The Luck of the Draw

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

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

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

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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

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

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?

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

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.