A worm, a cold shower, and dealing with drugs (Day 464)

I love having a USB modem.  It allows me to update from anywhere I can get signal.  I'm currently sitting on a bus waiting to head back to Antigua (and, ultimately, San Antonio Aguas Calientes).

I've spent the last week in Zacapa, Zacapa, Guatemala.  I've heard that this is a very dangerous area due to how many drug lords supposedly live here.  However, just as with most places in Guatemala, I have very little qualms about walking around familiar areas in the daylight.  I've been here with a group called Children of the Americas, translating for their medical clinic.  I start back at school on Monday.

The week has been fairly uneventful, but certainly not without things of note.  
First of all, Zacapa is one of the hottest places in Guatemala.  At first, the idea of a cold shower scared me.  However, I've been living in cold places where the water is typically colder and the mornings are typically colder.  A cold shower in Mixco is cold as you might recall from one of my journal entries about a year ago.  Cold showers in Antigua and San Antonio are about the same.  However, a cold shower in Zacapa--besides a tiny moment to acclimate the body to the water temperature such as wading into a swimming pool--is really nothing to fuss about.  In fact, it's quite welcome.

Faint of stomach will want to skip the next paragraph...

Second, I have worms...or had worms.  On the 25th, I woke up at 3:30 to go to the bathroom, and pooped out what looked like an 8-10" earthworm (along with my normal poo).  Needless to say, within 5 hours I was on anti-parasite medication.

Third, Klemente--one of my best friends who I met on my birthday last year--came to surprise me.  He is from La Union, Zacapa, but he works in Sacatepequez (currently in Sumpango).  He took some time off of work special to come up and spend some time with me and help with the clinic.  He isn't bilingual, but in the pharmacy, we mostly just need to read the Spanish labels to the people.  After about 4 or 10 medications, it becomes easy; you start recognizing the medications and what they're good for.  We found that I was best in the pharmacy because of my lack of patience.  Here is something that actually happened with me in the clinic (translated):
Doctor: Let's talk about her bloody nose.
Me: We are going to talk about the bleeding from your nose.
Patient: Yes, my nose.
Doctor: What other symptoms do you have with your bloody nose?
Me: What other symptoms do you have when your nose bleeds.
Patient: Yes, I have a bloody nose.  And my back hurts right [grimacing, as she moves to point to a spot at her back] here.
Me: No, we're talking about your nose, and your nose is not bleeding right now.  So, the back pain is not another symptom of the nose.  We want to know what you have at the same time as when your nose bleeds.  Do you have a headache?  Do you have a sore throat?  We are ONLY talking about the nose bleed.
Let's just say I was relieved when I was able to go back to the pharmacy.  It seems that my patience begins and ends with my English students.  Besides, where else can I use a toucan ring to explain medications to a 4-year old?

Klemente treated me to dinner, and then we took a walk to a school here in Zacapa where he attended middle school and high school.  I got to meet the headmaster of the school and his wife.  The interesting thing about this school is that it is, in a way, attached to the school where I work in Santiago Zamora.  Both schools are assisted by Children's Christian Concern Society, and since learning about this school, I've felt a special attachment to it.  Anyway, the bus is about ready to roll; so I guess I'll get going for now.

I am not in Honduras. (Day 457)

Although I have not heard anything directly from any of you about the Peace Corp pulling out of Honduras, I do know that some of you also read the news, and since (according to the world wide web) this story was published in some form in 463 newspapers, I can't help but imagine that some of you have heard about this and are wondering about Guatemala.  For those of you who haven't heard the news about Honduras and the Peace Corp, I offer you the following article:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/01/18/honduras-peace-corp-withdrawal_n_1212544.html

For those of you looking for a response (especially you, mom), I offer the following reply written by a Peace Corp worker here in Guatemala and echo his sentiments:  http://articles.latimes.com/2012/jan/16/opinion/la-oe-metzker-peace-corps-in-central-america-20120116

Good golly! I'm a teacher! (Day 455)

We are in the early days of the new school year here in the village.  Students (and their parents) are still wandering in to register for school.  And me?  Well, I came back prepared to teach 1st-6th grades with some ideas about what I'd do with preschool and kindergarten.  However, I received quite a surprise.

Upon arriving for the teachers' meeting on Monday, I was informed that I would be teaching 7th to 9th grade as well...alone.  Last year, I helped another teacher from time to time as well as individually taught 3 periods.  However, the school decided to let her go for reasons which I won't go into in this journal.  Fortunately, I had offered a series of English learning books that I have to the other teacher as curriculum for this year.  So, implementing the curriculum myself won't be too hard.  Unfortunately, the problem I dealt with last year was teaching the students without knowing what they had and hadn't learned.  Therefore, I stuck to mostly simple topics with a heavy focus on pronunciation.  Now that I will have the students 100% of the time, I need to evaluate where they are at in their English studies, at least on a written basis.  And while I have classes planned out for the 7th graders (assuming no or very little previous education of the language), I need to pre-test the 8th and 9th graders before I can make plans for them which means that I will have about 1 day to review their pre-exams, find some sort of happy medium between the top students and the bottom students in each grade, and plan an entire year's worth of lessons.  I know that to some teachers that might sound a little unnecessary, but for me, if I don't plan the whole year (or at least three of our four terms) now, I'll allow the students to drag in their lessons telling myself, "Well, I didn't have anything planned for next week yet; so they can just continue this then."  This would become a vicious cycle for me, and when I have to write exams, I would have very little to test them on which would result in a lot of points based on very little information.

Elementary school started this week, but as I'll be spending the next week in Zacapa translating for Children of the Americas, I'm not starting English classes officially until January 30th.  I'll have 3 morning periods (40 minutes each) with the elementary students in 3/4th and 5/6th grades on each of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.  The 1/2nd graders will receive English on Mondays and Wednesdays, and the Preschoolers/Kindergarteners will receive English on Tuesdays.  Monday afternoon, I'll have 1 period (30 minutes each) with each of the basico (middle school) grades.  Tuesday afternoons, I will have 1 period with the 8th graders, and 2 periods with each of the 7th and 9th grades.  And then on Wednesday afternoons, I will have 2 periods with each of the 7th and 9th graders and 3 periods with the 8th graders.  (I could have had 2 each Tuesday and Wednesday, but the social studies teacher didn't want to leave a half hour later on Tuesday or come in a half an hour earlier on Wednesday. Yes, that was a co-worker grumble. Making a schedule isn't very easy, and to be completely fair, my class would still be interrupted by recess even if he would switch; so the 2 periods together wouldn't be a reality anyway.)

A Fond Farewell (Day 447)

Today the world says goodbye to a great man.  He is a man who fought against poverty in the Great Depression, against Axis powers in World War II, to win the hand and heart of the woman he loved, to build a business from the ground up, to raise five children, for the American economy, to achieve all that he ever dreamed, and to live (and die) how he wanted.  This man is my grandfather.

I remember my grandfather differently than most people, probably than anyone.  Grandpa and I had different experiences together than he had with the rest of his family members.  I lived in his apartment for 5 months (back in 2008 and 2009); he was, at the time, "dying."  You have to realize that I believed that to be complete poppycock, and that he just died this morning is proof that I was right. I also attended church with him for the greater part of the last 4 years, and I tend to think of his church as my church even though I'm not a member there.  (They are my sending church and through whom my fundraising is collected.)

I described my grandfather last night as a bouncy ball.  You are likely familiar with the idea that if you drop, not throw, a bouncy ball, it will fall to hit the floor and come back, but not quite as high.  My grandfather's health has been that ball over the past who knows how many years.  My very first memory of my grandfather is from when I was about six years old.  He, my brother, and I were going on an outing.  I'm not sure if we were going to the circus, the fair, or maybe just out to eat.  We had a vehicle with a bench seat (perhaps his old pickup truck which he eventually gave to our cousin Sarah), and Justin and I were seated next to my grandfather.  I remember my grandfather explaining a little bit about the car to my brother.  He said something about how if anything should happen to him (Grandpa) while driving that all my brother had to do--and do quickly!--was to get our grandfather's foot off the accelerator, that the vehicle would slow before too long.  Perhaps my grandfather has been bouncing for the greater part of my lifetime, but it didn't become obvious until the last few years how low that ball was bouncing.  He has always said to "Spend each day as though you'll live forever, but keep your bags packed."  Basically, live as sin-free as humanly possible, ready to meet your Savior, but don't dwell on death.

I wrote a poem in March.  I wrote it about my grandfather and the wife (who died a few years ago) of a friend.  I would like to share that with you here:

Immortal
By Annalisa Simmer

Death is a funny thing.
All bodies die,
But not everybody dies.
Some people--
Many, in fact--
Are immortal.
We do not truly die...
At least not for a long time after we are dead.
Every photograph with a name scribbled on the back,
Every memory,
Every family story passed down from generation to generation,
Every life changed,
Every heart touched...
We do not die at our deaths;
We are only judged as to how we have influenced the world.

I don't cry today because my grandfather is not dead.  His soul is in Heaven with God, and who he was--his influence on the world--lives on.  I may no longer be able to give him hugs and introduce him to new people, but otherwise, nothing has changed.  I still hear his words of wisdom in my head.  I still hear the stories of his childhood as I read them written down.  I can still go visit him (or his earthly remains).  I can still see him in my photos.  And, most of all, I can continue to love him.

Anyway, this entry gets put in my blog because my grandfather has long been a supporter of my mission work.  He has taken every chance to tell me that he's proud of the work I'm doing in Guatemala.  From a man who I love and respect so very much, it was an honor to hear that.  I know he missed me.  I'm well aware that there are others among my family and friends who miss me as well.  It was my grandfather's support--letting me know how proud he was of what I'm doing--which has helped me along.  The man with the biggest pull in my life is the one who gave me his blessing and love to go do what I do.  For that, I--and those whose lives I have touched in Guatemala--are grateful.

Dear Grandpa,
Thanks for being who you've been.
Love,
Annalisa

Dear God,
Keep taking care of him as You have been.
Love,
Annalisa

The Ending of a Year and the Start of the Next (Day 437)

(Admittedly, not one of my better titles.)

Here I sit on New Year's Eve posting an update from the frigid north of my parents' house.  Due to a various number of factors, it was decided to spend the holidays in the States this year.  I head back to Guatemala on January 11th.

Today marks the completion of my first calendar year in Guatemala, and in just a few days, we'll mark the one-year anniversary of my work in the department (their version of "state") of Sacatepequez.  I have learned a lot in the past year: how to navigate Antigua, how to speak Spanish fluently, how to ride the bus all by myself (to Antigua, Ciudad Vieja, Santiago Zamora, and San Antonio), the cost of bread, how to make friends, how to drive a motorcycle, how to run my own home, and how to teach English (I think).  There's still a lot I have left to learn including cooking Guatemalan cuisine, telling off men, finding a good housemate, taking care of a chicken, and raising more support in the States as--since the debacle with the hogar--I have relied almost completely on my grandfather's church, small as they are.

Not every battle is an uphill one.  There are some things I take to more easily than others.  I believe that learning to cook Guatemalan food and raising my chicken will be the easier of my list of five things.  But I struggle with asking people for money, getting along with people who don't have the same logic-directed mentality that I do, and hurting feelings.  So, my prayer wishlist for myself for the next year contains all these things.  Thanks for your continued love and support.  Happy New Year (and a belated Merry Christmas)!

God's Puzzle Coming Together Little by Little (Day 424)

It's amazing watching God slide all the pieces into place.  What happened last night was a puzzle at least 4.5 years in the making, but even with how I write, I'm not sure I can articulate exactly what happened using my normal writing style.  Sorry.

Who (major characters):
Annalisa--yours truly
Christina--A friend I worked with during my first two mission trips to Guatemala (2007 and 2008) who needed to do an internship in a foreign country and is currently staying at my house while she does said internship here in Guatemala
Mama Conny--A woman who lives in San Antonio where I live and works at Caoba Farms in Antigua...where Christina is doing her internship

Problem:
Mama Conny has cervical cancer.  She needs to have a hysterectomy.  She found someone who can do it for Q5,000 (about $650).  She earns about Q60/day (according to Christina) and works 6 days/week.  (Although, based on my own calculations, I think she makes closer to Q90/day.)  She plans on losing her job based on the minimum 8 week recovery time.  So, this woman has been saving up her money for months to have this surgery to be saved from cancer with the expectation that she will be unemployed afterwards.

God sliding pieces:
Christina struck up a friendship with most of the people at the farm.  Conny invited us to dinner the other night.  Christina invited Conny and her youngest daughter for tea and bread last night.  I happened to be in the house but hiding out because I wasn't feeling well.  (I've got a sore throat and other fun symptoms of the dry season.)  However, I overhead the word matriz.  Now, I've been helping out Henry and Children of the Americas enough already that I know that word when I hear it.  I'm a massage therapist, not a gynecologist, but this is a word I recognize in Spanish.  I didn't hear all of the problem (as it is listed above), just that she had plans to get this surgery but was saving money for it.  I came out of hiding and asked some questions about when she was planning on having it done.  Where?  How?  Henry told me to be on the lookout for anyone who needed help.  Conny definitely qualifies.  I got online to send him a message and ask about details, and he was here online.  Mama Conny will be going to Zacapa in January to receive a free hysterectomy by some of the top doctors in the United States.

Yay God. :)

Safe and Sound (Day 415)

This is just a quick update to let you know that I have returned safe and sound from Caserio El Paraiso.  I've been spending the last few days busy with other things and today I worked on editing some of the film I shot to have English subtitles.  Tomorrow I will likely post a much larger entry about the place, but I still have a lot of research to do and will likely travel back to the caserio (hamlet or country house...that gives you an idea of how small these "villages" are) once more before I head back to the States.

"Please Help Us" (Day 408)

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to meet the parents of the young man--Edgar--who sells me cat food in the market.  His parents, Camilo and Cristina, as well as the rest of his family are from Casario el Paraiso in the department of Solala.  Because I am operating under the title of "missionary," his parents, who are pastors, thought that I might know more missionaries to help out their ever-growing ring of villages with needs.  In all fairness, I believe this couple could be called "missionaries" in their own country, their own department, their own village.

And I do know missionaries, but most of them are already doing some sort of mission where they are and aren't really looking to expand to other locations (just because it's hard to be in two places at once).  So, we got out into the parking lot of the market to have a chat away from the prying ears of the market. (Interestingly, one of my current English students saw me and asked me today all about the people I was with in the market.  So much for privacy, huh?)  They told me about the conditions of the people in their area and told me what their dreams were for these people.  I finally had to stop them and ask some specific questions.

A: How many families are we talking about?
C&C: 5...10...probably 50.
A: How do you get from 5 to 50 so fast?
C&C: Well, it's about 5 families in each of the 10 communities. (They had been multiplying...not counting.)
A: So, what you're looking for is essentially a 2-step process.  First, you're looking for money to meet the immediate need of malnutrition...
C (hesitantly): Yes.
A: And second, you're looking for people to come in and teach these people skills that they can use to raise money?
C & C: Yes

They went on to tell me that they were the people everyone came to when they needed help: rides to the hospital--very far away--to deliver babies, stomach pain, etc.

A: There is no doctor.
E: No.
A: There is no dentist.
E: No.
A: Like...none at all?
E: No.  There is no one with training.

And, of course, I can go and teach massage therapy which is what I will likely do for at least one woman in each community.  (Praying!)  However, they need much more than that.  There is, however, a very big problem.

A: The people in the community...they only speak Kachiquel. (This was a statement/question which arose from the observation that even though both his mother and father could speak Spanish with me, they sometimes directed their response to their son in Kachiquel who would then tell me in Spanish.  It indicated that while they could speak Spanish, they were much more comfortable using a translator.)
E: Yes.
A: They don't speak Spanish?
E: There are some that understand Spanish mostly, but they only speak Kachiquel.

This presents an obvious problem.  Even if I can bring in Americans/foreigners to work with this village, the number of people who are fluent in both Kachiquel and English are very limited.  I know two (and I know of a third).  The number of professionals who speak both English and Spanish (and would want to take on something like this) is pretty limited as well.  Therefore, to train these people to either have a new skill or turn an existing skill into a business would be quite complicated:
The professional would explain something in English. Someone would translate that into Spanish.  Someone else would translate that into Kachiquel so that the person would hopefully understand.  If the trainee had a question, they would ask it in Kachiquel.  Someone else would translate that into Spanish.  Someone else would translate that into English, and the professional would answer what we hope is the question after a multi-lingual game of telephone.
To have someone who could translate from Kachiquel to English (and viceversa) would be incredibly useful in a situation like this as questions for clarification would not get lost in translation.

I currently have a vocabulary of about 20 words and phrases in Kachiquel.  Edgar's English is a bit better, but not by much.  (Spanish is a second language for both of us.)  So, for the next 18 days--until I fly to the United States--we are committing ourselves to learning the native language of each other.  (I will obviously not be fluent at the end of this time, but I certainly hope to be able to hold my own in idle chitchat.)  Furthermore, I will be traveling to Casario el Paraiso on Tuesday to meet with families in 5 different places, to discuss options, hopes, and dreams with them along with taking photos and cataloging some stories.

What I need from you:

• Prayers of safe travel for Tuesday
• Prayers for the people in this area
• Prayers for volunteers from the States who are interested in committing time to teaching these people
• Prayers for the language studies of Edgar and myself
• Ideas and options for the people of this area
• Use of whatever contacts you have to try to identify people who would/could commit time to teaching these people
• Share.  Share this journal (http://twinklette.livejournal.com) and share this journal entry.  Get the word out.

Man on the Bus: Day 408

(I'm already deciding that I'm not fond of blogspot.  I wrote this whole entry once already and blogspot lost it.  It just means that I'll have to take more precautions.)


Yesterday as we left San Antonio and headed for Antigua, there was a man on the bus who walked up to the front where the driver is.  He didn't walk like most of the rest of us walk; he was sort of dragging his legs and used his arms a lot to keep him upright.  I suppose he could have been drunk, but I think he more likely had some sort of motor problem.

Upon arriving at the front of the bus, he proceeded to block the stairway, talk to the driver, and mess with the instruments that he could reach...and even some that he couldn't really reach.  This bothered me.  I live in the highlands of Guatemala, 4000 feet above sea level.  It is one thing to put my life--on these mountainous windy roads--in the hands of two--the driver and his helper--burly Guatemalan men.  It was another to unwillingly have my life put in the hands of a man who lacks motor control should he suddenly grab and yank the steering wheel.  To be honest with you, I was scared.  To be further honest with you, I was hoping the driver would kick the man off the bus.

However, as we reached the entrance/exit to San Antonio, the driver stopped the bus and wrestled the man off, and we drove off, my feelings slightly changed.  To see the man laying there on the ground holding his knee, I wondered if the driver had even tried to explain the dangers that this man was putting us all in, that the man needed to sit down (as there were seats available).  I couldn't help but think that maybe the man wasn't treated fairly.

But I was glad that my life was back in the hands of people I more-or-less trusted.

Journal change

It's not so much a change as a backup, a spare copy.  Today I have had considerable trouble trying to get on livejournal, and in the interest of not losing at least my posts from Guatemala, I've decided to start blogging in two places when possible (and filling in the gaps later when not possible).  So, from here on out, I will try to maintain my previous blog at http://twinklette.livejournal.com and this journal.  The format will be a little bit different with this blog and may be easier to read, but I'll leave that up to you to decide.

Jonathan's first birthday party (Day 392)

I once had to do this thing about strengths and weaknesses for a class.  We were supposed to make our own lists, and then we were supposed to ask a family member, a friend, and an acquaintance to make lists about us as well.  On my mother's lists--yes, both of them--she put the word "sensitive."  I suppose I am.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the 1st birthday party of a little boy.  He is the grandson of my ex-next-door neighbor.  (My ex-next-door neighbor is an amazing woman, by the way, but because of the economy, she had to go live with her daughter.)  Now, the boy's mother has four children.  Her husband vanished on the family about a year ago, maybe longer.  Anyway, I have worked hard to develop a good relationship with the family, especially Jonathan David (the baby).  At first, I was this scary white person, but after a while, I was the only one--besides his mother--who he wanted to spend time with.  The family started calling me his madrina which literally means "godmother."

So, last week, they invited me to his birthday party, and my ex-next-door neighbor/good friend, Donya Juana, told me (in Spanish), "Come here right after church. Don't even go to your house first."  Ideas: (a) They are excited about the party and church in Antigua goes a little late, (b) They are going to rob my house, (c) The party was actually for me at my house and they wanted some warning before I got there by sending me hiking up the side of the mountain first.  And, yes, the ideas actually came to me in that order.

So, I headed to Antigua early yesterday to buy a present for the boy before church.  It was a blue toy motorcycle, and I paid Q30 for it (all wrapped and with a bow).  Besides my bus fare home, it was the last of my money for quite a while.  But was it ever worth it...

When I got to the house, I found out it was the first present that the baby had ever received.  (His sisters would go to look for something else for him later that evening as they walked me home.) But what got to my sensitive side more than that was that the baby's mother didn't have any pictures of her son.  I had brought my camera, and she became very interested in this.  "How do you get the pictures off of the camera?"  She has pictures of all of her other children, but none of her baby boy.  When I think of some of the people I know who have monthly facebook albums of their kids as babies or when I even consider my own babyhood, I found this really striking.  I must have taken 20 pictures of little Jonathan yesterday as well as at least one good picture of each of his siblings.

Yesterday's mission job: photographer
And if there was any doubt in your mind, yes, the family is receiving pictures for Christmas.

Guatemalan Elections (Day 385)

This is my second post today.  Look for the other down below.

This post is actually a two part post as well.  The first part I wrote on September 12th or so and never posted.  The second part, I'm posting live-ish.

September 12
"Guatemala had its first round of presidential elections on September 11.  The idea of voting on a Sunday seemed quite odd to me at first, but I suppose it is when the most people have to opportunity to go to the polls.  There is no absentee voting, and people sometimes wait in line over 3 hours to vote.  Due to the number of political parties here in Guatemala, these were just the presidential primaries to narrow the vote down to two candidates, but for other offices (mayor, congressperson, and delegation to the Central American convention, among others), this was it.  Those of us who could not vote, prayed.  We prayed that the Guatemalan people would make the right choice for this country, that the polls would not be corrupted or compromised, and that no violence would break out.  But to be fair, perhaps the most wonderful part about elections is that the political ads stop."

Today
Yesterday, we had the final elections here in Guatemala.  Again, those of us who could not vote prayed.  We prayed for safety, honesty, fairness.  And we prayed that God's will be done at the voting booths.  People held very serious concerns about both candidates.  They said that Otto Perez Molina was going to bring back the killing of Mayan people, and they said that Manuel Baldizon is receiving money from drug cartels and would do nothing to stop narcotrafficking in Guatemala.  An article I read said that with 96% of the votes counted, Otto Perez had 55% of the votes.  For further details, I'll provide the following link: http://www.seattlepi.com/news/article/Retired-Guatemalan-general-leads-race-for-pres-2254859.php (I would like to point out that the reporter's name is Perez.  I'm hoping it's just coincidence.)

A Perspective on Living in a Third-World Country (Day 385)

Just to let you know, there will be another post later today as well.

Someone asked me last night about my perspective on living in a third-world country, and to be quite frank with all of you, it's probably not the image most of you have in your head.  Yes, there is extreme economical poverty...in places of the country.  However, there is also economical wealth.  A Guatemalan fellow who I went on a pair of dates with is currently on his family's annual trip to Disney World.  That's right...every year, the family (somewhere between 6 and 10 people) gets visas for the United States, buys plane tickets, and stays at Disney World (yes, Florida) for a week.  But it can be more subtle as well.

As told to D.D. last night: "I have a large metal double door to my house. That door leads to a corridor with the door on one end and a gap to my courtyard on the other, an 'exterior' wall on one side, and three rooms on the other side. Each room has a stained glass window and a door. The roof over the three rooms and the corridor is lamina, and I have red clay floors. I have running water, a heater in my shower (although, it's currently broken...should be fixed tomorrow), electricity, and drainage.

My next-door neighbor has two 'walls' of lamina around her property (one of block, the one she shares with me), and I'm not sure if she has a wall along the back of her property. Her floors are all dirt. The walls of her actual house are made of sticks as is her roof; rain regularly enters during the rainy season. She has electricity and cable TV."  I imagine she has running water as well, but I don't know that for a fact.

Now, that's here in San Antonio Aguas Calientes, a 30-minute bus ride (direct) from Antigua where all the tourists are.  We have water 24 hours per day and 7 days per week.  If you go 30-45 minutes north of Antigua to Santo Domingo Xenacoj (does not have a direct bus connection to Antigua), they do not have water 24 hours/day, 7days/week.  I believe they only have water in the mornings and for an hour in the evening, but I'd have to get that verified; I know it's not 24/7.

Up in villages near Coban--I couldn't even tell you how far from here that is, maybe a 6 hour drive in a private shuttle?--I met a girl who didn't wear pants to school because she didn't own any and the family couldn't afford any.  So, she went in a t-shirt and underpants.  I met a woman who cared for her three grandsons.  Every day, the family had a "soup" made of 3 beans and a grain of rice.  The woman gave each boy a bean with his "soup" and ate the piece of rice with hers.  Yes, I've personally met hunger here in San Antonio, but the idea of that sort of self-control when one has so little in their stomach is awe-inspiring.

"Now, in a week or two, I'll be heading out--well-chaperoned--to Zacapa. I'm not sure what conditions I'll find out there. However, the farther you get from the tourism centers, the more obvious the poverty becomes.  Yes, I live in a third-world country, but I have electricity, internet, running water, etc. If I had a TV, I might use cable TV (but I just don't watch much TV)."

Change (Day 380)

When I came to Guatemala, I was not a teacher.  When I came to Guatemala, I didn't speak Spanish all that well.  When I came to Guatemala, I was not entirely comfortable with the idea.  (However, I was sure that it was the direction for my life.)  When I came to Guatemala, I could count all my Guatemalan friends on one hand.

Besides being sure of the direction of my life, all that has changed.  I'm proud to be a survivor.  I certainly couldn't have done it without the support of all of you, and I certainly couldn't have done it without all the good people that God has put in my life down here.  I'm still not entirely the person I need to be, but I'm working on it.  Thanks for your confidence in me and your love for me and your faith in God.  (Or, for those of you who read this and aren't the least bit religious, thanks for believing I could make it this far.  I love you guys too. :) )

A Revelation (Day 376)

I seriously didn't see this coming, but it has hit me, and I'm not 100% sure how I feel about it.

I am a status symbol.

Yes, you read that correctly.  I mean, I didn't notice it in the last year, but today something happened that really made me take note.  I had a co-worker offer to take me home on his motorcycle.  Since I barely have enough for bus fare until Wednesday when I will cash my check from today, I accepted.  (Hey, that's 9 more pieces of bread and 2 tortillas! Or, if you want to split it up more evenly, 6 pieces of bread and 6 tortillas!)  He offered to take me home--to my house--for lunch during the middle of the day, but I turned him down for various reasons.  However, when he took me home after work, I noticed something funny.  I had never ridden with this guy before, but every time that he passed a group of people (especially males), he would give them a thumbs up.  I've only ever seen this when people are taking pictures.  However, his thumbs up was a little past center, as if he was pointing behind himself with his thumb.  And when we got to San Lorenzo del Cubo where he lives, he wanted to take me to see the church in the center of town...even though I've been to San Lorenzo once with my Guatemalan brother.  When you add it all up: He wanted people to see me on the back of his motorcycle.  I won't be riding with him again since the school where we both teach closed today, but he still wanted to be seen with me.

I am a status symbol.  And there's no good way to explain how I feel.  It's not that it's okay with me, but it's more that I just don't mind or don't care.  If it is important to them, fine.  It's not important to me, and I think I should probably go back to being oblivious to it (while still understanding that it exists).

Special Anniversary Post (Day 372)

I know this is a bit delayed; however, there's a good reason for it.  Sadly, it's going to be a bit more delayed while I go and get the bread for my dinner.  But there will be a real post here by tonight.

--<>@<>--

Apologies.  The neighbor boy came over and wanted to debate with me for...2.5 hours and then go home and debate by phone for an hour.    You can expect this update tomorrow sometime.

--<>@<>--

Okay, here it is. (FINALLY!) The past year has been a grand learning experience for me hashed out of a lot of good experiences and a few bad experiences.  There are lessons that I have learned but still haven't applied, and there are lessons that I have yet to learn as well.

Worst moment of the past year: Being told that I would receive nearly nothing of the money I raised for my upkeep when I was asked to leave the Hogar.

Best moment of the past year: My students.  (Is that not a moment?)  I hear very often that they want me to continue as their English teacher.  However, I suppose the best moment was when I was working with my normal group of missionaries in the school where I normally teach every week.  I took a few weeks off to translate for the group.  And in the school where I work, they customarily give each person on the mission team a few gifts to remind them of the country/their time here/ect.  I received only one gift (while most people received 5-7 gifts).  I will admit that I was a little upset.  I mean, there's a lot that I don't have here in Guatemala, and I could really use some help every now and again.  I thought if anyone was going to help me that it would be my own students, and when they gave me just one thing, I felt like they didn't want me there.  However, after I finished translating, the head principal of the school came up to me and let me in on a little secret: the students didn't want to give me anything.  It wasn't because they didn't like me; it was because when they give things to the people in the missions groups, those people leave.  My students actually asked if they could give me nothing because they didn't want me to leave.  (They were overruled because the principal didn't think it would be fair if I received nothing while I had worked all week.)

Best take-away lesson: I'm now bilingual.  Granted, I speak my second language like an 8- or 10-year old, but it's just missing a few pieces now.

Worst take-away lesson: My English (spelling) has suffered.

My typical day/week: There's really nothing typical about it.  I came down here to do one thing, and then life changed.  So, I just sort of made myself available where needed.  One day I can be introducing two similarly-focused missionaries to each other so that they can help one another out.  Another day, I can be picking oranges for a neighbor.  Another day, I might be debating the finer points of the Bible (in Spanish!).  Another day, I might be untangling thread for a different neighbor whose eyes are too bad to see anything smaller than her weaving.  Another day, I might be translating for a mission group.  Another day, I might be giving massages.  The common thread to all days is that I'm typically teaching English.  So, baring incredible amounts of irregularity in my schedule, here is my "typical day."

6:00 am: wake up, get water heating up for breakfast, let my chick out into the courtyard so that she can look for bugs and other interesting things to eat, wash some clothes and hang them on the line so that they'll dry by mid-day
6:20 am: shower
6:45 am: dry off, get dressed
6:55 am: make milk (remember that water I was heating up?), eat breakfast of hard cookie-like bread and hot milk, put the chick back into its box in my room, let the cats out, feed the cats and dog.
7:00 am: go to the bus to go to work (when I'm working in Antigua...like I said, there is no "typical"), do my daily devotional on the bus
7:50 am: buy the newspaper
8:00 am: start work
11:00 am: finish work, run errands (if in Antigua)
12 noon-ish: catch the bus to San Antonio Aguas Calientes (a.k.a. "home"), read the newspaper
12:45: arrive home, start soup cooking, take a nap
2:15 pm: wake up from nap, eat lunch (soup)
2:30 pm: Find a neighbor who needs help (usually, they find me)
4:30 pm: walk the dog/buy bread for dinner and tomorrow's breakfast
5:00 pm: return home, spend some time reading the Bible
6:00 pm: start cooking more soup for dinner, play computer games/knit/sew
7:30 pm: eat soup (dinner) with bread
8:00 pm: debate theology with the neighbor boy (this has become part of my "typical" day within the past week)
10:00 pm: send the neighbor boy home because his mother has called and is worried about him, check e-mail, catch up on facebook, sometimes read news in English
12 midnight: SLEEP!

This is actually more like a Frankenstein's monster of my typical day, but it will have to do.  And, of course, whenever I find just a spare second in my day, I'm hoping on the computer so that I don't stay up so late at night.  That 1.5 hour nap in my afternoon is because I only get 6 hours of sleep at night!  (FYI, I'm skipping dinner tonight so that I can write this, and I'm hoping that the neighbor boy's mother sends food with him.)

This year, I've also learned what hunger actually feels like.  I really don't recommend this to anyone, but it is quite the experience.  Last weekend, a missionary friend gave me breakfast and took me out to dinner.  I said, "Henry, this is crazy.  I have just eaten more calories in one meal (dinner) than I typically eat in one week...maybe two."  And yes, I felt really sick the next day from eating too much food.

My students graduate tomorrow.  I'm excited...and proud.

Mission Moment: October 2011 Newsletter

At the time of writing this, I have been back in Guatemala for about two weeks, and it has been quite a wonderful two weeks for quite a few reasons. First of all is due to a new partnership that I have. Back in 2004 (September 8 to be exact), I started reading The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren, a 40-day journey into figuring out what God has planned for your life. My reading partner was my then best friend and later fiance. However, sometime around day 17 we had a fight and stopped reading/discussing with each other. I don't know if he ever finished the book; I know I didn't. But then in late July, I was at a book fair in Antigua, and I saw the book for sale in Spanish. I have a friend, Clemente, who often talks about how God has a proposito (plan or purpose) for each of us, but I had a feeling that he didn't really know what his was. While I was in the States, I bought Una Vida con Proposito (the Spanish translation of The Purpose Driven Life) for Clemente. September 4, 2011, nearly 7 years after my first attempt, Clemente and I began reading the book; he, in Spanish, and me, in English. Please keep us in your prayers as we continue on this journey.

The second reason that this time has been wonderful is that I have really gotten settled into my new home in San Antonio Aguas Calientes. The people here have been very welcoming to me. One neighbor showed me where I should buy bread and later let me know that the people charged me what they charge her. For me, that is extremely heartening as it means I am not viewed as an outsider in the community. Although, I will admit that I overheard my neighbors telling all their friends about the new canchita (light-haired person) living in the neighborhood. I have had a few visitors, and I hope to open a little English school on the 20^th of September. Please keep the success of my school in your prayers as well. English provides opportunities for better employment to the people of San Antonio which means better nutrition for their children and, ideally, the opportunity to have a sabbath day.

Finally, Guatemala celebrated 190 years of independence yesterday (September 15, 2011). On the 14^th, my students had a program where we celebrated all of this. We had a civic portion of the program where we sang the national anthem and said the pledge of allegiance. We recognized the students from every grade—preschool to 9^th grade—who had worked hard to be good students, upstanding citizens, and people of good character. Afterward, we had a cultural portion where the students presented songs and dances of Guatemala. The 9^th graders even presented a dance from the Garifuna culture, the Caribbean Africans who live near Livingston, Guatemala.

Please keep Clemente and I in your prayers as we continue on our 40-day journey. Please pray for the success of my little English school in San Antonio as, with God's help, I try to reach the people of San Antonio who need help the most. Please pray for my regular students as the end of their school year draws near. And finally, please pray for the recent elections in Guatemala as the new mayors and congresspeople prepare to take office and we enter into the second round of presidential elections.

Still not sure of the day...somewhere around 75.

So, here's the story:

I have left Hogar Miguel Magone. There are lots of versions why, but the one that makes the most sense to me (and will sound the most believable to friends, enemies, and complete strangers alike) is that the Hogar brought me there for one reason and I went there for another. When they found that their reason wasn't a priority on my list, they asked me to leave (rather than ask me to make it a priority). So, I am now in Antigua, Guatemala, the most cosmopolitan city in Guatemala; English is almost just as widely spoken as Spanish. So, I'm here, and I'm alive.

I'm looking for work or even somewhere to regroup. I have some funds still; I'm not completely broke. Something happened with the money, and the Hogar felt that they should be paid for every day I was there (like a hotel). They seem to be discounting the work I did every day while I was there.

Anyway, I have no hard feelings with the Hogar and hope to visit them from time to time if time and money permit. I suppose a great deal of it depends on where I end up. I still have a few leads to follow up on.

Please keep me and my work (or current lack thereof) in your prayers this next week (if you haven't been doing so all along).

I love you all and am praying for you all as well.

Day 70+

I'm not on my normal computer, and I'm not sure what day it is...as far as counting goes. We haven't had internet at the Hogar for two weeks now. (That's a long and ridiculous story. I'll tell you another time when I have more than Q12 in my pocket and am paying for every minute.) Anyway, Christmas was good and fun and special. It was great watching the fireworks explode all over Guatemala city as Christmas Eve turned into Christmas.

Just letting you all know that I'm alive and safe and have plenty of stories to tell. Blessings to all of you. :)

Day 56

I was going to post this on Saturday, but then I was too tired. Then I was going to post it on Sunday, but I was feeling a little nauseous. So, here it is on Monday.

Saturday night, Alba (our cook here) invited me and a couple boys to go to a fiesta (party/celebration) in the village with her. It was a traditional celebration, something about the Virgin. It included a shrine, a parade, fireworks, and food. I think it's a typical Latin American thing. Anyway, after a little hassle getting permission for the boys to go and then after changing boys a couple times, we set out for the party. When we got there, there were people dancing in a circle wearing costumes. It reminded me a lot of the dances of the older people at pow-wows, but the costumes these people were wearing were those of contemporary super heroes and cartoon characters. (This is some cultural thing I haven't yet figured out.)

After the dancing was finished, they set off some fireworks. They were literally lit about 20 feet from where I was standing...and that's only because the guy lighting them told us to move because he was going to light them right where we were standing! (eek!) And they were exploding right over our heads. Nice experience, really, but not one I want to repeat.

After we survived that, they started the parade. The shrine started in the church at 7 pm and the slow walk out the door began. We walked with it for just about 3 minutes. The boys wanted to do the whole thing, but Alba said "no." In all fairness, I didn't want to do the whole thing either. She said it would end at 3 am, but at 4 am the noise of the parade woke me up. 9 hours of walking in 40 degree weather isn't high on my agenda.

We went back to get some food. I had churrascos (a sort of meat served with tortillas and what appeared to be cole slaw) and chuchitos (sort of like a tamale...in fact, I'm not sure what the difference was), and we also had hot punch. As far as I can gather, it's their version of warm apple cider. I'll take it. :-P

When we were done eating, the boys and I walked back to the Hogar. Juan Elias kept putting his arm around me every time a vehicle passed us. I am aware that as an American female, I'm a little bit of a target around here. However, as a single American female, it is worse. So, Juan was making sure that I was as protected as I could be. Erick and Jorge were mostly oblivious to our entire walk home, but they all enjoy our trip.

Anyway, the boys are bugging me to come to breakfast; so I'll get headed out for now.

Day 54

(I've actually been mulling this post over for a few days; so some things may be lost.)

I have found that the Spanish I studied in high school and college is pretty much worthless. (No offense to any of you who might be reading this who taught me in those classes. You didn't know.) So, here is a Guatemalan Spanish lesson for all of you:

1. Agua
While "agua" still means "water," when someone offers you "agua," they might also be offering you coffee, soda pop, or juice. The word "bebida" (which means "drink") is not used and is on the verge of being archaic.

2. Chucho
For those of us who struggle with the dreaded "rr" or "rolled r," this word is a blessed relief. "Chucho" means "mutt dog," and in Guatemala, any dog I am likely to encounter will be of this variety. I am saved from using the dreaded "perro."


3. Novio
When I was originally taught this word, it meant "boyfriend." However, I was later taught that it meant something more like "fiance" and that the phrase "mi amigo" (my [male] friend) meant "boyfriend." The good news is that here in Guatemala, "novio" means boyfriend, and I don't have to tiptoe around talking about my friends.

(Okay, I'm positive I had about 5 of these. I guess I'll have to get back to all of you with the rest of these.)

Day 51

I was sitting at breakfast today trying to remember when I last updated; so I decided it was time for an update. The last 5 days have either been so slow that it wasn't worth saying much or so busy that I haven't had time to say anything. I guess the big news as of late is my two Grandes English classes. For the most part, they haven't been showing up. Yesterday, Estuardo asked me for a list of who showed up that day. In 2 classes, a total of 5 grandes had shown up, but the two in the first class just left partway through. I did not give them permission to leave. So, when Estuardo asked for a list, I gave him the names of the three boys who had come to the later class and stayed until I gave them permission to leave. My second class of Medianos is a little rough too. I have one boy who can't read or write Spanish (let alone English). He's always disrupting class and asking if he can leave and whatever else he can think of to do to curb his boredom. Not really sure what to do with him, but wringing his neck is somewhat high on the list.

Day 46 (morning)

I meant to write yesterday as it would have been half of my first 90 days, but I obviously didn't. I'm booking plane tickets back for March 9 to March 23. I'll get in LATE on the 9th, and I leave EARLY on the 23. Doing anything on either of those two days is out of the question. (Sorry, but this is mostly due to when Spirit flies in and out of Guatemala City. Nothing I can do about it.)

By the way, I thought I'd be able to write snail mail more often, but in the last 46 days, I've seriously seen a post office only once. I've seen an ATM twice.

In other news, I'm hungry. I think I might even eat frijoles for breakfast if they're my only option...

Day 43

Today wasn't the best of days, but there have been worse ones.  For example, today I bought myself a nice "new" sweatshirt for 25 cents.  It says "Animal" on it, but the letters are very stylized, and it's warm and without holes.  I also got a torn plastic shower curtain for free (with purchase of other stuff) which I'm going to use to line the litterbox.  A holey sheet (yes, you read that right; although I suppose it is technically a blanket) for another 25 cents which I hope to give to the kittens to curl up on...once they get the litter box down pat.  And I bought a nice red and pink long-sleeve shirt for 12.5 cents.  Should be good for Valentine's day, I hope.

Speaking of Valentine's day, I am planning on extending my time here beyond the minimum 3 months.  While I do have tough days (and I'll tell you about the tough part of today in a bit), I really feel like I am helping change lives.  This is not to say that I can't change lives in the United States, but it's simply more difficult as the US has a lot more regulations and, amusingly, I'm not qualified to help people out in most places in the US.  That being said, I am planning on booking my flight in the next week or so.  I've notified Orphan's Hope to send the money for the plane ticket to my account.  I'm looking at March 9 to March 23.  (Those are Wednesdays two weeks apart for those who don't want to pull out their calendars.)  The round trip will be costing me $337.46.  This is actually 2 round trips.  If I were to book a flight from Guatemala to Detroit (which would have a stop in Ft. Lauderdale), it would cost me $446.76.  Believe me, I can find something better to blow $111.30 on.

Anyway, today wasn't so hot because I had kids who didn't want to learn English.  Now, our classes have a very regular schedule.  If their "teachers" want to change when English class is because it isn't convenient for the boys, I'm very flexible.  Currently, the Peques have English from 10-10:15 am; the Medianos, in two groups, have class from 2-2:30 and 2:30-3; and the Grandes, also in two groups, have class from 4-4:30 and 4:30-5.  The Medianos are almost always late (so I rarely have that hour gap between the two), and the Grandes, at least yesterday, tend to be timely.  Today, the first group of Medianos didn't show up until it was nearly time for the second group.  The second group of Medianos left just as the first Grandes lesson was supposed to begin.  However, NEITHER GROUP of Grandes showed up at all.  So, at 4:25, I went out and asked Gloria (the older bilingual woman who is usually here on Tuesdays) why it is important to know English in Guatemala.  Good news is that she told me nothing new.  So, I went and played computer games in the classroom until 4:50 when I started packing up.  The boys know when English class is; there is a sign in their dorm telling them when it is, and it has been at that time for a week.  I'm a little annoyed, but it is ultimately their lives and their futures, and I really can't force them to learn a skill (speaking and understanding English) which can get them better jobs here in Guatemala.

In other news, Mia and Bella--my two kittens (I have a third, but I'm looking for someone who wants a kitten)--made their debut into society today.  They did pretty good; I was proud of them.  Bella even got loose (jumped down from my shirt) and didn't run away completely.

Day 42

I know it has been a long time since I last updated. It can be blamed on a few things, but I can talk about that at the end of this entry.

Yesterday was the first Sunday in Advent. Most Latin American countries have a strongly religious community. (I won't say anything about their faith as that has an interesting range, but the religious traditions are strong.) So, since Advent is religious--the road to Christmas, so to speak--they celebrated it in grand style. In the morning, we went up to the village for church. With the Salesiano group on holiday, we are no longer spoiled with our own private services. The seminarians came by and walked us with us. (Have I mentioned that I REALLY like having that seminary near us and that I'll miss them when they go back home to Colombia on December 18?)

Church was fairly uneventful. We had the usual disruptive boys problems. I'm thinking that us adults need a separate mass so that we can actually get something out of the service. There were quite a few baptisms and a children's choir. I don't know if that stuff is normal or not since this was our first Sunday in town. (I reckon that the baptisms are not normal every Sunday.)

After church, we were supposed to go down to the seminary and play on their ball courts, but that was only until noon, and since there were not only baptisms but the priest was being long-winded, we didn't get back to the Hogar until 11:45. By the time we had gotten down to the seminary, it would have been time to trudge back up the mountain. So, the guys just helped us watch the boys at our place for a little while.

After that, we just continued things around the Hogar without them. I did some correspondence work and uploaded photos from Saturday (I'll have to talk about that too) from my camera. Since Sundays are visit days, there were some parents who wanted to see pictures of their boys, but since I sort by day, not boy, that was a little difficult. Finally, the boys just gave me a day to look at and that went fine. I had some pizza for lunch (sadly, pineapple ham pizza, my least favorite), and after lunch, I played keep-away with some of the guys. They didn't really like my play style, but I'd rather wait and watch for them to mess up then to wear myself out trying to make them mess up (and maybe not succeed). Worked just fine, if you ask me, but I guess it made the game too slow for them. (Not that I was ever in the center that much anyway. Despite never being a soccer player, I can actually kick with both sides of both feet.)

Around 4:30, a group showed up to do our advent celebration. First they played a game where the leader would say a word, and the boys would have to run to grab a baton (was actually a ching-ching, but I'll save you from weird cultural words at the moment) and run back to their group. Whatever group ended up with the baton had to sing a Christmas song with that word in it. The next activity was to put on a Christmas skit. Each group had part of the Christmas story and had to act it out. They used crepe paper to make costumes. If it had been a costume contest, I would have voted for Danilo Polanco's angel costume; he made such a formidable looking angel.

After the skits, we had a parade with a nativity up the mountain to the chapel. Each group took a turn carrying it. We did some call and response sort of thing at the door. And once it was inside, they did a few more readings and a few more songs. After that, we went down to the ball court again, and they set off some fireworks for us. I'll admit that I was a little concerned being so close to the fireworks, but with metal roofs and cement walls, I guess it isn't such a big deal. Once they were done with the big ones, they gave the boys sparklers (which they call "estrellitas" or "little stars") and set off some other flare-type fireworks on the ball court. After that, they passed out some Christmas presents to all the boys. The Peques all got a wind-up car, a wind-up airplane, a spikey ball, and a bag of candy. The Medianos and Grandes each got a backpack and a cap.

Finally, it was time for dinner where we had tamales and hot chocolate. (Obviously, I didn't have the hot chocolate, but it made me wish there was some hot cider around as it was a very cold evening.) Once most everyone was done eating, Daniel came in with his guitar and played some sing-along music. It was a fun evening. If Christmas itself is half this fun, I might just make it.

****

I believe I've talked about Escuelas Abiertas before (maybe about 2 weeks ago). In case I didn't, it's basically this government funded program where the schools are open on Saturdays and Sundays during their big 3-month long break. Supposedly, the boys can go for all sorts of activities, but I haven't been that impressed by what I've seen so far. (Okay, I got to meet about 7 of the Miss Guatemala contestants, but that isn't really a big deal.)

Anyway, Saturday was their big national conference, and the Hogar was invited by the Satellite school where some of our boys attend for classes. So, we went. Daniel and I shared one of our few conversations in which we were in agreement that the event was pretty pointless. You couldn't see anything since the stage was a million miles away. You couldn't hear anything since there was talking and bands playing all around. And you couldn't really do anything.

I do have to say that they had quite the security at the conference. There were four lines for entering the facility. Two lines for men and two lines for women. Each gender had a line for people with bags and coats and those without. Since I was wearing both a coat and had a bag, I went through that line. The woman who was running security for that line asked me to open up my bag so she could look inside. She only looked in one compartment and didn't even pat down my coat pockets which were hard and bulky. About an hour later, the President (of Guatemala) walked onto the stage. This is actually the second time this week that I've been within 500 feet of the President and haven't had to go through any sort of intense security check. (The first time, there was none at all.) The President didn't stand behind bullet-proof glass, and only one guy proceeded up onto the platform before him...looking mostly at the steps in front of himself. If Obama could enjoy the privileges afforded to Colom, it would do wonders in restoring any sort of belief in America.

In the afternoon, there was a playground and a few activities for the boys. So, it was a bit better. I'll still admit that I was glad to come back to the Hogar.

******

As for being busy, it mostly comes down to the cats and my boss. I don't have the time, interest, or patience to take care of three kittens. Even two is pushing the limit. At any rate, I only have two hands, and most of the time, those are needed for typing and doing work on my computer. I can't spend all my time dragging kittens off of my keyboard. And when I get up to go to the bathroom, I have to find ways to safeguard against random typing or the computer getting shut down. Additionally, what order I take the kittens off my lap in plays a large factor in either my success or failure as some are more prone to climbing back on (and two hands vs. three kittens is a losing battle). Additionally, I can't find a lot of the kitten supplies I need in Guatemala; so I have to be creative. Sadly, I don't have the time to be creative. One of these current issues is a litter box. I have a basket of sorts (but it has holes in the bottom and sides) which has the bottom lined in plastic with a chunk of cardboard on top of the plastic. It needs dirt, and I was told by Estuardo where I could get dirt, but unfortunately, I never have the time to go get dirt for it. So, last night was a cold night as I had only a fleece blanket to wrap myself in; the kittens peed on my sheets and quilt. (Fortunately, I noticed them doing this; so I tossed them into the pee basket and put the sheets and quilt in the shower.)



My boss is apparently not happy that I spend my mornings in my room. This is not something that she has talked to me about. It is, again, an overheard conversation. However, those are mornings that I spend preparing English lessons for the day. Apparently, she thinks I should be out "helping," but the understanding which was reached before I came here was that my jobs were not with the boys.

1. facilitate faster communication between Carmen/Diane and the Hogar.
2. help organize the store
3. teach English

So, since I'm in my room working on either 1 or 3, I'm not sure what she has the right to get flustered about. If I had a key to the store, I'd work on that in the mornings, but I haven't been given one (nor have I asked for one); so I can only assume that she doesn't actually want help with that.

***

For posterity sake, I should note that on Thursday night/Friday morning, I ate Taco Bell for the first time in...forever? I am typically opposed to "fake Mexican food," but that I was eating it in Guatemala at 1 am with a 15-year old and a 20-year old Guatemalan was just too funny.

Mia "Mia" y Mas: Day 35

I'm now a single mother of two...kittens. Mia was part of a litter of three. The original idea had been to take Mia and leave the two gray tabbies to keep each other company. However, when we were getting Mia out the other day (and maybe even a day or two before that), I started to notice that there were only two kittens, not three. Now, I am absolutely positive that there were two gray tabbies and that I wasn't just seeing the same one twice.

However, with there now only being two kittens, I couldn't leave the other one to be lonely; so when we went to get Mia the other night, we were also going to get the other kitten. The stress and panic of the kittens was such that we couldn't find the other kitten after we had gotten Mia; so we decided we'd look another day. I left a little food in the room where they usually are and shut the door. Sunday was just too busy and hectic; so I went back today (about 40 hours after getting Mia) to look for her sibling. I opened up the door to the house--not to the room they had been in--and there was the other kitten. That means that she (I think) was probably without food and water for nearly 40 hours. (Although, drinking out of the toilets was a possibility.) I had little trouble getting the kitten in what I am assuming was a weakened state.

I got this kitten back to my room, and she was worse off than Mia was when I got her. Mia at least had some fight in her. This kitten didn't really want to eat or drink anything, but Mia was a great influence on her sister. I come in and sit down on the bed and hear Mia hiding somewhere where I don't want her to be; so I call out to her, and she comes climbing to see me. Her sister was pretty much too weak to perk up at seeing Mia, but there was a slight improvement. It was great to have Mia already used to me. I think the going mentality around the room right now is "Well, Mia eats the food; so I guess I can. Well, Mia drinks the water; so I guess I can. Well, Mia loves being touched by the human; so I guess I can try it too." I know that's sort of my mentality; I give the attention to Mia, and when her sister is ready for it and comes looking for it, I give it to her as well.

I'm toying with a few names for Mia's sister (if it is, in fact, a sister). One of them is "y hermana" ("and sister"), but that puts a lot of pressure on Mia. I have also considered "Kitten" since I am teaching English here (among other things I do); however, when she gets older/bigger, I don't want her to still be called Kitten, and I'm not keen on the name Cat. Granted, if the sibling turns out to be a brother, I think I'm okay with the name Cat; we'll see. (No, I don't need a biology lesson. They both look female, but they also look different from each other; so I'm reserving judgement.)

Mia "Mia"

So, for having survived a month, I hereby give myself a cat. The act of taking a cat is not something which I do lightly. While a cat could travel to the US with me, it's also something more...a decision to raise an animal in a home. So, Mia, welcome home. :)


By the way, she isn't as thrilled about it as I am, but I figured that might be the case. She was trying to find the best hiding spot in my room. Fortunately, most of them so far have been pretty lame. She hasn't yet found "under the bed."

Now, however, she's decided that my bed is her bed (which is sort of what I want considering how cold it is), but she's at the foot of it. She has also claimed the pair of socks I've been wearing to bed, but I guess that's fine since you're apparently supposed to give the cat something with your scent so they get used to you...

Day 32

I really love aguacate (avocado) trees on the mountain. They pretty much grow sideways and are pretty much amazing for climbing, taking naps on, and playing horse. We took a walk out to the campo (countryside) yesterday where the trees grow. I didn't take my camera with me or else I would have taken pictures of the trees for you all. Some of the boys picked avocados for the kitchen while we were there. Sadly, I can't really see them up in the trees...green leaves and green avocados; must be some sort of survival of the fittest.

"Official"

I probably shouldn't post this until it's actually in my possession, but I am getting a kitten! She is an adorable little sweetheart, and I plan to name her Mia. (Besides being a name in English, it is actually a Spanish word as well. It means "Mine.") She is an orange and white tabby. She also has two siblings who are gray tabbies; so if you know anyone in Guatemala who wants a kitten, I've got some to spare. (Or if you want to come and pick it up and take it back to the States, that's fine too. Cats can cross international borders very easily.)

We actually found Mia and her siblings about a week and a half ago. There were American doctors here at the time who approximated their age at 6 weeks. My friend Theresa advised not taking them from their mother until they were at least 8 weeks old; so we all just kept quiet about it. However, today the boys had to get some beds out of that room; so it was inevitable that they were found. As soon as the boys came out of the house yelling about "gatitos" ("kittens"), I knew I had to act fast. I mentioned to Estuardo (the husband of the woman who runs the home) that the American doctors had mentioned finding rats in the pharmacy while they were cleaning it out (and no, it wasn't a lie just to get a cat). It just so happens that the pharmacy is in the same part of the same building that I live in; so, if I had a cat (kitten) who I was caring for, that animal might feel like going hunting and decide to kill the rats (when it's a little bigger, yes, but for now perhaps the smell of cat will keep the rats at bay). Besides, I've always wanted a cat, one I could wake up to find laying on my head or, preferably, my stomach.

So, tomorrow Estuardo and I are going to go shopping for cat supplies. I have to say that I'm pretty excited about it all. BUT...no getting too excited until tomorrow!

Day 29 (evening)

So, when you have 52-ish boys between the ages of 2 and 15, there's apt to be some roughhousing. Yesterday, I walked out of my room to find 8-year old Mardoqueo with a cut inside of his lip about an inch long. It was technically given to him by his own teeth; however, it happened while an 11-year old was throwing a fit. This really happens more often than I would like; so I decided to do something about it. Yesterday, I started teaching the boys wrestling.

Wrestling is a sport. It's one which I was involved with my senior year of high school. Granted, as far as my weight class went back then, I was pretty lousy. However, I've got a good 50 pounds and a foot in height on most of these boys. Wrestling, unlike the brawling they've been doing on occasion when everyone's back is turned, has rules to it. They can't grab someone by the neck and throw them to the ground. In fact, they can't even choke them. (And if you honestly have control of what you're doing and of your opponent, you can even be nice and set them gently on the ground.) There's no beating on the other person until they're humiliated, bleeding and/or crying; it's just a simple 2 shoulders on the ground for 3 seconds. Comparatively, it's quite civilized.

Granted, I'd love it if they learned to work out their differences by talking, but one step at a time. Let's learn respect first, and then let's learn the difference between competition and solving problems.


(And yes, I took on two boys at once a few times tonight, but after one was pinned, he was out of the "battle." That's seriously the last time I leave my room for a band-aid, walk out of the dining hall with two sandwiches, and end up giving wrestling lessons...needing more band-aids than I left to get in the first place.)

Day 29 (continued)

Today I was a big spender. I bought a Geoffrey Hayes leather jacket with the lovely fleecy lining, a pair of size 10 heels, a calf-length black skirt, and curtains made of 100% Indian silk for two of my windows. Now all this expensive purchasing cost me a whopping Q10.






For those of you playing along at home, that's $1.25 USD.

(Yeah, someone failed to mention that I'd actually have to get dressed up from time to time. So, I didn't bring any dressy clothes, but we have first communion on Sunday, and if I'm not dressed to the nines--or at least to the fives--I'm going to hear about it. And I thought my khakis were fine.)

Day 29

I've survived 4 whole weeks here in Guatemala. This is, I think, the longest I've ever been in Guatemala at a time, but the time has flown by. I've accomplished less than I wanted to accomplish so far, but things seem to be changing.

I've started getting materials ready for teaching formal English classes, researching some methods and drawing on my own language learning experiences (of which I have plenty). The biggest problem I anticipate is phonetics. Spanish is a very easy language to read aloud. Every consonant has just one sound (and in a rare instance, a second. The only one I can think of at the moment is "g"); every vowel has just one sound. How it all sounds is very set, very specific, and you never have to guess as to how a word sounds.
Now, English on the other hand, seems to have no rhyme or reason. I started this list when I was working on phonetics with Moises this summer, and I will try to remember it for you. Just read it aloud and enjoy.

car - bar - bare - are - air - bear - ear - tear (like crying) - tear (like ripping) - pear - pare - pair

Now, go back to the bear...bear - beer- ear

What psycho thought up our language?!? It's supposedly as difficult to learn as Chinese. The only saving grace of English is that the verbs (despite all being irregular) are easy.

Spanish - caminar                                                                English - to walk
yo camino    nosotros caminamos                                I walk        we walk
tu caminas    vosotros caminais                                   you walk    y'all walk
el camina    ellos caminan                                            he walks    they walk
There's just one little change in the English!
Granted, sometimes there are two which is lovely and confusing:



Spanish - estar                                                                     English - to be
yo estoy    nosotros estamos                                           I am       we are
tu estas    vosotros estais                                                 you are    y'all are
el esta    ellos estan                                                         he is      they are
So, yes, I expect my biggest problems to be with phonetics.

Anyway, off to go be a productive member of our society!

Day 27

Today, Christian Josue and I talked to an old man who informed us that the administration of Alvaro Colom is one of socialism. He went on to note that while it is a socialist government, it is not a communist one. Furthermore, he stated that it was the first socialist government which was not communist in the history of the world.

Sorry, America, you're just not socialist enough to compete. Try a few more health care reforms.

Day 26

Mostly I'm posting to let you all know that I'm okay. I think I'll chalk the whole week up to being rough; although, there have been some nice spots.

On Thursday, Karen (my "boss"), Estuardo (her husband), and Maria Andrea (their daughter) came back from their vacation in the US. The rest of that day was just a mess. Anyone who could find a way to avoid Karen did. She spent the afternoon walking around the hogar saying how things were done wrong and how she couldn't trust anyone to do anything right while she was away; then she would continue by saying how much she had to get done. I took a lot of the brunt of this and it really hurt. The biggest problem, as I see it, is that she didn't give clear directions to everyone who needed to be involved in what she wanted done.

Yesterday, Friday, we took the kids (and a good chunk of village kids) to IRTRA. It is a Guatemalan amusement park; however, that's only about half of it. The other half is a zoo (and I'm not talking about the kids!). I saw a jaguar, lion, and puma yesterday! (No tigers.) A good deal of it is actually birds. Jean (one of the American volunteers) and I asked one of the boys if there were Quetzals (the national bird) in the zoo. He told us there were, but we never saw any and forgot to ask him about them again later. I actually rode a few rides as well. (The coasters weren't as big and crazy as those in the States, but it's still odd to think of getting me on a coaster.) My biggest problem is that they don't allow glasses or hats on the rides. On one of them, I had put my hat on my belt loop, and they made me stick my glasses in my pocket; however, on another they actually made me pass my glasses off to someone else. (Fortunately, when you go to the park with over 100 kids, there's usually SOMEONE in line that you know!)
After lunch, I spent my time with David (the 22-month old...who I should probably post a picture of sometime for you all; it's not like I don't have plenty!). We walked around for quite a while, and then people started asking us (me) to hold stuff for them while they were on certain rides. The only trick to this was that they had to find us because David was busy exploring the world. I carried Daniel's backpack and hat the rest of the day. I finally got tired of walking around with David; so I suggested a ride. We went on the ferris wheel (only 8 seats on it). He wasn't a big fan of it and started fussing; so I put him on my lap. After about once around, he just fell asleep. After that, I took him on the train because he's just a touch heavy to want to stand around with. Then I went and got an ice cream and sat on a bench and ate it. Finally, I decided to start walking toward the entrance, but I found Alba (our cook) with her daughter Migdalia; so we sat with them for a while while Migdalia ate her ice cream (and shared it with David). When Migdalia finished, she went and rode an airplane ride 3 times in a row, and afterward we started heading toward the entrance as a group. We did stop and do one more ride on the way out. It was these little semi-trucks which went around a track (it was a ride, but the kids had ineffective steering wheels and effective horns). Migdalia and David rode it together. Last stop was the bathroom before our 2 hour ride home in traffic. (We left the park around 4 pm and got back to the hogar around 6...definitely rush hour traffic through the capital.)
I was tired and didn't feel like standing up for the trip home; so I got Kevin (one of the medianos) to give me his seat if I let him sit on my lap. It was a deal, and I slept for the first hour of the ride. Kevin and I played "I spy" for the second half.

Other good things which have happened are the possibility of me getting a kitten. There is a feral mother and her three kittens near here, and they're pretty much adorable. The home gets "useless" stuff like donations of cat food; so, I don't expect a huge cost in supplies. I still need to talk it over with Karen, but I have a few things around here that I'm doing to make things more efficient (i.e. put her in a good mood) and there are a few sanitary concerns which came to attention during the gringos visit which a cat could help with; so, I'm hoping to find my kitten a job here. She's an orange tabby, and I'm still looking for a name for her before I bring her home. (She's also only 7 weeks old; so I'm waiting another week at least before even thinking about moving her here.) Anyone have any name suggestions for a female Guatemalan orange tabby?

oh wow...what a day

I wouldn't be posting about today if I didn't feel I had supporters out there reading. As Daniel and I closed the gates today, he asked me how my day was, and I replied "loco" ("crazy"). He admitted he was tired as well.

Today we had a woman (gringa) break her arm around lunchtime. Now, it is bad enough that Karen and Estuardo aren't here to deal with the emergency, but the only support staff around (besides me who feels slightly culturally inept still) were Naneth (the psychologist) and Juana (one of the teachers). Daniel was out driving Jennifer around. So, not only were we a little out of our league, the mission leader wasn't even around. Jennifer has a phone, but no one knew what the number was. So, we asked Naneth for Daniel's number to get a hold of Jennifer. (The only non-stressful thing about all of this was that we had at least 2 doctors (maybe 3), about 3 nurses, a wheelchair, and plenty of thoughtful and attentive people.) Anyway, Daniel and Jennifer came back and took the woman to the hospital where she was diagnosed with a compound fracture to her left arm. She needs to get surgery tomorrow.
So, the group had to change some flight plans and figure out who was going back with the woman. Additionally, the bus which was supposed to pick them up at 6 wasn't showing up. To make matters worse, Jennifer's phones (she has two) were receiving calls but not sending them. It kept saying that she was dialing the wrong number. So, not only could she not make calls, but she couldn't check her e-mail either. So, I pulled out the laptop and my phone and handed them over. It was quite the evening with phones ringing while she talked to someone or another with mine and the internet being as indecisive as usual. A bus finally did come to pick them up around 7:45 pm.

So, in all the craziness of today, I got a flu vaccine (which I had planned to get before leaving the States but got that horrible cold on Sunday evening), took some pictures, and hopefully found a kitten I can adopt (to keep the bugs down in my room and also because I've always wanted a cat). (I need to run that by Karen first, but I think I'm ready for it.)

Day 21 (morning)

How to take a shower

1. Sit in your cold room for about an hour replying to e-mails and facebook posts (so the water doesn't seem so cold)
2. Get undressed, put on your shower shoes, and wrap yourself in your towel (you'll want it later)
3. Leave your room and go to the shower room (the best place to take a shower)
4. Hang your towel on the hook furthest from the shower head (so it doesn't get too wet)
5. Turn the water on strong enough so that the water is diverted to the secondary (mobile) showerhead (so you can direct the water where you want it.
6. Turn down the water (so that there is not enough water running through that the overhead still runs)
7. Get your hand ready to rub anything that you plan to wash (the friction of the hand will keep it from being quite so cold)
8. Shower (getting only what you want to clean wet)
9. Turn off shower (water is a big expense)
10. Wrap your towel around you and get out of there.
11. Scurry back to your room and crawl under your fleece blankets for about 15 minutes (to defrost)
12. Get dressed.

Things to not do while taking a shower:

• Wash your hair if it doesn't need it. (If it does, bend over so that the water does not run down your face, neck, back, etc.)
• Shave (unless the act of shaving will allow you to wait longer until your next shower)
• Brush your teeth (the water isn't safe for that)
• Stand close while trying to figure out the system.

Please note that these directions apply to normal living in Guatemala and should not necessarily be used when considering all accommodations in Guatemala.

brr...! Here in Guatemala (at least where I'm at), the temperature during the day keeps between a comfortable 60 to 80 degrees; however at night, it can dip down into the 50s and maybe lower, although the boys aren't acquainted with snow.

Here in Guatemala, while they have glass windows in many places, the windows are not typically sealed/caulked/whatever allowing cockroaches, spiders, and the cold to come in around the edge. (A rough hole size is cut out of the cement blocks--at least it's cement here at the Hogar--with a saw or a machete, and the window is placed into that space and screwed to stay.)

So, here in Guatemala, I tend to be cold at night. Tonight I'm trying out a new sleeping configuration using BOTH of the fleece blankets I brought. That said, I will wish you all sweet dreams as I bury myself (and my frozen fingers and toes) under a sheet, two fleece blankets (admittedly, one is wrapped around only my feet), a quilt, and a Mayan blanket.

Day 17

Hi, Mom! Hi, Jani! I know you're out there reading this. The two of them actually wrote to me to see if I was okay, and I am...just pretty busy.

On November 1, I moved into my new room. That night, I froze.
On November 2, I didn't freeze, but I deadbolted my door at night because the main door was open much of the day and I'm usually paranoid. The next morning, I couldn't get out of my room.
On November 3, I kept hearing crazy noises in my room which kept me awake until about 1 am.

The gringos have taken over the Hogar. This has given some good changes and some not-so-amazing changes.
Good change: the boys have something to do during the day.
Bad change: a lot of the keys seem to have vanished and I can't access everything I need to.
Good change: less frijoles for meals.
Bad change: the gringos don't know to ring the bell for meals; so I've still eaten about as many meals as I did when we ate frijoles.
Good change: more people to speak English to.
Bad (?) change: more people expect me to translate all the time.

When I was here at the home for two weeks last summer, Christina and I decided that we didn't like groups coming here. "The Americans" became something that meant "people who come in and disrupt the normal workings of the home." There's one person in this group who is trying my patience. I'm sure she's a wonderful woman who has had many children and grandchildren and knows all about raising them, but the fact of the matter is that she doesn't know these boys. She wants little David--the beautiful 22-month old baby who I'm a touch possessive about--to walk places on his own (never be carried), to be awake during the day (never nap), to sit at the table and eat with a spoon all by himself (never be fed or held while he eats), and to use the toilet like the older boys (never wear a diaper). And, you know, I guess I wouldn't have a big problem with this if it were the United States and she was his primary caregiver. However, down here, that job (honor?) has pretty much fallen to me, mostly by my own choice. My parents say that when I was a baby, I always wanted to be held; so I don't mind indulging him in carrying him around. However, we have started cracking down on who holds him; we no longer let him just change arms whenever he wants. He is still a baby; so as long as he has a set nap time (which he does, more or less), I think a nap is just fine for him. (This woman exhausted David so much that he took a nap on the "driveway!") The eating thing is something we have been working on, but when he is tired, he wants to eat with his hands. Also, this 22-month old is using the same table to eat at as the 12-year old boys. The top of the table is just too high to be convenient for him which is why I often let him sit on my lap while eating...sort of as a booster seat. The diaper thing is understandable, though. And Karen wants people to start working on that with him as well; so I don't mind that at all. You just have to keep a close eye on him as there are no training seats! So, my patience is tried. It is anyway. Karen calls him a bad child (just a touch spoiled, really, and she doesn't help), and this woman treats him like he should be 10. There's a happy medium that neither of them is hitting and it's really, really frustrating.

Anyway, I spend my days translating, taking pictures, dealing with crowd control, and corresponding with Diane (of Orphan's Hope) and Carmen (of Celebrate Children International). And I have been busy. Not only have I not updated this journal, but I haven't downloaded photos from my camera or sent pictures out to Carmen either. (Diane pulls them off of Facebook where I sometimes post.)


And how I got out of my room the other morning? Around 6:30 am, Raul--one of the teachers here--went down to unlock the gate. I called out my window to him and told him my problem. Then I asked if he would try opening it from the outside. Sadly, what I had tried to accomplish for an hour, he managed in less than a minute. I know I wasn't a stupid gringa, but it was mildly embarrassing.

Okay...time for my post-lunch nap. Hasta luego. ("Until later.")