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.  

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.