Busy-ness

Almost anyone that I talk to about busy-ness in life will say, “Yeah, I love being busy”. And although I obviously also like to rest (my last blog recounts how many times a day I like to nap), I would completely agree with that statement myself. Here in Guatemala, Brooks and I have been blessed with a good kind of busy, where our days are full and good, but there is still space to be flexible, to spend more time chatting with our host families after meals or to spend more time hanging out with the kids at the orphanage. At college I was always a slave to my schedule, and it is so nice being here and finally having some flexibility with my days. I am guessing this will be a rare moment in my life and I should cherish it, but I also hope this understanding of relationships over time will carry into my life after Guatemala (because I must admit again, I have always been a slave to time). This weekend Brooks and I had a perfect combination of busy-ness and relaxation, chalk full of good relationships. On Friday, we woke up, had breakfast, and I headed over to the orphanage to cash some checks with the orphanage director. Unfortunately, I realized once I was 9/10^th of the way there that I had forgotten the key to the locker in which Brooks and I store our pen pal stuff. I was frustrated, but I decided to stay for a bit to visit with the kids to both kill my frustrated feelings and also to make my trip not feel pointless. After my short morning there, I headed back home in time to send some e-mails and go to the gym with Brooks. At this point I was exhausted – being that it was Friday and I hadn’t had my morning nap – and I was irrationally worried about what was to come in the afternoon. We came back to lunch, and I took a short and intranquil nap and headed over to Brook’s host house to start cooking. Brooks and I had been planning a surprise birthday party that evening for our host parents, and I was worried about everything – whether the guests would come (many hadn’t responded to our calls), how I would get sugar and oil out of the house without Sheny noticing, how we would distract them and get the food and decorations back into the house, if the moment of surprise would be great or ill-timed, and how the food was going to turn out. I started by making a no-bake cheesecake, which did not turn out quite right due to the lack of heavy whipping cream and heavy cream cheese in Guatemala. Ugh; one out of two things I was making for the evening was already bad. Then I chopped vegetables, tried to go back to my room to send some more e-mails, and headed quickly back over to Brooks’ host mom’s kitchen to start making a lasagna, worried it would either be ready too early or too late. The lasagna making process went along just fine, and in the end, with 15 minutes until surprise time, it all layered together quite beautiful. We changed quickly, and then ran between Cony’s house, Sheny’s kitchen, and my room, putting up balloons and signs and putting lasagna in the oven with Sheny only slightly suspicious. The moment of truth came, and Brooks and I stood by the table under our signs, and yelled out surprise when Sheny came out. And luckily, surprised she was. We told her what was awaiting her for dinner, and she was so thankful, graciously saying “gracias” over and over again. Everyone started sitting down, setting out plates, putting the salad (made by Cony) on the table, getting out water glasses. It came down to the last 10 minutes of lasagna time and everything was happening right on time. I pulled out the lasagna when it was golden brown, and although I’ve never made lasagna before, I will boldly say it may be one of the best lasagnas I have ever tasted. Everyone around the table was so joyful, and although it is normal for us to have 12 at a dinner table some nights, this night really did feel especially party-like. The meal was amazing, the company was perfect, and it all went off without a hitch; even the runny no-bake cheesecake was enjoyed. I have no idea now what I was even worried about. We ended the night watching part of Up, which we did not finish both because the DVD stopped playing, and because Brooks and I were too tired from our day to continue.

            On Saturday Brooks and I awoke, had breakfast with our family, and headed out to the orphanage in our work out clothes, ready to finally cash some checks. The plan was to quickly cash the checks, and then head straight to the gym. I haven’t mentioned this yet, but an exciting new addition to our Guatemalan schedule is the news that Brooks and I will now be teaching a yoga class at our gym. Only in Guatemala can two white people with somewhat limited Spanish and without a yoga training certificate, teach a yoga class in Spanish. It was an idea Brooks came up with after doing yoga with our host family once and realizing it is a much desired rarity here; not many people know how to teach it, and we’ve been told the last yoga instructor left Huehue years ago. The plan for Saturday morning was to make signs and start advertising for our class. But of course, Guatemala time goes by differently than American time, and trying to pack a morning with activities doesn’t always work out. We arrived at the orphanage, went to the bank with the checks, and were told they would process them and call us back in half an hour, at which time Sandra (the director) needed to come and sign the paperwork. A few days earlier we had gone to the bank to process the first batch of checks – seven American money orders – and it ended up taking 2 hours. So the promise of a call in 30 minutes was suspicious, but we were hopefully. Of course, about 2 hours ended up passing by before we got the call to head over to the bank with Sandra, and at that point we realized making it to the gym before lunch was not going to happen. We went back home, where I quickly showered and raced to get my clothes in the washing machine. Laundry is oddly a stressful activity for me here (yeah, can you tell I get stressed easily?), because we only have enough water to wash every other day, and it’s important to get the clothes washed and ready to line dry while the sun is still shining and the rain has not started yet. Plus, I didn’t bring a ton of clothes with me, so I really calculate down to the day when I need to wash again, trying to wash less and get more out of my clothes. Of course, as I’ve learned, my stressing was unnecessary and my laundry was done in time. I spent the afternoon sending e-mails, translating letters for our pen pal program, and generally organizing our project information. I was starting to stress again that every child was not going to have a pen pal, because looking down at my list there were still many people that said they would write and have not yet. But talking with Brooks about this, we realized we have more options still, like people that are willing to write to multiple kids, so I told myself to calm down and just let God lead it. That evening we left to spend the night at the orphanage, spending our time before bed hanging out with the babies, eating dinner, passing out clothes Brett and Brooks had donated to the older boys, and passing out pen pal letters. Giving the children a letter is exciting every time, and one little boy, after getting his letter and putting the picture of his pen pal’s family in his wall, pointed to the picture and told Brooks, “This is my family”. So sweet. I stayed the night again in the niñas room, and after reading books and tucking them all in, I slept quite nicely and without pee or other distractions in my bed.

            Sunday we awoke at 6:30am (which is sleeping in at the orphanage), and Brooks and I headed home to read and rest before breakfast. Brooks gave me the first of The Chronicles of Narnia books this morning, and although I never read them as a child, I decided it was now time to see what they were like. I started this morning and am already 150 pages in (so 50 pages from the end), and am loving it. Brooks brought the whole series with him (along with stacks of other books. It’s amazing really how many books he managed to fit in his suitcase), and I am excited to work my way through the series while I’m down here. Brooks and I went in for breakfast at 8am, finding the remains of a party in the living room of our house, and some leftover tamales on the stove. Brooks and I helped ourselves to tamales, and Sheny shuffled in to explain that Otto’s cousins and family had come over last night for a dinner in celebration of Otto’s birthday (which is today). Brooks and I enjoyed our tamales on the patio, and went our separate ways to read and relax. At 11:30am, Brooks and I began practicing our yoga routine, which he will be the instructor for and I the pose model. Although taking instruction from Brooks is difficult for me, we made it through the routine with only a few snide remarks from myself, and I am excited for our class to start on Tuesday. I am nervous too; I have never gracefully made it through an entire yoga routine, and the fact that I have to do it in front of a group of people in order to properly model the poses… Well, I’m nervous about this. After our yoga practice, Brooks accidentally fell asleep on my bed (he didn’t get much sleep last night at the orphanage), and I sat and read some more Narnia. Following this we had lunch with our host family, showered, more reading and some blog writing, and then naptime before church at 4:30pm. Church was again a wonderful experience. Still not quite what I am accustomed to in the States, but with great music, an interesting message comparing soccer with our relationship to Jesus (only in Latin America…), and afterwards Brooks and I met the pastor and song leader, the pastor who told us where his house was and if we ever needed anything we shouldn’t hesitate to come over. We both have a feeling this church will probably be a more comfortable and hopefully homey environment for us. Unfortunately, we only have Sunday evenings to commit to it, but even with that I am excited to see how our relationship grows with them. Sunday evening was finished off with dinner with our family (more tamales. Yum), and watching the rest of Up. By 8pm I was tired and ready for bed, but realized that was a ridiculously early time to go to bed. So I began finishing the Narnia book I had started early that day, as well as Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Although I haven’t written about this book yet, it has been ever applicable to my life here in Guatemala, and it is a book I highly, highly recommend to everyone. Donald Miller (one of my favorite writers now – a Christian writer from Portland, OR) writes basically about the notion that our lives are stories, and if your life wouldn’t make an interesting story, it is not an interesting life. Miller encourages us all to reevaluate our lives, and essentially seize the day by daring to live better stories. Although this was my second time reading the book, I still got so much encouragement and wisdom from it. Please, if you’re reading this blog, you should go out to a bookstore right now and get Donald Miller’s book. Although living in Guatemala and volunteering at an orphanage is an easy way to be living an exciting story, I strongly believe you don’t have to be on an adventure in a third world country to be living a good story; I am so excited to take the principals I have learned here, and the passion I have built for living a good story, and apply them to my life back in the States.

            This weekend was a great time of both relaxation and time to be involved. Although I have noticed through the process of writing this blog that I worry too much, I am hoping my graceful Guatemalan schedule continues to change that about me. It is important for life to be filled with the makings of a good story, but it is also important to balance these things with enough time to relax and reclaim your sanity. Life will always be a balancing act between the right amount of busy and “stop and smell the roses”, and I think it is a challenge to each one of us to continue searching for this balance in life.

Xela Trip

            On Tuesday, Brooks and I left for our much-anticipated Xela trip. We marched out of the house with our backpacks full, and went down to the bus terminal to quickly catch a bus on its way to Xela. After a two-hour, very curvy, ride, we found ourselves in the bustling “bus terminal” of Xela. Of course, this is Guatemala, and what I mean by bus terminal is a busy place where lots of buses were parked, lots of people we’re shouting, and lots of random little stands were set up selling goodies. Brooks and I wandered a bit trying to find a mirco bus, and settled on taking a taxi to the office of our trekking group. The plan was to hike the volcano Santa Maria by the light of the full of moon that night, and after chatting with the trekking office and signing some papers, we started pumping ourselves up for the trip, trying to ignore the falling rain. We left the office around 7pm and began our search for a specific Indian restaurant in Xela. It was a difficult and wet experience, but after wandering a couple of streets and asking a couple of time for directions, we finally found the restaurant. And we were so glad we found it; it was completely worth all the trouble. Brooks and I both miss the variety of food available in the States, and this beginning to our Xela trip was exactly what we were hoping for – good food from around the world. It was amazing. After a good dinner, we walked to a café near the office to boost ourselves with some caffeine to get ready for our adventure. The rain had stopped, so we hoped that meant the trek was on. After dawdling as long as we could at the café, we headed back to the trek office around 10pm only to find out they had decided to cancel the hike because of the terribly muddy conditions we would find on the trail. Luckily, the office was located in the back of a very cheap hostel (35Q a night, or about $4.75), so we talked to the owner and got ourselves a room. We were both bummed, but given how quickly we fell asleep that night, it may have been for the best that the trek didn’t happen that evening. The next morning we got up early and set out with all of our gear to look for the in-town office of the Fuentes Georginas, a natural hot springs 30 minutes outside of Xela. We had the address and were already somewhat orientated to the streets, so we were surprised when we came upon the correct street and address only to find a café where the office was supposed to be located. We wandered up and down the street, checked and doubled checked the map, asked for directions, and finally we asked a man standing outside of the café where the office was located, and he pointed to the café and said, “Aquí”. Of course. TIG. it would be too much trouble to but a sign in the café window saying, “This is both a café and the Fuentes Georginas office”, and of course all of the neighboring stores had no idea where it was, even though they see buses with “Fuentes Georginas” written on them pulling up twice a day to this location. Relieved that we had found it, we got a quick breakfast nearby and came back to the office to wait for a shuttle bus. It was fiesta time in Xela all week because of the Guatemalan Independence Day on Thursday, so the streets were crowed and difficult to navigate. When the shuttle bus randomly parked somewhere and our driver ran out, Brooks and I were only mildly surprised. Luckily, we were only parked to pick up more passengers, who ended up being from Hillsboro, Oregon! It was a mother and her two children, ages 10 and 12, and after chatting for a bit we found out the kids go to the same middle school Brooks went to. What a small world. They were great people to talk to, and Brooks and I both agreed this woman deserves a medal of some sort for taking her two small and very talkative children all the way to Guatemala. After a 30-minute and curvy ride (just like every ride in Guatemala), we ended up at the Fuentes. Stepping out of the van and walking towards the Fuentes, the smiles on Brooks’ and my face grew wider and wider. It was beautiful. Three hot spring pools and a small restaurant placed right in the middle of a cascading jungle setting. Brooks and I talked to the front desk employee, and got the key to our bungalow for the night. Stepping into the bungalow, we were even happier with our decision to come here and stay the night in one of the seven cabins. It included a small bathroom, a large hot-tub sized tube that you could fill with water from the hot springs for a private bath, two well-furnished beds, a fireplace and firewood. It was honestly one of the nicest places Brooks and I have stayed in yet, and we were slowly realizing what a relaxing and luxurious experience this was going to be. We spent the morning in the hot springs, chatting with local Guatemalan kids. At one point Brooks was surrounded by a pose of about 15 Guatemalan schoolboys, crowding in to watch the gringo speak Spanish, and randomly shouting and cheering when he said something they liked. After our morning soak, we grabbed some lunch at the restaurant, and ran into our shuttle bus friends again. They told us about the “secret hot springs”, located down a winding path deeper into the jungle. After lunch Brooks and I ventured down there, and were blown away by the beauty we had stumbled into. It was two hot spring pools with a waterfall up above, all surrounded by lush greenery. After getting our fill of the hot water and watching our hands prune, we decided to head back to our bungalow for a quick nap. After our nap it was back in the hot springs, dinner, in the hot springs again, and then bed with a slightly successful fire going in our fireplace to keep our room warm. The next morning we awoke at 4am, and got ourselves ready for a small hike from the hot springs up to a mirador point. We thought it was going to be a simple walk up, only 30 minutes and direct according to one of the restaurant workers. But it was neither simple nor direct. We walked about 20 minutes up on a steep and muddy trail, and found ourselves at a point that had a mirador sign, but was surrounded by trees. We both could not believe that this would be the mirador, because it was the worst mirador we had ever seen with a terrible view. So we wandered around a bit more and found what we thought resembled the rest of the path up to the mirador. We still don’t know if that was the continuation of the trail though, because we ended up walking about 20 minutes with shoulder-high greenery surrounding us, saturating our pants with dew and scratching our arms. At one point Brooks asked me if I was okay, because I was sick that morning and struggling with the hike. I simply replied, “I’m okay, I’m just unhappy”. I was not enjoying our adventure. It was all completely worth it though once we reached a better mirador point and watched an incredible sunrise over volcanoes and the looming Volcano Santa Maria. It was gorgeous. Our way back down to the hot springs was a bit easier with sunlight, and with the promise that we were on our way to luxurious hot springs made the time go quickly. We soaked a bit longer, accompanied by 10 Asian tourists that didn’t speak any Spanish and were downing beers at 8 in the morning. We grabbed another breakfast at the hotel, and went back to our room to regain some of the sleep we had lost getting up at 4am. After our morning nap, we bathed in our giant room bathtub, and gathered our stuff to head back down to Xela.

            As I said before, Thursday was Independence Day in Guatemala, and Brooks and I were both hoping to experience some great festivities on this day. After walking to a potential hostel and realizing it was not for us, we went back to Casa Argentina, our 35Q hostel, and set down our stuff. We got lunch at a great American style restaurant, Café Baviera, and went back to our hostel for another nap (can you tell that we both really like to take naps?). After resting up, we went back into the city center looking for the celebration, but were informed that all of the Independence Day festivities had actually taken place the day before. That night we went to a nice balcony café for a view of a few small festivities in the city center, mostly loud fireworks and something happening on a stage set up by the local phone company. We got dinner at a nice Middle Eastern restaurant, and went back to the city center for a last attempt at seeing some Independence Day celebrations. There we found groups of people trying to send small paper hot air balloons into the sky, most failing and setting their paper hot air balloon on fire. We chatted with a nice woman in the park, and then headed back to our hostel for the night.

            Friday we woke up around 7am, and went back to Café Baviera for a delicious breakfast. From there we caught a micro to a “bus terminal”, and found a bus to take us to Xocomil, a water park about an hour from Xela. The bus ride was, of course, terrible; Guatemalans like to pack their buses, and it was so crowded Brooks and I were essentially sitting in the middle isle, each with a part of our butt on a seat and using the other sides of our butts to balance each other in place. Luckily, the terrible bus ride was completely validated when we got off at Xocomil. The entrance was reminiscent of Disney World, and the air was warmer than in Xela because we were an hour south. Brooks and I became giddy children as we walked closer and closer to the entrance of the water park. We quickly changed into our swimming suits, and headed out to the epic water rides. There were about six bigger water slides, and probably within the first hour we had done them all. It was an incredible place; so clean, so well put together, and not very crowded at all. We never had to wait very long in lines, and although many things in Guatemala are a bit dirty and sketchy, this was neither. It was such a fun day. The only hitch came when Brooks and I decided to be impatient and do a closed tube ride instead of waiting in line for the open tube rides. Bad idea; there was a reason why this ride had no line. It was pitch black the entire way through, and we ended up hitting a curve wrong and getting popped out of our inner tube. I’m a bit claustrophobic as it is, and I was freaking out even before we got popped out of our inner tube. Once that happened though, I was inconsolably freaking out. Our tube got stuck and for some reason I kept trying to pull it down with me. I couldn’t see anything around me, I had hit my head pretty bad when we fell out of the tube, and I was screaming trying to propel myself and the tube downward in the dark. Luckily it wasn’t long before the end of the ride, and I swam out half laughing and crying, vowing never to do a closed tube ride again. We finished off our day sun tanning, getting lunch, lounging in pools, doing every ride (except for the closed tube one) again, and packed up our stuff right after the afternoon rains had begun. The return bus ride was just as terrible, with three to a seat and I was in the very back of the bus meaning every bounce was that much more exaggerated. But it was all worth it for such an incredibly fun and joyful experience. We went back to our hostel that evening and I took a small nap before getting ready for dinner. Brooks had discovered through talking to some other hostel guests that one shower had hot water, so we each took indulgent, long hot showers that were – behind the shower I took at the five star hotel in Guatemala City – the best showers we had had since arriving in Guatemala. Brooks and I both got dressed up, and headed out to find an Italian restaurant near the city center. From the street, it looked like a small and unassuming place, but as we walked further in both Brooks and I were flooded with memories from being in Italy. The décor was sweet, and we ordered a ½ liter of house wine, gnocchi, and pesto pasta that were to die for. It was an incredible dinner, just absolutely incredible. We wandered back to our hostel after dinner, fat and happy and so content with the wonderful birthday I had had.

            The next day we slept in a bit, and met Cony and her niece in the city center to grab breakfast. Cony was in town to visit her niece and a good friend, and we were so excited to get to spend time with her. We had a delicious Guatemalan breakfast at a café, and Cony gave me a beautiful huipil, a traditional Mayan blouse, for my birthday. From breakfast we caught a micro over to where her friend lives, and navigated our way through her neighborhood. Brooks and I had no idea what our day had in store, but we were excited to meet Cony’s best friend and spend time with her. What we didn’t realize was that Cony’s friend is a rich Guatemalan housewife, with a maid, a beautiful house with walls covered in artwork, and four cars in their driveway. This kind of riches is unheard of in Guatemala, and Brooks and I were blown away by how different this lifestyle was compared to the Guatemalan life we had seen before. We went with her friend and got ice cream at a giant mall by her house, and headed back to her neighborhood to watch her son play in a chess tournament. Of all of the things I thought I would be doing on a Saturday in Guatemala, watching a chess tournament with a rich suburban family was not something I thought of. We found out later that the father of the family even has three personal bodyguards, because his wealth is so well known in the city that attempts on his life have been made. After the tournament we headed back to their house, where we were served a delicious meal accompanied by shots of expensive tequila and rum the husband continued to pour for us. Brooks and I were exhausted at this point and ready for a nap, but unfortunately no such relief was going to be a part of our day. After lunch we returned to the chess tournament, and back to the house so the family could get ready for their evening out at the fair. We all piled into one of their family cars, and headed out to the Xela fair with our bodyguards following close behind. The fair was definitely an interesting experience…. It consisted of many outdoor booths, all selling essentially the same thing – sweets from Mexico, toys, pirated movies, belts, clothes, and churros. Brooks and I both felt we were at a downgraded version of the Washington County Fair. After weaving through the booths outside, we ended up paying 3Q each to enter a covered portion of the fair that was called “Exhibit of the Americas”. Again, it was similar to what one would find inside at a county fair – men trying to sell blenders, printers, different foods, and vacation spots. We wound through the aisles and aisles of random booths, enjoying being jokingly introduced to friends of the family as their gringo kids. After the exhibit, we all sat down at an outdoor restaurant, and enjoyed food and drinks. Everyone else ate a delicious looking mole (a Mexican sauce) and little tortilla and meat tapas, but as the sad vegetarian I was left to enjoy a cheese popusa and more churros. After chatting and eating for probably a couple of hours, it was 10:30pm and past mine and Brooks’ normal Guatemalan bedtime. The family drove us back to our hostel and we said our goodbyes, thanking them for their hospitality and cataloging this day as one of our more interesting and intriguing days in Guatemala. We had an idea to go get up early the next morning and go a lake an hour away, but both Brooks and I were overcome with exhaustion and decided it would be best for us to sleep in and enjoy our last day in Xela.

            On Sunday we both awoke around 8:30am, got ready, packed up our stuff, and jumped on a micro to head over to where Cony was staying with her niece. Cony came and found us near the giant mall, and after ditching our stuff at her niece’s house we walked over to a delicious breakfast joint called XelaPan. My breakfast was unbelievable – fresh rosemary focaccia bread with a fried egg inside, drizzled with a hollandaise sauce and accompanied by fried plantains and fresh papaya juice. Amazing. After breakfast we ended up watching a parade go down the street, still in celebration of the Independence Day. I think I have seen more parades in the past two months in Guatemala then I have seen in the past two years in the States. They love their parades here. After the parade we walked over to the giant mall, and ended up shopping with Cony for a couple of hours, because Cony loves to shop. After shopping we got lunch in the mall food court. Again, going to giant malls is not something I thought I would be doing during my time here in Guatemala, and it has been so interesting for us to see how the other half of Guatemalans live when we had grown so accustomed to the daily poverty we see in Huehue. After lunch we got some delicious frozen yogurt from a place called Yogen Fruz that blends fruit and yogurt together right in front of you. Eating our frozen yogurt, looking around ourselves and at Cony, we were very content with the quality time we were able to spend with her this weekend. She’s a joy, and any time spent with her is time well spent. After finishing our froyo we went back to her niece’s house, said our goodbyes, and walked over to the “bus terminal” to catch a bus back to Huehue. I finally, for the first time in my travels, took a motion sickness pill, and slept beautifully and without sickness the whole ride back. Brooks and I both loved our trip and would agree it was much needed break, but coming back to Huehue always feels so comfortable, and we were so excited to see the kids again on Monday. Basically, life is good. : )   

This Blessed Life

This week has been met by many moments reminding me of how unique this experience is, and how blessed I am to be here. It may sound like I write that a lot, that I am blessed to be here, but I really am. It’s important to recognize that this experience isn’t the norm, and that it demands a lot of thankfulness on my part. Brooks and I have now been here for more than two months, and the time is flying by. Although I’m struggling with not looking to the future too much and not planning post-Guatemala life too much, it’s weeks like this that make me want to live in the moment, and make me realize how much I am going to miss this place when I leave.

On Wednesday, I had an incredible day at the orphanage. I have learned from being an Oregonian, where sun can be rare, that I am most likely solar powered; I am always in much better spirits when the sun is shining. And on Wednesday, we had one of our first afternoons in a while at the orphanage where it was not pouring down rain and completely dreary outside. This sunshine brought me so much joy, and it animated the kids as well. I was reminded again that I love these kids SO much, so much more than I have ever loved children before. Something about this experience and the beauty and the pain that we see at the orphanage just makes my heart explode with love for these kids. Wednesday I did the same things I do most other days; play with the older kids and spend some time in the baby room, but somehow this day felt so much more joyful, and it was just the kind of encouragement I needed.

On Thursday, instead of going to Fundación, Brooks and I spent the afternoon with Brooks’ host mom, Cony, at a fair in Chiantla, the nearby town. Cony is an amazing woman, and she is so fun to talk to and spend time with. She is one of those people that make you love life. She was actually on her way to a funeral after the fair, and told us, “Enjoy life; it’s too short to spend worrying; you never know when it will end”. Normally, that would be kind of morbid advice, but from Cony it just made me want to live as vivaciously as possible. At the fair, we spent our time walking around, looking at booths, buying sweets, and meeting people. We weren’t even in Huehue and Cony still knew everyone; she is a well-loved person. Toward the end of our time at the fair, we sat down in a portable restaurant and enjoyed enchiladas and horchata, which Cony treated us to. It was a refreshing evening; it’s so important for us to get out of our routine every now and then and see things outside of our bubble. Brooks and I are both people who appreciate routine and being able to anticipate what our days will look like, but obviously it is necessary to mix it up sometimes.

Friday, I had my last Spanish class with Sheny, and I was quite excited to reach this landmark. We had been taking classes two hours a day, five days a week for the past four weeks, and I was ready for a break from this schedule. The classes were incredibly helpful though; although I was a Spanish major in college, I have noticed it is so hard to learn another language in a classroom in the States, and is so right to learn a language through a class-intensive and immersion experience. We covered all the Spanish grammar tenses as well as common errors, such as ser versus estar, and I know I am so much more equipped to have good conversations in Spanish now. After our normal routine of class, gym, lunch, and nap, Brooks and I headed to the orphanage with our bags packed for the night. We hung out with the kids for a couple of hours, and once our stomachs started to rumble, we decided to treat ourselves to Telepizza for dinner instead of mass-produced orphanage food. Our Telepizza experience is one for the books; Telepizza and a restaurant called Pollo Campero (the most popular fast food restaurant in Guatemala) share a store here in Huehue, and although Pollo Campero is fast food, they actually have waitresses and service at the tables! It’s kind of a mix of McDonalds and Red Robins, and was one of the strangest fast food experiences I have ever had. The pizza, though, was amazing. We walked back to the orphanage after having our fill of pizza, and spent the night reading books in the different rooms and getting ready for bed. I chose to stay this time in the Kinders room, and thought it would be sweet to snuggle with some of the kids for bed. This may or may not have been a good idea though… I started with two in the bed with me, one who fell asleep instantly and I moved to his own bed, and another that was being a little fussy and moved between her bed and mine a couple times. Once she finally rolled around enough to fall asleep in my bed, and all the other kids were asleep, I thought I would get some sleep. But, of course, I was wrong. First of all, I always underestimate how loud common sleeping rooms are, with 12 people including myself breathing, moving, and talking in their sleep. I was in and out of sleep, selfishly with earplugs in half the time, and out the other half so I could hear if anyone cried in the night. Another thing I underestimated is how often three year olds wet the bed. Yeah, Ingrid, my bed buddy, wet the bed. Luckily it all stayed on her side and the blanket was thick enough to act as a wall between us, but the overwhelming smell of pee (the room already smelled like pee, and the kid next to me was wetting his bed as well) was too much for me to comfortably sleep through the night. I more or less drifted in and out of sleep, waiting for 6am when I could go home and sleep on my own pee-free bed. Note to self: ALWAYS move the Kinder out of your bed once they have fallen asleep. Rookie mistake. 

Saturday came and went mostly uneventfully. We were both tired from our evening at the orphanage, so we just followed our typical Saturday routine of sleeping, reading, writing, going to the grocery store and working out. As usual, the thing that I was looking forward to all day was watching an American movie that night, with treats to accompany. We had bought a pirated copy of “Super 8” at the fair, and it did not disappoint. I highly recommend it.

Sunday again is moving by slowly, but with me in better spirits than yesterday because I slept much better last night. Sunday became laundry day, reading, sitting in the sun, and attempting to attend church in the afternoon. Today is elections day in Guatemala, and Brooks and I had both heard rumors it’s a dangerous day for foreigners to be wandering around; we decided to live cautiously and just stay home, aside from leaving the house once to head to church. Our attempt at church was a fail though, because our church is located so close to a voting center they decided not to have a service that evening due to the voting traffic. Voting here in Guatemala is like nothing I’ve seen before; people were all dressed up, and there were food booths set up outside of the voting center (an elementary school) for people to get snacks and talk around. Tons of groups of people were standing around outside of the school, most likely discussing their votes and the future direction of Guatemala. Hearing about the governmental system here has been disheartening, and most likely everyone was discussing, “Oh, wouldn’t it be nice if this election actually mattered, actually changed something? Did you vote for the more corrupt guy or the less corrupt guy?” It’s not uncommon for politicians to buy votes here, and the last elected mayor of Huehue actually went into hiding two years into his term, still receiving his fat paycheck for doing nothing. After checking out the elections scene, Brooks and I bought popsicles, defeated again by another failed attempt at attending church, and headed home (Side story: Ironically, every time something has happened that prevented us from attending church, I was always wearing the same blouse. I think it might be cursed). We decided to listen to a sermon on CD Brooks had from Bible Lectures, given by his college pastor about how young people are leaving the church. It was an excellent sermon, and made me feel an emotional excitement I haven’t been feeling at the churches down here. It’s so interesting to me that I feel like I am finally doing what Jesus wants of us – to go out and live, love and serve – and yet this has honestly been a kind of a low point for my faith. I feel like my faith is currently a quiet constant versus a passionate emotion. And sure, I read by Bible everyday, pray, listen to Christian music at the gym, and both Brooks and I feel like our one-on-one relationships with God are currently at their best. But both of us have realized it’s the lack of Christian community we have here that is affecting our ability to feel the emotional excitement we used to get from going to church and having coffee dates and Bible studies. And although neither of us could really figure out a solution to this dilemma – something about the language and culture barrier is making it difficult for us to feel integrated in a church – it was good for us to at least express this confusion to each other. All in all, though, I would say God is teaching me some pretty amazing things down here, and I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.

The Little Things

Something about being in a third world country makes one very thankful for the little things in life… And it seems like the little things are always that which makes me miss home the most; sure, I miss my friends and family, but it’s the things I didn’t expect to miss that really throw me off and make me wish I could teleport, just so I could hop to the States even for a day to eat cheddar cheese, take a warm shower, feel clean, and sit on a couch. Friday, I was having a day where all the little things that are different about Guatemala – how inefficient everything is, how unsafe I feel sometimes, how tired I am of seeing potato bugs crawling around my room, how annoying it is to have ‘no water days,’ the creepy looks from the men at the gym – all of these things were really getting to me and I was hoping that around the next corner I would find a teleporter just so I could end up in Forest Grove, Oregon, sitting on my parents’ couch, eating American foods. Luckily, God knows when we are having days like this, and He knows what we need. After saying goodbye to our host family for the weekend (they went to a nearby pueblo for the weekend to seek medical care for Sheny’s mom), and after being overwhelmed by the things I had to remember to do this weekend to keep the house safe, I went upstairs and laid down for a “I just need a moment so I won’t be grumpy anymore” nap. 10 minutes into my nap, though, I heard Brooks quietly walking into my room. At first annoyed, I realized the reason he had come into my room was for a worthy piece of news: Linda, a missionary from Texas currently living in Huehue, had invited us to her house that night for dinner. Brooks and I gladly accepted the invitation, and hurried out to the orphanage so we would have time to teach our English class and visit with the kids before going to Linda’s house.

At the orphanage, our English class was again a struggle, made up of both kids that already knew the words we were teaching, and kids that couldn’t even write and spell in Spanish. After class Brooks and I both found refuge in the baby room, where things are a bit calmer and less physically taxing. After changing some diapers and feeding some babies, I looked around and realized Brooks was gone. I went and found him sitting in the office, writing down ideas for his next blog, taking some time to slow down and reflect. I plopped down on the couch next to him, realizing it was just that kind of day. He told me that Linda was on her way to pick us up, and I was so excited for those 10 minutes of sitting down and doing nothing. Linda came and got us at the orphanage, and while we told the doorkeeper we would be back later that night the stay at the orphanage, we realized after our dinner and desert at Linda’s that that was not going to happen – it was too late and we were too tired.

Once we arrived at Linda’s house, Linda’s roommate and fellow missionary, LynnAnn, was busy making meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a salad. LynnAnn is from Tennessee, and as Brooks said, she’s knows how to use her butter. We got a quick tour of their simple home, which they had just moved into after choosing to move out of the large mission house, and Brooks and I couldn’t help but feel so comfortable there and so at home. It was a small slice of America right in the middle of Huehue. We enjoyed LynnAnn’s AMAZING dinner, which was accompanied by a glass of lemonade with ice. After dinner we walked to a nearby tienda to buy ice cream bars, and another small thing Brooks and I realized we missed was being able to walk outside at night. Linda and LynnAnn live in a safe, quiet neighborhood with a gate out front; without these securities, it’s not a good idea to walk at night in Guatemala – even Guatemalans don’t do it. We took our ice cream bars home, and sat around their living room, eating ice cream and chatting with Linda, LynnAnn, and LynnAnn’s daughter, Jessie. It was just such a blessing. It was great to talk to Linda and LynnAnn, who had recently made the decision to move out of the mission house and no longer work as hosts to short term mission teams, making this decision to give them more time to focus on their other ministries in town. And it was good to hear about their passion for living in Guatemala – they both said they want to live here for the rest of their lives – but to know that along with that passion, they still get homesick sometimes, and they still crave American things, and they still get fed up with the inefficiency of this country. All in all it was a very healing night; I needed this one night to be reminded why I am here, that my being here is good, and that it’s okay that it’s not always easy.

The next day Brooks and I made ourselves a delicious breakfast, and for Brooks it was one of the first times he finally had enough to eat here. Our host mom is a good cook, but she doesn’t understand the proportions of food Brooks likes to eat, and because of this he has spent many days here still hungry after meals. But our family was out of town this weekend, and Brooks and I were on our own to cook what we wanted and how much we wanted, taking the foods she had left us and spicing it up a bit. We had a wonderful day of relaxation and good food; I slept in until 8:30, had breakfast, went to the gym, devoted hours and hours to typing up my notes from my Spanish classes, made a delicious lunch, read a bit, made a delicious dinner, and watched a movie. It’s simple comforts like these, good food and an American movie, which Brooks and I have become so thankful for, and which have become such great treats down here.

Sunday I slept in until 8:30 again, made another great breakfast, mosh (oatmeal) and fried plátanos, read and finished typing my notes, made a great lunch, and relaxed some more. In the afternoon, Brooks and I attended a church closer to our house that was suggested to us by Linda, and it was another answer to prayer because I felt so much more comfortable at this church than I had at our previous church. The worship music had instruments behind it, the pastor spoke more slowly and stayed in one story of the Bible instead of jumping around, and at the end a man came up to us to greet us in English. To find someone who speaks English is Huehue is pretty rare, and it was so nice for him to go out of his way to speak to us in his second language to make us feel more comfortable and at home.

The weekends go by so quickly here, and it seems like Monday comes around instantly and it’s time again to be at the orphanage and back to our busy weeks. But it’s weekends like this that help me maintain my excitement and joy down here, and help me to realize we should always be thankful for the little things in life.