Premature Nostalgia

            Today, and this whole week, I have been in a very content mood. The previous weeks I had been feeling very sad about my approaching departure date, but now I think I am finally at a point where I can appreciate this experience for what it has been, and can be excited for more adventures to come after I return home. I think the trip we took this week with the kids to Xela was a sort of capstone experience for me; it was the perfect experience to have with Fundación Salvación to leave me very satisfied with my time here. We have also had a very festive week with our host family, which surprisingly didn’t make me sad about leaving, but all is already starting to feel nostalgic.

            Tuesday night our family put together a grand birthday party for Yessi, our host cousin; I think I have helped cook for and have been a part of more birthday parties here in Huehue than I have ever been in the States. I didn’t realize this, but Brooks and I have been around for the birthdays of all three of the adults we live with, as well as the mother of Sheny, and my own birthday. Needless to say, I feel like I have this Guatemalan party thing down. Brooks and I again contributed a dessert (a chocolate cake, sadly somewhat burnt on the bottom) and some mashed potatoes. It was a delicious dinner, and I will never grow tired of sitting around a table here and laughing with my host family. This party plus the Xela trip made for a busy week, and more than any other weeks this one has moved by rapidly.

            On Friday night we had another party, a going away party for Katie, a student who had been living with us the past three weeks. Sheny made delicious tamales, Yessi fried plantains, and a student from France, Francis, made an amazing salad. After stuffing ourselves with dinner (which is rare here – lunches are usually the bigger meals), we all took a short nap and then headed out to “enjoy the night life” of Huehue. It was honestly one of the first times I had been out so late at night in Guatemala, and it was refreshing to enjoy this normalcy I took for granted in the States. Yessi, Brooks, Francis, Katie, Lucia and I all walked to the city center around 9pm to meet up with Otto and Sheny (who had ridden by moto) at a restaurant run and owned by a former American missionary turned Guatemalteca (practically; her Spanish is impeccable and she’s really well integrated into the Guatemalan culture). Kayla’s restaurant was a beautiful place with a wide-open courtyard, and side rooms with comfy couches. We all ordered drinks, and sat around listening to some live music, performed by a Guatemalteco that actually goes to Brooks’ and my gym. Ironically, three other Americans came in later, obviously the highest concentration of American’s in all of Huehue that night. We chatted with them only to find out the girl in the group is from Beaverton, Oregon. Small world. The live music was great, the atmosphere was joyful while we watched Lucia and her mom and dad dance around, and I found myself often with a big grin on my face, taking in every moment without sadness about leaving, but happiness that I have had these experiences.

            On Saturday I finally had the opportunity to enjoy something of a social life. Saturday afternoon I walked over to our gym and waited for my friend, Gina, to pick me up to go out to coffee. Like most good Guatemalans she was a half an hour, but I have learned to not let things like that phase me anymore. We jumped on her moto (which are SO fun. Wish they were more popular in the States) and headed over to a pizza place in Huehue, which had a very friendly and cozy atmosphere. We enjoyed a pizza and some drinks, and chatted the afternoon away. I don’t know if it’s the Spanish language or the Guatemalan nature, but out of the two coffee dates I have been on here in Guatemala, there has never been an awkward silence to fill. After our meal Gina drove me over to the orphanage, where she came in and met all of the sweet babies and some of the older kids. Brooks and I were planning to spend the night at the orphanage, and had a crazy evening passing out pen pal letters and playing with incredibly hyper kids. By 8:30 pm it was time for everyone to start tucking into bed, and while this was kind of difficult in my Niñas room (because, like I said, they were all pretty incredibly hyper), by 9 pm the lights were out and the girls were silent.

            Sunday morning Brooks and I found ourselves at the orphanage again, there to watch a futbol tournament organized another volunteer. She had split the older kids into four teams – Manchester, Rojos, Real Madrid, and Barcelona – and had them all play games of about half an hour. Brooks ended up being the ref, but I enjoyed the game sitting on the sidelines with the younger kids, half paying attention while playing with the kids around me. It was a fun morning, but by the time we walked home I found that I was extremely exhausted. We ate a quick lunch, and then I took a nap before leaving the house again to hang out with Gina. She had invited me to attend her cousins’ babies’ birthday party, and I have learned in Guatemala to hardly ever turn down invitations (unless given by creepy men); although it’s all normal for them, for me almost everything is a fun, new cultural experience. It ended up being a great and extravagant party (extravagant for a one year old at least, who had no idea what was going on); there were two clowns doing funny things with the kids and doing some magic tricks, they had THREE piñatas, and cake and tamales afterwards. Apparently, if I want to recreate a Guatemalan party back home, the only four things I really need to include are clowns, piñatas, tamales, and cake. These four things seem to be a part of every Guatemalan festivity (clowns and piñatas optional at adult parties I guess), and as Gina said, “It’s not a party without a piñata”.

            Brooks and I have been talking a lot recently about my impending departure date, and we have decide it is important to leave something like this with both sadness and happiness; if you’re not sad when you leave, it probably means you didn’t enjoy the experience as fully as you could have. And if you’re not happy when you’re leaving, it probably means you don’t have something to look forward to when you return. I am feeling a mix of both of these emotions, which makes me content to know I am probably exactly where I should be.

The Happiest Place on Earth

            Some say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth, but I’m starting to think the happiest place on earth is actually the Xela mall. On Wednesday, Brooks and I took our much-anticipated trip to Xela with the kids, and it was nothing short of amazing. About a month and a half ago Brooks and I had asked Sandra, the director of Fundación Salvación, to tell us what she dreamed of for the kids at Fundación. To our surprise, the first thing she told us was her wish to see the annual Xela trip reinstated. Because of a lack of funds, they had not been able to take their trip to Xela, which celebrated the end of the school, for the past three years. As Brooks and I sent out the message for the start of our pen pal program, we mentioned in a short paragraph our desire to be able to take the kids on this trip, and how much donations would mean to us towards this endeavor. God blessed us greatly, giving us many generous hearts making generous donations to make this trip a possibility. At one point I was worried about how much money we lacked for the trip, but only a few short weeks later we found ourselves with enough donations to more than cover the trip. A special thanks must go out to Lisa Baumgartner and Anthony Ruddy, Stephanie Weaver, Casey Stepan, Phil Zapf and Bonnie McDowell, Lexi Stickel, and Anthony Sciubba, who were our generous benefactors and made this wonderful trip a possibility.
            Brooks and I arrived at the orphanage bright and early at 7am, and helped load the kids on the bus and make sure everything was ready to go. We had a slight scare when we opened our locker and found that the bag of money, that was going to be used to pay for the trip, was missing; luckily, Sandra had discovered our locker open the day before and moved the money to a secure place in her office. Kids were running around, excited, we were putting nametags on the little ones, and a bunch of girls in the kitchen were frantically putting beans in bread for our snack. After a half hour of chaos, we loaded everyone on the bus – 55 kids and 10 volunteers – and headed out. Like all bus rides in Guatemala, there is always something to stop for; our bus stopped once to change a tire, and then a second time to get gas. The drive to Xela was slow; the week before Guatemala had heavy rain and storm-like conditions because of a hurricane in Mexico, so the roads were still showing the effects of the damage. We had to stop once in a line-up of cars because they were trying to fix a landslide on part of the road. We took this as an opportunity for a potty break though, and about 20 kids loaded off the bus and went pee behind a parked truck. About three hours after leaving Huehue we found ourselves in Xela, on our way to our first stop, the zoo. Brooks and I have laughed before at the lack of directional knowledge Guatemalans seem to possess, but we were astounded when we realized the bus driver didn’t know where either the zoo nor the mall were (our only two destinations in Xela, and only five minutes from one another). Someone needs to invest in getting GoogleMaps Guatemala ready. After making some turn arounds, we finally found the zoo and quickly unloaded all the kids in their groups. I was put with the little girls ages 4-6, which was both one of the best experiences I have ever had, and one of the most hectic. We quickly passed out a snack, and then went into the zoo (which was free! Totally awesome with a group of 65). Our first stop was the bathroom, which obviously took forever with such a large group. After that we wandered around the zoo a bit, checking out the different animals. Although we had heard several times that the Xela zoo was nothing spectacular, the kids absolutely loved it. They had a variety of colorful birds, monkeys, one lonely lion, and some other animals. Unfortunately I had to leave quickly to go to the mall and order pizza, but after looking at the animals the kids played on some giant slides they had at the zoo. For some, the simple joy of the zoo was their favorite part of the day.

            At the mall, after walking 10 minutes from the zoo, I went to the food court and ordered 25 medium pizzas for our group to be ready an hour later. We thought 25 pizzas would be more than enough, but we found out later we had grossly underestimated that. I met up with Jeanie, Cony’s niece who lives in Xela, and we marched over to WalMart to buy sodas for the kids. Again, we thought eight-3 liter bottles of soda would be enough, but not with our kids. After buying the soda and carting it upstairs, we sat down to enjoy a granisada (a snow cone with extra toppings) before the kids arrived. We soon realized our presence was not enough to scare people away from sitting down at the tables near us, and we had to enlist the help of some mall employees to help us move tables and chairs into a long line. Everyone in the food court quickly began staring at us, and I realized what 66 people all in a line would look like. It was a sight to see. By 1pm the kids started rolling upstairs, finding their seats, getting cups and soda, with pizza boxes placed in front of every two. Within minutes the pizza was devoured, and Brooks and I ordered another six pizzas, and then another eight pizzas, and then finally another four. We wanted the kids to be able to stuff their faces, and enjoy the experience of being able to eat pizza until they were full; we just didn’t realize to what magnitude they could do that. One boy ate 12 slices of pizza, and a six-year-old girl ate six slices of pizza. After the pizza escapade, we had an activity planned where each kid received 5Q (about 75 cents) to buy anything they wanted in the mall. For the older kids it was a really successful activity, but unfortunately with my little girls it was kind of tough. After a long bathroom break, we made our way upstairs to a toy store (it was like herding kittens the whole time), only to realize most of the toys cost more than 5Q; although we gave all the kids the option to share their money with a friend and buy something together, that concept didn’t quite register with the little girls. After looking at many bright pink toys, me telling them how many friends they would need to share money with, and them not being willing to share, I realized it was time to find some candy to buy that would require less math. Luckily, on our way out they found bags of small jelly candies, and settled on buying three bags of candies between the six of us. After buying our candy, we left the store and headed over to the escalator. The girls had neither seen nor ridden one before, and after timidly getting on the first time, they commenced to ride the escalator up and down about four times. They were so cute, and while I was snapping some pictures of them, I again got to bask in the simple joys they find in life. After our multiple escalator rides, I gathered them up and found some stairs to sit on to eat our candies. By 3pm, we met up with the group at the movie theater, where we were getting ready to see Winter – El delfín. We filed all of the kids into the movie theater, and then started passing out soda and popcorn to every two kids. Again, I felt for the employees as they were trying to pump out massive quantities of food for the kids. The movie was a wonderful movie (I almost cried at the end, and sometimes awkwardly clapped when the characters clapped, only to realize I was getting too into the movie); I was quite happy that I could understand a movie that was dubbed in Spanish. At one point, all of my five little girls needed to use the bathroom, and I have a beautiful mental image of the six of us, all walking in a line, holding hands and giggling on our way to the bathroom. They were so precious. After the movie we all filed out of the theater, made another bathroom stop (which, again, took forever), and then climbed on the bus to go home.

            It’s hard for me to describe how incredible that day truly was, how special this was for both the kids and for us, but I was seriously riding the bus home with a perma-smile on my face (despite the fact that I was sitting in gum someone had left on my seat…). The kids were so thankful for the experience, and one girl told me she had never had a day so happy in all of her life. They deserved this experience, and I am overjoyed that we could help make it happen and could enjoy it with them as well. It will be a long talked about day at Fundación Salvación.  

The Meaning of Mission

Have you ever had an experience that felt so far from your regular life, that when you return to normal life you wonder if you dreamt up the whole thing? You might think my entire Guatemala experience would be like that, but in all actuality my time here has become very normalized for me. This last week, though, I found myself at an event that, when I returned to Huehue, was hard to both understand and reconcile with my normal life here in Guatemala.

This past week, Brooks and I traveled to a town near the Mexican-Guatemalan border to help with a medical mission, which was being put on by a mission team from the States, partnered with Guatemalan doctors and missionaries associated with an organization here. Our new friends Guisela and Ubaldo told us about it, and Brooks and I were initially so excited about participating, we essentially kept asking them about it until we were invited to come. On Tuesday evening, Guisela and Ubaldo picked us up and we set out on our journey. Comically, we didn’t make it far, just to the orphanage and a gas station in Huehue, because Ubaldo was trying to find a replacement truck that had broken down (carrying the luggage for a team coming for the States), and then we were waiting to meet up with the team from the States. As I’ve said before, Brooks and I have gotten used to being the only Americans or English speakers in Huehue, and it was weird to meet 30 Southern Americans in a small gas station convenience store in Huehue. We met the team, comprised of both North Americas who had flown down the day before for this mission trip, and some North Americans that had actually been living in Xela for years as missionaries. By 5pm or so, we loaded into our car and took off for our destination about two hours away. We went first to the host church, met more of the team and had a dinner and orientation for what the week was going to look like. It was weird being a part of a mission trip, but not really being a part of the mission team. Brooks and I felt like we were hard to place the whole time – not Guatemalans obviously, but not really subscribing to the North American label either. To further distinguish our different-ness, instead of staying at the hotel with the other Americans, we ended up staying with a family whose son had previously been involved with the organization. We were originally placed there because the hotel was full, but it ended up being a great blessing, because it saved us some money and we got to know our Guatemalan host family well.

The next day we got up bright and early, and were driven over on moto by the dad of the family we were staying with. Riding on a moto was secretly on my Guatemalan bucket list, and I’m excited that I can cross that one off. We went over to the church, had breakfast, a small worship service, and then went for the first time to the medical mission site. They were offering dental services (teeth pulling actually), medical services (drug distribution essentially), and optical services (honestly, mostly reading glasses). Brooks and I were first assigned to the prayer section of the event, which came last after the person had visited with their respective doctor. Once in the prayer section, we learned quickly that the main purpose of this prayer portion was to convert people to Christianity, and to ask them to accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior right then and there. Although I’m all for praying with people that are going through rough times, I am not interested in conversions and blanket evangelism. Jesus was a relational minister, and I believe it is though relationships we are all called to witness to others. Brooks and I awkwardly struggled through the morning, happy to pray with those that wanted prayer, and fumbling through the conversion spiel when we met someone that didn’t know Christ. Luckily I was saved (no pun intended) by the afternoon, as I was asked to help translate for a nurse from the States over in the medical section. Free from the spiritual and mentally draining experience of prayer (because obviously all these prayers happened in Spanish), I enjoyed my afternoon listening to the laundry lists of issues everyone was facing, and translating them over to the nurse so she could highlight the right drugs to give them. We cleaned up by 4pm, and Brooks and I went back to our house for a quick nap, and a confused debrief of what we had just been a part of. Obviously a lot of emotion and perplexity came out of this experience, but one of my leading thoughts for the week was how happy I am that we can be here in Guatemala, somewhat as Christian missionaries, but without the quick conversion, Evangelical component. After our nap we went over to the church, took a shower (because our house didn’t have running water), and had dinner with the group. After dinner, we all shuffled into the church sanctuary, where church services were being held all three nights the team was there. They began labeling them as “Miracle Nights”, and after worship songs, and a long Hell “fire and brimstone” sermon (given by an American and translated into Spanish), everyone would be invited to the front to be prayed for and to ask for God to do miracles in their life. Again, not my type of church service. I believe that God is capable of doing miracles in our lives, but I do not subscribe in the type of statistical, mass-produced miracle they were asking to be performed. Brooks and I went back to our house that night, confused, exhausted, and overwhelmed.

Thursday was essentially a repeat of Wednesday. We had breakfast in the morning, a small worship service, and then headed over to the medical mission site. I spent my morning at prayer again, this time not worrying about the conversion spiel but simply praying with people, and then spent the afternoon translating. Brooks, because we really could not handle the prayer time anymore, switched himself up to paperwork and greeting, collecting papers and saying goodbye to people as they left. Again, after the mission it was nap, shower, dinner, and church service. It was by Thursday that we both began to realize that the main purpose of the medical mission was not medical, but evangelical. The medical services they were offering were quite limited – the dentist could only pull teeth, the doctors could only pass out drugs (only certain drugs at that) and the eye doctor, although they had a select few prescription glasses, could really only refer them to be fitted for reading glasses, and to buy eye drops at a pharmacy. Although I’m sure a few people were genuinely helped, the majority waited in line for an entire day, some even fainting in line, to receive a few Advil and a prayer. As Brooks pointed out, we were trying to help in a place of entrenched poverty, and the pain and suffering this population had been facing their whole lives could not be cured by anything we could do in one day. Most, when asked what their complaint was, would say they “hurt all over”, pain caused from years of grueling work, in a culture where personal care was limited based on their means to provide it.

Friday, because my spiritual reserves – and also my Spanish abilities – could not handle another day of prayer, I slyly moved over to optical. I ended up being a glasses runner; once people were fitted with a reading glasses prescription, I would walk over with three or four styles for them to choose from. It was a quick day, and I was on my feet most of the time, but I welcomed the change of pace and the break from speaking in Spanish. After the medical mission was over, we packed up all of the eye glasses, meticulously counting each one, and set off home to do the same thing we had done the previous days – shower, have dinner, and go to church. After the church service it was time to say goodbye to the friends we had made over the past three days; although we met many great people from the North American team, there were still many others which we wondered their motivations for coming to Guatemala. The majority couldn’t speak a word of Spanish, and their servant heart didn’t really make themselves blatantly evident.

After the church service our plan was to leave with Guisela and Ubaldo, because they had an event early the next morning in Huehue. We hurried over to our house, packed up our things, and said goodbye to Rosa, who, although awkward at first, was now a dear friend of ours. From there we went back to the church, picked up a friend of Ubaldo’s, and went over to the hotel so Ubaldo and Guisela could get their things and eat some dinner. Although I thought we were in a hurry to get back home, I forgot that nothing in Guatemala really happens in a hurry. We ended up sitting around for an hour or so, eating, drinking coffee, and chatting with some new friends. It turned out the friend we had picked up from the church is the owner of a large company here in Guatemala, as well as some property and coffee fincas. Another man we met at the hotel restaurant was the owner of both that restaurant and another café in Huehue. We ended up talking about the Slow Food movement, the intricacies of coffee processing, and the different types of coffee. They also all talked quite a bit about the orphanage, something near to their hearts, and how to elicit social change in Guatemala. I absolutely loved the conversation, both because I love learning about coffee and enjoyed meeting our first Guatemalan foodie, and also because it was beautiful to meet Guatemalans with such optimism for their country. After the chitchat and dinner, we left in a carpool around 11pm, with Brooks and I actually in the car of Guisela and Ubaldo’s friend. The whole ride Brooks and I were fighting against the urge to sleep, and ended up dozing off a few times in between questions and conversations. We finally arrived home at 1am, called Sheny to let us in, and within minutes I was in my bed, glad to be home and still trying to process the experience I had just had.

The People We Meet

Although I still have about 2 ½ months left here in Guatemala, I again can’t help but notice how quickly my time here is going by, and how soon I am going to be home. And although I was initially very content with the idea of going home after six months – and of course I still really miss home and am excited to return – I can’t help but wonder if I made the right decision to go home after six months. Because the truth is I am really comfortable in my life here, and whenever I think about the day I have to say goodbye to the kids, I get this terrible, that’s-going-to-be-a-really-sad-day, feeling. The other reason I am sad about going home so soon is because we have just begun to meet some really amazing people, and I would love to have more time to grow relationships with them.

Thursday afternoon Brooks and I got coffee with Guisela and Ubaldo, a missionary couple we had met a couple of times at the orphanage, but had never really connected with. It wasn’t until last weekend when we went to the anniversary dance with them, and then again when they gave us a ride home last Sunday, that we exchanged numbers and set a date to meet for coffee. Thursday afternoon, they picked us up and we headed over to Café Museo, where we all ordered a coffee drink and got the conversation started. Sometimes coffee dates with new people can be awkward, because you are trying to come up with enough conversation topics so the silence isn’t uncomfortable. But with Guisela and Ubaldo, the conversation just flowed, and Brooks and I were soon listening in awe, learning about their lives of service. Guisela and Ubaldo are both pastors, and although they used to preach in a big church in Xela, they heard God’s call to move to Huehuetenango and began leading a life of mission here. They have helped grow up a church here, drive two hours to the mountain fincas (coffee plantations) and share the Word there (to mostly illiterate men), they have several discipleship groups, work with street kids, and have even found a new place in their heart, and time in their schedule, to love on the kids at the orphanage. Needless to say, they live an incredible and inspiring life, and it was humbling to listen to everything that they do, which they shared in a humble tone as well. It was easy to see they were just two people madly in love with the Lord, and were taking every opportunity to share this love with others. After coffee, they drove us first to their church, which was a beautiful little building atop a hill in Huehue. Here they shared their dreams of expansion for the church, and further discipleship opportunities. After this, they drove us to their home, where they had been taking care of one of the babies from the orphanage, Florecita, because of a number of illnesses she was dealing with at the time. They not only have opened their hearts and time to so much, but their home as well. There we found out Guisela writes regularly (in English. Her English is amazing) for a Christian magazine in Indonesia, and they also showed us magazines of a group in Eastern Guatemala with a whole orphanage, school, hospital and ministry compound. They shared with us how it was their dream to see something like this in Huehue also. After seeing their beautiful home, Brooks and I had to go quickly to our yoga class, although neither of us wanted to leave. I think we were both on cloud nine of inspiration, and hope to help them with some projects in the future. Although we feel our lives here are full, and we are content with dedicating the majority of our service to the orphanage, meeting them gave us a healthy dose of reflection for our lives here, and inspiration that maybe we could do more.

Once at the gym for yoga, I was hyped up on both inspiration and coffee. I walked downstairs to ask the front desk girl for some toilet paper for the bathroom, and I realized I didn’t even know her name – someone whom we interact with pretty much on a daily basis. She told me her name was Gaby, and we had a good laugh trying to fit the toilet paper into the toilet paper dispenser. Yoga class attendance was low – we started with just Brooks and I, gained a guy and an 11-year-old girl, lost the guy and ended the class with only three. I had been hoping a new friend I had made from the class, a nice Guatemalan girl named Gina who is about my age, would come. But unfortunately she hadn’t made it to the Tuesday or Thursday evening classes, and my hopes of getting coffee with her or having dinner with her family (both things we had discussed) were dwindling. It has been difficult for Brooks and I to meet people here our age, because most of the guys only care about whistling at girls, and the girls only care about being whistled at. But I met Gina two weeks ago in class, and after finding out she was a nice Christian girl who didn’t seem to be interested in unsolicited attention from boys, I really hoped the friendship would go somewhere. Sadly, I have such a short amount of time left here, and the chances of forming a lasting friendship in this amount of time may be slim.

Saturday afternoon, Brooks and I had another opportunity to try something new and to get to know new people. Almost every day, Brooks and I stop at this one tienda near our house to get either “helado loco” (crazy ice cream – basically just homemade popsicles) or chocofrutas. From visiting this tienda so many times, we had started forming a relationship with the family that ran the tienda. The mom even told us one day that we were both very good-looking, and she wanted to take a picture of us to put near her bed. Hmm… Anyway, Brooks and I stopped by the tienda Friday night to get our usual movie night snacks, and one of the daughters (Laydi) ended up inviting us to a social event at her church. Brooks and I had nothing better to do Saturday afternoon, so we gladly accepted. By the time 3pm on Saturday rolled around, we found ourselves sitting inside the house of this family, a house we had only seen before by peering in past the tienda (the tienda was really just a front part of their house kind of sectioned off, with a small gate in their front door so tienda patrons can’t get inside). It ended up that the mom and two of the sisters were going, along with a girl named Michelle who lived down the street. As we walked to the church, Brooks and I learned the names of everyone in the family (for the first time), and groups of people started joining our little group so pretty soon I felt like we were in an introduction to a TV show. The event was interesting – it was mostly just a church service with special tickets, aimed at jovenes (although there were people of all ages there). The message was about love, what love means, and how young people need to honor love, one another and Christ by not having sex before marriage, and not having multiple girlfriends. It was kind of a no brainer message, and Brooks and I were both wishing they had gone deeper in the message. But in a country where machismo rules and healthy relationships aren’t necessarily the norm, this was at least a start. Brooks and I left the service early to head over to the orphanage, content with the growing relationship we were forming with the family. Laydi even ended up telling us she buses all over Guatemala to share the Word, most often going to another small finca town near the Mexican border. She invited us to go with her sometime, so we’ll see if Brooks and I are daring enough to try that as well.

When we arrived at the orphanage (after our ritual Telepizza dinner), we went first to the Kinder’s room, where they were almost literally bouncing off the walls (and dancing and singing for me like they were at a stage performance, tying towels around their waists as skirts). After hanging out with the Kinders for a bit, taking in every ounce of cuteness I was witnessing, I headed over to the Pequeños room. As I was walking over to the Pequeños room, I had a moment of premature nostalgia, realizing again how much I am going to miss seeing such cute and heartwarming things on a daily basis. In the Pequeños room, we found all of the little boys (there are eight of them) sitting on a blanket in their PJs and eating Cup of Noodles with Tikis (a type of chip), looking like they were at a picnic. The boys were so cute, and so funny, hyped up a little on the Pepsi Brooks had just shared with them from our dinner. We learned later that the Cup of Noodles and chips were a treat from their group leader, a 17-year-old named Marta Julia. She had chosen to spend her own money to buy the little boys soup and chips, simply because she knew they liked it; Brooks and I were blown away by this display of selflessness. Seriously, what 17-year-old do you know that would spend her own money to treat eight little three-to-six year old boys, who she has to put up with, dress, shower, and care for day in and day out? Incredible. I finished off this energetic night going over to the Niñas room, where I was staying, only to find that the majority of them were already asleep. The ones that were awake came over to my bed to read a story, and then it was lights out after that.

Being in Guatemala has been an amazing experience, and while I’m glad that it’s not over yet, I’m sad that it will be soon. I think the realization of how special this experience is will not fully affect me until I am home, because it’s almost too much novelty and joy to take in all at once. It’s moments like meeting amazing people like Guisela and Ubaldo, people that give hope to a hopeless country, or moments like seeing eight little boys dressed in PJs, sitting in a circle enjoying Cup of Noodles like it’s the best dinner they’ve ever had, it’s moments like this that make this experience truly inspiring and beautiful.

Mexico Crossing, Dancing, and Parties

First of all, three months ago on Friday Brooks and I left Portland, Oregon to embark on this adventure, meaning I have less than three months left here in Guatemala. I am experiencing a weird mix of emotions where I would like the time to slow down, and yet I am so excited and anxious to be back home in Oregon. It’s weird how normal this life has become for me, and while at the beginning of my experience I would have a million new observations to write about my time here, now everything seems strangely normal. I feel like I am just going about a typical routine, and I need to continue to remind myself that this experience is not normal, and to normalize it is to rob it of something. Although the novelty is gone, I hope the impact if this experience does not stop.

Tuesday and Thursday evenings we had our second week of yoga classes, which went well again. Our class attendance was a little lower this week, and ironically on Thursday there were more Gringos taking the class than Guatemaltecos. We started the class with three Guatemalan ladies, two American volunteers from Fundación, Brooks, myself, and a girl we chatted with after the class who ended up being from the States also. The class participants slowly started trickling away for one reason or another, and by the end we were left with one Guatemalan woman, the girl from the States, Brooks, and myself. We didn’t know if we should switch to giving our instructions in English, because it was so weird to be a in a room in Guatemala where the majority were English speakers. We found out later from talking with the girl, Mary Kate, that she had been living in Huehue about a year now, working with a company, and Brooks and I thought it was so strange we had not seen her before.

            On Wednesday Brooks and I had a grand adventure, an adventure that could have been a lot worse without the help of our friends Linda and LynnAnn. Brooks and I had to renew our visas to stay here in Guatemala, meaning we had to leave the country and come back in again. Although they prefer if you actually leave the country in a plane or for at least 72 hours, we all were not interested in leaving Guatemala for that long. So Linda and LynnAnn picked us up at 8:30 in the morning, and we set out on a drive to Mexico, which is about 2 hours from Huehue. Originally, Brooks and I were planning to make the trip by bus, because we really had no other choice given our lack of a car. But luckily Linda and LynnAnn were getting close to needing to renew their visas as well, and generously offered to take us. This was a Godsend, because it would have been a terrible adventure for Brooks and I, trying to figure out the right places to go, how to cross in a taxi, where to find a taxi… We were eternally grateful for not having to figure this all out on our own. The drive to Mexico was quite beautiful, and when we arrived we had to drive to and get out at three separate points, getting different stamps in our passports and having our car sprayed with pesticides so we didn’t bring weird Guatemalan bugs into Mexico. Luckily the migration offices were feeling especially kind that day, and we got through without much hassle. Our only trouble came when we were five minutes away from our destination in Mexico, a WalMart in Comitán, when we were stopped by a Mexican police officer who said our truck windows were too tinted, and Linda was not wearing a seatbelt. If you know anything about Guatemala, you would understand that every third tienda is a “polarizado” shop, where one can tint their car windows, and Linda’s truck windows are tinted very lightly in comparison to Guatemalan standards. Also, in Guatemala it is rare to ever be stopped for not wearing your seatbelt; and even as we were sitting there talking to the officer, a truck drove by with about six people sitting in the truck bed. We quickly realized they had just spotted us as Gringos, and were trying to get some bribery money out of us. They took Linda to their roadside office, and basically told her just that; they wanted lunch and wanted her to pay for it. Linda walked back to the car, handed them a 100Q bill (about $13), and we were on our way without a ticket. We had lunch at the mall that contained WalMart, trying to kill just enough time to not be suspicious about going in and out of the country so fast. After lunch we did a bit of shopping, and loaded back into the car to head home. We stopped at all the same check points on our way back, and only were hassled a bit when the Guatemalan migration office realized how many times Linda and LynnAnn had crossed to renew their visas on the same day. They told them they couldn’t do that anymore, but hopefully they forget that warning next time Linda and LynnAnn need to renew their visas. After the drive home, we arrived back in Huehue around 6pm, and were invited to have dinner at Linda and LynnAnn’s house. They were too tired and it was getting late, so we decided to order in Chinese food, which was both delicious and reminiscent of the States. After dinner, we all enjoyed an amazing peach cobbler LynnAnn had made, eating while watching an episode of Friends. Brooks and I were so content. Thank the Lord for the gift of these two woman, because without them Brooks and I would probably be missing home a lot more, and would have had a frightening day trying to cross the Mexican border by ourselves.

Friday passed by normally, with a visit to the gym in the morning and to the orphanage in the afternoon. The orphanage was a crazy place Friday afternoon, because everyone was running around trying to get ready for the anniversary dance the following day. Brooks and I took care of some more pen pal stuff, and were quickly on our way home again before nighttime. We finished off the evening just like any good Friday with dinner with our family, and some treats to accompany our Youtube movie. This time we watched Frequency, a movie neither of us had seen in years, but realized was just as good as we had remembered.

            Saturday I woke up still feeling sick (I had started coming down with a cold on Wednesday and it has been progressing), and after breakfast I slept the morning away, hoping my cold would leave me be. Brooks and I had lunch early, and headed over to the orphanage around 1pm to help get the kids ready for the anniversary dance. The orphanage was hosting a dance competition at the local mall, part in celebration of the 14^th year of the Foundation, part as a fundraiser for the Foundation. Brooks and I arrived to all of the older children pristinely dressed in their school uniforms, with all of their hair done up just right. Some of the kids even had face paint on, which they wore for a Japanese dance they did at the celebration (taught to them by Yuka, our Japanese volunteer). Brooks and I found ourselves gravitating toward the baby room, as usually, where we found the only chaos in the whole orphanage. They were trying to quickly change all the diapers and dress all of the babies up in super precious outfits, while fighting with hunger and naps. At one point Brooks and I were trying to comfort about three babies each, trying to give them bottles without getting food on their clothes, changing any last minute diapers, and rocking the ones that just wanted to go to sleep. By 3pm we helped a church group load the babies into various cars, where we drove off to the mall so they could join in the festivities as well. I can’t even describe how cute it was to look into a car window and see about five baby heads popping up. Once we arrived at the mall (basically driving through a river, because it had just poured right before we left and there seemed to be no drainage in the streets), we unloaded all the babies and brought them upstairs, where some strollers and open arms were waiting to hold them. The event went by quite smoothly. Three groups from the orphanage as well as about five other groups from different churches all danced for the audience, and there were judges along the side deliberating on a winner (which we never actually found out who was the winner). At one point Brooks and I left to get snack for the kids, gelatin and chips, and after all the dancing was done, we were mobbed by kids trying to get to their snack. Brooks and I grabbed dinner at the Subway in the mall, and piled back into the baby cars. Although Brooks and I were not very involved in the planning of the event, it seemed as though it was a great success for the orphanage, and it was great publicity for them. As I’ve said before, it is great to see how the community of Huehue comes around the orphanage. Brooks and I joke that although most Guatemalans don’t know their landmarks (we asked three times in the mall where the grocery store was - that is in the mall - and got three different answers), most people we talk to know about Fundación Salvación, which is a really encouraging thing to see. Once we were back at the orphanage, Brooks and I hide away in a classroom to eat our Subway, and then emerged to chat with the kids, pick out our bedtime books, and got ready to spend the night at the orphanage. I stayed again with the little girls (I guess I’m afraid of change. Plus I can’t say no when they ask me if I’ll stay with them), and because my voice was going from the cold, I asked them to read the books to me. One brave girl, Sandra, trudged through reading one of the books, and the rest took the books aside and read to themselves or their friends. We all said a prayer together, I tucked them in, said good night and turned out the lights. It was a quiet night, and I actually got a lot of sleep because they let the kids sleep in until 6:30 the following morning, a real treat after all of the hard work they had put into preparing for the celebration.

            Sunday Brooks and I walked home in the morning, napped until breakfast, had breakfast with Sheny, and each hung out and read until lunchtime. After lunch we were on our way back to the orphanage again, where apparently the party never stops. A church group was putting on an activity for the kids to celebrate “El Dia de los Ninos”, which we have heard three different stories about when the actual “Day of the Kids” was. It doesn’t really matter though; any excuse to have a party is a good excuse. They corralled all the kids in the main room, and had clowns (Guatemalans LOVE clowns), balloons and face paint, and put on a drama about taking away all the bad things in ones life, demonstrated through popping balloons. Although it was a little heavy for the kids (and boring), it was a good message about the saving power of Jesus. After that we all prayed in small groups, and then prayed for all of the workers at the orphanage. This was a very powerful moment, and so encouraging to see 80 kids with their eyes shut tight, praying for the women that day in and day out take care of them. The church group later gave the baby room a new washing machine, which we got to watch Migdalia, the caregiver in the baby room and someone very close to Brooks and I, open. After the washing machine was opened and brought to the baby room, we had pizza, soda, ice cream, a piñata, and more gelatin. Once the group was done and cleaning up, the kids continued to run around, punching balloons in the air, and playing tag with each other. It was one of the craziest I had ever seen the kids, and it was so good to see them enjoying life so simply after such a long and exhausting weekend. Brooks and I got a ride home with two amazing missionaries, Gisela and her husband Ubaldo, who offered to take us out to coffee some day. They are kind and wonderful people, and were actually taking home one of the babies, Florecita, to stay at their home with them that night. Once at home Brooks and I watched a little Arrested Development, ate dinner with Sheny, and figured out what we needed to do the following week. Ironically I had been getting bored here recently, feeling like my life here was too routine and predictable. But this weekend and the following week are proving to be quite busy, and I can look back on those days I thought were boring with calm appreciation.

Lazy, Rainy Weekends

Well, ironically after writing a blog about the importance of being busy, this weekend did not serve to confirm that notion. Luckily, our week was busy enough to make the lazy weekend more acceptable; our schedule shifted a bit with the introduction of our new yoga classes on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. As I wrote last week, Brooks came up with the idea to teach a yoga class at our gym after realizing how few gym classes are available here in Huehuetenango (our gym only has aerobics classes). He asked the girl at the front desk if it would be okay for him to start teaching a class (he may have fibbed a bit saying he had taught before – he has, but only to small groups of friends), and she asked her boss and came back later with an enthusiastic yes. Brooks and I prepared a routine last Sunday, and Brooks spent the afternoon before the class looking up words in Spanish that would be helpful when trying to lead the class. While this was a new endeavor for both Brooks and I, we were excited as well as nervous when Tuesday evening came around. We both put on our best professional faces (signs posted around the gym said the classes would be taught by a “professional instructor”. What? Where did they get that idea?), and we cheerfully greeted everyone that came upstairs. We had a few people in the room close to 5pm (when the class started), and the rest came upstairs in a loud Guatemalan mob after Brooks made an announcement that there would be a yoga class starting. The whole thing went surprisingly well, with Brooks describing every move well, and myself being able to finish the routine while still properly demonstrating everything. And the loud group of Guatemalan men that came up were mostly quiet by the end, with only a few grunts and loud laughs still reverberating. And by Thursday, or class went even better, with more and slightly quieter participants, and Brooks feeling even more confident in his Spanish. It’s definitely a different experience, and very different from the calm and peaceful yoga I have done in the past, but I am so thankful for this new opportunity and the gift it is that we can share with our community here in Huehue.

On Friday, we had a normal morning of breakfast with our family, going to the gym, and hanging out before lunch with our family. Brooks and I decided to change our usual routine of spending the night at the orphanage on Friday to spending the night on Saturday, giving us Friday nights to spend with our family, and time to rest up before having a sleepless night at the orphanage. So Friday, we decided to visit the orphanage as normal in the afternoon. That afternoon Brooks and I again sat down some kids to write their pen pal letter to the States in one of the small classrooms at the orphanage. It has been pretty rainy here in the afternoons lately, and at one point about five kids and myself were stuck in the classroom, which had a metal roof, listening to the rain relentlessly beat down on us. One smaller boy was trying to talk to me, and they were all trying to ask questions, and I really couldn’t hear anything. Some braved the run outside after they had finished their letter, but most waited out the rain, which was some of the strongest rain I have ever seen in my life (and I’m from Oregon). After our visit at the orphanage, Brooks and I got a ride from a very kind orphanage volunteer to Paiz (the grocery store), where we bought the makings for another fruit pizza. Brooks and I enjoy surprising our host family with desserts and food, which, although they are motivated by wanting to give to our family, may actually be more for us than for them; we really miss our American food. After buying our ingredients and walking home, we set away making the giant cookie for our fruit pizza. Unfortunately we needed some ingredients from Sheny’s kitchen, so we told her to close her eyes and we snuck behind her and grabbed some stuff to bring back to Cony’s house with us. There I mixed together the cookie dough, feeling like I was on a cooking show the entire time; Cony was watching intently and asking me to describe what I was doing so she could write it down to later make a fruit pizza at her work. Brooks chopped up all the fruit, and then we brought over our giant raw cookie and the toppings, put it in the oven, and made it ready to enjoy with our family. It was a delicious dessert, and we invited Cony over to eat it with us, having a good night of sitting around the table and chatting. After dessert, Brooks and I went upstairs for our traditional Friday night movie, watching Catch Me If You Can. Brooks only made it through ¾th of the movie, falling asleep somewhere toward the end, but because I hate not finishing movies I stuck it out to the end.

The next morning Brooks and I awoke early to take a walk on a nearby hill with our host cousin, Yessi, and her cousin, Tania, who has been living with the family the past couple of weeks. It was a bit foggy, but the view up the way was still pretty, and the fresh air was a nice change. We ended our walk with Tania and Yessi running a few laps around a soccer field, and then laughing all the way home about a joke Brooks had made about Tania looking at his butt. I helped set up the table for breakfast, and we enjoyed a delicious pancake breakfast with the family. After that Brooks and I each went to our rooms to rest, read, and write. We met up right before lunch, organizing our Pen Pal Program more; we are currently working on rearranging pen pal assignments to make sure every child has at least one person writing to them, and we are getting really close to that goal. After doing pen pal business, Brooks and I went downstairs for lunch with the family, slowly realizing that our plan to go to the orphanage that night may not work out; heavy rain was again falling outside. We went back upstairs, putting together more pen pal stuff, and then tried to brainstorm what we could do that night instead of going to the orphanage. It like we were the two kids in the Cat in the Hat book, desperately trying to think of something to do so we didn’t have to be bored stuck inside. Unfortunately, we realized, a) we don’t have a car here and walking in the rain is no fun, b) there is nothing to do in Huehue (no bowling alley, no movie theater), and c) we don’t have very many friends to hang out with here. We tried to call our friends Linda and LynnAnn, missionaries from the States (and our only friends with a car), but found out that they were in Antigua for the weekend. After that failed attempt, we watched a couple episodes of Arrested Development (which I got Brooks to admit he thought was funny. Success), and resolved to go downstairs to play Jenga (Brooks had somehow discovered the family owned Jenga). We ended up playing in the living room where the family was watching Home Alone 2, and in between games and turns (Tania joined us for the 2^nd and 3^rd game) we watched the movie with them. Although it was dubbed in Spanish, luckily it was at the best part where little language is needed, when the bad guys are getting beat up by all the falling paint and electrified doorknobs the kid rigged for them. It turned out to be a very enjoyable evening, and I think the combination of watching Home Alone (a nostalgic childhood movie, not to mention a movie about Christmas, which always gives one good feelings), playing a game, and just hanging out in a living room with a family was exactly what Brooks and I needed. We finished the evening by eating dinner with the family, and going upstairs to watch The Chronicles of Naria, Prince Caspian on Youtube. Thank goodness for Youtube. Brooks and I have already run through our movies as well as the movies of Linda and LynnAnn, and we both had just finished reading the book and were excited to see the movie again. In a country without Netflix and Redbox, Youtube and pirated movies have saved the day multiple times.

Sunday turned into another lazy day, with breakfast in the morning with the family, and then a morning of napping, reading, and writing. We had lunch with the family, followed by a few more hours of reading, studying Spanish, and watching a new episode of Modern Family online (which was SO exciting for me. I thought I would have to give up my fall shows this year, but luckily there are clever people out there that know how to put them online in a format I can watch in Guatemala!). By 4:30pm, Brooks and I headed out to church, with our bags packed for the orphanage. The past week Brooks and I had asked for song sheets at church so we could follow along with the words, because it’s really difficult to pick up words to songs in a second language just by listening. But as we arrived yesterday, we found that they had set up a white sheet and projector system, displaying the words to the songs. Although they only had the words to two songs printed on overheads, they promised to have more next week, and Brooks and I were blown away by the kindness in this gesture. We decided to leave church early, at 5:30pm, to head over to the orphanage with hopes that we could accompany some of the older kids to a Christian concert they were attending that night. But Telepizza happened to be on our way, and when I suggested pizza for dinner, we both couldn’t say no (which ended up being a bigger blessing than we had anticipated). After pizza we started our walk to the orphanage, and were met by the crowds and crowds of people going to the concert (it was held in a stadium on the same street as the orphanage). There was a line maybe three blocks long, and we kept looking down the line, hoping to find the kids and find out we could somehow go with them for free. We soon realized, though, that if we wanted to go we would have to buy an expensive ticket, and we resolved to just say hello to the kids in line and head to the orphanage to spend time with the younger children. We found out later that only six of the older kids ended up going, half of them having won first place in a contest the day before (Estela for singing, Ismael for dancing, and Roxana for Bible verse memorization). They were treated to the concert by a local pastor, each being allowed to take one friend with them. Brooks and I continue to marvel at the wonderful connections the orphanage has with the people in this town, and the generosity they show towards the children. This was an incredible opportunity for the kids, and such a kind thing for the pastor to pay for. Once we got to the orphanage that night, we organized some more pen pal letter stuff, and then hung out with the younger kids and babies. At one point Brooks had given the leftover soda we had from our dinner to four of the little boys, and as I walked in after they had finished drinking it (quickly), three of the little boys were jumping up and down with energy. It was a great night of crazy energy for the kids, because from there we went to the Kinders room where we had thought they were all sleeping, only to find them jumping between beds, running around, and being generally rambunctious. Brooks and I had a great time tickling them, picking them up and throwing them over our shoulders; I love times when the kids are super joyful and playing like crazy. After tiring myself out from throwing around kids, Brooks and I ran off to the baby room to say goodnight. They were all dressed up in their pajamas, and were so stinking cute. We both rocked some to sleep, played with some, and cuddled with some while watching part of a Spanish cooking show. After an hour in the baby room we finally made our way to the library, got out books to read to the kids, and went to our rooms for the night. I stayed again with the Niñas, and read them Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast. Sometimes I lose their attention when reading books, because most of them can read themselves and are not entirely fascinated by someone with bad Spanish pronunciation reading them a book. But last night, for some reason, they were glued to my every word, crowding around and patiently listening to both stories. After reading the stories I always pass out the books to girls so they can read them on their own, so after finishing the two books I stayed on my bed, cuddling with the ones that had fallen asleep on my lap, and listening to another reading Cinderella again. It was a perfect night. We all got ready for bed, and I tucked them in and turned off the lights. Unfortunately, Estela was not back from the concert yet and was scheduled to return later in the night, and like most of the older girls does not seem to understand voice volume control when others around them are sleeping. She came back from the concert around 11pm, knocked loudly on the door, turned on the lights when I let her in, and decided to have a loud conversation with me about the concert. Estela is a sweet girl, and I really enjoyed hearing about the concert, but I felt bad for the younger girls that had already been asleep for an hour and a half. Finally, Estela turned off the lights, and the next interruption of the night was her phone alarm going off only an hour before we were supposed to get up. By 5:30am Brooks and I left the orphanage, and that was when I heard what a blessing it was that we had not eaten at the orphanage the night before. Brooks was staying in the room with the younger boys (with a medium-aged boys room connected), and he told me that at about 4am this morning all the boys began waking up with the strong urge to go to the bathroom. And unfortunately, some of the younger boys had not been quick enough, and had already gone to the bathroom in their beds. I don’t need to go into too many details, but he said essentially they had all gotten sick off of the food the night before, and many had either pooped their beds, or were waiting in a long line to use the already waste filled toilet. They were cleaning up and wiping off poop all morning, and when the boys were finally showered and in their school uniforms, both the toilet and shower drains had clogged, and a big, brown mess was left for some poor soul to clean up. I counted my blessings that I had not stayed in that room, that the Niñas didn’t seem to have had the same digestive problem, and that Brooks and I were already wary enough of orphanage food to choose to eat pizza instead. I certainly dogged that bullet, although poor Brooks did not. Luckily, he recognized it’s just one of those things one can either laugh at or be appalled by, and we both chose the former.