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... | Mission and Outreach News
Back to Mission and Outreach.
It’s Sunday morning and my first chance to see D’Iberville since March. I am anxious to see what has changed. As we drive toward the Orange Grove Presbyterian Church, I notice that the debris in the trees is gone, the blue tarps are missing from most roofs, later that day I will see that the destroyed St. Martin school I took pictures of in March is now nothing but cement slab after cement slab. The Hwy 90 bridge sections that were in the water and leaning against the pilings are gone and work has started on the new bridge. Some of the Biloxi casinos are back in operation. It appeared that things must be looking up for the people in the Gulf Coast region of D’Iberville.
But wait, why is the head pastor not at church, but on the prayer request list? (The session granted him a 2 month sabbatical, as the past 14 months drove him to near exhaustion.) Why are there free personal and group counseling sessions being offered by the church? Why are local residents breaking down when they come to the evening devotions to thank us for volunteering, or when an assessment team stops by their home? One quickly realizes that there is much still to do. A house may have a new roof, but a FEMA trailer still sits in the driveway, which means the inside of the house is still uninhabitable. Looking beyond the outward physical changes, I quickly realize how much work still needs to be done.
Over 200 volunteers are in camp this week. There are chartered buses from John Knox Presbytery, Washington, and New Jersey, plus other groups from Pennsylvania, and North Carolina. There are also two carpentry students from an Iowa trade school volunteering their time this semester. What a wonderful sight.
At the team leaders meeting I volunteer our group to hang doors on Monday. (It will turn into a four day assignment as we make Monroe’s house ready for his finishing touches. While the four of us would have preferred the opportunity to work in more than one home, we realize that we did both Ed and Irene, at the camp, and Monroe a great favor by completing the work at his home.
Irene asked that we practice patience, flexibility, and empathy while we were in D’Iberville. We were able to do just that on Wednesday. Monroe has purchased crown molding for most rooms in the house. Since the corners and walls weren’t square we decided to not miter the corners and to butt and contour the joints instead. After working very hard to finish two walls in a bedroom, Monroe told us that he wasn’t happy with our work. We had a brief discussion, and we all agreed that we would leave the crown molding for Monroe to deal with, and we would focus on trimming out the remainder of the house. That night at camp, dinner was an hour late in being served, and honestly wasn’t worth the wait. A couple of men had done some rewiring in the kitchen that day, and I think their job took longer than they planned. That was followed up with a devotion that lasted an hour, instead of the fifteen to twenty minutes of other nights. The focus was on prayer, for both ourselves and those we came to serve. It was appropriate. After more than one year, the damage and destruction are still beyond belief.
Of course I got to know everyone better. How can you live together for a week, ride 2000 miles and not gain some insight of your companions? Jim, Craig, Scott, and myself worked on the same house all week doing interior trim work. Scott let us in on a little of his Doctoral Dissertation at dinner on the way home. I knew he was interesting and intelligent, but he stirred my curiosity to the point that I am looking forward to further explorations into his thoughts.
I am a little bit disappointed that we did not have an opportunity to interact with more people, but at the same time we did get a lot done, and had the pleasure of completing all of the work that is to be done by volunteers at this one particular house. I now understand that the FEMA money was just a loan and needs to be paid back with cash or an equivalent amount of volunteer labor, and the finish carpentry we worked on is one of the highest pay-back jobs.
Am I glad I went? You bet I am. Another trip in March? We will see.
- Roger As I knocked, I never knew what to expect to find and hear as the door opened. Each home and family had an amazing story. Two things were common: each person was very gracious to us as we asked our multiple questions and (without exception) each person would describe their situation as “blessed because others had it much worse than us”. Please pray for all of D’Iberville; but let me briefly share the stories of two families:
On a street just a short distance from the Bay of Biloxi (the source of a thirty foot wall of water that surged into the city) a retired couple in their late seventies told me of 17 other residents of the street rushing into their home (because it was on property 6 feet higher than the neighbors) only to have water crash in the front door and engulf everything. Their home was in the process of renovation despite neighbors still being in FEMA trailers.
And on a street far from the Bay, a 93 year old man described the terrors of surviving the hurricane only to hold his wife who died a day later because of power loss to her oxygen breathing machine.
The information the Assessment Teams gathered will help form future work crews to rebuild homes. The stories that were so lovingly shared will help form my prayers for the residents of D’Iberville, Mississippi.
- Dan
An excerpt (translated) from a letter from one of ILUGUA’s pastors to First Presbyterian Church follows:
A cordial greeting from our church. We received the visit of brothers and sisters from your church and are happy to have their accompaniment supportive of our pastoral work…..Thank you much for all the support you are giving us, and our hope is that the friendship and the solidarity between us will be strengthened more and more……We are very interested in maintaining communication with you.
A portion of the delegation also visited the community of Las Tunas, which was the scene of the 2002-2004 mission trips. The middle school, Colegio Davenport/CIDETRA has now abandoned its rented building and holds its classes in the new building which was financed (and partially built) by First Pres Guatemala mission funds! A total of 180 students, 7th through 9th grades (including a weekend program), currently attend the school. During the visit, the delegation was presented with a photo of its first graduating class(!) from this past winter. Most of these students have now advanced to a trade or career program at other schools in the nearby city of Jutiapa.
Our deepest thanks to First Presbyterian Church for helping us achieve a part of our dream. The Board of Directors and the students from the 9 communities (and 5 more recently added), who adhere to the principle of good education for its families, give a warm greeting to your church, asking that God always bless your hearts for the support we have received from each one of you.
On Tuesday I had
the opportunity, along with others from our team, to provide the final painting on interior trim as the
carpenters completed the installation. We also were able to assist the carpenters by installing closet
doors and shelving. I was most touched by the gratitude expressed by the owner as she described to us
the damage that had been done and how pleased she is with the results of the restoration work. Her
home had seven feet of water inside and the entire neighborhood was left contaminated by millions of
pounds of rotting seafood that had escaped from a nearby seafood processing plant during the storm.
I, myself, was truly amazed how well the home and yard were restored after suffering so much
damage.
On Wednesday I had the opportunity and responsibility, along with other team members, to install
new electrical sockets and light switches in a house that had been gutted (mucked out) following
extensive water damage. This day provided me the opportunity to see a home in the initial stages of
restoration. It is almost overwhelming how much work there is to do in each home and the number of
homes affected.
By being involved on both ends of the restoration spectrum, on successive days, really provided me
with a sense of personal satisfaction and great admiration of the work being performed by volunteers.
The need for volunteers will continue for an extended period of time with the need for more skilled
craftsmen being most apparent.
Monday, March 21st, 2006
Thursday, March 23
Friday, 24 March
Friday, March 24
Thursday, March 23, 2006: The Day of Judson McKinney
 Thirteen members and friends of First Presbyterian Church, Davenport, traveled to Guatemala from July 17-24, 2004. Their work project involved helping with construction of a classroom addition to Colegio Davenport/CIDETRA, a middle school in the Jutiapa (eastern) region of Guatemala. But the main focus of the trip was on experiencing the culture and building relationships. Following are some of those experiences, as told through the journal entries of mission team members: 
SATURDAY, JULY 17--Guatemala CityThe start of a new adventure. It began early with the preparations of loading buses with duffel bags/suitcases filled with donated supplies and the personal belongings for the week. Any one of us would share that we could feel the “HEAVY” load we would be carrying, but we knew that this “heavy” would be good because we were aware of its anticipated use in Guatemala. We knew and could see how generous our congregation members were in supplying us with these gifts. As I was leaving with this positive mission team, my nervous butterfly feelings began with questions of “what am I doing”-putting myself out there in a situation where uncertainties prevail-communication, security and belief in what personally I can do to help in this mission. As I sat on the plane listening to the stewardess providing arrival notices to Guatemala both in Spanish and English, it became apparent that there was no turning back now. The mission was in front of me. I found myself remaining reserved in using Spanish, maybe afraid that I would say the wrong thing. So I continued to watch and listen to people as we traveled. Once we reached the Guatemala City airport, I found that at the baggage claim area we were not alone as one small mission team. There seemed to be several large groups of people gathering and I can only guess that they, too, were fulfilling a mission here in Guatemala. As we all prepared to leave the airport to meet our challenges in this land, we had to have the correct currency to get around. It made me think of all the organization and details it takes to pull these mission groups together.. I was thankful that our mission team had met sharing some of those management details/itineraries prior to the trip. In the money exchange a Quetzal-is needed which could be compared to our bills/coins. Once this was complete, it was off to connect with Walter, our translator, and make our way to the hotel. Since only passengers were allowed in the baggage claim area, we did not see anyone until we went outside. As we left we could a balcony filled with people shouting or holding signs … very happy people. The sounds and sights of many cars and buses were also in front of us. Like home, many of us found ourselves looking up to see if we recognized anyone. Somehow we connected with Walter- our interpretator/translator/guide (and as the week went on –a good friend!!) and we were on our way. The bus was loaded in a unique way with our luggage going through the window over a rug. How smooth was that! We have to credit our bus driver (Guycho) for his care and comfort in driving the bus all week for us. The city is divided into zones by economic levels. Zone 9 includes some 5 star hotels, nice businesses and architecture impression/structure of the Eiffel Tower depicting a French influence. Zone 3 includes the “dump” and also family homes located on the side of the mountain.. These homes are not soundly built and may be destroyed in a strong rainstorm. YOU could have one of these homes for $3000, payable to the government. Keep in mind the possibility of destruction, very close neighbors, no land, possibly no electricity, no transportation except to walk or catch the “chicken bus" in considering the purchase of such a home in Zone 3. We passed through many different zones/scenes that included political statements shown on rocks, graffiti, and litter on the ground. I kept a watchful eye for something I could read and understand and what I found were businesses such as Burger King, McDonald’s, Shell, Toyota, etc. Passing on the roads were cars, pickup trucks filled with construction tools or materials, and chicken buses that were zooming in and out of traffic.. These “chicken buses” were filled with people and bags of food and wares. There is usually no space left on these buses for any additional passengers and sometimes the door was open with a person hanging out motioning drivers to make way for them. It was quite a sight seeing people on the buses through the open window with their hot, tired faces. We arrived at the Pan American Hotel for the first night stay. Guycho positioned himself at the back of the bus with a rug laid in the window to unload luggage to the awaiting mission members. Once the luggage was distributed and room assignments given, we were able to meet to review the next day’s agenda and give thanks for a safe trip. We are now in Zone 1 where the sights and signs are heard throughout the night. This was not a safe place to be out after dark. I come to the end of a busy day with excitement building for what is coming next. Paula
We had a pretty amazing day at CIDETRA today. When we arrived at Colegio Davenport, we were told the welcome ceremony would be after the middle school students arrived in the afternoon. So, we spent the morning at the work site for the partially completed new classrooms. Some of us worked on sifting sand, while others worked on clearing brush for a basketball court. It was fairly warm and humid, so we worked up a good sweat by lunchtime. After lunch, we were bussed a mile and a half up the road from the school and were greeted by the students. From there, we began a parade back down to the school, complete with marching band (drums) and plenty of spectators. We felt like royalty being escorted to the palace. There was actually a police escort at the front (although we did pause a few times for traffic). Ward got pretty crazy during the parade, prancing around like a drum major. The kids thought he was pretty funny. To us, it was just Ward being Ward. When we arrived back at the school, there was a huge crowd--parents, students, local dignitaries, also a local TV crew. They sang the Guatemalana national anthem, then played a recording of the Star Spangled Banner. There were a lot of speeches, including one by Elizabeth and one by me. We presented Oscar (CIDETRA director) with some photos from last year, plus the newspaper clipping (framed) the the Q-C Times. He seemed especially impressed by the publicity from the Davenport paper. Someone later saw him having it translated into Spanish. The speeches were followed by a number of presentations by the students--dances, songs, a poem, a lip sync of a Whitney Houston song (in English, in our honor). Then came the "fiesta" part--some line dancing, then some dance music, which we were invited to join. Ward got a little crazy again, but surprisingly so did Bruce. He was really kicking up his heels! Across the courtyard, there was also an art display, various crafts made by students for the occasion. Pretty impressive. They obviously had done a lot of preparation for our arrival. What really floored me, though, was that the event was "reigned" over by Senorita (Miss) Davenport--a second year student named Keli who was attractively attired and had a "Senorita Davenport" sash draped over her shoulder. Just like one of our beauty queens. Can you imagine, a Miss Davenport being crowned thousands of miles from the Quad Cities! It shows what an impact we've had. Which brings me to my concluding thought for the day. It's overwhelming to realize how many people in these communities are being impacted by our involvement in the school project. It's a blessing but also feels like a huge responsibility. I hope God gives us the wisdom to handle that responsibility. Craig
Some of the educators from the mission team headed straight to the classrooms to begin the day. I know that I was excited and nervous just like I would be with students here in Davenport. I remember how much time and discussion we had in picking the book, preparing a lesson, deciding on the art activity and anything else for its completion. The plans evolved and a direction was set. However, “flexibility” becomes important as unexpected situations occur. Today’s obstacle was that the creative art items (markers, stickers and crayons) were sorted and locked in their store room. No problem-as long as we had the book “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” written in Spanish to read and the basic items needed to make a butterfly. Elizabeth did a great job of reading this and showing the students the pictures in this book. It is quite a challenge to read with meaning a book written in another language. However, the students seemed to beam when they could help any of us with difficult words. They were so attentive that not a sound was heard other than a spontaneous response to the activities in the book. We had visitors in the doorway and looking through the window. There were mothers, adults, and young children who also enjoyed the story. It was a community involved with a simple story. Upon the completion of the story, Elizabeth and I reviewed and shared the four steps of change from the egg to the butterfly. 
I demonstrated the art activity of butterfly-using tissue paper, squeezing in the middle and tying a baggie tie around so that antennas were at the top. We had a chance to review the color names with the group as we passed out the tissue paper. We continued until all of the students had received the help needed for their steps in making the beautiful butterflies.
The students finished up this activity with their own ideas for extensions. Some of the boys showed us that their butterfly could make the sound of airplanes. Some of the girls wanted to put their butterflies in their hair as a bow. We were able to go outside to “fly” with the butterflies. We were able to get the students interested in playing with bubbles. Both butterflies and bubbles are uplifting and free to fly.
We hope that as we continue our mission work we will have similar interchanges. The day was a big success. When looking back on today’s activities,.I see correlation between the growth of mission to butterflies. The mission starts with a birth (egg), grows to an idea (caterpillar) where it was nurtured and taught. Moving from this step to one of development and self-reflection (cocoon ), to the formation of a beautiful butterfly-one filled with a freedom and spirit. Thank you God for releasing butterflies to be full of your spirit.
Paula There are moments, among all the clutter of other moments, that will last a long, long time. I was intrigued by a rutted dirt road that twisted up into the forested hills. Elizabeth and Francie said they would go with me to explore where this road might lead us. After our noon lunch, we started out. It was very warm and both women insisted I put my cap back on. They were not willing, I suppose, to carry a heat-stroke victim back down the hill. I complied (unwillingly). As we stumbled and meandered up the road, we sidestepped cattle grazing in the ditches, chickens and some other very strange birds foraging in the nearby weeds, and several baby pigs wallowing in a mud hole ditch. We had been walking for about 20 minutes when down the road trudged a very old lady wearing a blue dress and a black shawl over her head and shoulders. In Guatemala it is always appropriate to acknowledge a stranger. We slowed our gait and paused and said, “Buenos Dias.” This very little lady gave us a big, toothless smile and Elizabeth extended an additional Spanish greeting. And with that, Elizabeth and the very little lady embraced each other. Francie and I were not to be left out and so each of us also hugged this stranger who was no longer a stranger and declared, “I almost died recently, but thanks be to God, I didn’t.” Strangers from two very different worlds walking a hot dusty road have a chance encounter. And thanks be to God they part no longer strangers but carry back to their homes a memory warmer than the noonday sun. Bruce At the school today I met a young (8 years old?) boy who had what looked like a large sore on the top of his foot. He has no shoes, of course, and the foot looks serious. I realized that there is little help here for common mishaps and injuries. He seemed happy in spite of it and stayed around us most of the day. It made me realize (again) how much we take for granted. I was so bothered by it, that I brought his situation to Walter's attention. Bob 
WEDNESDAY, JULY 21--Jutiapa The young boy was back today. Walter spoke to him and found that the sore is actually a large scalding burn, which is no doubt infected. At first the thought was to try to treat the boy at the site, however, Walter ended up taking him to the clinic. He came back with it bandaged and a note to his mother that he should be taken to a hospital. I am glad I was able to be part of helping him. I can only hope that it turns out all right for him. I will always wonder if his mother took him to the hospital and how things turned out for him. Bob You are Blessed to Be a Blessing. These words stuck in my head and ran over and over like a tape recorder as I returned for the third year to work along side the people in Jutiapa. It has been a privilege to be able to go back to our friends and learn more about their country, culture, and hear their stories of day to day living. After spending more time this year in preparation of learning the Spanish language, I felt I was ready to talk to my friends. When I arrived, I realized that even though I was better, my vocabulary was still about that of a three year old! The people didn't care and even helped me when I stumbled with words. Some people even began to try their hand at English. Today was one of the most impressionable days of the trip. The director of CIDETRA (Oscar) took a group of us to Cerro Gordo, a very poor village. Our goal was to visit their elementary school and talk to the teachers about their needs for the students. Our mode of transportation was Oscar's pick up truck. I was priviliged to sit up front and have a conversation with Oscar and our translator, Joy. I should say that Joy and Oscar spoke, while I listened. Along the way he told us that this particular village was the poorest of the nine villages that CIDETRA served. Many of the homes were temporary structures that the government put up, so that people would not be homeless. The roads were dirt with either deep ruts filled with water from rain or big rocks, which made the ride an adventure for the people in the back. When we arrived at the school, I was shocked! I was told that this particular building was built by the government six months ago as a temporary school. The building was made out of corrugated tin. Not just the roof, but the whole school was made out of this. Inside the small narrow rooms were hot and dark, but the children were still smiling. We were also told that a lot of the students were sick with the measles. Wow! Words could not express what I felt at that moment. In one room there were 75 first graders with one teacher. By the time you reached the sixth grade level there were only four students. Many children drop out of school by the time they reach sixth grade, so that they can help their family at home. In all, we were told that there were around 170 students that attended school at that site, and there were only five teachers. As a teacher myself, I realized just how big their job was. As a group we went into each classroom to introduce ourselves as best we could in broken Spanish. They all greeted us with " Buenos Dias." Upon entering the Kindergarten classroom, the students broke out in song and sang the familiar songs of our childhood. We sang back to them in English and then the class next door wanted us to sing to them. You can hear everything that goes on in the building, because of the flimsy structure, no doors or no windows. We then broke into two groups. One group read The Hungry Little Caterpillar, in Spanish and then made butterflies out of tissue paper. I have to say that this was a big hit, which resulted in a lot of smiles for everyone. I went outside with the teachers, another team member and the interpreter. I had two questions for the teachers. 1. What our your needs? They answered: Notebooks for our students, pencils, and one textbook for each grade level for each subject. They would then photo copy the book for the students. They weren't asking for a book for each student, just ONE to copy. 2. What are your priorities? Notebooks, and some religious books. They would love to have a library and textbooks. They realized that this was a lot to ask for and anything would be nice. I found out during this conversation, that the teachers not only decide what they were going to teach, but had to pay for all the materials. The government does not help them purchase books or school supplies. I had a conversation with them about how important their job was and that as an educator myself, I commended them for their efforts. They were showing me what it was like to be dedicated teachers, without any resources. They wanted the same things that we want for our children. Even though we live miles apart and have very different cultures, when we take everything away, we feel the same things. Our hope for a brighter future is with the children in this world. THE WHOLE WORLD! Now I know why today was such an important experience. I needed to see that education means just as much to the people of Guatemala, as it does to the people in the United States. We are blessed with many resources to help our children grow and learn in the US and I left feeling that we need to find a way to provide that for each and every child. Why? Because we are all Gods Children and they are our future. My hope is that I was a blessing to these people in some small way, because just experiencing their passion and dedication was a blessing to my soul and my spirit. Once again, I left feeling like I was leaving my amigos, but they would not be forgotten. Elizabeth Most of my life I've been a teacher of one kind or another. I thought I'd seen just about every school situation, classroom, program, whatever. However, none of this prepared me for the impact of the school at Cero Gordo, Guatemala. At first sight I whispered a prayerful, "Oh, My God." The building was constructed of poles and sheets of rusty corrugated metal. There were no windows, no playground, and as far as I could see, no electricity. But wait.... Let's look at this from another angle. We arrived SAFELY at Cero Gordo after a bone jarring ride in the back of a pickup truck. As we climbed out of the truck we were WELCOMED with the traditional Guatemalan fire crackers. This school represents HOPE and community pride. Parents, children, and staff greeted us with songs and smiles. We were given a tour and spent some time interacting with the students. With help from the children we read a story and made tissue paper butterflies. Language was no problem. We used pictures, a few words, and signs. Taking photos produced loads of giggles as the children crowded around the broken boards that served as desks. One of the teachers explained that many of the children were absent because of measles. I have no idea where any more children could have fit into those tiny classroom areas. The school didn't need electricity. There was nothing to turn on--no computers, no VCR's no overhead projectors, none of the other usual classroom equipment. The school was lighted from within by the love and pride and hope in the faces of those lovely people. I left a part of my heart in that school. As we left, I prayed that their dreams of a "real" building will be a reality before it is too late for the children. Jackie At the church in Jutiapa I met a man whose story moved me. I cannot remember his name but I will always remember his story of how he came to serve God. This story was particularly moving to me because I also spent many years at sea. My new friend is a merchant seaman working for a cruise line. Several years ago on a regular merchant steamer he was caught in a hurricane. The ship was in serious trouble. He prayed for safety and salvation, promising God that if he was saved he would witness wherever possible. During the storm the ship was blown off course and ended up behind an island. This saved the ship and all aboard from destruction. No one knows how the ship got behind that particular island. My friend knows in his heart that it was his prayers to God that saved all of them. He is now doing just as he promised. He carries his Bible with him on every voyage. He holds Bible studies with other crew members whenever he sails. No problems are encountered with the captains as long as ship's work is not neglected. He showed me that God will preserve us if we are willing to serve Him as well as do honest work. Bill
On my last day on Jutiapa, I treat myself to a solitary walk through the market place. After three glorious full days of work site activity and knowing that the Farewell Activities would be later that day, I need a transition. Thinking ahead to my return to Iowa and my daily walks around my own neighborhood, I knew soon I would be walking quickly and silently each morning as I planned my day's schedule, checking out the walking/running attire of my FIE (Friends in Exercise): "What brand of shoes is she wearing" or "What does his tee shirt say?" and mostly avoiding eye contact because everyone has headphone ear muffs and seems lost in their own little world. I would sandwich this walk in between bed and desk: a daily ritual and form of self discipline. My eyes are on my watch: "How fast am I going?" "Is it time to go home?" A walk through this market place is punctuated with "Buenos Dias." It matters not - tall, short, indigenous, villager, tourist - we all partake in the special rite of greeting one another. Some scurry to set up the market; school children giggle and walk arm in arm to school or walk hand-in-hand with parents; and I am allowed this time to observe, to stop if I want and to walk on, as I choose. Blackberries the sized of apricots, avocados as large as grapefruit and cabbages like basketballs, all displayed on a palette of dusty road under a canopy of rigged canvas. This portrait of produce is created by villagers who tip toe on bare feet mid center to remove a tiny damaged leaf. Colors of the produce are only challenged and enhanced by the array of clothing and punctuated by uniformed guards. There is a quiet which seems strange with the animals - chickens who soon will be in a pot, dogs who rest on the street and seem to sense they would not be welcome near the sizzling fired griddles where stacks of freshly made tortillas are offered for sale, and an occasional pig in a cage looking with interest at the activity. Babies in slings are hypnotized by the bustle and toddlers sit quietly on grandmother's laps. In my town we work to provide opportunities for intergenerational experiences - here, all of life is intergenerational! Everyone has a job to do and the crowd seems to move as if choreographed. And I am allowed to be a part of this! The one consistency is "Buenos dias" or merely "Dias" in response to my greeting (I have gotten bold enough to initiate this after three days among the warmth of the community here). Do they wonder about the tall Gringa who tries to speak their language? Are they interested in my Nike shoes? (Worse yet, do they notice that they may have been made in a Latin American country which paid tiny wages to the native workers?) Do they know in my town, we might smile patronizingly at someone who has an accent? Instead, they respond and continue on their way - hopefully, accepting me as one of theirs if only in passing. I am once again humbled by something as simple as a walk through a village. This allows me to step out of my own life and experience a people who are accepting and warm and non-judgmental. Humbled as a person with little in common in language skills, one who has to search genealogy records to find a family culture and certainly not similar in physical countenance, one who does not take the time to see and listen to others and to the world around me. Yet, in the market place as in marketplaces through out the world and throughout history, there is a sense of community. My hope is to find this marketplace in my life in days to come. Francie It has been a great time visiting Jutiapa this week, but there are some troubling aspects as well. Progress on the school addition has been slow. That's partly because of increasing material costs, but we are also uncertain as to whether community support might be lagging a bit. Today, I had a disucssion which emphasized what is at stake. I asked Jenniffer, a bright, delightful 14 year old who had told me she wants to be a phys ed teacher, what she would do next year if the additional classrooms aren't ready for the 3rd year students. At first, she said she didn't know. I asked if she would go to another school and she said, no, other schools are too far away. So again I asked, what would she do? Finally, she said she would probably stay at home and take care of brothers and sisters. I asked, what about a career, and she said that might still be a possibility. But obviously, she is at a crossroads where her education might soon end, with considerable implications for her future. Whatever I do in the next year relative to this project, Jenniffer will be in my thoughts. Imagine my own 13 year old having to face this type of crossroads a year from now........ Craig   POSTCRIPT--SATURDAY, JULY 24 AND BEYOND "Take care!" ... This was the parting comment I received from most people in advance of my departure for Guatemala on July 17, 2004. That's good advice, but how did we do that? We took care of each other--mind, body, and spirit. MIND: For several weeks before leaving, we met under the leadership of our most seasoned "gringos" (Craig and Elizabeth) to give us information about language, packing, policy, politeness, and protocol so there were no uncertainties. Once we arrived in Guatemala we made sure we met as a group each night (sometimes late, with very tired bones) to debrief the day's events. We listened to each other share experiences, impressions, and concerns. The members of the group were from our church, but also from Clinton, Wisconsin, and New York, so in many ways we started as total strangers and finished as deep friends--this was greatly the result of the sharing/listening we did nightly. BODY: Guatemala is a poor Third World country. The average person in the villages we worked in live in a one-room cinderblock home with tin roof and dirt floor. They are fortunate if they earn a "typically average daily salary" of 40 Quetzales ($5), and they are undernourished. So it is not unusual for people here to expect us to be living under the same conditions...but our accommodations were not harsh. We stayed in adequate hotels with real beds, indoor plumbing, and hot showers. We ate in real restaurants and received (usually) recognizable food--although we frequently asked Walter Arreaza (our Guatemalan host and translator) if certain items were "OK," meaning free of local parasites. We even had the chance to prepare our own sack lunches before heading off to work so we could have our own "comfort-foods." We traveled across the country in an air conditioned touring bus. And we also watched out for each others' safety when we were walking (pickpockets are always on the job in big cities), working (proximity to the Equator makes the sun a real concern), and talking (the uni-lingual participants could always count on the more Spanish-savvy among us). SPIRIT: The agency through whom our arrangements were made is CEDEPCA, which in Spanish stands for the Evangelical Center for Pastoral Studies in Central America. Walter, a staff member from CEDEPCA who traveled with us, has a Bachelor of Theology and Pastoral Ministry. But we brought our own theologian (Ward) who led us in devotions nightly. The scriptural passage was picked specifically daily inspired by issues we encountered that day and led us skillfully into discussions that challenged or reinforced beliefs we brought with us from our own spiritual journeys. We worshipped in local churches twice: (1) on Sunday at Iglesia Evangelica San Juan Apostol in Guatemala City under the leadership of Dr. Hector Castaneda (a passionate Guatemalan who fled the country for his safety during the Civil War), with whom we spoke afterward over lunch about his spiritual dedication to his flock; and (2) on Wednesday night in Jutiapa at the home church of Oscar Perez (the Director of CIDETRA--the organization with whom we are helping to build a Middle School)--Ward preached to all gathered about "sing to the Lord a new song", which Guatemalans do with great enthusiasm. And we were diligent in our shared responsibility to pray for each other. We took turns saying Grace before every meal... whether we were in an elegant restaurant in the ancient city of Antigua or sitting in the dirt of our worksite in the village of Los Tunas near Jutiapa eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We tried to be faithful to Him as God was ever-faithful to us. Thanks to all "back home" who prayed that our trip should be successful--it was! And thanks to all who suggested that we should "Take care"--we did! Dan Since I can remember, I have always written my thoughts on paper as a catharsis. After my first day in Jutiapa, I did not even know where to begin to "think out" my thoughts, let alone write them on paper. AWESOMELY OVERWHELMING. After a couple of weeks being home from the experience and memory of a lifetime, here are some "untangled" thoughts I can share with all who ask. "How was your trip to Guatemala?" "Was it a good experience?" My immediate response is "Awesome." I cannot use the word "wonderful" or "good" or "great" or "terrific". The best and most effective adjective for me is AWESOME. If the person who has asked really wants to know my experience, I tell them this: "I have always been a very proud American. I come back being, still very proud, but a very grateful and humble proud American. GRATEFUL, because of all the things we have here in America. Little things we take for granted like, purified water for drinking and bathing, highly functioning sewer systems (speaking as a woman), pets, schools, teachers, supplies, transportation, family, friends, meals, fellowship and love. We have rules of the road here in America and law enforcement on our driving roads and highways…not in Guatemala….oh my God! Cars have the right-of-way. HUMBLE, because what a selfish, self-centered, material and lonely society America has become. In all that is poor with many people in Guatemala, they are so rich, more rich, than we are or have been in a long time. They have so little, they are primitive in so many ways, they get all of the OLD cars, like Datsuns and old school buses (mass transportation), they sell pineapples for a living and they are happy. At the work site, there is a little boy with a badly burned foot. He sits and watches us as work is being done. I'm watching him through sunglasses and notice that he is waving flies away from his foot and his face. He looks up and notices me looking his direction….and he smiles. My eyes tear up. How precious, how innocent, how awesome life is. I've seen the commercials of children starving, the flies all around them and it is so easy to tuck that into the back of my brain, until I see it first hand. It is a reality that will never disappear from my mind. Another scene that plays over and over in my mind is the drifter with the guitar over his shoulder. He walked up into the school yard before classes were to begin. He sat down and started playing and the kids gathered around and started singing with him. This was a scene from the 60's and 70's in America, but it is so long gone from our society. The children, tot to teen, would walk up to any of us to give a hug. Our children can't do this, our society would question it. Our children don't know how. Most parents don't have time to talk and play a game with their kids, let alone hug and kiss them. Our children do some crazy things for attention, just to be heard and loved. These kids in Jutiapa liked sharing their love with us. OVERWHELMING. Where does my mission begin? This question drove me nuts all week. I am the chairperson of the Mission Committee at First Presbyterian Church, Port Jervis, New York. I shared this concern with everyone at the end of the week. There was discussion about doing international and local mission work. It was said that we can do both. That little piece of the puzzle fell into place the very next day as I was running to catch a connecting flight in Miami, on my way home. They have the conveyor belt walkways. I love them. There were many of us trying to get to this next flight. As I was walking at my own quality, Olympic speed, I approached an elderly woman trying to keep up with her daughter and grandson (2 years old). She was having difficulty getting on and off these conveyor belts and just by nature, I asked if I could help her. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "Yes, thank you." When we got to the next walkway, and I still had her arm, we just looked at each other and smiled. My smile was huge, because I was thinking to myself, "This is what mission is all about, helping each other, loving each other." Michelle The 2003 Guatemala mission trip returned to the Jutiapa regions, where the 2002 team traveled to work on a school and medical clinic building. The trip also included the opportunity to visit the middle school in the town of Las Tunas, named Colegio Davenport in honor of First Church's participation in the region. Following are entries that the team members were willing to share from their journals. The team hopes that this will give you an understanding of the depth of emotion and the level of commitment to the people of Guatemala that each member experienced as a result of this trip. Select Date
Pre-Trip Preparation - Saturday, August 9 -
Sunday, August 10 - Monday, August 11
Guatemala. The first time I heard about the Guatemala mission trip was two years ago. Something stirred inside of me. Over and over during Minutes for Mission, people talked about their experiences and I longed to go.
Not having money or time off from my jobs, I could not afford to go. So I waited and saved my money. In the meantime, I questioned myself, why do I want to go? I felt I didn't have anything to offer to someone else in a different country.
As my money grew, I thought it would be nice to have a new computer or pay some bills but God would tell me I was going to Guatemala. Why, I would ask? No answer. People questioned me about my trip. Why would I spend money on a trip that I would have to do work on? Why doesn't the church pay your way if you're going to do the work for the church? These questions would be asked all the time, and I had the same questions. I would only answer, I don't know why! God is telling me to go. I would tell them I really would like to buy a computer but God just tells me I'm going to Guatemala. People would look at me like I'm crazy.
Over my life God has watched over me. I have had things happen to me that I don't understand at the time, and I didn't understand what God had in store for me. That is how it has been most of my life, one surprise after another. Things that have happened have some deep meaning years later. So for now I live looking for the next piece of God's puzzle.
Bonnie
Saturday, August 9
Although our bus took off for Chicago about ten minutes late, things got better after that. Flights were on time, and we successfully hooked up with Cathleen, our Washington D. C. companion, in the Atlanta airport. There was a lot of good banter among the group members, so it looks like it could be a fun week.
Chino, our CEDEPCA host, met us at the airport and gave a brief tour of Guatemala City on the way to Casa San Jose. We loaded tons of computer and EMT supplies into his car. The computers are for CEDEPCA's use and the EMT supplies for Chino in his "other" job. That sure lightened our load!
Craig
Sunday, August 10
On the bus to the hotel, I watched out the window trying to see everything and questioning God already. Why here, why me? I saw a big city with lots of buses and lots of people. I caught sight of old and big new buildings as we drove through the city. I saw lovers on the street. I saw homeless people young and old.
Also on the bus we met Chino, from CEDEPCA, and Juan Jose, our bus driver (or J. J. as we learn to call him). Very informative about the city and very nice and funny. I liked them already.
The hotel could almost be someone's home, it's not big. It reminded me of Mexico. The hotel ladies looked surprised at our arrival but all was well, and we settled in.
The morning brought me excitement. First things first, what were the ladies cooking for breakfast? I had to see the kitchen. I wanted to find out any inside secrets on good cooking. The ladies were just starting, and they tried to make friends. We shared words like stove and microwave. They shared back with translation of the words, which I didn't remember. I loved eating Guatemalan food. It tastes just like Mexican food, which is my favorite. Eating out of clay dishes was wonderful.
This morning, we met Joy and Jack Houston, who are volunteers that will stay with us all week. After breakfast, we met Rafael Escobar, director of CEDEPCA. We got started with orientation and our welcome to the country as church bells rang. Chino translated for Rafael and is very good at it. Rafael talked about the state of the country, God and hope. As I listened, I realized that life in other countries is different than our own. People's lives are in danger if you disagree with the government. Our country has a role in Guatemalan politices, causing deaths of innocent people in the name of politics. Craig and Joy brought out discussion about events that happened about two weeks ago--BLACK THURSDAY. People die and the newspapers cannot report it! People know, but what can they do? Unless you're willing to die, but who knows what the paper will print?
Next, a video called Precarious Peace. I cried. You need to watch this! We only saw Part 1, but that was a lot to handle.
Next, we went to church at San Juan Apostol and met Hector the minister. As church was over, I saw a man that looked just like my father who had passed away. Spooky.
We ate lunch with Pastor Hector at the church. We talked about politics, government, God and hope. They all mix together in such a strange way. We found out about Hector's life--he's an educated man who went to college in the U. S. He knows of freedom and has great hope for his country and in turn has death threats. When I asked who the Guatemalan people want for Presdient in the upcoming November election, he said he didn't know but thought the guerillas might be as good a choice as the rich politicians. He said people will die either way, and the rich only have thoughts of themselves. I believe Hector is a good man and lives in a dangerous country with no easy answers to its problems. We all want to know what role the U. S. is going to play in the election and who they will support.
Off to Jutiapa, the fun began. First a little bus trouble, then a police check. Then to Hotel Mansion, where the kitchen was closed! Where do you eat when you're in Guatemala? But of course, eat in a Chinese restaurant!
Evening reflections was an emotional time for me. Most of the time I keep such a hectic pace, I don't reflect. Do I speak? Do I listen? Will I say something dumb or wrong? I will speak because God has brought me this far for a reason. I will put my heart out on the line for all to see. I cry and we pray.
Bonnie
Reflections on our drive across Guatemalan countryside:
Flowers cascade from the balcony with no regard to the rules of shade or sun. Ferns in the sun thrive! Broken broomsticks offer support to the vines and some pots of concrete are cracked and then broken as the roots stretch to grow. Plastic reminders of holidays past adorn the ivy. One wonders who made the rules that labels and pruning are necessary?
Rocks scream with political slogans and pictures, made so simple by the fact that the precious people of this land have been deprived of reading lessons. I wonder how they can make an educated vote.
Francie
Today was our first official day in Jutiapa and the village of Las Tunas. Jutiapa was the name of the small town where our group was staying for the week. We had the privilege of staying in a very nice hotel called La Mansion de Villa. Here we were blessed with a restaurant staff who took care of all our American needs! After breakfast we loaded the bus and headed for the offices and school of CIDETRA. CIDETRA was also in the village of Las Tunas, where we would begin the work of constructing a middle school. I was particularly excited because this was my second time in Jutiapa and I was hoping to see some familiar faces from last year. We were welcomed by Oscar, director of CIDETRA, and many people from the surrounding villages. I was pleased to see some faces of people that I worked with in the village of Valle Lindo. I knew they recognized me from their beautiful smiles and the warm welcome. When our translator asked if they remembered me, they acknowledged that yes, they not only remembered me, but also asked about other members of last year's group. This was truly one of the highlights of the trip.
After people gathered Oscar welcomed everyone on the mission team. He introduced important people of the villages and then we introduced ourselves as best we could in our practiced Spanish. Craig and Jim presented CIDETRA with a picture of our church, a picture of the 2002 mission team and logo for the new school. It was definitely a moment of two cultures coming together to create a lasting relationship. When the celebration ended our group was ready to go to the work site. Upon arriving, we could see that the land had been cleared of trees and the foundation had been measured. Our job in the next few days would be to dig the foundation and learn how to bend rebar. After a short time, Jim and I were asked if we would like to go to the villages that we had worked in last year. We jumped at the chance to see the finished schools that our mission team had helped construct. Jim, Steve, Gerry, our translator Chino and I jumped in the back of a pickup truck, along with several men from Valle Lindo and Arrayanas. I was thrilled and honored to be able to go back to the schools and see the children. On the way to the villages, we stopped to look at a bridge that had just been completed. The bridge was necessary for the people of the villages to be able to get to school and to town during the rainy seasons. Tuesday there was to be a big celebration and we were invited to come back. After several picutres we climbed back into the truck and soon arrived in Valle Lindo. Not only was the school finished, but there were about 50 primary students in on classroom and around 20 studying in another classroom. I was overwhelmed with emotion when I peeked in and saw the children. We were welcomed by the students and their teacher.
After a couple pictures we got back into the truck and headed to the village of Arrayanas. There we were welcomed by some children shouting, "Gringos aqui!" which means "The white people are here!" It was so much fun to see their excitement over our return. Again we took picutres of the finished school and then had the time to get something cool to drink at the general store. The temperature was in the 80's, so it was refreshing to sit down and have a cold drink. We then departed from the villages and made it back to Las Tunas in time for lunch. I will never forget the feeling I had when I returned to those work sites of 2002. It was not only an emtional experience, but a fulfilling one to see what had been accomplished by two groups of people of different cultures who lived miles apart. God was truly in our presence.
Elizabeth
I lay in my bed trying to go back to sleep. The alarm won't ring for another hour, but my welcoming speech to Oscar and the villagers keeps going through my brain. My Spanish isn't very good, and I want to do as well as I can. The birds, the speech, the birds, the speech, … finally dawn is breaking, and I get up, shut off the alarm I didn't need, and quietly head to the shower, as my room mates are still sleeping. I'm certain that my nervous energy will keep me going all day.
Breakfast was to be served at 7:30, so around 7:15 I went to make my sack lunch. Breakfast was actually served around 8:00, as the kitchen staff had a little trouble preparing food for our group of seventeen. Flexibility - a word often used by Joy, Craig and myself during the week, came to mind. The week is much more enjoyable when you just go with the flow of their culture. Scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions, black beans, tortillas, and fried plantains (small bananas) were worth waiting for.
It's a short bus ride to CIDETRA's headquarters in the village of Las Tunas (the cactus - yes there's cactus in Guatemala!). We arrive at 9:00, are greeted by Oscar, director of CIDETRA, and leaders from the villages. We assembled on the porch area of the refurbished building that is the temporary location of the intermediate school. Some of our funds from last Christmas were used to re-roof and remodel this building.
After a welcome from Oscar, it was Craig and my turn, with me going first. I think I did OK, the tape in Steve's video camera will tell the real story. I presented Oscar with framed pictures of our church and last year's mission team that also worked in this area. I also gave him a framed power point slide that Diane Pumphrey created. This will serve as the logo for the school. It was really neat to see Oscar's reaction to the framed pictures and logo. I could see that they meant a lot to him. In fact, they were behind a glass door in a cabinet in his office before our ceremony was complete.
Craig then spoke on behalf of our mission team, letting Oscar and the village leaders know how grateful we are to them for hosting us, and allowing us to be part of them for a few days. The remainder of our group then took turns introducing themselves, in Spanish of course. Bonnie topped us all when she played a tape of her mother speaking in fluent Spanish!
Following the ceremony, I asked Oscar if some of us could go visit Valle Lindo and Arrayanas to see the completed classrooms from last year's mission trip. He agreed, and Liz, Steve, Gerry, several village leaders and I hopped in the back of Oscar's pickup and headed for the villages. Steve and Gerry quickly developed an appreciation for the distance and terrain that the students have to cover every day when they attend school. They must walk, bike, or pay to ride in a mini-chicken bus as their villages are several miles from the school.
After lunch, it was off to the work site to see how adept I was at swinging a pick. I was amazed how quickly I heated up when working. We quickly understood why the villagers worked at a slower, steady pace. One of the girls from the school jumped in the trench and started shoveling. She caught a lot of grief from the men and boys, as she should have been in a kitchen making tortillas - in their opinion. The director of the school also joined in the shoveling for a short while. It was all part of the communities wanting to show their gratitude for our helping promote education for their youth.
In mid afternoon, Craig, Joy and I met with Oscar for 1 ½ hours discussing this project's plans, budgets, etc. Oscar promised to have copies of all documents for us the next afternoon for us to bring back to our church. It is so nice to be working with an agency that understands our need for accountability of funds that we send them. This is not the case throughout other parts of Guatemala.
We returned to the work site feeling good about what we had accomplished. By now, many of the junior high students were at the work site, and many were surrounding Bonnie and Chino (our CEDEPCA host and translator). Bonnie's stories, as translated by Chino, had the kids laughing. I think the two of them could be a comedy act in Guatemala.
As we called it a day at the work site, I looked at all that we accomplished:
A successful welcoming and introductions
Project accountability - visiting last year's work projects + documentation of this project
Started relationship building
The trenches and rebar were taking shape
Supper was black bean and chicken burritos, a favorite of last year's group.
During devotions we wrestled with these two questions. What is the most important thing you did today? What is your new reality? (To find the answers, ask a mission team member.)
We ended the night by practicing our Spanish hymn Cantad Al Señor (Sing to the Lord) which we will sing tomorrow night at a Pentecostal church service. We also practiced the children's song Profundo y Ancho (Deep and Wide). Little did I know how badly Deep and Wide would later bomb in Guatemala, and the group reminded me of that throughout the week.
Tomorrow I'll get up with the birds and be ready to go to the market with Joy before breakfast. I always enjoy the walk through the local markets. It's another way to better understand the local culture. Is this heaven? No, it's Guatemala!!
Jim
Tuesday, August 12
At the bridge there is quite a crowd of folks for the inauguration. All
those from the villages are on one side and we gringos are on the other.
Reminds me of a junior high dance where the boys and girls are on
separate sides waiting for something to happen. The Catholic Bishop
shows up to bless the bridge. This guy locks his car up out here in the
middle of no-where. A trusting man he is! He conducts the ceremony and
things begin. We try to entertain the village children with a song
conducted by Jim. It is a flop, the kids just stand and watch us with
expressions that look like thoughts of "what are these people doing?" A
few of them join in turning around with us, the rest just look puzzled.
We end this attempt at communication and listen to what the local leader
has to say.
Boy does he drop a bombshell. All they need is $2000.00 for materials
and they could start work on the next bridge. Two thousand for a ride
back would probably have been met with more enthusiasm. Chino proved
himself worthy once again. He smoothed over our astonishment and let the
leader know we would be taking this issue up with folks back home. This
guy is worth every penny they pay him to help us out. Chino is quite an
ambassador for his country and so young!
The trip home is uneventful and warm, no, hot! Lunch at the school then
its off to the trenches for some more digging! It is toasty hot in the
afternoon in the trench. Karl and I are trying to dig out for the
support columns. These are the big deep holes along the way. I swear
I’ve lost more weight than I’ve found in the last six months today. A
couple more days like this and my sister Beth could take me home in her carry on
bag!
We finish a long day and head back for a nice shower and dinner. The
food is good, though I think anything would be good after a day long
extravaganza like today.
After dinner we make a trip to a Pentecostal church. It is quite a site
and more surround sound than you can imagine. I’ve never heard so much
racket created by so few people! It would help if I could understand
what they were saying too! This is a long service with lots of songs and
prayers. Steve is called upon to do a sermon, he comes through with
flying colors as Chino translates for him. He gets more Hallelujahs than
he calls for, guess that’s a good thing. The night closes at the church
and we head back to the hotel, looking forward to meeting the bed
tonight. Juan Jose makes the drive look easy though it is quite a
squeeze getting the bus through some of the curves, getting us out of
what seems like the middle of nowhere.
Beth and I shoot the breeze a little and crash, it has been more than a
day! I am quite frustrated by my inability to communicate with the folks
here. They have big smiles and are quite willing to try to speak with
us. I am embarrassed with my language skills so I am still pretty quiet.
The birds here sound like the ones back home, I’ll bet they all speak
the same language, why don’t we humans do that? This is a good group of
folks Beth hangs out with.
John
This continues to be one of the most moving as well as emotional trips I've had. I don't speak Spanish, and most of the people here do not speak English. Communication is, therefore, difficult yet not impossible. The medium of exchange has been both the adults' and the children's friendly smiles. As I walk the road to our work site, I say, "buenos dias," to a fellow traveler, and I am greeted in return with a broad smile and "buenos dias." I think we all very much want to communicate and to share our life experiences. But until that is fully realized, our mutual smiles transcend our language barrier.
Bruce
An incident today illustrates a small connection we are making with the middle school students. We had presented the class with some maps, including one of Iowa. During their English class, I heard one of the kids working on his pronunciation:
"Davenport......Washington......Ottumwa....."
Craig
A visit to Carlos' garden, where bougainvillea, corn and mangoes grow in the area where a pig grazes happily. Carlos has bare feet as he leads us under brush and through vines, over rocks and nails. I think of the many miles he has traveled -- He is 77 and his smile is so big! He says he want to be free and does not mind being poor. I reflect that he is not poor in what counts: he is rich in family, rich in spirit and rich in health! He shares that he waited a long time to find a wife -- he married at age 70, I recall, He may have been kidding when he said that he wanted to find a woman who did not tell him what to do. He was surprised that we women carried rocks and bent rebar. I was proud to do that and honored to be allowed to work while he watched.
Steve asked uis to reflect on what we had RECEIVED (although we had all said we came her to GIVE). I thought of the handshakes I give so freely and the "How are you's" that are more than perfunctory and mostly insincere. My hope is that I can return with the gift I received today of a meaningful handshake and someone who really did wonder "Como esta usted?" I know the meaning of reciprocity!
Francie
Wednesday August 13, 2003
The sun is bright today, and warming up the trenches very quickly. We notice the slow methodical pace of the young men from the village, and quickly adopt their pace. The morning is sprinkled with water breaks, photo sharing, and English/Spanish lessons. The young men are very interested in learning English words, so we tried to teach each other simple words and phrases. I had put small post-it notes on some of my pictures to help me with my Spanish. A big lesson learned - don't hold your photos upside down and don't leave your glasses in your backpack if you expect to have the post-it notes help you describe the photos. Thank goodness for Wilson (Weel-sone), a 10 year boy who accompanied his dad to the work site each day. I had shared my pictures with him and his father yesterday, and he remembered each photo and helped me explain them to others. What a bright young lad. I felt sorry for him, as he was with us and not in school.
Some of our group worked with the little kids in the pre-school/day care this morning. Bonnie's paper frogs were a great hit with the kids. She has brought so much to share with the children this week - a real God-send on this trip.
It's lunch time, and a few of us decide to stay at the work site and eat, while others return to CIDETRA's headquarters to get their sack lunch. John, Elizabeth's brother, has a bag of dried apricots, and decides to see if Carlos' pig would like some. (Carlos lives next to the lot where the school is being built. He donated part of the land, and sold the remainder for a small price so CIDETRA could afford to buy it and build the school.) The pig is tied to a tree in Carlos' back yard, and we can see it rooting through the dirt looking for food. The pig loves the dried fruit! Shortly after John begins feeding the pig, Carlos appears with a plate of cheese and corn bread for John. He motions to John that what he doesn't want, he can feed to the pig! Carlos then brought a plate of cheese and bread for the rest of us at the work site to share. It must have been about 1 ½ - 2 hours, and many stories, later that Carlos returned to his home. What a character!
At 3:00 we quit working so we could return to the school and say good-bye to the 7th graders. We had a short ceremony, with Oscar thanking us for all our support so that the school could become a reality. Craig again acted as our group's spokesperson, as he is the only one fluent enough to speak in Spanish on-the-fly. It's a tearful goodbye, especially for those who have worked closely with these youth during the week. As we gather outside the school building, Astrid, a favorite of the group, came to us with gifts. She had colored pictures for each of us, and had written on the picture in English. What an expression of thanks from a 13 year old girl. We pray that she will be able to use her God given talents for the betterment of her country.
When we return to the hotel, some of us head downtown to pickup the pictures we had developed. We intend to leave them with Oscar tomorrow when we bid CIDETRA farewell, until our next visit. Craig and Steve also head downtown, Steve is still in search of size 46 shoes. I don't have the room key, so I'm biding my time on a bench outside our room waiting for them to return.
Kay is a little nervous, as Tino has been telling her to be prepared to dance with him on Thursday when the marimbas are playing. The rumba works well with marimba music, so I help Kay learn a few basic rumba steps, just in case.
After dinner, Oscar meets us at the hotel to direct us to his church, where we will be attending their evening worship service. We also meet his beautiful wife and daughter. We are given a chance to sing our songs - Amazing Grace and Cantad Al Señor again. We sing them with more spirit than last night, but we still can't compare to church members' spirit. It was inspirational to see the passion in the hearts of the people, and their open display of their love for their God. One thing I must say though, I don't understand a Spanish sermon spoken very loudly any better than a Spanish sermon spoken softly. I think our safety director at work would have preferred we all wore ear plugs.
We took time for devotions when we returned to the hotel. The topic for tonight - sharing, how is it different from giving and receiving.
It's time to review my notes for tomorrow's farewell. Good-byes are never easy.
Jim
Bruce
At the bridge dedication, at the Pentecostal service, in the classroom, I am overwhelmed by the politeness of the children, of their attentiveness (of the lack of gameboys? or is it a respect for what is being said?). Above the altar in the church was inscribed, "Give God the Honor Due His Name." I know the children could not read this, and yet this was what they did! It was said that the community members have an appreciation of our concern for their development; I have more appreciation for their allowing me to be with them!
Francie
The goodbye ceremony took place at the school this morning. It was a festive atmosphere, with music, beach balls, bubbles, pinatas, etc., followed by a lot of speeches. Oscar thanked us for our efforts and presented each of us with a sombrero and a bag. We felt very much appreicated. Several of us spoke, saying how much we had enjoyed the week and how proud we were to have our city associated with the school.
After the ceremony, we took one last walk down the road to the work site. Seeing the trenches doesn't have quite the impact of seeing walls go up, but we did move a lot of dirt this week.
A highlight of the bus trip from Jutiapa to Antigua: Our driver Juan Jose stopped at a place along the road so we could take pictures of all the political slogans painted on the rocks. Juan Jose (or J. J., as we fondly call him) has been great all week. What a nice fella--a minister who is studying for a divinity degree (they sometimes do it in that order in Guatemala). He also owns a bus and contracts with CEDEPCA to drive for groups like ours. He says he sees this as part of his ministry. He speaks English pretty well, so he and I have been switching between English & Spanish. I've really enjoyed talking with him this week.
After checking into the hotel in Antigua, we went to the shopping area for a little while, then went to dinner at a nice restaurant. We finished the day with devotions and reflections. Since there is no meeting room at this hotel, we just sat down in the alley in front of the hotel. Just like early Christians did it, no doubt.
--8:00--The bus took us to Jack & Joy's house for breakfast. Their house was breathtaking--not huge, but with a beautiful little courtyard and a second floor terrace with flowers and a view of the nearby volcano. Wow! Their decision to leave Chicago to move to Guatemala doesn't seem quite so strange anymore.
--9:00--We took a tour of Common Hope, a facility which provides medical, dental and educational services to poor families in the area. I thought it was pretty impressive. Steve later told me that Chino, our Guatemalan host, has some reservations about the Minnesota-based organization. He has concerns about the paternalistic approach that North Americans sometimes take toward mission. I'll have to think about that one. Agree or not, it reminds me (again) how complicated this mission stuff can be.
--11:00--We toured the Traje Museum, which displays vaious kinds of indigenous clothing from Guatemala. It also sells a lot of woven goods, so the shoppers in our group (especially Bruce) jumped at that opportunity.
--1:00--Lunch at a local place, with delicious Guatemalan cuisine--chile rellenos, tortillas, rice, refried beans, guacamole, plantains--everything I like. Wish we had a Guatemalan restaurant in the Quad-Cities.
--3:00--I negotiated the purchase of two pairs of earrings for Teresa, my daughter, in the central square. The first pair started at 25 quetzales, and I wound up paying 15. The second pair went from 40 down to 20. Joy says if you wind up at 60% of the original quote, you're probably OK, so I guess I did fine. Hope the earrings don't fall apart the first time Teresa wears them.
--4:00--Jack & Joy took us on a walking tour of Antigua--to the ruins of a Catholic Church originally built in the 1500's (and destroyed multiple times by earthquakes); to a facility for handicapped children (not a bad place by Guatemalan standards, but not exactly Handicapped Development Center in Dav.); and to a 5-star hotel built within an area of ruins (the grounds were beautiful--make mental note in case we ever come here on vacation).
--7:00--Our last dinner together in Guatemala--by popular demand, at the same restaurant as the night before.
--8:30--We all ran back to the hotel in the pouring rain. This essentially canceled evening reflections, as we didn't care to meet in the hotel alley as we had the night before. We have to get up early tomorrow to go to the airport, anyway. There will plenty of time for reflection on the way home.
Craig
Saturday, August 16, 2003
I was continuously struck during the week by how we Americans tend to define rich and how the Guatemalans we met define the word. They were rich in their faith and devotion to God. They spoke of God more frequently and openly than I do. They seemed to be rich in humor, effort, perseverance, gentleness, calm, acceptance, respect for one another, and certainly gratitude ( they couldn't have expressed appreciation for our presence more than they did). Being with them has given me much to use to examine my own life and how I interract with people.
As I had predicted, I gained more from being with them than they with me this week. Terrific week.
Kay
I didn't write any journal entries during my trip. I've never been any good with keeping any type of journal or diary. Each night I returned back to the hotel room, I thought about writing in my journal, but I couldn't get a hold of my thoughts enough to have any idea of what to write. I had no idea what I was thinking. I was too overwhelmed with still absorbing the information. The only comparison I can think of is, you know how it takes a while after you've eaten for your stomach to tell your brain that it is full. There is delayed comprehension. That is how each day's experience hit me. The experience was continuing to send messages to my brain each night and my brain was having trouble fully comprehending them all.
Each night, as a group, we would have Reflection time. I had a hard time sharing during these times because I was still trying to absorb and comprehend my experiences during the day. It wasn't until the long plane ride home (and the wait in the Atlanta airport) that my brain had the quiet time it needed to start to get a hold of all my thoughts to truly begin the comprehension process regarding my experiences in Guatemala.
Although now I understand that I needed more quiet time to absorb my experiences, at the time I felt horrible that I wasn't "thinking or feeling" anything. Each night when I couldn't think of anything to write in my journal, or share during Reflection, I felt bad. I felt guilty. I wondered, was I not very Christian? Has my relationship with God so deteriorated that I was empty?
My relationship with God has fallen by the wayside over the years since I have left college. I've noticed it. I've missed it. I've tried different churches. I've read all kinds of books about Christianity, reflection, service, etc. But, I've missed God. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until Jack asked me in the airport about what church I go to in DC. I responded that I've had difficulty finding a church in DC that I like. He asked me how long I've lived in DC when I responded, "seven years." I realized for the first time how hollow my excuse sounded.
Reading books about Christianity and reflecting on God is all well and good, but the truth is a relationship with God is about just that, "relating." God is alive in each and everyone of His people. Therefore, in order to relate to God, one must relate with His people. And, like all relationships, in order to make it work one has to spend time working on it: interacting with one and another.
Thinking back before I went on the trip, I am trying to remember what I thought the purpose of the trip was. Did I think the people of Guatemala didn't know how to build a school, so we had to help? Did I think they didn't have the time to build the school, so we needed to help? Did I think they didn't have the money for the materials so we bought them and we were going to go down there to "protect" our investment? I'm not sure what I thought. All I know is, looking back, at the time I didn't fully understand our purpose. At Reflection one night, Joy said our value in coming to Guatemala was just coming to visit. She compared our coming to Guatemala with that of a friend's visit. She said, "when a friend comes to visit with you, you feel appreciated." I thought about my best friends, Mary Donna and Lorraine, visiting me in DC from Texas. I thought about how people always ask us what we do during our visits and how we laughingly respond, "nothing." It is never about what we do when we are together, it is always about just being together. Spending time together, relating to one another. That is what the trip to Guatemala was about: spending time with one another, relating to one another. It wasn't about what we did together, it was about just being together.
At different points in time during the trip different people mentioned how it was important not to pity the Guatemalans. It was important not to feel sorry for them, because that would be condescending. It was also mentioned that it was hard not to feel sorry for them; after all, we were witnessing such poverty. It never dawned on me to feel sorry for the people I saw. Again, I wondered, "Am I not Christian enough?" Am I so harsh and unfeeling, that unlike everyone else, I didn't pity these people or feel sorry for them? I'm not sure. Like I said before, my relationship with God has fallen apart; maybe I'm not Christian enough. Or, maybe, I saw something different when I looked at the Guatemalans.
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