Catching Water

I won't cease wondering what kind of impact this experience of living and working in Guatemala will have on our girls. I think about the visits to communities in which we work. I carry images of my girls playing alongside indigenous children, their brightly colored guipiles (traditional Mayan clothing) in stark contrast to my girls' outfits bought at a large department store in the US. 

From a trip a couple years ago:

Duck, Duck Goose (Pato, Pato, Ganso)

Makes friends fast, a life-long skill.

My girls have experienced a lot. With time their memories will fade and become more ideas than specific recollections.  

On the way to Honduras a couple weeks ago we stopped to visit a project that MCC supports near the Guatemalan border. Guatemala has the 4th highest malnutrition rate in the world, and within Guatemala this area is among the poorest. 

It’s starkly impoverished. Children with extended bellies wearing clothes intended for kids half their size. The poverty is real and unbelievable and yet there it is, begging us to notice. 

We were welcomed in the community by a group of women, the leaders of the community working to improve their access to water and food. They fed us bread soaked in a sweet corn-based liquid. 

Photo credit: Ellie

Ruby really enjoyed it, and the women enjoyed her. 

The rest of us offered ours to the kids sitting near us. “We just ate lunch. We’re a bit full." 

 We went on a walk to visit their local water source, the most dinky watering holes imaginable.

Peering at one of the "wells."
(Don Peters, MCC Canada Executive Director, joined us on this trip)

These women wake up at 4:30 every morning to walk here and gather water. It can take two hours to fill a small container. These plastic bowls “hold” their place in line, as the water trickles in over the course of hours. 

 I couldn't help but feel the irony in carrying around our plastic water bottles to quench our thirst as we stared into the small puddles of water. 

This is their reality, their daily ritual, whereas my morning ritual, in contrast, is to take a hot shower, drink hot coffee, and check my Facebook. 

This area has been hard hit by the drought that has passed over Central America over the last couple years. MCC’s work here has been to support a local NGO to construct water catchment systems that save and store water for individual families. This water can then be used for things like watering gardens. 

Retrieving water from the Catchment System

The girls were with us, and we trudged up and down the dusty paths, visiting sparse but proudly demonstrated gardens, water systems, and these watering holes. As happens often while living here, I was unsure how much of the desperate situation to explain to my 3 and 5 year-olds. 

It was hot and sweaty and dusty. I carried Ruby on my back up the steep hills. There were several complaints from our girls. “It’s hot. I’m tired. My legs hurt. Are we done yet?” 

I don’t want to instill a sense of guilt in our girls. That’s not the point. But I do want them to know that there are others who have very little. That basics like running water are not a given for all people. (Ironically, as I wrote this, our electricity and water were out for more than five hours due to a thunderstorm). So I explained in simple terms that these women are people Mommy and Daddy work with, that our job with MCC is to help them figure out ways to catch rain water and feed their families. 

“These women have to walk along here to get water. You know how we have water in our house, in the faucet? These women have to carry their water all the way from these water holes to their house. Every day. Lots of times every day. It's a lot of work.”

The next day, as we continued our travels towards Honduras, it began to rain. 

“Mommy! It’s raining!” This, from Ellie. "That means our friends from yesterday can have some plants.”

I just looked at her. Somehow, some little piece of the day before had stayed with her. She made the connection that these “friends” will be thankful it’s raining, that the rain will be helpful. That with this rain, their plants will grow, and their children may get some food.

I hope and pray that these moments will be nestled deep in their hearts, that the feelings of compassion and joy for others will be nurtured. That our life here and the stories we will choose to tell them as their memories of Guatemala fade, will shape our girls and our family in unfathomable ways. 

Second parenting tip of the day

Ellie came home from school sobbing.

Every week, the nina/o de la semana (kid of the week) usually sends home a sorpresa, a little bag of candies or treats or toys (like from a birthday party). The teacher sends home a count of the number of girls and boys in class for the parents the week before (because usually the sorpresas are gender-specific).

Ellie was the last girl to get picked up today, and there was one girl sorpresa missing. Except, the said nina de la semana was still at school for after-school cheerleading, and she didn't want to give Ellie the last bag. She wanted it for herself.

Ellie was distraught. Heartbroken. These weekly sorpresas are a huge highlight, and this was a Big Deal to her.

It could be that the girl's Mom counted wrong and there weren't enough. There was one left for a boy, but it was for someone who was absent. And Ellie didn't dream of taking the boy one. It could be that her Mom wasn't counting her own daughter in the count, but either way, the girl insisted that she get one, at the expense of Ellie.

Hard life lessons. Lately Ellie has been learning phrases like "hurt feelings" and "selfish" and "not kind," and they definitely helped her express herself today, though most likely it was all just an accident. It's hard to know there was a bag available, just not for Ellie. A missed opportunity for kindness. Her teacher felt horrible, but there was no solving this one.

I sat and hugged her. I let her cry and express herself. I told her how hard it is to be hurt, that it's OK to feel sad and upset and confused. I want her to be able to talk to me and tell me about things, no matter the topic, and it starts with these Little But Actually It's a Really Big Deal Things.

Fortunately, my girls are at the age that a bike ride to the corner store for some helado will heal a lot of wounds. Every few minutes I hear, "Mommy, I'm really sad about the sorpresa," but the sobbing has stopped.

My second parenting tip of the day: ice cream heals (in moderation, of course).

Injustice

We've been conducting interviews recently and a question we sometimes ask got me thinking. Here's a paraphrased version: 

Of all the injustices in the world, which one are you most likely to care about?  

This got me thinking about a potential list of injustices. 

I brainstormed, and in no way is this an exhaustive list, but some injustices that came to mind:

Hunger

Childhood poverty

Cycles of generational poverty 

Inequality

Racism 

Sexism

Hatred

Bigotry 

Sex trafficking

Child labor

Sweat shops 

Homelessness 

Lack of services for veterans (ptsd and mental health issues)

Illiteracy

Access to medical care

Access to clean water

For-profit prison systems

Corruption in government 

Development of business trumping the poor

Indigenous populations losing their culture

Global warming

Over-consumption

Child abuse

Domestic abuse

Female genital mutilation

Child brides

Child soldiers

Fair wages

The problem is that many people ignore these and choose to focus on trivial issues. 

Complaints about too many social programs and taxes? For real? From your safe, comfy home with decent schools and maintained roads? Really? Or, maybe you want to focus on a person's sexual orientation? How about your right to carry a weapon without any accountability? That's what you're pissed about? That's where your energies lie, when people are dying, children are being abused? I simply don't understand. We are having completely different conversations. Or rather, we see the world very differently and therefore aren't even at the same table.

This isn't just about hashtag-first-world-problems. I can acknowledge a time and place for that. This is another level, getting angry and worked up over things that, in comparison, don't mean squat.

And this is even more frustrating because most of these trivial concerns come from my fellow(I hate to say that because it implies we are somehow coming from a similar point of view) Christians. If you, my fellow Christ-followers, could put aside abortion and gay marriage, just for a minute, then what? What else could you focus on? You're pro-life? Great. Lets talk about the women who chose not to abort. How do we ensure their babies aren't hungry or malnourished? That they are treated with respect and dignity as human beings? Is the right of two people who love each other marrying really affecting your ability to raise your children? Please, move on to something that actually matters in this world. 

It's not about guilt. I know it's overwhelming, the list of issues that actually matter. But pick something that matters. Don't feel guilty. Don't just get mad. Figure out how to advocate for someone in a position of injustice, without a Voice. Acknowledge that there truly are injustices. Begin there, with a lens of empathy and understanding.

This isn't about being self-righteous. It's about caring about Love more than Hate. Righting wrongs. Ending cycles of ignorance and acknowledging privilege. Being the Change you want to see. 

What injustices are you going to care about ? And, how are you going to respond?

El Salvador-Current Realities

You may have read something in the news this week about a disease carried by mosquitos, the zika virus, that has now spread to 25 countries. For adults, the symptoms include fever, rash, joint paint, and conjunctivitis, but more seriously there has been a connection to a serious neurological birth disorder called microcephaly, where the brain is basically much smaller than normal. Because of this, some countries, including El Salvador, have advised women to avoid becoming pregnant for the next two years, until at least 2018.

Let me say that again: they are recommending that there be no new pregnancies for the next two years.

One of our partners decided to do some education with their communities to promote awareness of standing water, where the mosquitos and their larvae are most likely to infest. There are recommendations to replace standing water every few days, and to bleach and monitor closely the pilas that usually have standing water (outdoor sinks used for washing clothes, dishes, and pretty much everything). Unfortunately, this can be both difficult and impractical in areas with little access to water.

We currently have four workers in El Salvador and about five projects. Though we live in Guatemala, our duties as Representatives also cover El Salvador.

As if the threat of disease is not enough, El Salvador has been on our radar because of a recent spike in violent deaths, a 70% increase in 2015. A huge majority of these deaths are attributed to an increase in gang violence. Some of our workers live very near these realities, working alongside people directly affected by this violence. Some statistics show that El Salvador has surpassed Honduras as the country with the highest murder rate in the world.

A very close co-worker of our staff has an 8-year old son and she is already preparing herself for the reality that within the next two years she will need to move. Why? Because they live directly across the street from a gang member, and within a couple years this child will be targeted. That is the reality of this context. It's much easier to understand the desperation of families wanting to flee their homes, even their country when there are names and faces to these situations, especially when one considers the context in which the gangs have emerged, and the role of the US in many of these situations. These issues are not as clear-cut as some would like to portray them.

Another piece of news in the last week is that the Peace Corps has withdrawn from El Salvador "due to the ongoing security environment." Granted, the Peace Corps is usually the first to leave in many countries, and is not necessarily a litmus test for when to leave, but it is still telling of the situation. They withdrew 158 volunteers from Honduras in 2012 for safety concerns as well. There had been about 113 volunteers in El Salvador in the last year or so, down to about 55 this month when the decision was made to withdraw. Currently there are about 146 volunteers in Guatemala (depending on where you get information).

For now we are monitoring the situation, checking in often with our staff, and praying for those who are affected.

The US government is not willing to leave American citizens in El Salvador, yet it's deemed necessary and acceptable that women and children be sent back to such unsafe situations. One quote I read sums it up best:

"Clearly there is a humanitarian crisis in El Salvador. It's unconscionable to send people back into the same situation."

Before Noon Today

A few things I did before noon today:

A work video call with other Reps and our bosses throughout Latin America. (Isn't technology amazing?) I love that our job connects us with people who live in Haiti, Colombia, Mexico, Honduras, Nicaragua and Bolivia. We only get to see this group in person about once a year, but we so appreciate connecting with the only other people in the world who know exactly what we're struggling with in our job and the reality of trying to balance life and work and another culture.

We received some really good news that a recent Guatemalan applicant to MCC IVEP (an exchange program where young adults from outside North America live and work in US or Canada for one year) was accepted and will be traveling to the US this August. It's special because she also happens to have been my Spanish teacher for a short time, and she's a very sweet and deserving person of this opportunity. We went in person to tell her the good news, and she cried tears of joy, she was so happy and surprised. Another fun part of our job that we got to experience today.

Ruby had her one-year check-up and shots. She's 21 pounds, 74 centimeters (this wasn't a super accurate measurement, but it's around 29 inches). This puts her around 50th percentile for weight and height. Not too surprising as she's long and lean. 
Then I walked and picked up the girls, and walked home. Another day where I'm thankful our home and the girls' school, and in this case, the local Mennonite Seminary where we went this morning AND the pediatrician's office, are all so close to each other that I can walk with Ruby in the stroller and feel safe.

2 years in Guatemala

Yesterday marked two years in Guatemala.

At the airport in Portland, April 20, 2013, ready for a grand adventure.

Our flight to Guatemala.

It's so cliche, but the truth is it has flown by. I look at pictures of my girls when we arrived two years ago, and I'm almost floored. Where have two years of their lives gone? Or the last year?

A sampling of our first few months:

Hazel was sick a lot in those first few months.

We talk about going "home" to the Pacific Northwest after our 5-year term is finished, but I can't wrap my head around the fact that in three years we will have a 7 1/2 year-old, a 5 1/2 year-old, and a 3 year-old. 

Some days I grit my teeth and get to the tedious tasks that fill up the majority of our days of work and administrative tasks in the office. I see myself pushing through, forging past this task or that, looking to the next team meeting or travel planned, those things that give me more life and energy. But I realize I have to be careful. If I push through too blindly, I'll push past these formative years of my girls. 

5 years is nothing to sneeze at. If and when we head back to the States after this experience, the girls' sense of "home" will be Guatemala. They will be uprooted from their friends and their school and their lives here. 

In two years we've learned a lot. There's a steep learning curve in this role in the first year or two, so to be finally feeling like we have a handle on some of the expectations feels good. The job is extremely cyclical, with reports and plans and meetings on a yearly calendar. It's easy to live month to month or between activities.

There have been surprises along the way. We're living in our 4th (and hopefully last) home since arriving in Guatemala. I'd say my Spanish has improved immensely (from very basic), but I think I would have expected it to be even better by now. I hope I'm not saying that in three years. 

I didn't know how hard it would be to balance working part-time, being at home with my girls, the stress of a new language and not really having any close friends.

Our lives have changed. We've changed. We came as a family of 4, now we're 5. We came with one language, our house is now filled with "Spanglish." Our girls are getting older every day.  

We came as vegetarians. We no longer abstain from meat, mostly when we're outside of the home. 

One of the best parts of living here: fresh squeezed juice. I will never want juice from concentrate again.  

There's a lot more I could say about our first two years here, or the fact that three still remain in our contract. I will continue to write and reflect and record our experience here. We have a lot of life to live in the next 3 years.

We Survived Year 1

We landed in Guatemala in April of last year. 

On the plane to Guatemala

We’ve lapped the one year mark.

These girls have changed so much in a year.

Our first week in Guatemala

How have we changed? Who are we, one year later?

It’s been a dense year, full of changes in culture, lifestyle, language, 3 home moves, a steep learning curve to a very demanding job, watching our 9 month-old and 2 year old grow in confidence and language skills, and, not to be overlooked, learning to work together as a couple.

Often change happens so slowly that we can’t name it until there’s a stark contrast from “before.” 

So, how have we changed?

-We eat meat again. I still don’t cook with it at home but we eat out regularly with our travel schedule and the girls really love chicken.

-We continue to think about what it means to live with less. We downsized to 8 duffel bags to move to Guatemala, and then inherited a house full of items from past MCC workers. I am more aware of how much we have in excess than what we lack, especially compared to people we come into contact with every day.

-Simple things like brown sugar from the States bring a lot of joy. After months of putting up with weird brown sugar here, my life is changed for the better because I can enjoy the flavor of my oatmeal again, thanks to my in-laws bringing me packages of brown sugar from the States. 

Goodies from the States I don't get here.

-I’ve heard that personalities change in different languages, and that seems to be true for us. Normally a verbal processor, I don’t have many English speakers with whom I can talk with freely, besides my husband. This has been extremely difficult since I don’t speak Spanish super well, and especially not to the level where I can express myself like I often would like. I’ve become more introverted, quiet, less chatty in group situations. In contrast, because of his high level of Spanish, Michael has stepped up and become more outgoing, intentional in conversation, and to most people here is much less the introvert. I wonder if 4 more years of this pattern will form and shape us more permanently? 

-We don’t get many date opportunities. In the States, we had our occasional dinner out away from the girls and even a couple nights, thanks to trusted friends in Fresno. Here, we have left the girls exactly 3 times, twice after they were in bed for a couple hours where someone stayed in the living room, and once over night when their aunt and uncle were here. We have less freedom to make time for ourselves as a couple. That has a multitude of implications. 

-My girls are amazingly adaptable. They've adopted to life and language and frequent traveling with so much ease.

 -I care less about certain material things. We are still American consumers, and with a bounty of opportunities to partake in American stores, (Costco, Sears, fancy malls), we can still easily get caught up in “stuff” here. But, there’s been a shift. I’m rarely on Pinterest, except when I need to find a specific recipe. I don’t look for how to make my house “nice.” I already live in abundance, even if all my things are mismatched or partially glued together. My girls don’t have a well painted, smartly-decorated room with matching bedspreads and wall hangings and floor rugs. Yet they’re still happy.

-It’s hard for me to take “first world problems” seriously when Guatemala has one of the highest country chronic malnutrition rates in the world (usually swings between #3 and #4). Many people in this country don’t have access to clean water or basic food. I just can’t care that you found a good deal on those expensive shoes that could have fed families here for weeks. I'm not judging, I just don't know how to share that joy.

-We greet everyone with a kiss on the cheek. It’s a habit now. 

-We lock our doors in the car every where we drive.

-We don’t always wear our seat belts.

-Though both my girls are almost always in their carseats (and my 22 month-old is still rear-facing), there are times when at least one of them is unbuckled, sitting on my lap. This is a common reality here and doesn’t induce panic in this safety-mongering mom like it did when we first arrived. Sometimes it’s simply more practical. Either Ellie sits on my lap, or I force someone to sit in the truck bed. Fortunately, for my own sanity, Hazel has very rarely not been in a car seat. She’s just too squirmy. 

-I’ve learned how to make popcorn in a pot on the stove, without my beloved Whirley Pop, how to use a pressure cooker to cook beans in an hour (this was a major paradigm shift), and how to to knead dough by hand without my KitchenAid. 

Our MCC Office

-It’s hard to be a part-time worker and a full-time mom. Really hard. I haven’t figured out yet how to do it well. I'm not sure I will ever figure it out.

-I’ve learned living in another country can be exciting, scary, comfortable, uncomfortable, challenging, and life-changing.

Adventuring together in Peru last month.

So far, it's been worth it.

Bolivia: Food and Mud

Our trip to Bolivia, Part 2

French fries (and other forms of potatoes) are a staple food in parts of Bolivia. 

Also, a root called Yucca. We had some delicious "sopa de mani" (peanut soup) with french fries sprinkled on top.

Then there are chuños (Choon-yoze). I had heard about these from Michael as he remembers eating them growing up in Peru as a little boy. They are freeze-dried balls of potatoes.

Ellie's apprehensive face summarizes how I felt about them too. Not my favorite.

On one of our last days of our meetings we went to visit a low-German Mennonite colony, which MCC Bolivia partners with. There are groups of conservative Mennonites who live in Bolivia, Belize, and Mexico. They live simply, much like the Amish communities in the US.

We ate purple fruit soup, a Mennonite dish.

 On our way back from a visit to a Mennonite cheese factory, it started to rain.

And then this happened:

 We were stuck in the mud in a very large van, or more like a mini-bus. Our group was divided into two buses, and both got stuck.

The men tried to help push the first bus out of its rut. 

Mostly, their shoes got really dirty.

We quickly realized that these vehicles weren't going anywhere.

 Luckily, some friendly low-German Mennonites passed on by and decided to try to help us.

They went to the mayor's house down the road, who recently acquired a very large tractor. In these communities, as part of a commitment to live simply, the tractors and anything with wheels usually only have the metal rims (they take off the rubber tires). Fortunately for us, this tractor was so new it hadn't lost its rubber tires yet. (I didn't get a picture of the tractor).

After being drug out of the first spot, the tractor attached both of our buses together. We began to dovetail and ended up in some bushes:

I was nervous but everyone assured me we couldn't tip over. I had a hard time believing them.

 While we waited to be rescued, the girls watched a movie. They were fairly oblivious to our position.

Eventually, the mayor drug the first bus down the dirt road, out of the mud, and to the paved highway. He returned to bail out the large milk truck that was also stuck before dragging us out to the highway. In total, we were delayed almost two hours. It could have been worse. We could have been stuck in there all night. It definitely made our Bolivia trip more memorable.

Next, we headed to Lima and Cusco in Peru.