Guatemalan Thanksgiving

What better way to celebrate Thanksgiving than with the friend I met in a cooking class, and while we're at it, let's invite the chef! Nidia's husband's family was coming from Miami to visit Guatemala for Thanksgiving weekend, so in the spirit of impressing all our guests with culinary skills and cultural diversity, we decided to make a traditional Thanksgiving meal with a Guatemalan twist!

We made a turkey with stuffing of jalapeno cornbread, sausages and fresh herbs from the local market. We also made tamales with chipilin (a green leafy vegetable somewhere between parsley and spinach), mashed malanga (a large root vegetable that is similar to potato but has white flesh covered with tiny pink spots and has a sweet, much richer flavor than potatoes; malanga is exclusively found in the Carribean). For dessert, I made an apple and pumpkin pie, and Nidia made flan de zapote. Zapote is a fruit in Guatemala that looks like kiwi on the outside, papaya on the inside and tastes like brown sugar. Since pumpkins are not sold here, I looked in every grocery store I know of for canned pumpkin to make the pies. The last store I visited, Puerta del Sol (an small store specializing in US imports) had a small stack of canned cranberry sauce, and pumpkin. I bought the last 2 cans...for $4 each. But it was worth it!

All in all, the dinner was a huge success, and leftovers didn't last long!

We enjoyed the sunset from the balcony before dinner

Filling for my apple pie! Yummmm

Dia de los Muertos: Giant Kite Festival

November 1 is a sacred day in Central American culture. The Day of the Dead. Its similar to Memorial Day in the United States. Families gather in cemetaries with flowers and candles and, sometimes, tequila and spend the day with their family members that have left this life.

Pine needles are scattered on the ground to adorn the gravesite

Mayan woman in traditional dress sitting by the grave of a loved one

In a little village called Sumpango, Santiago Sacatepequez, about an hour away from Guatemala City a great tradition has been held for many years. Festival de los Barriletes Gigantes- the Festival of the Giant Kites. People from the community spend months building kites with bamboo and tissue paper. They range in size from around 6 ft in diameter to almost 100 ft. They are decorated with a religious or political theme. 

People come from all over the country to see what has become known as one of Guatemala's most impressive events

This kite features a woman sewing at her loom. This is one of the most notable traditions of Mayan women. Each community has its own unique pattern of sewing that is passed on through generations.

An indigenous woman standing by lake Atitlan with her pack on her head.

Translation: "We are born seeing the protection and coexistence of nature is in our hands"

"We have learned to fly like the birds and swim like the fish but we have not learned the simple art of living together like brothers. Damn the violence, for it bleeds Guatemala to death." 

"It is not simply identity, it is our indigenous pride." This refers to the Mayan culture.

The festival brings people from all over the country. Vendors line the streets selling everything from Mayan clothing and jewelry to bumper stickers and Q10($1.25) kites. Grilled corn, ceviche, and delicious fruit can be found on every corner as well as chorizo and other grilled meats.

Hungry? 

Lucas and I bought a kite. Attempting to fly a kite in the middle of a large crowd isn't the best idea...

The kites are put on display until an hour before dusk, at which time they begin the exciting part of the festival: flying them. 

Getting a 6 ft kite airborne is no small task. Hundreds of feet of 9 mm rope is laid across a huge field, on one end the giant kite, on the other 3-4 men. On the count of 3 they all begin running as fast as possible across the field pulling the rope and saying their prayers.

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Mayan women and children dressed in traditional clothing, watching the kites fly

A barrilete gigante flying with other small kites. Hundreds of kites can be seen in the air  all over the cemetary.      

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Some kites become airborne and they fly them high in the air, but most only make it a few moments and then come crashing down to their demise. Tissue paper and bamboo always lose the fight with solid ground and high speeds. But this is also an important, symbolic part of the festival. It represents the fleeting beauty of life, that all things eventually come to an end.

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Poco a Poco

Time in Guate: 3 1/2 months

Tomorrow I leave for a 5 day trip to a village called
Teculutan where there is a private hospital for the poor village people. A
group of doctors are coming from the US to do orthopedic surgery and we are
going along to help with translation and whatever else we can. I am very
excited for the experience.

In preparation, I went to the store tonight to buy some
small food items: apples, cereal bars, etc. As I pulled my car out of the
parking lot to head home, something hit me. Nothing about the trip to the
grocery store was difficult. I knew where it was. I had a car to get there. I
knew what items were available, where to find them, and what they’re called in
Spanish. I knew what questions the cashier would ask me. I knew where & how
to exchange my empty water jug for a full one. I knew I could get my parking validated
because my purchase total was more than 100Q. As silly as it seems, this was a
monumental event. Needing something, knowing where and how to acquire it, and
doing so without difficulty or confusion is, to me, a sign of independence
& successful adjustment. As we’re growing up, the people around us are
constantly instructing us, guiding us, teaching us, helping us to learn how to
get along in the world as an independent person. As adults, we often take for
granted what we know, and even sometimes try to stay within the comfort of what
we learned about living as children. I am very grateful for the people in this
country who went out of their way to instruct, guide, teach or help me whether
it be explaining a concept or word I don’t understand, or simply see a receipt
in my grocery bag as I approach the parking validation counter &  and ask for the receipt instead of money to validate my parking.

I’ve been priveliged to become acquainted with some very
gracious people in Guatemala—people who have turned off the autopilot mode of
their lives to extend a hand of friendship and belonging to me. I hope I either
have been, or can be, that savior for someone else at some point. It has meant
everything to me. I once learned that every human being, regardless of age,
nationality, or other circumstance needs 3 basic things: acceptance, belonging
and control. The people who have taken the time to help me or open their arms
to a stranger like me have granted me, in some way, these 3 things. Without
these people I would be struggling with this adjustment much more than I am.

Street Clowns & Social Responsibility

 It’s quite typical to see people in the streets selling various items: fruit, phone cards, newspapers, even packs of gum or toys. It’s illegal, so they have to keep an eye out for police while
selling their items. Also, when you stop at a red light often someone will
clean your windshield, hoping for a few Quetzales as payment. And of course, as
in all places I’ve been, there are beggars. I see one man every day on my way home
from the Project who has no legs and rides around on a certain street corner in
a wheelchair rigged with steerable pedals for his hands. All these things seem
“normal” to me. However, I have seen other strange and almost pitiful people,
mostly kids, in the streets trying to make a living. They are the street
performers.

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A young father with a 7 year old boy, dressed in clown suits
with painted faces run out in the street as soon as the light turns red. The
father quickly lifts the boy on his back as the boy proceeds to juggle for
10-15 seconds—just long enough to elicit impressive or merciful emotions from
drivers and just short enough to allow them time to disassemble their
performing stance and run by as many windows as possible to collect donations before
the light changes and everyone continues on their way never to think of the
street performers again. I’ve seen the juggling act often. Two young teenage
sisters in traditional Mayan dress juggling some sort of small fruit, the
younger sister standing on the elder’s back. Today I saw two boys, maybe 7 and
9 trying to juggle tennis balls, but neither of them were any good. One would
attempt to juggle and the other would scramble after the balls which would
bounce or roll under the cars lined up at the light. Considering how impatient
and inconsiderate drivers are in Guate, I was impressed to see no one honked or
yelled at the boys for their sloppy presentation, and even a few coins or bills
poked out the top of a cracked window here and there.

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Today I also saw a teenage boy blowing fire. No donations
for him. I wanted to give him something but had no cash with me. He looked very
unhappy and it made me wonder what exactly he had in his mouth for blowing fire. He
was close enough to the slums that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a
substance whose container would read “TOXIC: DO NOT INGEST”

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I don’t know enough about the social support system here to
make an educated philosophical decision about beggar handouts or street
performer donations. Part of me thinks I don’t want to encourage them to keep
doing something without real value. I’d prefer they didn’t receive any
financial reinforcement and thus, learned a skill or trade instead. But perhaps
that’s not feasible here. And who knows, maybe little Jorge likes spending his
afternoons hanging out with his dad learning how to juggle better. Maybe his
sister paints his clown face, and they giggle together as he sees in the mirror
what crazy idea she came up with that day. Either way, do I give them money and
reinforcement or withhold and hope that it encourages them to do something else
more productive and useful and in the meantime are able find help or support
through social services? I’m still not sure what the answer is. But the issue
is definitely complex: political, philosophical, spiritual…

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Thoughts?

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A World of Opposites

Time in Guate: 3 months, 1 week
Weather: Sunny, warm, breezy (someone say hi to the Utah snow for me!)


I have been working at the Project for 6 weeks now. I have been writing notes almost every day either at lunch or after the day is over. I am completely overwhelmed by the things I am exposed to and learning each day. I feel like the kids I work with teach me much more about life and myself than I teach them about, well, anything. 


Two weeks ago we began summer camp, and I planned some activities for the classes. We divided into two teams and planned to have a competition through the weeks with activities. The first day was a disaster. We played 3 games, one involved physical involvement, one was just talking as a group, and one involved drawing & writing individually. My initial thought, written down that afternoon, was, that the whole thing was an enormous failure in both classes. Blatant cheating, poor sportsmanship, disrespect. However, now after having time to think about it I see that there were small successes and opportunities to learn and grow.


 Some kids who never talk to anyone, told the whole class 3 things about themselves during "Two truths & a Lie." That must have been difficult and unnerving for them. But they were courageous and did it.  Also, when things fell apart in the afternoon so bad that half the students refused to participate at all and my teacher gave them a stern lecture I watched some of them really shine. As one of the older boys left after the disastrous day he said angrily, "I'm not coming anymore" to which I responded with a plea that I needed his help, his example, to make things better. I had no idea how much that would mean to him. He came to me two days later (the following day was a holiday) and say "I've been thinking for 2 days about what you said and about what happened on Tuesday. I would like to help you. I know I contributed to the problem but I think that we just need to talk about some things as a group and we can make it work" I watched him voluntarily lead a group discussion with the class about how they need to work together and be more respectful of each other, me & the teacher." I was so impressed (and equally frustrated that I couldn't express to him how impressed I really was!)  Another student upon returning to the Project that day said to me (in English!) "I'm sorry. I want help you." Yet another gave me a hug when he arrived and spent the day close by me constantly asking if I was happy or if I needed help with anything. 


Learning how to deal with life when its messy and painful is so important. It's full of disappointment and frustration. Things don't always go as planned.  They are teaching me how to be patient, how to be forgiving, how to recognize that people are not perfect, and you love them anyway. They certainly have accepted me with my lousy Spanish and lack of cultural understanding. I experience such an intense array of emotions working there: frustration, sadness, disappointment, joy, pride, happiness, love, compassion and everything in between.


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Last Friday we had a monthly parent meeting in lieu of the kids coming to the Project. I really enjoy being able to meet the parents of my kids. It can be very eye-opening. Additionally, I like parent meeting days because they give me time to talk with my teacher, Lily. On regular days we rarely have time to chat. As we were waiting for the parents to finish meeting with the social workers, she said to me "Anna, the kids really love you. They are always asking where you are when you're not around. They tell me they like your jacket or your shoes, always saying nice things. The other day Marvin asked me if you were going to still be with us next year. They really love you. That doesn't happen very often. I haven't seen them become so attached to a volunteer like this in a long time."  Wow. What do you say to that? How humbled I feel to have the respect and love of these kids. I certainly return their sentiments. 


Then as the mother of two of my older boys joined us, Lily introduced me and the woman's eyes lit up. A gold-toothed big smile spread across her face as she quickly stood to give me the first of several hugs. She proceeded to tell Lily and I that the boys have been attending the Project much more frequently than they had previously and when they come home they are always talking about Anna. "Who is Anna? I would think to myself. Is she a new teacher? A new student? Whoever she is, they certainly enjoy being around her, and seem to be doing lots of fun, interesting things with her." She continued in this way for a few minutes expressing her appreciation, occasionally getting up to give me another hug. How happy I am to be positively contributing to the lives of her boys, especially in a way that pleases her. 


It's hard for me to reconcile my life with my volunteer experience. I went to a party last weekend with many affluent people who drive expensive cars, wear expensive clothes, and eat expensive food. How do I not feel guilty about what I have? Especially when I genuinely would like to give it all to my kids. I brought some homemade strawberry jam to the Project for a cooking class last week (we were making a cake & it was going to be an optional topping). Twelve teenagers were crowded around me asking for a spoonful in their hand. They LOVED it. "It's just jam," I thought. But to them, it was creme brulee, caviar, lobster.  Something about it, about them, seems so pure, so untainted. I much prefer being with my kids than at a rooftop poolside party. I love that community. So humble. So simple. So pure.


Read my Dia de los Muertos post for more about the traditional way of life in Guate. 

My story: Eat, Pray, Love

Time in Guate: 3 months, 1 week


On Friday I went to see Comer, Rezar, Amar (Eat, Pray, Love) with my friend Nidia. Saturday, for the first time in my life, I watched the same movie again. About 10 months ago my sister sent me a text and told me I needed to read the book and said it reminded her so much of me. I had no idea how true this would be. 


Anyone who wants to understand who I am and what I've experienced in the last 3 years needs to see/read this story. Since moving to Guate I have struggled to keep myself from being completely bogged down and/or distracted by the minutia of moving to a new country. I've frequently forgotten my direction, my goals, my self affirmations. Watching this movie helped me remember what I've done, how hard I've fought to get where I am today. And even though some days I feel isolated or discouraged, I am happy where I am. 


Watching this movie helped me see my own experiences and choices from a third person perspective. Observing the interactions between Liz and her family & friends, especially their disapproval was enlightening. Additionally, I read some reviews of the book and movie today and have seen quite a few negative comments. People say Liz is self-centered, "she takes herself too seriously," her book mocks religion, is full of "agonizing introspection," and even "I have a hard time following the story of her world travels because I'm too busy wanting it to be my own." 


The reviews were very enlightening for me as I thought of the people in my own world, family & friends condemning my choices or excusing them as part of "a phase." It's been difficult for me to see things from another perspective because I am so closely and tenderly connected to my own. But reading the reviews I was able to see that sometimes, the opinions of others are simply that. Not necessarily objective or even useful. Sometimes its just fear, envy, or a very simple inability to relate. I am no longer going to feel the need to apologize for the path I have chosen for my life. I will try to shed myself of the need for approval of my life decisions. In the meantime, I will do my best to love and accept those in my life with whose decisions and lifestyles I do not agree. Diversity is a gift. And happiness is a choice.


“Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it.”


-Eat, Pray, Love (the book)

Learning from teenagers

Time in Guate: 2 1/2 months
Weather: No more rain!! Sunny, breezy, cool...

I have been volunteering at the Project for a month now, and I feel like I am just getting to really now my kids. I spent a few weeks with them and thought I had it all figured out. But as it turns out, even though they seem at first glance to be just like any other kids, they have some real differences that oftentimes make my head spin.

I was explaining to one boy that I thought Shanghai was very similar to New York. He asked me plainly “What’s New York?” This 15 year old listened, wide eyed, to me explaining NYC. He had never heard of buildings so tall!

A 16 year old boy who has the attention span of a puppy (and a somewhat defiant attitude) worked with me for over an hour on his homework, asking genuine questions and staying very focused.

Today I brought ice cream for an activity, and since there is no freezer at the Project, it sat in a fridge and by the afternoon was no so much ice, mostly cream. My teacher asked if the kids could divide the ice cream and eat it after we finished the activity. Of course, but I don’t think they’ll want it. It’s warm. Yuck. She gave me a knowing look and said “they’ll want it.” Sure enough, they did everything but lick the carton. Every last one of them ate that luke warm foamy mess. And LOVED it.

Are they average kids? They’re kids that have nothing, and appreciate everything. Kids that are humble and timid. Scared and insecure. Dishonest sometimes. In some ways they are just what I'd expect, yet at times my preconceived notions are completely shattered.