Mi Amor!

***Confession! There is no spell check on this computer, and being a child of the 90´s I never learned how to spell, so please excuse my spelling and grammar it is horrible and I am very tired!


No, I have not met the love of my life in Guatemala...yet, but the title of this blog, mi amor, is the name that my mother here calls my father, and I think it is simply too beautiful to go unwritten! Whether Betty is mad or completely contento she calls Hugo, mi amor, my love. In the picture to the left is Betty, Omar, Hugo, their friend Perez, and me. We were eating dinner together to celebrate Perez´s 70th Birthday! Perez is a missionary from Puerto Rico and writes and sings and records his own music. Perez is definatly full of love as well! My family, as do many here in Guatemala, always greet each other with a kiss and leave each other with a kiss. So, I have been getting many kisses as I am apart of their family. It is amazing how much physical touch can do to the spirit! Last week prior to being here I felt very lonely at times but being apart of this family and feeling not only their emotional love but physical love in action and touch has meant much to my experience here. My mother has four boys and so it is a treat for both of us to have each other here and share in being women and being pastors. Mi amor, is not the only sweet name Betty has for people but she also calls all of her children, mio, or mine! This name is not said in a dominating way but I see it more in the way that the Isaiah says, "I have called you by name, you are mine!" As I pray it has been sweet to think of God in her lovely Spanish accent calling me, mio! Simply something to ponder!

Living in Color!

My friend Adrian says that anyone can be a photographer for national geographic in Guatemala because it is just so beautiful! This is true! I took this picture of the little girl hiding behind her mother´s scarves with my meager photography skills at the Ruth and Naomi project in Chichicastango. The project is run by the Methodist Church in the area and is operated by their pastor, Diego. They make all sorts of bags, purses, skirts, dresses, wallets, belts, table clothes, and some jewerly. The project started in the late 80s when woman would come to Diego and ask for food for their children and he had none to give. So Diego went to the conference office and asked for money there. They had none but suggested that Diego start a project with the woman. He came back and told them he didn´t get any money but they could make some if they were willing to work. Ofcourse, they were willing to work! Like Ruth and Naomi the generations of women without husbands started out on a new journey together, and like the story in the Bible, God blessed them indeed! The project now produces hundreds of orders for fair trade stores all over the world, including a lot of work for Ten Thousand Villiages.

What intrest me most about this project are the women themselves and their ability to create such color out of their very grey lives! The civil war in Guatemala lasted for 36 years and mostly affected women like those photographed above who lived in small villiages in the mountains. At the time of the war and today many were poor in the country and some in the country did not think this was right and some just didn´t care. There was a guerilla army and an army of the government. Some in the guerilla army were hoping for a revalution in the country and would meet together and plan. Whenever the army from the government thought that the guerillas were meeting in a certain town they would go and shoot and sometimes burn a whole city, targeting men mainly, because they believed they were the ones that could be apart of the guerilla. It was very sad and sad also to learn that in the 80s while Jimmy Carter was calling for Peace in Guatemala, the CIA was sending billions of dollars of guns to the government army! Peace was brought about after 36 years and in great part by efforts of the Catholic church and other churches which gathered Guerillas and Government officals together to reach a peace agreement. They have tried to establish a truth and reconcillation project but because of the great amount of impunity here it is hard to punish or pin point any of the wrong doers!

So in the midst of many men fighting these very strong women suffer the consequences. Many of their husbands left never to be found again, or to be found dead in ditches and ravins near their houses. Young boys were even taken from their homes and taught to fight for the government army. Houses and churches were burnt down leaving many already poor people homeless. Yet, in the midst of this very grey cloud that has sat over their simple lives, these women create things in color! It is interesting that even the bases of the belts they embrodier come to them in black and white and they sew beautiful flowers and birds and shapes in the brightest color combinations I have ever seen! And they not only create things in color but they also wear skirts and shirts and belts in brillant colors of bright pink, green, blues, and yellows! It is hard to seperate them from their art work! There is not doubt in my mind that their works of art while someday be hanging in museums all around the world, displaying not only their craftsmanship and creativity but also their perservence and choice to live in color!

Suena, me, and Diego

Antigua

Under the arch you might be able to see the volcano hiding beneath the clouds. Yes, this is Antigua, breathtaking! We only spent 4 hours in Antigua but it felt like I could spend my whole life there. The streets were buzzing with people and the scenary screamed out life all around us! There we celebrated the birthday of one of my friends here in Guatemala. We went the day before Indepence day and the roads were packed going both ways because of a great tradition where youth run from Antigua to Guatemala City carrying torches. So, every school in the area sends youth to run the rough 15 mile run. So all day we saw and heard groups of children running by us with wistles in their mouth and torches in their hands celebrating their freedom from Spain. The capitol used to be in Antigua and then was moved to Guatemala City sometime after they got their independence but I´m thinking the run has some kind of meaning with the moving of the capitol. The bus ride there and back was about one hour and a half and was full of turns, bumps, and water ballons that youth would try to throw in the windows along their run! I will be going back to Antigua soon to visit a friend from seminary and visit some monastaries there. My friends from school and I are also going back to climb the volcano under the arch! We hope to do it at night because the lava glows extra bright around 9 pm!

The Present Tense!

To the left is me and my wonderful maestra, Edna! One day last week Edna had to leave early and so I had to meet with another teacher Lucy who I did not know that well. Lucy and I got to know each other a bit and then translated the book of Matthew some. When Edna returned the next day she sat me down and told me that we needed to go back and practice the present tense! I was a little upset because I thought I had mastered the present tense, but Lucy told Edna that I did not know it that well. So, we went over the present tense and I was just fine and actually knew all of the irregular verbs in the present tense, which are many. After I sat and thought for a while about all that me and Lucy had talked about I noticed that it wasn´t that I didn´t know the present tense it is just that I didn´t talk much in the present tense and was just learning the past tense and really butchered it!

This really made me think about how much I talk in the past and future tenses of my life. I often talk about what myself or others have done or are going to do, but rarely do I talk about what is happening around me presently! Once I had this revelation I realized that I needed to start noticing the things around me more and actually talking about them and celebrating them with the people around me! Like the colorful little humming bird that comes to suck the nector of some of the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen in my life that hang from the outside hallway of my school. I have begun to notice people more and their expressions, like the chef at our school who does not smile unless you compliment her cooking and even then only for a mila second! Although it was tough to hear that I had to work on the present tense it was a good reminder to live in the present and not only live but talk in the presence with others around me!

If Cementeries Could Tell their Stories...

Last week a man named Rob took us to the National Cemetery in Guatemala City. Yes, the Cemetery was the first tourist attraction that I visited, rather morbid, I know. Yet, as Rob had promised we learned the whole history of Guatemala by simply walking around the cemetery and listening to the stories that she had to tell. The stories are painful but I think might have something to teach us. Going into detail right now would take days to express all that I was thinking and feeling while walking and hearing her stories so I have used the ease of a poem that rhymes to help me tell the story of the National Cemetery of Guatemala.

If Cementeries Could tell their Stories...

If Cemeteries could tell their stories, what would they say?

Would they tell of all the people that come to make their final stay?

Would she tell of the Castellos, whose temple looks that of a sphenix?

Who rule the rich and the poor by controlling what they drink.

Whould she tell of the Germans who ¨settled¨ in Coban?

Who forced the hands of Mayans to grow their coffee Gods.

Would she tell of the coming of the English and Chinese?

Who both came as immigrants and did as they pleased.

Would she tell of Arbanz who´s vision was the ¨New Deal¨?

But whose life was cut too short because he gave the US chills.

Would she tell of the bullet punctiered tomb of Miguel Garcia Gernados?

Where many layed their heads and quickly became ghost.

Would she tell of the dump that is her smelly neighbor?

Where children young and old live and find their labor.

Would she tell of the tiny boxes that are rented by the year?

Each adorned with photos and flowers by ones that hold them dear.

If the cemeteries could tell their stories, what would they say?

They would plead that we all stop hurting one another and remember the gift of each day.

This is a short poem by a novice poet. Some explanation....The Castello family´s tomb is at the center of the cemetary. They own all beer, water, and soda companies in Guatemala and are one of the wealthiest in the country. The Germans settled in 1875 in the land conquered by the Spainish in a small area encircled by mountains named Coban. There they forced the indigenous people to give them their land and forced them to grow coffee on it. Unknown to me the English and the Chinese also found homes in their search for a land with new opportunities. Arbanz was the president of Guate in 1944. In his acceptance speach he acutally used part of Eisenhower´s ¨New Deal¨language. Later he was killed for the progress he was trying to make in his country. In the 90´s Clinton actually came to apologize for the CIAs involvement in his murder. His tomb is at the front of the cemetary as well. Miguel Garcia Garnados was one of the writers of the constitution, but his tomb is most important because it is right by the dump. So, in the 36 years of civil war many priest, writers, profesors, journalist, and teachers where killed because of their ideologies. They were shot in the neck against his tomb and then convienetly thrown behind it in the dump. The same dump that many children live in and work in today. They recycle the trash that is thrown in the dump and make a fair living doing so, especially with the prices of aluminum on the rise. Among all of the big tombs are rows of small boxes each decorated so beautifully by their family members. Many rent these boxes to lay the bodies until generations go by and families cannot pay for them any longer. So, I have learned that cemeteries tell quite the story. It might be an exciting field trip for you to venture to your cemetary or maybe the many cemeteries in your town and see what stories they might have to tell. Below are a few pictures from my trip. Sorry for my first blog to be such a downer, but that is how my journey has started, and from my understanding blogs are supposed to real, so here it is! No worries though, I spent a gorgeous day in Antigua on Sunday and I will have stories and pictures to tell from that adventure in the next few days. Until then...more Spanish...I start the intermediate course tomorrow!

The Castello Tomb

The tiny rented tombs.

Gernados´bullet torn tomb.
The Dump next door.