Labor Day reflections

Well, I am woefully behind on posting. I think it's been a full year since my last. What immaculate timing! I don't think i'll ever finish my Guatemala posting. No one seems to be reading this blog anyway. So I think I'm writing just for me. Which is fine. Totally fine. I keep telling myself that everything is okay. But truthfully, I don't know what this year will look like. I'm sitting alone in my apt on Labor Day. And have been doing a lot of sitting in my apt alone these days. Chicago has grown so very lonely. But there is nothing I can do to stop the passage of time. Believe me I have tried. You'd think that every year I'd get better at letting go. Eight years in and I'm still a rookie at the end of summer Chicago exodus. I've tried to steal my heart up for these days but it's like trying to make butter less mushy on a hot day. I dry my eyes and move on. Yes, I need to move on.

Friends come and go and my gracious God has always provided the most wonderful friends and family. I need to be grateful and thankful. I am miserable. Can't candy coat my feelings. I've been told I can change how I feel. That I need to actively work on just that. I'll tell you I'm actively working on any number of character flaws--my intense feeling heart well that is one monster I can't seem to kill. Though I don't know that it would be a good thing if I did succeed. I'm tenderhearted. That's how I'm constructed. This world is not an easy place for people like me. Tenderhearts are usually so wounded by the end of childhood that very little survives into adulthood. I'm not entirely sure what has survived in mine. Thankfully, I've long ago stopped counting the scars. God's grace and love has kept this heart alive and hopeful.

Despair is what I guard against. It is that which kills hope and trust in God's goodness. Every summer I face the giant task of killing the despair that rears it's head when yet another relationship comes to that fork in the road. I keep walking straight ahead and God directs you to take the right or the left. And our journey together becomes a journey apart. It's okay. I'll always tell you so. My heart just takes times to catch up with the reality of life--change.

I thought last summer was the worst on record. I was wrong. This one is just as hard. I'm not sure but I think that my extroverted nature has taken a vacation. I struggle to make new friends. I cling to the few that remain a great support in my time of need. I know that replacing the friends I've lost is impossible. I no longer want to make the effort. It's a perfectly sunny day. Great day for hosting a BBQ. But I can't bear the thought of inviting everyone I know, and finding out they all have something else to do. That's what has been so hard. Who loves the extroverted party planner when they no longer function the same way? God loves me. I am not alone. But it sure feels that way a lot. Thoughtful reflection on my life reveals a multitude of blessing. I wish my heart would fall in line.

Bye Xela, Hello Pana!

Since this blog was started I have failed to post very often. But my trip to Guatemala would be incomplete without some mention Lago Atitlan. One of the most beautiful hotels and places I have seen in the world was here in a little town known as Jabolito, a launcha ride from Panajechel. This place refreshes the soul. I stayed at La Casa Del Mundo on recommendation from Linnea. This hotel has the rates of a hostel and if often booked in advance. I lucked out and got a room last minute. The served dinner in the evening was nice treat and a chance to meet other guests. Some honeymooners for sure, a gaggle of lesbians, and a bunch of american college kids were the different guests I met during my two evenings at dinner.

After the sun sets in Guatemala the stars come out and make for a striking display of God's shinning handiwork like diamonds against a velvet black drop. I spent an evening lying by the water stargazing. Saw a couple shooting stars and almost fell asleep with the relaxing lullabye of the waves. I slept soundly in my room after that, careful to keep any excess lights off--outside my room the moths and other bugs were gigantic!

The next day I took a long tour of the lake towns with my new friends Jin and Christian. Met up with Victor and Derek later that day for a late lunch and some shopping. Linnea recommended buying my gifts here in Pana and she was so right--great selection and prices. Though I have to say that everywhere was reasonable even cheap by our standards. I tried to buy something at each town just to help the economy in each place a little. Thanks to the boys for seeing me safely to the dock to catch a launcha back to my hotel and snap my favorite picture of my trip--sunset on the lake. They really should've stayed in my hotel too.

The ride back to Antigua was just as rollercoaster stomach dropping winding speed, as the ride from Xela, but it was more lovely. The reason I bring wintergreen lifesavers on every trip is for times like these when you need to calm that queasy stomach.

The views of this volcano ringed lake were amazing! Since there were only 3 passengers on the shuttle minibus, our driver stopped at a scenic overlook so we could take pictures. Really I think I am standing on someone's roof as I had to climb the guard rail to get this picture. A few hours rest as we could each stretch out and sleep on the seats and I am back to Antigua. Alas, I never get to see Amie in Guatemala but being able to call her by cell phone was such a blessing. It was some how very comforting to know I had friends in this country where I was traveling alone at times. God is good. I get to meet up with Victor and Derek again for a Sunday meal in the square. And yes, we ate from the carts and it was wonderful and we did not get sick--yay for asian stomachs! And so ends my language learning trip to replace my trip to Taiwan to see my grandmother. I wasn't sure then but it proved to be the last opportunity I had to see her on earth as she passed into the arms of Jesus this December. Though I am sad that she is gone, my trip to Guatemala was absolutely perfect there can be no doubt that God's hand was in it too and I was supposed to be there at that time. I'm not sure why it happened this way, but it was important for me to see God at work providing for my every need. My journey goes on, and my grandmother's begins anew. Looking forward to seeing her in eternity where the beauty of these photos will pale in comparison to the Lamb of God.

G4: Celas Maya

Celas Maya is a wonderful school to learn spanish with skillful teachers and a pleasant atmosphere. It is seriously, well organized with lesson plans, homework, and scheduled optional lectures and outings. The 8 t0 1pm day can be a little long but the daily 10:30am pan dolce and and coffee/tea break help to keep the creeping lack of focus at bay. Isabel's daily homemade specialities offered us a chance to taste regional snacks like tamales with greens, empanadas, and chicken pastillas for about 1 Q a piece so that's about 10cents. Talk about a deal! (This also helps stave off hunger pains from smaller than expected host meals.)

Some of the outings included a trip to San Andreas, a mayan town with a large garish yellow church, a chocolateria tasting and demo, and an opportunity to spend an afternoon with some orphans. (I did this though there is some dispute as to whether they were really orphans or wards of the state because their parents cannot or would not take care of them due to their disabilities or mental capability. It was kinda like craft time and snack time at a VBS.)

My teacher for the week was Monica. She was so lovely and patient. I discovered that my spanish speaking ability was fairly good and the grammar and verb conjugation review was very helpful. We talked about everything from cooking foods at thanksgiving to gang activity and what I do at Lawndale. I agreed to send her a packet of stove top stuffing, as stuffing is such an american food. Quite fun trying to describe that in spanish! In the end my last lesson was replaced with a cooking demo: A typical guatemalan meal.

I was hoping to learn to make Monica's special seafood tamales, but her mom said the prep time would exceed our lesson time. So we walked to the Democracio market with Kathy, a fellow student and new friend from Arizona, and her teacher to pick up the needed grocery items. Then they taught us how to make chicken empanadas with fresh salsa and fried platains and a sweet summer fruit soup. I contributed a lesson on how to saute asparagus with garlic and lime and we had limonata(club soda and limes) as our summery beverage. It turned out wonderfully! We also fed an additional 20 ppl or so as we made about 50 some empanadas. All of the teachers were especially impressed with the asparagus as they had never known how to cook it before--though they often saw it at the market. When I return to chicago we will have an fiesta de guatemala so you can taste them too!

G3: Road to Xela

Sunday is the day for half marathons run on cobble stoned streets in the shadow of Antigua's volcanoes. Lucky for me that I happened to leave a little early to find my pick up point as I had to literally cross the finish line to get to my street pickup. Lots of runners warming up and the sponsors booths lined up around the Park Central, reminded me of our Chicago races--but I don't think it would be so fun to run on cobblestones. Met a nice guy strolling around snapping pictures while I sat on my pack waiting for the shuttle. He was the 4th missions group in Guatemala I've met (2 on the plane, 1 on pacaya) seems like all the Americans here are on some sort of missions trip. The shuttle did eventually show up, then we drove around Antigua picking up other passengers for an hour before finally leaving for Guatemala city. We changed to a large Pullman bus for the next 4 hours to Quetenzelanago (other wise known as Xela--pronounced Shay-la). Met a couple of other travelers to language school in Xela, a Canadian couple (Raquel and Barnes) and Johann, a first year med student from Denmark, who I initially thought was their son. We were all headed to different language schools but in the general area so when the bus dropped us off in the middle of this crazy bus terminal/street market we all shared a cab into the city center.





Xela is the second largest city in Guatemala, after the capital Guatemala City. It has a completely different feel than Antigua. The roads are still a mix of cobblestones and pavement with a lot more traffic. The buildings are larger and there is more industry and commerce. At the Park Central Americana, I said goodbye to my fellow travelers wondering if I would ever run into them again. My school was only 3 blocks from the center and fortunately the office was still open. Even better, my host family was just steps outside the front door. I really amblessed in this aspect. My host mom Claudia and her adult daughter Maria Fernanda, share a rather spacious (for Guatemala) 3 bedroom 1 bath condo. My room is very comfortable with 2 beds and only one student this week. The bathroom has a shower and hot water, once you light the pilot light. This will be my home for the next week. They also have a chihuahua named Bon Bon, definitely not as pretty as Weibel. Thankfully, he stays hidden from me most of the time.



It was raining in the evening when I ventured out to see the city and find a resturant for dinner. I ended up having dinner with this interesting Cali girl who over the course of dinner conversation mentioned she had developed scabbies from the apartment she was renting. I told her she should really see someone about that or go to the pharmacy. We had an interesting conversation, to say the least. Then I wandered around the city by myself catching a fireworks display--it was a Saint's day celebration--not sure which one. But I did see the parade into the cathedral. Sought shelter from the rain and had a great cappucino in Cafe Antigua before heading back to my host family. So quiet on the streets after 8pm. Just like Antigua everyone seems to be at home by 8pm and then to bed very early. Start language school tomorrow am excited about meeting my teacher and fellow classmates!

Guatemala Day 2: Volcan Pacaya

Antigua is a lovely colonial city to explore. The cobblestoned streets winding in and around abandonded monasteries, churches, and city buildings were easily the best and worst feature of the city. I tripped at least once a day and that was with Chako's on! Try running a half marathon on it's uneven surface--they held one the day I left for Xela with about 2000 runners. But on this Saturday morning, I wandered around making last minute transportation arrangements and catching a late breakfast at La Fuenta. Mmmmm coffee. The open air courtyard with bubbling stone fountain typical of most hotels in the city made for a relaxing place to sample a typical guatemalan breakfast of fried egg, black beans, white cheese, plantain, and fresh baked bread. I hoped for tortillas but the bread was very tasty. At 2pm Vic, Derrick and I joined a tour group to Volcan Pacaya. Pacaya is one of the country's four active volcanoes and fairly easy to climb. It's a 2500m or so to the summit. Our tour guide, Hector, took a pretty fast pace for the first 100m and navigated the lava rocks like it was nothing more than a stroll down any sidewalk. Felt pretty winded really fast--think that was their plan so you pay extra for the horses following the group up the path. But, the more they offered to have us use a caballo, the more I was determined not too. Though I probably should've eaten lunch before climbing a volcano. A few of the girls in our group did end up riding horses to the base of the lava rock but they were also pretty dehydrated from days of gastro problems and no sleep.

The morning rain made the views around Pacaya very misty. Fog covered just about everything in every direction on our way up. The base of the lava rock meeting the grassy slope of the hillside, combined with the blanket of fog gave a very ethereal feel to the place. When we began scrambling over cooled lava resembling a lunar rock landscape and snapped a few pictures on the purple hued formations, I was really glad I had decided to climb the whole way.

Just as we reached the summit I looked up to see smoke and softball sized boulders erupting from the crater lip. The group ahead of us was there and we had a few tense moments as we witnessed the group begin running en mass down from the mouth of the crater while our tour guides shouted "Peligroso! Peligroso!" and directed us away. One of the girls in our group got hit on the shoulder by a volcanic rock--she was okay but will have a bruise for sure. After all was quiet we ventured closer to the top and were able to get surprisingly close to actual lava flow. See the pictures of me smiling away as people poked the lava with sticks and roasted marshmallows. Really the top smelled like toasted marshmallows mixed with sulfur. In places you could stand on cooled lava rock and look down to see red hot lava flow beneath. I was not too keen on standing in such places for extended periods of time, especially when I started to smell melting plastic and rubber from our shoes and the heat was too much for my exposed ankles. Next time I'll remember not to wear capris.

The descent in the dark was much easier than the climb. And the fog lifted to reveal views of the surrounding hillside farms and guatemala city lights. My new headlamp and rain shell came in really handy that day. (Thanks Dan!) When we got back to Antigua, I found that Amie was just leaving and we would miss seeing her. Que lastima! We ate at La Fonda del Calle Real under some pithy spanish sayings such as "It's easy to kill for a woman, but hard to live with her." Funny. Pollo pepian, traditonal dish that was a cross between a morrocan tangine and indian curry was yummy. And we had the salty salty guacamole with homemade tortillas and lime juice mixed with soda. Vic and Derrick made sure I got home safely--the streets were totally empty at 10pm except for few odd people. One more night at Dorris' place and on to school in Xela tomorrow.

Guatemala Day 1: The Chicken Bus

I promised Amie, my roommate, that under no circumstances would I ever get on a chicken bus. She was emphatic about the danger posed to foreign travelers and how her multiple visits to Guatemala and the guatemalans she traveled with all advised the same. So when I was picked up by my schools representative by car (following 2 plane rides) and unceremoniously dropped off at a stop for the chicken bus, you can imagine my hesistancy to board the local transport. I didn't really have a choice actually. My bags where handed over to a driver shouting "Antigua, Antigua!" I stepped on the bus and it zoomed off. Passing beautiful lush green forests and winding roads through ramshackle towns, the bus stopped and picked up people at the most random places. My india mission teammates will relate to the randomness of the stops--nothing posted but people could get on and off, sometimes in the middle of a field.

Fortunately, I took an open seat by a very gracious woman who later told me how much to pay and that I would need to get off at the very last stop in Antigua. She also shared a bit of her story with me, how she works in Guatemala city and takes the bus sometime 1 hr or more each way and returns to care for her 5 month old baby, Daniel. How he was her second child and that her first died. All I could say was lo siento and look really sympathetic. We talked some more about my travel here and what I hoped to learn--spanish so I can, uh talk to people better. My broken spanish and her willingness to talk with me made the ride so much more enjoyable. Her stop was just a few before mine so I bid her farewell just outside Jocotenago, a suburb of Antigua.

A picture will do the chicken bus more service than my wordy description: retrofitted US school bus with roof rack and seating for 2 to 5 in the typical bus seat-- at one point I was seated by a woman on my right, a pregnant woman on my left who had a child on each leg. I boarded the bus about the time school let out so there were quite a number of children on board, as well as families, mom, dads and babies all crammed in together and flying down the roads with me. The young guys behind me regularly burst out into singalongs with the local pop music--kinda hilarious with the amount of spanish I understand. And then there were the occassional street hawkers and orphans marketing on the bus, not unlike what you would experience on the El in Chicago--only much much younger. Kinda heartbreaking.

But, in the end I made it to Antigua with a great local transport experience. A few more winding steps, 2 stops for directions, and I found Mama Doris's house. I have since then been cautioned at least 3 times to never, ever ride the chicken bus again. Still, it was a wonderful experience and I'm grateful for the very helpful and friendly people God placed in my path. On my way to Xela tomorrow. . . but first a look at Pacaya--an active volcano near Antigua--if that is the rain holds out.

Traveling

So I find myself in this crazy time of transition again. I think that things are relatively stable in respect to work and home (or what I call home, the locale of my apt staying in the same zipcode and work, as staying in the same job/mission for a second year). But, the relationships that I have grown accustomed to are changing and shifting in major ways that I have absolutely no power to effect or stop. The simple fact that this happens recurrently each spring makes my otherwise wonderful life an exercise in the art of saying goodbye or "see ya later." This I hate about springtime in the city.


At the end of July, I will have bid a solemn farewell to five of my dearest friends, who have supported and loved me these last seven years in the city. I am at a lost for what to do to stem this tide of loneliness and grief. Friends can never be replaced. Each one so very different and specially created to be in my life shaping my world for a time. So I find myself awakening to a wanderlust kinda restlessness--hopefully channelling my emotional cloudiness to something more just over the horizon. Something to plan. I detest this feeling of being left behind. I would much rather trailblaze or pioneer in the wilderness of what's next. Well, in reality I think I'm just in my own defensive mode of dealing with change. If I am called to live in a city where my community must change each year, then I will make the most of being free to do whatever I want. And right now I want to travel anywhere away from here.

Traveling has a sort of calming effect of me. Somewhere between the last minute packing frenze and the hesitancy of leaving home for something new, there is a calming reassurance that everything is better while on the road. Any seasoned traveler would probably disagree, and I do in the end too, but the hope that belies this thought is none other than the hope that tomorrow will be better than today. Maybe tomorrow will hold a new friend to replace the holes in my circle of friends. Maybe it will present some shinning opportunity to love. Maybe it will be the day when all is made right. Maybe wonder will return to this dark world as a brilliant contagious blaze. Or maybe it will be just another day to live under the mercy and grace of God, who wills that this should be just the way this day was designed to be.

Still I like the freshness of a new day. I like the adventure of traveling with its new tastes and smells, places and people, promise of new memories and stories to share. I like that traveling helps me to appreciate the stability of home. Wherever home might be for this time in my life, traveling is an ever present cure for certain types of discontent since discontent cannot share space with wonder, at least not in my imagination.