I’ve started reading the blog of Andrew Sullivan, a columnist for The Atlantic. What’s great about it is he updates as many as 20 times a day with fascinating items, links to interesting stories, and bits of commentary that can’t be pinned down to one specific ideology.
One of the items today was on the continuing violence that is erupting at the health care forums around the country and how it has a lot to do not with the debate over health care, but with the larger issue of the ever-shrinking Republican Party and how a lot of its farther right followers are reacting to Obama being president. The “Birther” movement has a lot to do with this, and if it continues to be an issue that Republicans in the House of Representatives and CNN anchors and extreme right-wing commentators continue to pursue, things will only get worse for the Republicans, no matter how health care reform turns out.
Hello again! Day 46 of the trip. We’ve been in Guatemala City for the last week hanging out with Jeanette and Juan Carlos and enjoying the much cooler temperatures. Some good news: the sunburn on my back has finally gone away! There was some major peeling going on, but thanks to Elise it’s pretty much cleared out. She was grossed out by it all, but I love the sensation of dead skin peeling off the back. Sorry if you’re eating right now.
On Wednesday we visited Pastor Alevino and helped out with a lunch-feeding program he does every day. He lives in a very dangerous part of the city, so we were extra aware of our surroundings. Elise reported seeing a random man with a shotgun enter a house very near to the church we were at. To do what, who knows.
The lunch program, though, was thoroughly enjoyable. Elise and I played a few worship songs in Spanish, and on the second day we led the silly game we did a lot in Chiquimulilla. It was a hit again. I especially love when the moms in the back are entertained at us funny looking Gringos shaking around in compromising positions.
After the game and a short lesson from Jeanette, we helped serve the food to the kids. It would be the only meal they would receive that day. Each child and parent had a Tupperware container and cup with them which we filled with rice, beans, tortillas, and a local corn drink. It was pretty humbling to serve these kids the only thing they would be eating that whole day.
There was a tense moment during the serving, though. A woman, upset at a kid who was strangling her child despite repeatedly being told to stop, hit the kid with a plastic foot stool/chair and broke it over his head. Elise and I were concentrating on the food serving at the moment, and because our Spanish isn’t good enough we didn’t get the gist of the situation until Jeanette told us later. Apparently the kid who was doing the strangling ignored the mom and kept choking the boy, which is why the mom lashed out.
The strangler was probably regularly abused at home, which is why he was so cavalier about abusing other children. Unfortunately, abuse of all kinds–child, spousal, sexual–is pretty rampant and unchecked in Guatemala. It is also woefully underreported and even if it is reported, there is no accountability. There is no Social Services or anything like that to intervene in the event of child abuse, so it just perpetuates. The social worker part of Elise, then, upon seeing this incident, felt helpless because she couldn’t do the things she would do in the United States, like call the police and make a report.
It wasn’t all bad though. We did some painting while we were there and had a bunch of kids hand-paint the wall. They were really excited to do this. There was even a newborn baby that did it, though it was a challenge to get her to stretch her hand out enough to make a clear hand print. It was aborable nonetheless.
This will probably be my final post from Guatemala. I’m leaving on Monday at 12:30pm from Guatemala City for a connection in Ft. Lauderdale, then arrival at O’Hare at 10:30pm. Then it’s a bus home to end a very long day. It’s been a great time here, my second trip to Guatemala. I can’t say my Spanish is any better, but I’ve enjoyed being immersed as much as possible. I’m also proud that, for the most part, Elise and I didn’t play the stereotypical Gringo tourists, though we do look the part with our pasty white skin and red hair. No fanny packs, though, or cameras dangling from our necks. If you ever plan on traveling abroad, especially to more imporverished areas, please don’t be the Ugly American. It does no one any good.
While Elise won’t be updating from this blog, she’s still on Facebook and Skype and all that. I know she’d love to hear from you. She will be here indefinitely, which is a daunting thought for her. My parents will be visiting in October, so she’ll have to keep herself busy until then. But for my part, I thank you for staying with us this summer. I hope we were entertaining and interesting enough.
Hello hello! Sorry for the space between posts. We’ve been in Chiquimulilla for the last two weeks with no Internet connection, but now we’re back in Guatemala City with Jeanette and JuanCarlos and have lots to share!
Denis and Alvira, our friends in Chiquimulilla, essentially became our Guatemalan aunt and uncle. They travel around to local schools and do programs with the kids with a Bible lesson, songs, dramas, etc. Elise and I tagged along with them for the last two weeks. My first responsibility was leading the kids in a silly game in Spanish. That was always a hit. Then Alvira would teach “The Bible Song” in Spanish and then Elise would teach it in English. Elise has said many times how her fear of both speaking in front of groups and singing in public were challenged these last few weeks.
After that, in the drama I played the part of the Devil, inhabiting three forms: Fear, Doubt, and Sickness. I would come out from around a corner and lurk about the kids before going up to Alvira and saying in Spanish “You’re very afraid!” and “You’re going to die!” And each time I would come out, I would hold a balloon that Alvira would pop with her Bible that was specially rigged with a needle, representing the destruction of fear, doubt, and sickness.
Most of the time, the kids would think my act was rather amusing. But at one school, I came around the corner and half the kids started screaming and ran to their teachers while a few stood up and were about to attack me. Needless to say, it was entertaining all around. We would do the whole program at 2-3 schools per day, and in the hot hot muggy heat of Chiquimulilla, it became a trek. But it was fun hanging out with kids, especially when they would just surround Elise and I as we sat down and just stare at us. Once again Elise’s mild claustrophobia was put to the test.
Last weekend, the four of us and the family of Eric, mom’s driver while she’s down here, took a trip to Lake Atitlan in the mountains. It was a nice break from the heat and we got some good pictures of the view. There were crowds of gringos there walking the streets–something you don’t see in Chiquimulilla.
And this last week we went to Denis and Alvira’s church four times. Going to church in Guatemala is quite the adventure. First off, you’re guaranteed to be the only white people there. Once the music starts, you’ll notice that an average song can last 15-20 minutes. After that, the pastor does some announcements and welcomes the new visitors. In America, at most churches, you can get away with blending in with the crowd as a newcomer. Not here. They blantantly pointed us out every time we went. Elise and I have concluded that our patience for being stared at non-stop is wearing thin.
After we finished touring the schools we helped clean and paint a large room that is attached to Denis and Alvira’s home. Then on Friday we went to the Pacific Ocean to enjoy the black sand beaches and forceful waves. I was an idiot and got sunburned, mostly on my back, so right now I’m suffering through the feeling of having little pinpricks all over my back. It really sucks. But the beach was still fun and we got some cool pictures.
And now we’re in the city. The next couple days we’ll be helping Jeanette with her photography work, working with a pastor on a lunch-service program, and other things. More on that later. Until then, Dios les bendiga!
So yesterday Elise and I got the chance to visit As Green As It Gets, an independent Guatemala cooperative that works with local farmers to produce all kinds of products, coffee being it’s primary bread and butter. We talked with Franklin, the founder (who is originally from Wisconsin), and he gave us a tour of the place. This guy was so full of facts, statistics, and lots of interesting anecdotes about everything from coffee production to the chemical make-up of hazelnut oil.
We got to talking about the world of non-profits and he explain how the industry is hopelessly corrupt, especially in Guatemala but also in the States. We found it interesting that, according to Franklin, fraud among Christian mission organizations is perhaps the most profound. He also had little good to say about Fair Trade coffee, other than that their very good marketing campaign disguising what is otherwise a very profit driven company that doesn’t actually help the local coffee farmers in the least.
It wasn’t a totally depressing afternoon though. We took some spades and went a’weeding in the coffee fields for a good hour and a half and Franklin told us a lot about the world of social entrepreneurship and how it can work well and how it can often not. Elise was especially interested in these issues from the social worker’s perspective. A few times Franklin jokingly asked if he had turned us into cynics yet.
On a happy note, I tasted my first official coffee there. Franklin said the brew that we tasted wasn’t the best of the best, but even the worst coffee in Guatemala beats anything offered in the States. Having tasted fresh Guatemalan coffee straight from the source, I don’t know if I can lower myself to go to Starbucks.
Anyway, you really should check out As Green As It Gets. It’s the real deal. They rely solely on word of mouth to get business, and 100% of their profits goes straight back to the farmers, the people who actually need it. They sell a lot more than just coffee too. Necklaces, shampoo, soap, purses, castor oil, and much more. So order a pound or a hundred for you and your friends.
So we’ve been in Antigua now for about two weeks. Today we walked over to Santo Domingo, a super super nice hotel and villa. We just walked right in and explored the ridiculously beautiful scenery. There were hanging gardens and fountains at every corner and tropical birds nesting. We wondered what the ratio of gringo guests versus native Guatemalan guests was. Probably pretty high in the gringos’ favor.
This week we’ve been at a language school, learning the intricacies of the imperfect subjunctive and conditional clauses and the like. We have class from 8am-12 every morning. There are lots of people at the school. It’s really cool because each person gets their own teacher. The one-on-one attention really helps in comprehension. We’re only here a week, but it definitely has helped.
As anyone who has tried to learn a new language knows, verbal gaffes are pretty much to be expected. A few days ago, I was telling my teacher what I would be doing that afternoon. First I said, “I will be meeting a man…” and paused to think about how to say the next part. But she looked at me funny and chuckled until I figured out what I said. I was going to say “my sister and I will be meeting a man who is a friend of my mother.” But saying things in a different language always takes time to figure out, so I ended up sounding like a very strange man.
Elise had her moment too, though it had nothing to do with Spanish. We were trying to find an ATM, and she wondered what ATM stood for. “Automatic Time Machine?” she asked.
No, Elise, we’re not looking for a time machine.
I guess all the exhaust fumes are messing with our heads. Luckily we will be going to Chiquimulilla starting Monday for two weeks, helping our friends Denis and Alvira with their kids ministry. They don’t speak any English, so Elise and I will have ample time to try out our very mangled Spanish.
This weekend, though, Elise will give a presentation on PTSD to some locals with the help of a doctor here. She has been working really hard to make the presentation and advice applicable to these mostly poor people. We’ll see how it goes.
I don’t think there will be in Internet access in Chiquimulillia, so I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to update for the next two weeks. But until next time, hasta luego!
Next time: surviving the Chiquimulillan heat, and working with kids again!
Hey all, we’ve been in Antigua for the week helping Hector and wandering the town. We connected with Gerber, mom’s friend down here whom I will hopefully be accompanying to the jungle in northern Guatemala sometime during this trip.
Yesterday we visited a school where Gerber’s sister is the principal. Elise and I sat in on a math class for a few minutes. We were both brought back to the good ol’ days of learning how to add fractions. Well, for Elise it was more like reliving a nightmare…in Spanish. It was cool, though, because we met a team from California there who was painting and building stuff for the school.
That meeting turned out to be a great thing because we were able to tag along with them today to the Pacaya Volcano. The first part of the climb was a pretty leisurely incline, but once we hit the lava part, it became more interesting. It’s an active volcano, but the ground we were walking on was all old, crumbly lava. Elise and I enjoyed the fact that we were pretty much the only ones in the group who were not huffing and puffing and opting for horses that were provided for weary hikers. We trekked the whole way up and down. Take that, Californians!
The view was spectacular. We weren’t allowed to go to the very top of the volcano, but we stopped at the next highest portion where the rocks were hot from the active insides of the volcano. The mountains in the background are also volcanoes–some active and some not.
People were roasting marshmallows over some pits that exuded some very hot air. They roasted crisp in a few seconds. It was very windy up there, but I wholly enjoyed the stunning view once the clouds cleared. And since today is Independence Day, Elise and I sang our own a capella version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” when we reached the peak. Here’s to you, America.
We were thoroughly nuked but refreshed from the hike, so afterward we did some laundry and visited a cool little bookstore/cafe called the Cafe Rainbow. Tomorrow hopefully we’ll be going to church with Irma, another one of mom’s Guatemalan friends. After that, who knows what will happen…
Since the last post was getting kind of long, I didn’t get a chance to add some other things we’ve discovered while living in Guatemala.
First, the concept of time. Very different from that in the States. Americans are very gogogo–on the clock and always moving. But life in a developing country does not obey the clock as we do. Jeanette and Juan Carlos don’t even have a clock in their house. So when someone says we’re going to meet at noon, odds are it will happen…later. I’m OK with this, but Elise is very time and detail-oriented, so she has trouble sometimes.
Still, I’ve lost track of the days. I didn’t even realize we are almost in July. Time goes by a lot slower. So while we’ve only been here for less than two weeks, it feels a lot longer.
The other thing we’ve noticed is the driving. There are road signs and speed limits, but no one really obeys them. Turn signals are optional, if not discouraged. Come to think of it, that sounds just like the entire state of Illinois. Still, even when it seems like total anarchy on the road, it ends up looking like an intricate ballet choreography, where every car swerves and accelerates in perfect if not treacherous unison with the others.
Along with regular cars, there are lots of small, golf cart-like taxis called Tuk Tuks, especially in Antigua. Lots of motorcycles and Mopeds too. This makes for interesting driving along Antigua’s bumpy cobblestone roads. A lot of those are used for food delivery from pizza joints and even McDonald’s. Taco Bell, though, does not deliver, which is something I’ve hoped for in the States for a long time.
Hello, readers, thanks for stopping by. We’ve had quite the eventful weekend. But first, some belated pictures from last week’s excursion to Chiquimullia with Denis and Alvira. Elise and I helped them with their presentation while mom and Jeanette talked to the village midwives.
In more recent news, we went to the three-day ExploMusicFest at Juan Carlos and Jeanette’s megachurch, Fraternidad Cristiana de Guatemala. Some big names in Latin American music were there–Rojo the worship rockers, Alternativa the ska band, and Funky the rapper. The great thing was that Jeanette recruited me to be a part of the official photography team, so I got an all-access pass to take pictures with a really nice camera all weekend.
As people were waiting for the concert to start, I would walk around taking crowd shots, and soon people would be clamoring to be in a picture.
With lots of people screaming for me to take their picture–plus the fact that I was pretty much the tallest, whitest, most redheaded person at the festival–I kind of stood out. I didn’t care, though, because during the show, I got to go wherever I wanted to get some cool shots. Here are a few of them.
During last night’s show, though, one security guard who didn’t already know who I was tried to tell me I couldn’t go into one area I had frequented the night before. I tried reasoning with him by pointing to my nametag that said “Total Access” but he just shook his head and pointed me away. I kept at him, though I realized later that, because of the blaring music and the language barrier, I might as well have been speaking Klingon. I was ticked off that this random guy was trying to keep me away from doing my job, so I found the head photographer and she talked to him. Yeah, take that dude.
Today Denis and Alvira accompanied us and Jeanette and Juan Carlos to the Iximche Mayan ruins in Tecpan. We were only there for about 20 minutes because of rain, but it was still really cool to see real pieces of antiquity.
After that, we visited a rehabilitation center for alcoholics and drug addicts. Elise and I were expecting an actual house, but instead we discovered that it was four walls with no roof and lots of junk lying around. Still, the center’s director told us of his plans for the new facility, which will be a great thing to have.
Mom is leaving tomorrow after 6 weeks in Guate. She’s pretty sad about it and will be going through withdrawal for a while. Once she gets back she’ll email me lots of good photos that I didn’t take on our camera, so look out for those. Once mom leaves, Elise and I will head back to Antigua for two weeks, helping Hector in the villages and taking a week’s worth of Spanish lessons.
Until then, hasta luego!
Next time: livin’ it up in Antigua, and more work with cute kids
Hey readers, sorry for the lack of updating. I have caught some form of sickness and was too weary. I’m still sick with some diarrhea and aching, but hopefully it will pass.
We have had a pretty cool last few days. We’ve been working with a middle school/high school group from Charleston, South Carolina, in visiting some villages, building homes, and hanging out with the kids. Since the kids tag along with us wherever we go, we share our lunches with them. The group has also performed some dramas and Hector does the teaching.
A word about Hector: he received a calling from God to serve the needy kids in the very poor villages around Guatemala, so he works tirelessly every day leading mission trips and making sure everything that needs to get done gets done. It’s a very hard life–added to that a strange skin infection that makes him allergic to the sun. He needs all the prayers he can get because his job is a demanding one but an important one.
That said, it’s been raining every day here pretty hard as it is the rainy season. The many mountains that we drive around every day are quite green.
I’m still really tired from being sick and riding in bumpy vans all day, so I’m sorry if this post lacks the depth or wit I’ve used before. Hopefully I will get better soon. Until then, ¡hasta luego!
Next time: (hopefully) full recovery, and attending a large music festival in Guate.
Hola, readers! We’ve had a pretty cool last few days.
Yesterday we had lunch with Juan Carlos’ family after church. His brother, Alejandro, is the lead singer of the Guatemalan Christian band Vertical. Apparently they’re the Guatemalan equivalent of the Newsboys or something like that. We ate Domino’s pizza and ice cream. Ah, fatty foods.
After lunch we went down to Chiquimullia and stayed with our friends Denis and Alvira overnight. They run a camp-like ministry for the kids in that area, so today we visited a village and did a program for them. The theme that Denis and Alvira are doing now is obedience, so Elise and I helped them in different skits and games and songs that involved that theme. We got pictures but I can’t put them up now. Don’t worry, though, they’re full of hilarity.
While we did the presentation, mom and Jeanette talked to the village midwives. You could hardly call them midwives officially, though, because the only reason they had that title was because they had had children before and would theoretically know something about the birthing process. It was dismaying, then, for mom to find out how much they didn’t know. Apparently lots of moms feed their newborn babies coffee, olive oil, honey, and soda among other things. It’s why malnutrition is so widespread down here.
Regardless, the midwives were really curious and asked a lot of questions. Meanwhile, Elise and I along with Denis and Alvira handed out clothes, shoes, and toys to the kids. It was humbling to see barefooted kids receive what may have been their first pair of shoes. One little boy–no more than 2–was waiting silently as the other kids scrambled for toys. He just looked up blankfaced at Elise, but when she gave him a little beanie baby, he smiled and started to show off his toy to others, including mom.
We’ll be seeing lots more situations like that because Elise and I are staying with Denis and Alvira for two weeks sometime this summer. Which will be interesting because they speak zero English. Talk about immersion. They have a really cool house, though, which you’ll see once we can upload pictures again.
Until then, ¡hasta luego!
Next time: meeting the famous Hector, and doing some good old fashioned labor.
Today we visited a local indoor market in the city. It was full of trinkets and clothes and fresh food and lots of people. Since it was indoors all the vendors are packed in like sardines, so claustrophobes may have a tough time. Still, it’s an adventure in itself to walk around and bargain down prices. When you pass a vendor most likely they will say something like “Very good price for you, special discount.” You have to get used to saying “No gracias” and keep walking.
I didn’t buy anything today, but mom did. Things are much cheaper here than in Antigua, which is full of tourists. If you have any special requests for items you want from Guatemala, let me know and I’ll see what we can do.
After the going to the market, we went to the downtown mall. Talk about yin and yang. It felt strange going from a dank basement filled with handmade products made by families just trying to get by to a shiny, fast food-filled box with lots of affectionate teenagers groping each other and drinking lattes from & Cafe. Jeanette told us that only about the wealthiest 2 percent of Guatemala shop at the malls like the one we went to. The income disparity in America is startling, but it’s nothing like that in Guate.
We headed home and prepared the donated clothes and toys that we’re going to give the kids in the villages this week. A lot of the clothes and shoes are in really bad shape, but the kids who will be receiving them have next to nothing, so to them they will be brand new. Some have never even owned a pair of shoes. It will be quite the experience to minister to these kids.
Jeanette prepared yet another fabulous dinner. Tonight was sushi with shrimp. I’ve never had sushi before, so it seems strange that I’ll be having my first one in Central America. We’ve been doing a lot of touristy things anyway, so I guess it doesn’t matter.
Jeanette has been quite the entertainment for us here. She likes to make random noises and faces. It’s best when she’s tired because she becomes really slap-happy. My favorite line of hers so far was when she was talking about her beloved coffee maker. “If you break this,” she tells me, “you’re going to pay…with pain.”
Anyway, tomorrow we’re heading to Chiquimulilla to meet with our future host family and Hector, the guy who does the kids ministry in the villages. Then we’ll be off to Antigua for the week, before coming back here on Friday to help with a huge concert event at Jeanette and Juan Carlos’ church. I’m not sure we’ll have an Internet connection in Chiqui, but hopefully we will in Antigua, so look for some updates in the next few days. Thanks to those of you keeping up with our adventure!
Next time: how time slows down in Guatemala, and the Chiqui heat.
NICKNAMES, NOT UNDERSTANDING, AND REALLY NOT UNDERSTANDING
Yesterday was day 2 in Guatemala City. We’ve mostly just stayed in our host family’s home preparing for last night’s event. Juan Carlos and Jeanette hosted an all-night praise and prayer session with about 10 of their neighbors and friends.
Jeanette prepared a humble feast of authentic Guatemalan tostadas made with fresh guacamole, salsa, onions and parsley. Elise and I helped make rellenitos, an indigenous dessert made of plantains, black beans, sugar, and cinnamon.
After dinner, we played a quick icebreaker game that helped to loosen things up, but once the Spanish songs started, we struggled to keep up. It was the first time I think Elise and I felt completely out of place. Jeanette translated for us as best she could, but there’s only so much she can do. Those who have traveled to Latino countries know how fast the people talk, which makes comprehension a beast. It’s like being riddled by a machine gun.
Still, it was an interesting night. I led one song in Spanish. Luckily everyone knew it, so I didn’t have to fear screwing it up. After an extended prayer time, the night was capped off with roasted marshmallows in their fireplace and a showing of August Rush.
In other news, I’ve got a new name. Jeanette said that when we start to visit villages and meet with kids, it might be hard for them to say my name because the “a” in Chad is pronounced “ah” in Spanish. So Jeanette has christened me Chacho—a common name here that is short for Eduardo.
When last night’s visitors learned this, one of them quickly rechristened me “Chacho Libre” like the film Nacho Libre. And the name stuck. So from now on, Chacho and Chacho Libre have been added to the list of nicknames I already have. I suppose I should try to find a cape and mask like Jack Black. Also, Elise has become “Elisa.” But my name is way cooler.
Speaking of cooler, it’s the rainy season here in Guate, so we’ve been holding steady in the 70s with spots of rain every day. Guatemala City rests at 5,500 feet above sea level, so it’s naturally cooler here in the mountains that closer to the coasts. When we visit Chiquimalia, which is a few hours south, temperature can break past 100 degrees. So we’re enjoying not sweating right now.
Today we’re venturing into the city market. It’s always fun bartering with the vendors. We’ll be sure to get some pictures of that.
Next time: how to survive a chaotic market, and buying random things just because you can.
Estamos en Guatemala! But it took a long time to get here. We had to wake up at 3:30am for a 6am flight. Luckily we had a friend in Chicago who was willing to drive us to O’Hare at that time. Our whole reason for the early flight time was to avoid the lines and save money; we saved lots of money but met lots of lines. Apparently our strategy was not unique. We saw at least three different high school groups in brightly colored t-shirts, probably on mission trips. Oh, the good old days when adult chaperones took care of all the busy work that travel requires.
After a connection in Fort Lauderdale, we finally made it to Guatemala City, where mom and our local friend Jeanette were there to pick us up. It’s a surreal thing arriving at the Guatemala City airport. Outside the doors hoardes of locals wait for their loved ones. We had to walk through the crowd as the only gringos in sight. Driving through the city, the cultural immersion takes effect immediately. The city rests in a beautiful verdant valley, so as we wind around curvy mountainside roads we pass beautiful homes in gated communities and then makeshift huts of corrugated tin and found trash. This is Guatemala.
But we won’t be able to start serving until next week. Right now we’re just settling in and enjoying some downtime. The house we’re staying in right now is very nice. Definitely not like what rural houses look like.
Some important things that one discovers while living in Guatemala:
You can’t drink the water. Only severe diarrhea and upset stomach await those foreigners who drink the water or eat any of the food that is not processed, cooked, or boiled. This means no brushing teeth from the tap, no buying vegetables or watered fruit from the market, and extreme caution when taking a shower. Which leads to lesson #2…
Depending on where you’re staying, you may have to take a bucket shower. Music festival goers may know what I’m talking about. I took one just this morning since our house is currently lacking hot water. All you do is boil some water on the stove, put it in a bucket, bring it in the shower, scoop the water with a cup, and go to town. I’ve learned that all you really need to clean is your head and your arms and you feel clean. But getting the other essentials, especially by pouring hot water on them, is an adventure in itself.
You can’t put the toilet paper down the toilet. The plumbing in Guate is not very good, so no paper products are allowed. There are waste baskets next to every toilet, so after you wipe you toss it in the basket. Talk about culture shock.
Most people are really friendly here, which means that when you enter a room, you give a cheek-kiss as a greeting, even to perfect strangers. This happened today when we visiting a local water birth clinic. Some clients came in as we were talking to the nurse and just jumped right in with kisses. It’s as automatic as a handshake. Again, something that will need some getting used to.
After I hit up the ATM for some cashola (the currency down here is the quetzal–which is also the national bird–and the current exchange rate is 8 quetzales to one dollar. In other words, very favorable), Elise, Mom, Jeanette, her husband JuanCarlos, I went to see Up in the theater here — in Spanish. I was curious to see how the movie would hold up in another language and was relieved to find out that the storytelling survives beyond the language barrier. Cheers to Pixar for that.
We had some pan dulce (sweet bread) at dinner tonight, which so far has been the highlight of my stay (alumni from my last Guatemala trip know what I’m talking about). Tomorrow night from 6pm to 6am our host family is hosting an all-night worship session for a local group. Jeanette is bringing a guitar on which I can play my newly learned Spanish songs. More on that later.
Next time: playing Spanish songs and pulling an all-nighter?
Our bus to O’Hare leaves tomorrow from the Memorial Union at 11:30am, so tonight was Pack Night. I’ve got my trusty small blue backpack for a carry-on as well as my Eagle Creek Hovercraft 22, which is really a suitcase but is small enough to be a carry-on — super sweet. All my family members have one. I’d highly recommend it to anyone looking for a spacious suitcase that can be used for anything from weekend getaways to drug cartels–I mean…flower carriers.
Today I’ve been to and from places more often than not: a few trips to Target for gifts for our homestay families, clothes, accessories, etc.; to Best Buy for one accessory Target did not have (I know, how is that possible?); to the library to get some last minute CDs to add to my iPod (Josh Ritter is a must-have for any music lover); and later tonight to Walmart for some returns and ponchos. Sorry for the carbon emissions, Al Gore.
A few of my parents’ friends came over tonight to help with packing. They were in Guatemala with my mom last January, so they were a great help with packing tips and weighing the checked baggage and tips for life in the Guat. We’ve got bags full of travel-size toothpaste we’re going to donate to the kids there, but they were all in boxes which was hindering our packing abilities. So they all gathered around to unpack the hundreds of bottles of toothpaste from their boxes.
It was a tedious job, but I was struck at the sight of a bunch of people doing this boring task simply because they wanted to serve in some way. They wouldn’t be seeing the kids that will receive the toothpaste, but they helped anyway. I hope the whole trip will be full of blessings like this.
But after a few loads of laundry and some arduous strain, we finally got the bags zipped up and ready to go. We’ve got one checked bag (which my family has dubbed “Bagasaurus”) full of donations: medication, hats, toothpaste, a soccer ball and pump, medical equipment, a camera, and anything else my sister and I will part with at the end of our journey. It’s about 47 lbs. — three shy of the limit. Thinking of the shoulder pain that I will experience on my trip down to Guatemala, I’m reminded of lyrics from the Beatles’ “Carry That Weight”:
Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight / Carry that weight for a long time.
Thanks for reminding me, Paul.
On the next episode of ROCKIN’ THE GUAT 2009: 4am wake-up calls and dealing with Customs.
I’m going to Guatemala this summer with my sister Elise and my mom. My mom has been down there already for weeks now, having led a group of nursing students from Edgewood College on a mission trip to Guatemalan clinics and hospitals. Elise went down to the Guat in January with another one of mom’s groups and decided she wanted to go back to volunteer and become fluent in Spanish.
I decided to go because, having been to Guatemala five years ago on a high school mission trip, I knew there was lots of stuff to do in terms of volunteer and missions work. I didn’t know I was going until a few weeks ago. I was planning on working at Lake Waubesa Bible Camp again having worked there for three summers in a row and loving every second of it, but I thought it would be good to change things up a bit.
So today we’re T-minus three days away from arrival in Guatemala. My dad bought me some killer hiking shoes from The Shoe Box and some lightweight, easy-to-dry shirts and pants from REI. We’ll be packing light since my mom, who has been down in Guatemala for weeks now, has stashed lots of mini detergeant bottles so we can wash our clothes once in a while. Of course, “packing light” means something completely different to my sister, who will no doubt have trouble fitting all of her “essentials” into two carry-ons.
I picked up some medications for malaria and diarrhea and got a typhoid booster shot with a Tweety Bird bandage. When I first saw it I thought, What am I, six? Then I realized Tweety Bird is awesome.
My primary role this summer will probably be with kids ministry. Hector, one of my mom’s Guatemalan contacts, goes around to rural villages and performs for the kids and does meal ministry for hungry kids and stuff like that. I’m hoping to be able to go with him and serve the very needy kids there as much as I can, so I’ve got to get some songs and games ready just in case.
I’ve been trying to memorize some Spanish worship songs to play. I remember two from my last trip to the Guat: “Casa de Dios” (which is the Spanish equivalent to “Better is One Day”) and “Te Alabare.” I’ve also learned “Abre Mis Ojos” ( same as “Open the Eyes of My Heart”) and “Vengo a Adorarte” (same as “Here I am to Worship”).
A game I learned in Guatemala five years ago is called “Malaki Tengue” and it’s great because, since the title is just gibberish, it can be played with kids in any language. So: get the kids in a circle and start walking around and say: “Malaki tengue tengue tengue, malaki tengue tengue tengue, malaki tengue tengue, malaki TEN!” And on TEN, stop and point at a kid. They make some sort of funny face or motion and then the whole group mimics that motion or face as they say the words and start walking.
The best is when you get a shy kid. When you point at them they try to hide their face in their shoulder, so you just take the same position and continue. You can play that game forever.
Anyway, it should be good times whatever happens. I’ll most likely be gone until mid-August until I have to come back for RA training at North Central. I have something resembling an itinerary for the trip, but really I have no idea what I will be doing, which is exactly what want — to be able to do whatever is needed and whatever what I want. In the least selfish way, of course.
Next time: packing fun and how to entertain children in foreign languages.
Yeah, it’s good. Great, even. It’ll be another hit for Pixar, and deservedly so.
I thought making a movie about a rat in a kitchen would be a tough sell, but alas, they made Ratatouille.
Then came a largely dialogue-less movie about a robot stuck on a trash-riddled Earth in the future. Wall-E was the best movie of last year.
And now Up, a story about a lonely old man who travels to South America in his balloon-rigged house with a precocious boy. It’s at times funny, hilarious, exciting, and heart breaking in the most uplifting way.
Last week, GQ magazine reported that the top secret intelligence briefings that were sent to President Bush by the Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld during the run-up to the Iraq War in 2003 were often adorned with inspirational Bible verses and images meant to influence the president, who is a self-described Christian and often liked the conflict in Iraq to a modern day “crusade.”
A few examples of these briefings:
March 17, 2003. A picture of two American soldiers topped with the verse Isaiah 6:8, which says, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Here I am, Lord, send me!”
April 7, 2003. A picture of Saddam Hussein topped with the verse 1 Peter 2:15, which says, “It is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men.”
April 8, 2003. A picture of American tanks driving underneath two large crossed swords topped with the verse Isaiah 26:2, which says, “Open the gates that the righteous nation may enter, The nation that keeps faith.”
Bush was completely open about the impact of his Christian faith on the decisions in his presidency, and Rumsfeld was a grossly incompetent defense secretary, so I can’t say I was surprised when I heard about this.
Yet I don’t know which part of me is more outraged: the Christian or the American.
Rumsfeld might not have personally put the verses on the briefings. Odds are, according to GQ, it was Maj. Gen. Glen Shaffer, a director for intelligence who served both Rumsfeld and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. But that point is moot; the nation’s highest military officer wielded strong religious rhetoric in order to push a country into war. I don’t know what could be more irresponsible.
“Defense department staff were privately worried,” GQ reports, “that if the briefings with biblical quotes on them had ever been made public, the fallout would have been ‘as bad as [the revelations of prisoner abuse at] Abu Ghraib.’” Time will tell if the public takes as much umbrage at these revelations as it did with the Abu Ghraib scandal. My guess is that it won’t, because the majority of religious Americans identify themselves as Christians.
Yet why does this anger me so? Perhaps because Rumsfeld, a nonreligious man, cynically used Christian scripture to manipulate a man who had seemingly already made up his mind to invade Iraq and “stay the course.” Hey Rummy, ever heard about those silly little medieval crusades the European Christian church undertook against the Muslims? Yeah, they don’t look so hot in the history books.
The release of these documents came at an inopportune time for Dick Cheney, the former vice president, who was out on a media blitz trying to defend his legacy. But it’s not like the current opinion of the Bush administration could get any more tarnished than it is. That’s why I don’t think this will be as big a scandal as the others. The public—myself and the current president included—has tried to move on from Bush and Rumsfeld and the Holy War.
These documents are but another stack in the “That Figures” box.
Published in the North Central Chronicle on April 24, 2009.
Let’s pretend I’m a teenage girl and that you’re my best friend. I’ve just told you about this guy I started dating. He’s perfect in every way, I say. He stares at me while I sleep, he alienates me from my friends and, among other things, he drives a wedge between me and my single dad.
Wait…what?
Oh, you mean that those aren’t actually good things? Edward Cullen, the lead vampire from Twilight, does all of those things to Bella, the main character in the film, and yet women swoon over him. Why?
Let’s start with the superficial. The novel describes Edward as “impossibly beautiful,” his body as hard and cold as marble. He’s impossibly smart too: he plays and composes classical music and has two degrees from Harvard. And, like any good bad boy, he drives really, really nice cars really, really fast.
Bella goes on and on about how mysterious and seducing and perfect he is. But once they actually get together, she wholeheartedly submits herself to his every whim. The fact that Edward can read people’s minds (though not Bella’s for some reason-presumably because she doesn’t really have that much going on up there) shows that he is all about control. This becomes evident as the two grow closer;they become inseparable (though not in the cute way), and when a rival vampire clan jeopardizes Bella’s life, Edward tells her to abandon her sweet, thoughtful and lonely dad to skip town. Bella was indeed in danger, but Edward didn’t have to force her to blow off her dad.
What makes me cringe more than the film’s lessons is the viewer response to them. We talk so much about how pornography and advertising and television are giving young girls unrealistic expectations about body image and relationships, but what about crazes for a novel that promotes the suppression of self-confidence and identity and creates a steamy hero out of a cold and brooding vampire?
My sisters are obsessed with the series; one so much so that she read one of the books in church, hiding it in the hymnal she was supposed to be using. And she’s not alone. Fan groups and forums have sprung up all over the place with readers confessing their undying love and unhealthy addiction for Edward and the vampire saga. On one such site called “Twilight Moms,” a poster admitted: “I have no desires to be part of the real world right now. Nothing I was doing before holds any interest to me.”
Granted, it’s not just vampire romance novels that can pull people in so seductively. But the fact that some women may expect, if only secretly, that their boyfriend or husband will start acting like Edward is alarming and wholly unfair. It’s like when a man expects his girlfriend or wife to perform like a porn star in bed. Pornography is not real sex, and Edward is not a real man.
I don’t want to completely destroy what many women see as an ideal man. It’s good for men to look out for what is best for their significant other. But I still struggle with the thought of trying to become someone like Edward Cullen, because he’s really not someone any man should want to be, or any woman should want to love.
A blogger at Salon.com summed up well the lesson being told to young men through the movie:
“Don’t be fun, thoughtful, quirky or smart if you want to get the girl. Be a d—. But be a d— who can stop cars with your bare hands. And look depressed. But be good looking while you’re depressed. And express your desire to be with the girl of your dreams but be vague about why you can’t be with her. Confuse her, make her crazy, change your moods by the hour and make sure your hair looks like Johnny Depp in the mid-90s.”
I don’t have two Harvard degrees or chiseled, marble-like features. I don’t drive sports cars or live in a mansion. I don’t have immortal life or superhuman strength. What does that mean for me? If I want to be in a relationship with a girl but I know that when she thinks of the “perfect man” she thinks of Edward Cullen, I lose. Because I am impossibly imperfect.
But who isn’t? That’s why unrealistic expectations, even if they are gleaned from fiction, are so destructive: they don’t allow us to be real, to be human.
But then, Edward Cullen isn’t human. He’s a vampire. So, ladies, dream away, I guess. But when you wake up, don’t tell me what you dreamt about. I have a feeling I will be sorely disappointed.
Originally printed in the North Central Chronicle on April 3, 2009.
A friend of mine grew up with the California itch. Her family was from San Francisco but she was stuck in Wisconsin for most of her life. She always complained about it and talk about wanting to be an actress and live the life in Hollywood, get out of the Midwest and all that.
She eventually went to college in Los Angeles. But after a few years there she became disillusioned with the West Coast life for some reason. I thought nothing but a family reunion every decade would bring her back to the Midwest, but now she says she is coming home after graduation.
What brought her back? Maybe it was the bratwurst and quality beer. Midwesterners know how to eat and drink, that’s for sure. Maybe it was the sports teams. God knows the Packers are way cooler than the San Diego Chargers.
I don’t know exactly, but my point is we have a great thing going here in the Midwest. It’s hard to appreciate this when, if you’re like me, you have lived here your whole life. But we have seasons. Actual seasons. Californians don’t know the meaning of the word. All they get are sun and 70s. Some of you think that’s the perfect kind of weather. But when you get that all day, every day, it gets boring. You start thinking you’re entitled to perfect weather. Maybe that’s why West Coasters get that stereotype of entitlement.
Right now we are starting to enjoy the fruits of spring. There will be green grass and flowers and rebirth and sun. We get thunderstorms, baby rabbits, and puddles in which we can gleefully splash. Then summer will come with its freedom and fun and humidity and even more sun. Summer is a great season, sure, but our version doesn’t distinguish us from the rest of the world. Summer then leads us to autumn, the season that makes you think philosophically about life and death and bobbing for apples while you watch the colors fall from decaying trees.
And then, winter, the most polarizing season. The lovers love the snow, the sledding, the snowballs, and Christmas, while the haters hate the cold, the cold, and the cold. I am a self-proclaimed winter-lover. Yes, even the cold. It toughens us. It doesn’t allow us to take for granted the warmth of the summer. It makes the spring all the more beautiful after months of cold and dreariness.
You can’t go 10 minutes without hearing someone complain about the weather here. Like the weather is the only thing stopping them from enjoying their life. When did that become the case? June and July don’t have a monopoly joy. January has a share of it too. We are just exiting winter, so I suspect the complaints will subside-for now. Another year and the yelping will come back again, just as annoying as ever.
That’s why, amongst those who bemoan the trappings of winter, I exalt its virtues. I say I love it for all the reasons they hate it. It’s too cold, they say. All the better the warmth will feel. It’s too dreary, they say. All the brighter the sun will shine. In spite of all the bad things that are happening around us, I’m just trying to look for the good. We’re supposed to be living in the age of hope, after all.
So come November, as the temperatures drop and your nose hairs begin to freeze, turn that frown upside down and remember that Californians will never know how it feels to walk on ice. Or how it feels to get a snowball in the face. That, my Midwest friends, is something that is reserved for us.
Being a kid today has got to be tough. Being a kid with an insatiable creative appetite and a slight case of obsessive compulsive disorder has got to be even tougher. That’s what Phoebe (played by 11-year-old Elle Fanning, Dakota’s younger sister) has to go through in Phoebe in Wonderland, the newest film from director Daniel Barnz.
The film establishes early Phoebe’s unassailable creativity. She’s the Tortured Artist-albeit a kid version-who is alienated from her classmates for being “different” and feels confined by her school’s suppressive methods. She is even put into therapy after her OCD goes a little too far, but again becomes restless within its confines. Her home life isn’t any easier; both parents are writers who, trying to get published, struggle to find time to connect with Phoebe and their other daughter, who becomes jealous of the attention Phoebe gets because of her tendency to lash out.
But then, a mysterious new drama teacher (Patricia Clarkson) is hired at her school and stages a production of Alice in Wonderland. Phoebe, her curiosity peaked by the teacher and the chance of living in the magical world of Wonderland for real, tries out and lands the lead over the other girls whose self entitlement contrasts clearly with Phoebe’s unassuming self confidence.
The drama teacher, rather than simply telling the young thespians what to do, lets them do it for themselves, thereby giving them the power they lack in the classroom. Phoebe thrives in this environment, letting her imagination run wild. She daydreams about dancing with characters from Alice in Wonderland, which eventually gets her into some trouble-the consequences of which lay the groundwork for the rest of the film.
This is Fanning’s first true role (she has played the younger version of her sister in a few movies and had a small part in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button) and she shines brightly in it. Her ability to look adorable while also transmitting a healthy dose of angst usually reserved for teenaged emo kids makes this film work. It doesn’t hurt that there is a strong supporting cast of adults around her: Bill Pullman and Felicity Huffman as the conflicted writer-parents create the environment in which Phoebe stews, and Patricia Clarkson offers the tender maternal love that Phoebe needs.
Phoebe in Wonderland could be a close sibling of Danny Boyle’s whimsical child-driven fable Millions. There are lessons to be learned by both the adults and the children, but it is ultimately the children-especially Phoebe-in this film who know how to live a life worth living; one led by imagination rather than inhibition.