more than once...

- from visit to Walker Scultpure Garden, December 27th, 2008

airport greetings

i'm in the managua airport waiting to fly home!

the air conditioning is on too high and i'm chilly. i think my system is in for a shock :) i might not write much during these next few weeks but wanted to say thank you to those of you who continue to read this and to all who send me your care in all of the incredible ways that you do. i am beyond blessed.

arms grown strong...

The last of the students left today and I slept for three hours this afternoon. I've been utterly exhausted these last few days. The students presented their finals on Wednesday, we went to la Laguna de Apoyo for a day long retreat on Thursday (see pics) and then Friday did errands and evals and went out dancing. Our first airport run was at 5:00 am, so none of us slept much - if any - and naturally, emotions ran high.

It was bizarre to watch them all go, bizarre to remember my departure from Mexico four years ago. I left kicking and screaming then, cried for days and I remember being terrified of the transition. And through all of the goodbyes the last few days I didn't cry, not even once. I suppose this can be attributed to me getting older and having been through a few more transitions, but it still seemed odd to me. Maybe I just felt like I had to be strong for them? Although there were times when tears would have seemed more appropriate; I don't know.

The closest I came to tears was during one of our reflection sessions, when one of the girls talked about how she feels that she has fallen in love with Central America. When she said it I could see in her, through her tears, that she really did feel heartbroken to leave. I remember that feeling; I think she'll be back. I'm excited to see what they do - that intensity of sadness and purpose usually turns into some kind of action.

This afternoon I read an email from my dad and it wasn't sad, but I just broke down in tears. I'm ecstatic to go home in a few days and I adore this job, but I really will miss them.

Y si alguno de ustedes esta leyendo esto: Espero que hayan llegado bien a sus casas, que esten descansando (espiritualmente y fisicamente) con familia o amigos o quien sea que te llene. Me impresionaron un monton y les voy a extranar muchsisismo.

in those days,
we finally chose
to walk like giants
& hold the world
in arms grown strong with love
& there may be many things we forget
in the days to come,
but this will not be one of them.

la purisima!

I learned today, this 7th of December, that the virgin Mary was immaculately conceived on this very day (however many years ago that would have happened). And you better believe that in the Catholic Church this is reason enough to celebrate, or at least go to mass. My coworker was explaining that in the states today is known as one of the days of 'Obligation' or something similar (no offense to Catholics if I'm mistaken; I really am just now learning about all of this).

However, in Nicaragua it's one of the largest holidays of the year and is celebrated with fireworks and a Halloween-esque tradition in which people set up altars to the virgin in their home and then give out food or candy to people who enter and sing a song of praise to 'la purisima' (the incredibly pure one: Mary).

My friend Eliett invited me to her home and it really was a lovely evening. We were walking around the neighborhood, waiting in lines to sing at different altars (me mostly pretending to know the words...I don't think I was fooling people) and the streets felt electric in the best way possible. Imagine Halloween, without the scary stuff and for everyone, not just kids and creepy teenagers.

One of Eliett's relatives said "Today no one is hungry, even those who don't have anything". Anyone is welcome to come sing and receive the food that's given out. Do I personally believe that Mary was immaculately conceived on December 7th? Not really, but I do now love this holiday. I loved the way it's celebrated, the fact that people here go all out for this kind of stuff (you wouldn't believe the fireworks in the last 24 hours) and the belief it encourages in the idea that the best way to celebrate is by singing and giving, to whomever happens to show up.

"Que causa tanta alegria?!"
"La concepcion de Maria!"

- refrain shouted through the streets

trash...

We visited the city dump today. And I realized, I don't think about trash as much as I should. A few years ago, when I visited Cuernavaca, they had run out of places to take the trash and so people were just piling it in the streets. Two weeks without the trucks that cart the waste away and the city almost couldn't function. That was one of the first times the reality of trash really hit me in the face, today was another.

And today it wasn't just about trash, it was about the trash people and the boy on the back of the bus.

Here, there are so few resources that some 160 families have made their homes inside the dump. They live on top of the smoking piles of waste and spend their days sifting through garbage for bottles, scrap metal, plastic bags, cans, anything they can sell to the intermediaries. Their children work with them; when they're young (3-4) they may sit watch over things collected, later on they begin sorting or searching. The woman we spoke with guessed that they make between 2 and 4 dollars a day and while they don't have to pay rent or transportation, many of these families only eat once a day.

It's an entire community, there on top of the trash; they have schools and food vendors that come in to sell to the collectors, and a small clinic that an NGO set up. And yet, many times of the year the flooding is bad enough that they can't leave the dump, there's just no way out. In the dry season they deal with fumes and smoke and fire that often engulfs much of the landfill.

And it really did hit me today, just smacked me upside the head. We drove around and saw it all through the windows of our air conditioned Toyota Cruzer and I felt myself detaching from the emotional windstorm inside. A long list of questions formed in my head (how did this start? what is the government doing about it? do most people here in the city know? what's the alternative? if they were offered one would they take it? etc.). I do this, I've realized, when I'm not sure how to process all of the grief and disbelief that gurgles in such situations; I turn to questions.

But the whole way through there was this little boy on the back of our bus. As soon as we entered the dump he ran after us and hopped on the back ladder, holding on to our bus with one hand and to his jar of glue with the other. At one point we tried to ditch him and he ran after us for blocks, tenacious as fuck (symbolism I wanted to ignore). He was inches from me; and suddenly my questions seemed grossly inadequate.

We stepped off the bus (I, a tad unwillingly, I'll admit) and the ugly got uglier. Garbage under our feet, smells I care not to remember, smoke burning our eyes and the little boy walks up and grabs me, continues asking for money. I felt so white, so privileged, so guilty, just standing there asking our guide questions. And then we got back onto the bus. And drove away.

And my questions surged again. Of course they are grossly inadequate but without them I'm not sure what to do. I won't stop asking them; at this point, I don't think I could. These people deserve answers or at least attempts at answers. Today it feels like attempts at questions are all I've got to offer. Hopefully attempts at answers are somewhere down the road.

the ears of my ears awake...

I'll admit it; I've been a tad crabby this pre-Thanksgiving season. Yeah it's hard to be away from family, yeah we'd probably rather be eating turkey than chicken, and for those of us from the north, something about 95 degree weather doesn't really put us in the mood. But it has been good for me to see the students be as excited as they are - apparently I need to be reminded that a whole holiday based on gratitude is a pretty incredible thing.

And thus, I begin with a vastly limited version of my list: I have a job I love with continual opportunities to meet and see and learn amazing things. I have a network of family and friends that support me and send me love everyday in all sorts of ways (email, facebook, snail mail, prayers, songs, the list goes on...) and give me a foundation and center in all of my ventures.

I'm also thankful this year to be in a place that reminds me how important it is to pay attention, to work actively to raise awareness and to consciously choose to be truly awake. Attentive to the realities of people in other places, aware of the part we play in it all, awake and celebratory in the beauty with which we are still showered regardless. Whenever I let myself really revel in gratitude for a time 'i thank you God' by e.e. cummings comes to mind. he expresses, in far more beauty than i could hope to, gratitude for and the joy in awakening. happy thanksgiving.

i thank you God

i thank you God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today;
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings; and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any -- lifted from the no
of all nothing -- human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

-- e.e. cummings

escape to the country...

I should have posted last week, upon returning from our rural homestay...but for some reason it has seemed especially difficult to verbalize what it was about the community that so impressed me. In other places we have heard moving presentations about the history of the community, we have seen incredible organization, we have been welcomed into homes.

But this place, this place just felt healing almost. Granted I think we all felt a little trapped in Managua, and who doesn't feel slightly liberated upon leaving the city - but even taking those things into account, this community just struck me as remarkable. I think everyone felt it; students spent late nights talking and dancing with families, afternoons out riding horses, climbing up the center of an old enormous tree, hiking through the mountains, getting to see a little of their fair trade coffee farming and learning how to 'coffee cup' (sort of like wine tasting, for coffee). We all wanted to stay longer and many vowed to return.

What made that place so alluring? I'm still not sure I know but it seems like it's got to be the combination of natural beauty and the genuineness of the people in their interactions with both us and each other. It was certainly a blessing for us to be there.

I'm lucky enough to know that I'll go back in January with a short term delegation of college students and again with the spring semester group. It's much easier to say goodbye when you know you get to return.

released!

well, the streets of managua have settled down and while the 'official' results have not yet been released, the unofficial official results were thrown at the people on wednesday (or was it thursday?...sorry i can't remember) and things have calmed. other cities are still experiencing turmoil, but here in managua we were free to spend the weekend out and about.

and having been released, i very much enjoyed the weekend out of the house. we went out to dance twice and spent saturday with the students on a day trip. we visited an active volcano (we could look into it, but no molten lava...sorry...tory informs me this is not nearly as cool), went to Masaya for lunch and an artisans market (where i purchased jewelry) and then did a group check-in in Granada.
it's been a lazy sunday and i've been putting off work and packing all day. we're headed out to the country for the better part of the week (mon-thurs) and i really should go prep. thank you for all of your prayers and well wishes over the last week - they are greatly appreciated.

continuing unrest...

It's been a few days since the protests/riots started, and it hasn't been non-stop but it has been destructive - seems to calm down at early morning and then start back up late afternoon. I found a few more pictures, and the story has definitely hit the international news so you can easily find information on it online if you're interested. I also added some pics to my last post.

They will supposedly announce the official winner of the election this afternoon - so we're expecting chaos of some sort tonight. Large groups of people are already in the streets ready to react.

As for us - we've been in the house nearly non-stop for four days now. We're going a little stir crazy, but we're safe. Keep praying if you think of it and thank you for the well wishes.

coraje en las calles...

i've been looking at this blank screen all day and while the students are putting off their homework, i've been doing all sorts of my own procrastinating. i want to, and need to write today - but how does one convey the coraje (rage) of an unheard people?

here in managua the municipal elections were held yesterday. people weren't thrilled with the candidates or the political parties and many predicted violence, but it didn't actually start until today when it became fairly certain that some pretty major electoral fraud had taken place.

the president's party claimed the victory early, but the opposing party went out into the streets to protest, to 'defend their vote'. i stood there watching the footage of streets just blocks from our house...of people screaming at each other in the streets, throwing out threats to the opposition, boys breaking apart rocks to throw at the people on the other side, groups destroying 'citizen power' campaign huts, bloody bodies being carted out...and it all seemed so surreal. i just wondered, who would go out into that by choice? but what other choice do they have? in a country where so many don't have anything - don't have food to eat, don't have land to farm, don't have a house for their family - i guess i can see why there's so much rage when they take away one thing they are supposed to have, their vote.

it also made me incredibly grateful for the democratic process in the states. i thought about how upset i was in the 2004 elections, how enormous my feeling of despair was, and at the same time how i still knew that our votes had been counted and that the people had decided. i can't imagine that feeling of despair on top of feeling like the system was completely broken.

today feels heavy and anxious and the air is charged. i feel sad and grateful and unjustly blessed. we're all staying indoors and the house is safe (please don't worry about my safety) but if you think of it, pray for resolution and transparency.

a little reflection on redistribution...

unbelievable that it's election time at home and in a few days (God-willing) we'll finally have an outcome. i certainly haven't had to withstand all of the political ads and bombardment that you've all endured these last few months, but even here the election is a big deal. i think people all over the world are holding their breath to see what happens, to see who we pick, to see if we factor citizens of other countries into our decision.

it's also been interesting to see how 'redistribution' and 'socialism' have become words used to instill fear these last few days. now, i'm certain that you're all aware of my political leanings - and i don't write this to try to sway your vote...although if i could, i'd be thrilled :) no, really though, obama and mccain aside, i want us to ask ourselves why we're so afraid of redistribution? and is it moral or 'christian' to be against it?

in class today our professor showed us 'the champagne glass' - which is an image to help us visualize how concentrated the resources really are. this was the cover of the UN's annual report in 1992, and at the time the richest 20% of the world's population consumed about 80% of the world's resources. sadly, in the last 16 years things haven't gotten better. and being in the middle class, in the united states, i'm undoubtedly, gluttonously, swimming around in the top of that glass.

i guess i just saw this image again today and had a gut reaction to it. i felt convicted by it and, and obligated to share it. i felt obligated to speak out for redistribution as so many are slamming it, to encourage people to look at the facts, and ask some questions. why are we so afraid to share resources? why are we ok with the fact that this just keeps getting more exagerated? why do we continue to put people into power who support this set up?

i'm not always as eloquent as i'd like to be, but i love that you're all willing to listen/read and love it even more when you comment or start conversations with me about it all. i hope that my questions come through as just that - questions, and not condemnations. and i hope that they always come through with love.

bienvenidos a nicaragua...

well, new month, new country. last week we arrived in managua, nicaragua, our third, and final home city.

we had last week off for vacation so i got a chance to travel around and explore nicaragua a bit before programming starts. i saw some amazing things and really fell in love with a few places; but after getting to see the last two countries the way i did - narrated with peoples' personal stories and drenched in the context of their history and politics - i felt somehow like my feet weren't on the ground. i'm ancy to start learning the story of this place.

in the meantime, i'll include a few visuals of my week off. the first is a pic of the first island i visited, home of two volcanoes and the monkeys seen in the pic (first time i've ever seen monkeys in the wild and there was a baby!) and the picture of the cathedral is from granada.

Like You

Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky blue
landscape of January days.

And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the bud of tears.

I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.

And that my veins don't end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.

- Roque Dalton, translated by Jack Hirschman

an open plea...

I've been overwhelmed this month by people's openness to us as United States-ians. It seems that with the influences that our government has had in the history of this country, people would be a tad more hostile. However, while our government was supporting the military, there were a great deal of individuals, and organizations supporting the people of this country - and they have not forgotten it. They express gratitude for past support and for our continuing to come to their home to hear their story. I feel so blessed to be here, listening to these stories.

Having grown up with such extreme privilege, it's easy for me to forget that not everyone gets a voice. Not everyone gets to tell their story and be heard - and man do these people have stories. And when they finish I often find myself sitting there, overwhelmed by the heaviness and strength in their testimonies, overwhelmed by the responsibility of knowing it all.

And then, almost without fail, as if knowing that the question of 'what now?' is hanging in the air, they just ask us to tell it again, to whoever will listen. It's such a vulnerable, open plea for the spreading of truth. Such an idylic belief in the idea that if people know what happened - it's less likely to happen again. So here I am, being repetitious, and perhaps overly reflective - but I'm glad that you're here listening/reading. It can feel like it's all too much, but i know that this is a first step. Thank you for caring about me and for caring about these stories and these people that continue to teach me about how connected we are to each other.

"a generation or two ago no one knew what was going on here - and that's why all of this craziness could happen."

- professor at local university, San Salvador

a four block walk...

So it may not the most socially responsible consumption - but man. oh. man. do I love Cinnabon. And I have certainly never lived within a four block walk of a Cinnabon...but I do now, which is dangerous and wonderful. Who would have guessed, in El Salvador.

Entertainingly enough Cinnabon's mission statement here is: Hagamos que nuestros visitantes digan "WOW!"/We make our clientes say "WOW!". Ha. That's my coworker Joe in the photo, he's a fellow (and perhaps even bigger) fan of the bon.

Well, that's globalization for you...and in this case, especially on a tough day when I'm missing home, I'll take it.

community exemplified...

Mud, bugs, extreme heat, bad roads, kinds of toads and spiders i've never seen, bucket baths, latrines...yup, sounds like a weekend in the country. Truly though, for all of the discomforts it was beyond worth it to see and experience this community first hand.

The members that now make up the community left their homes for safety during the war. They fled to one of the few overcrowded refugee camps - 400 people in a church basement with one bathroom. There was little to no food and if they left the church they would be killed by the military - outsiders occasionally took risks and visited them, to bring food and, eventually, to help them leave the country.

With the help from a British man, they escaped to Nicaragua and lived there as refugees for 10 years. They hadn't known each other before the refugee camp, but they organized, formed a co-op to work communally and essentially became each others new family. And when they decided they wanted to return to their country, they weren't allowed. The government was threatened by an empowered group and feared they would be a political base for the guerrillas.

To make a long, powerful story shamefully short, they protested and fought and eventually made their way back into El Salvador - with a new communal plot of land. As part of the Peace Accords at the end of the war, the government agreed to redistribute the land. However, they were against the idea of giving it to a group of people rather than individuals - organized groups are threatening to the status quo. This community had become bonded enough that they fought to receive their land communally; they created a communal daycare, gave each family a piece of land to work individually, built homes for all together, and have developed the best educational system in the region.

What struck me as most moving is that the community has truly been a support network for the individuals within it. over the last 15 years, nearly all of the surrounding areas (whcih took their land in individual plots) have lost most of their land - poverty prevails and when land is all people have it's too easy to sell it for medicine or school or debt. However, in this community, it's not an option to sell. You have your land to work, but it's not yours to sell. You're part of a whole; and your success directly affect your community's success. These people work so ridiculously hard to continue to improve the lives of those around them.

I think in the face of affluence it's easier to forget the ways in which we are connected to our communities and the incredible potential for strength that's there. Perhaps this will be become more apparent as we get a little less comfortable in the states. Certainly this community isn't without it's flaws, but it was beyond encouraging for me to see this sense of community lived and out and exemplified so beautifully.

plantas de fuego!

one of the larger components of my job is to accompany students to the doctor/hospital when they aren't feeling well. i've been there every day since sunday, usually with digestive issues...but last weekend presented a new scenario.

in groups of 2-4 students ventured out to rural Christian Base Communities to study the ways in which people's faith manifests itself in everyday life and in their communities. (i spent the weekend sleeping, catching up on reading and, in general, relaxing.) students came back and raved about the level of organization they saw, the sense of community they felt and the general warmth of the people.

one girl also showed me her arms and made some joke about them being red. they had gone on a hike and something irritated them, it seemed - a rash, we assumed. she took some bendryl and went to bed. throughout the course of the following day (at the beach) the 'rash' turned into some of the most horrific blisters i've seen...ever(this pic doesn't really do it justice). we decided it best to visit the doctor and found out in the ER that she had second degree burns...from a plant!

fortunately the 'burnt girl' just so happens to be one of the most gracious, upbeat people i've met and we actually had a really good time in the hospital - i think we were both just in shock and we couldn't stop laughing about how bizarre it all was.

what? plants that burn? apparently it's a defense mechanism some have developed...and everyone on the hike was worried about spiders. who knew - plantas de fuego. i swear, the learning never stops around here.

six of many...

Heavy day. Full of really necessary learning, but not easy to swallow. We visited a college university here in San Salvador where, near the end of the war, six priests were assassinated by the military.

During the war here in El Salvador there were three main entities: the military, fighting to maintain the system of the time (supported by the US), the guerrillas, fighting for change, for a balancing out of the status quo (often seen as 'communists'), and the civilians. The priests fell into the civilian category - but they were Christians. They were theologians, professors at the university; they were question askers. Through their support and development of liberation theology they presented a Christ that favors the poor, that calls for an end to suffering.

And this was enough for them to be lumped in with the guerrillas, to be considered a threat to the state. Enough for the El Salvadoran military, backed by ours, to consider brutally killing them justified.

That weekend in Nov, 1989 marked the first military action in the capital and included a US supported military "campus check" (which would later be determined as having been used to plan the killings). Two days after the check, the military returned in the night, drug the priests out of their home, shot them, broke open their skulls and spread their brains on the front lawn (the lawn, now a rose garden, shown in pic). Brain matter on the lawn - a strong symbol sent to the people that the military would do anything necessary to kill the ideas, kill any thinkers considered revolutionary.

To know that it happened is saddening, and angering. And looking through the pictures of the tortured bodies was sickeningly heartbreaking...but to know that our government was part of it - that they encouraged the killing of priests who were speaking out about human rights...that seems even harder to swallow.

Much to think about.

share your food

I was gifted with a new spin on an old story in class today.

Peggy was talking about the 'Jesus feeds the 5000' story and pressing us to think on it in new ways - to consider the idea that perhaps Jesus didn't magically duplicate the fish and bread, but that rather he convinced the few who had food to share it with the many, and that in his presence people were encouraged not to consume more than they needed.

And if you think about an angry hungry mob (or any society based on consumption), and then think about what he pulled off - this perspective seems far more impressive to me than the traditional one with which I grew up. What kind of a personality would it take to pull that off?

I don't present this example to be 'blasphemous' - or say that Jesus couldn't have magically duplicated the food. But I know that I'll never pull loaves out of a hat; however, I can learn from and work toward this new example. I feel closer to and more encouraged by a Jesus who organized the masses without magic and somehow got the simple "share your food" message across to the few who had much. And "they all ate and were satisfied" - Luke 9:17

Cuscatlan

Before El Salvador was called El Salvador, it was called Cuzhcatl (in spanish: Cuscatlan) - which means 'land of precious things'. To me this seems both beautifully truthful and tragic in light of many of the country's current realities.

I've been in El Salvador for a few days now and we have certainly been busy. I have been attempting to do my job well, keep up with the assigned readings for the class on liberation theology and still stay connected to the students, with whom I now live. The house dynamic has been good and I actually love getting to be part of the class. It's pretty amazing that we get to read about this stuff (the war, development of liberation theology, etc...) and then go out and meet people who were there, who were influential, who can speak to us about it first hand.

I'll attempt in some of my posts to tell bits of their stories, but I thought that first off, I'd share some context. This truly is a fascinating place that is undoubtedly connected to the United States and our reality in more ways than most of us realize. When I learn some of this stuff I'm just embarrassed that I didn't know it before...and as I learn it, it just makes me want to know more about here, and so many other places that go shamefully unmentioned in our media and our formal education.

If you've got a few minutes read the facts below and welcome to my second leg of the journey.

- El Salvador is the smallest and most densely populated country in Central America. (approx population: 6.7 million people).

The War:
- El Salvador experienced an internal conflict/civil war for 12 years officially (from '81-'92)
- Approx 76,000 people died in the war.
- Truth commissions after the war reported that approximately 85% of the killings and disappearances were committed by the military and 10% by the guerrillas (the rest unknown).
- During the civil war the military of El Salvador received an average of 1.5 million dollars in aid from the United States per day.

Economy:
- El Salvador has used the American dollar as its currency since 2001.
- The average minimum wage is $183/month and the cost of living for a family of 5 is approx: $740/month.
- An estimated 1,000 Salvadorans immigrate to the United States each day.
- many predict this number will increase dramatically (even double) if the left political party loses the upcoming election in March 2009

la escuela de la montana...

so my week in the mountains is done and it was an excellent time. i've been stressing about how to write about it all...i'll write a bit now and if more comes to me later i'll post and backdate it (hope this isn't too confusing)

time there (my verse wasn't all that entertaining, but the song in after our evening at the coffee cooperative i headed to 'the mountain school' with a smaller group of students (just 6 of the 18). we spent a week studying spanish (the little hut in the picture there was my classroom), eating meals with a local family, participating in the school's scheduled activities and general community livin'. it was really fun to get to know the students better and a late night beetle incident with one of the students made me laugh so hard i cried - first time that's happened since i left home. it's incredible how rejuvenating laughter can be. we finished the week off with a rap that students wrote about their its entirety cracked me up) and a really great graduation evening with the teachers.


it rained every day and everything was wet and chilly for the whole week, but if they send me back in February i'll be more than happy to return.

peace harmony love coffee...

so, my little brother danny enjoys giving me a hard time about just about anything - and makes no exception for my somewhat idealized thoughts about the fair trade 'peace harmony love' process. i think that deep down he believes in it as well, but it certainly does present a prime opportunity to get a rise out of me.

anyway, i digress - last weekend we got the chance to visit a place that actually sells their coffee through the peace coffee company. i want to write all about the experience, but for safety reasons i'm hesitant to disclose details and without having visited it's difficult to imagine - but i'll describe a little...and attach a few photos.

to begin: the sign at the entrance says of the community says, "together, we build a true democracy, with our hearts to the left". the community itself is a settlement of former guerrillas (people fighting against the government during the war) who had nothing after the signing of the peace accords. through a loan, they acquired their coffee growing land and began to build the type of community in which they desired to live.

they took us on a walking tour of their property. it's gorgeous country, and for me even more so knowing that it's collectively owned and people are benefiting, are being given the chance to better their community due to their 'profits'. it certainly hasn't been an easy path - the leader with whom we met talked extensively of the paradigm shift they all had to undergo in order to change from 'campesinos trabajadores' (farmhands) to 'campesinos productores' (producers/business owners) and how that shift demanded that they organized themselves in a new way.

they work extensively to meet the organic and fair trade requirements, they pay the necessary fees to sell in fair trade ($1,200/yr) and organic (approx: $3,000/yr) markets...and their profits aren't huge. their living standards are very basic - but they are grateful to have electricity, a school, and running water. above all - they spoke of gratitude to have opportunity.

in the mountains...

well - we're headed out to the mountains for a week of 'rural experience'. this week has finished up well. should be good but i'll be without internet and phone. i'll let you know how it went once i'm back.

hallowness...

It's hard to hear about difficulties at home when one is so far away. We never really get taught how to grieve losses or how to comfort those experiencing loss but we certainly all develop our own methods. Yesterday - in the face of some heavy emails and a personal loss I was driven to my own coping methods: a chat with Tory, an ice cream cone...and then I still needed something more.

I'm very much a 'words person' and so I took to reading old emails (yes - I'm fairly obsessive about archiving all emails I receive). Above all, words from people with whom I've lost touch. I found comfort in the fact that although we no longer write, I can continue learning from them and continue feeling their love and care. A dear friend wrote a few years back while we were both embarking on new and somewhat overwhelming ventures in our respective careers. He spoke to the emptiness we can feel and the opportunity that it creates in us. I just loved this chunk when I reread it last night:

"I feel called to what i do and my hollowness is only creating more room for God to work in and shape my life. I can't wait for that mighty rushing wind to come through, cause it feels like i'm running out of my own, and i'm going to need a lot to get through the next few weeks. I don't doubt that it will happen, I'm just intimidated by what it will do and feel like in me."

What a beautiful and humble expression of faith. Thank you all for your words as I continue learning on this newest of journeys (and now you know you're being archived!) - I'm beyond blessed with deep friendships and incredible family.

extremes...

I just spent a few minutes looking through pictures from this weekend and smiling. We had today (Monday) off because it’s independence day here today – a long weekend for students and staff included. The students headed to the lake (Lago Atitlan) and we headed to the capital city for some fun with one of our coworkers Ruth – she’s a Guatemala City native and a sweetheart. The weekend was full of fun conversations and luxuries including (but not limited to) a morning at a lovely salon, a wonderful lunch and a cinnabun for dessert, a massage, a new pair of skinny jeans and a fabulous evening of dancing.

And although all of the previously mentioned things were wonderful, the best part about this weekend was feeling like I have friends down here. Joe (my coworker) and his girlfriend Elliett are wonderful and silly and do a great job at including me in general, and Ruth is just as great. Perhaps not what most people imagine my life down here to look like, but hey, Central America is certainly a place of extremes. This weekend – extremely good.

la claridad...

“Si en la casa hay oscuridad – nunca va a lograr claridad en la comunidad. La claridad tiene que empezar con la familia y luego extender a la comunidad”

“If there is darkness in the home – clarity/light will never be achieved in the community. Clarity must begin in the family and then be extended to the community.”

– a female ex-guerrilla combatant, and her thoughts on achieving peace/clarity

weekends away...

Although our primary operations are happening here in Xela (Spanish classes and speakers presenting various stories from the war), we also venture out often. Last weekend we headed to Chichicastenango – a smaller city about 2 hours from here. It was a good weekend trip; it’s so much easier to travel with this kind of operation than on the chicken buses, I’m getting spoiled quickly. We all stayed together in a hotel and it was great time for the group to process what they have heard thus far and just be together after a week apart in their homestays.

On Saturday we got to visit a group of women whose husbands died during the war. They have formed a sewing cooperative and sell many of their items to groups like ours and through organizations like Ten Thousand Villages. I’ve been working on moving towards buying fair trade goods, and have talked about it with friends and family at home – but it can be hard sometimes for a ‘thrify’(/cheap) person like me to fork up the extra cash….Needless to say it was very encouraging to meet some of the actual people who benefit from such fair trade systems and will hopefully be something that sticks with me. (Shameless plug for them but…If anyone’s interested you can check out Ten Thousand Villages online at: http://www.tenthousandvillages.com/)or visit their store in St. Paul.

It was also fun to spend most of the day on Sunday in the market – I was battling a cold and a headache, but didn’t let that stop me. I spent the entire morning just wandering, haggling, purchasing, people watching, it was wonderful. And now we’re back here in Xela, with four days to recoup until our next weekend adventure.

observations from the second time through...

It seems like I’ve been on the go since I started this little adventure, but Xela (pronounced ‘Shay-la’) is beginning to feel like home base and I really like it here.

Life is funny, a few years back when my little brother Mark and Dan Marx were in Mexico we decided to take a road trip down to southern Mexico and perhaps see a bit of Guatemala. Due to a number of unexpected turns in the road we actually ended up on a chicken bus that brought us right here to Xela. When I rode back into town two weeks ago, our van turned the corner and we headed toward a hotel across the street from the hostel I stayed in 2.5 years ago. It gave me this sensation that life is much more cyclical than I realize; and I’m not a big believer in ‘fate’, but I was also overcome by the feeling that I’m back here to learn something that I didn’t pick then. We pulled into the hotel and I felt resigned – in the best possible way – to keep myself open to whatever it was I missed the first time around.

So maybe my spirit was ‘pre-warmed’ to this place, but I feel at peace here. It’s the second largest city in Guatemala, but it’s nestled in the mountains and the people are very friendly. We’ve stayed mostly in the center, but around here I feel like I know my way around, I can be independent when I need to get thins done, but we’re all close enough to each other that people are accessible. And the climate is, in my opinion, pretty close to ideal for the time being: chilly (fall chilly, not MN winter chilly) in the mornings and warm/hot in the afternoon with occasional rain.

mi madre nueva

so i finally met my host mom! i was scheduled to move in with a family on sunday, but due to a few unforeseen circumstances it got put off until yesterday afternoon. she's a sweet woman who lives just around the corner from the language school. my room is enormous, my bed is really comfortable and i had a hot shower this morning...so as far as homestays go - excellent. she said she was pleasantly surprised that i already speak spanish and we chatted at length this morning. seems like she's a loner - no kids, no husband, parents are dead, doesn't get along well with her siblings that live in town. hasn't mentioned friends. she has a shop in her home and so works from home...i hope i can offer some good companionship for a few weeks in return for her open door and good food.

Friday’s

So I had this amazing burger at TGI Friday’s. And then I started feeling guilty. I was watching our waiter, with all of his flare, and wondering how much he gets paid hourly. I asked my coworkers and they responded – ‘probably about minimum wage’.

Minimum wage here in Guatemala is about 37 Quetzales a day, which comes out to about 5 dollars a day – not an hour, a day. In Guatemala ‘minimum wage’ is actually more like a maximum wage; it’s what’s written in law but that doesn’t mean it’s what you actually get paid. That being the case, on top of the fact that the cost of operation down here is far less – you’d think I would have gotten a deal. But I definitely paid about 8 dollars for the meal – not including my drink. Eight dollars! And best case scenario, pins-and-buttons-guy (our waiter) takes home five? Something’s wrong – someone’s making a little too much money here.

It’s easy not to think about this stuff, and it’s easy to assume that they get paid 5 dollars a day because that’s about what they need to live in Guatemala – but that’s just not the case. We don’t even pay a livable minimum wage to our own people in the US, let alone the foreigners we outsource to power our American corporations abroad.

I know that I’m ‘getting political’ by bringing this stuff up - and I understand that economics aren’t simple – but why do we think it’s ok to take economic advantage of people just because we can? I'm sure that there will be many other questions I post here along the way. Always feel free to comment, I love a good discussion - even if I'm a few countries away.

All my best to all of you!

futbol!

So – I played soccer today. That might not seem like that big of a deal to those of you who don’t know me all that well, but…well, it is. I guess it just needed to be part of my job before I’d venture back into an athletic game, but I did – and…get this: I actually enjoyed myself. I wasn’t that good and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow (running around for an hour at 6,000 feet is something to which my body certainly isn’t accustomed) but I had a good time.

And beyond that – it was a good lesson in humility. Every day we’re asking these students to make themselves look stupid as they try to communicate in toddler level Spanish. I was there once, but it’s been a while and while I still make mistakes, I’m comfortable doing so at this point and usually realize when it happens. It had been a while since I had felt as exposed and untalented as I did when we started today...and then I got over it. And that felt really good.

two weeks in...

It’s Friday night and the majority of the students are hanging out together in the room next door. It’s been a long week of orientation activities and ‘getting to know you’ games – but it seems to have worked, they’re all ripping on Arnold in a terribly dubbed version of “The Predator” and continuing with their own version of ‘getting to know you’.

With both my week of personal orientation, and now the week with the students here I’m two weeks in and feeling good. And while my first week of personal orientation was really good, it’s been so encouraging for me to have the students here. They all bring stories and knowledge and senses of humor that are such fun to get to know – turns out I sort of like meeting new people : )

I’m also grateful to be here with a community. This program believes so strongly in learning in community and sharing what we’re each going through with each other. I knew coming in, but it has certainly been reinforced that the subject matter of this semester will be heavy indeed. And it’s not just hard to hear because it’s tragic and sad, but it’s hard to hear because having heard these stories, and knowing these people puts huge responsibility on each of us as receivers of that information. I’ve already spent some time feeling overwhelmed by it all – but I’m content to be in a place that refuses to let me be complacent. And, because we’re in such tight community – we don’t have to process this all alone. Which I’m also excited about.

(An afterthought: While re-reading what I’ve written thus far I realize that my posts have been lacking in specifics about the actual things that are impacting me…it’s too late tonight to write more (I think it’s time to head out dancing) but I promise to attempt to include more of that in the future).

where in the world...

Since I would have *bombed* the Carmen Sandiego challenge as a child (and even/especially now) I thought I would not assume that others just so happen to know where I am at this moment in time.

So a very short geography lesson follows - many of you will already know these things, and for those of you who don't, there's no need to feel shame. When they offered me the job I also pulled out a map to see exactly where I'd be.

The map above shows Central America in relation to the states (good ol' Texas and Florida representing) and South America below. I drew a black box around the portion of Central America in which I'll be living over the course of the next year - and you can see a close up below (don't be tricked! the box I drew does not include all of Central America).

I am currently in Managua - which is nicely noted with a star. Tonight I will take a bus to San Salvador and on Saturday I will take another bus to Guatemala City. We'll meet the students in Guatemala City on Monday and be there for a few days before heading to a smaller city - I can't wait to meet all of the students, and to be in a place that's not quite as warm as it is here.

That's all I've got today; and I promise that this will be the only geography lesson you'll get from me - I always did like Rockapella more than the geography trivia anyway.

my path...

Greetings! and welcome to my humble lugarcito (little place) online!

Some of you may have read my Cuernavaca blog, some of you may be entirely new to this ‘blogging business’ but I wanted there to be a space in which loved ones could check in on my thoughts and experiences in Central America this year.

I write today from my bed in the Program House in Managua, Nicaragua. I slept 10 hours last night, caught up on some reading, went on a small city tour with my new coworker Joe and am attempting to let my spirit ’sink in’ a tad.

Those of you who have spoken to me about this Internship know that my expectations were vague, to say the least. With each conversation this place and my role in it are becoming more clear, little by little. It’s incredibly warm here today and my body is tired, my head aches, but my spirit - only slightly muted by the heat - is tentatively giddy about the months to come and the path on which I’ve embarked.

Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."

Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."

For the soul walks upon all paths.

The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.

The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

- Kahlil Gibran