Guatemalan community. I will be living with a Guatemalan host family and will become an active member of the community. I could be placed in an urban or rural setting, but either way my focus will be on accompaniment while studying and addressing social and economic injustices.

Currently, I have been working on getting my paperwork completed, physical and vaccines updated, working on my Spanish, and fundraising. In order to spend a year volunteering in Guatemala, I have to raise the funds to support me for the year. I find fundraising the most difficult and frustrating part of any mission preparation. Despite my personal phobias about fundraising, it really is an important part of the process. Fundraising forces us to trust that God will provide, and it provides the volunteer with a support group while they are away. I am finding that asking people for their prayers and support is more important than their financial support. Fundraising is also a humbling experience. It forces us to depend and trust others, which will be a big part of my year. So, I humbly begin my journey seeking emotional, spiritual and financial support.