Our trip to Guatemala has so far been a whirlwind of learning, feeling ignorant, exploration, and gratitude.  Here is my Top 5 List of things we have done up to this point:

5. Trip to Iximche/ Atitlan

Last weekend, a friend asked us to accompany his family on a day-trip to Lake Atitlan that turned into a 2-day-trip after a stop off at some local Mayan Ruins ran a little long.  Iximche was an expansive Mayan civilization in the 1400’s, short-lived due to Spanish conquest a century later.  Compared to other popular ruins, it is relatively small but still beautiful and fascinating nonetheless.

Lake Atitlan, our destination on Day 2, is hard to describe.  After a rapid descent on perilous roads in a Toyota Yaris packed tight with 6 people, we arrived at a pristine lake surrounded by three volcanoes, cliffs, and waterfalls.  It felt like another world and definitively represents paradise on earth.  Neither pictures nor prose could do it justice, and to this moment I am still in shock that such a place exists.

This is a Mayan momument to the Sun God, on the Iximche property.

This is a Mayan Soccer field on the Iximche property.

We took the boat out on Lake Atitlan. You can see the volcanoes in the back.

Here is a view of the volcanoes surrounding Lake Atitlan.

4. Playing Soccer with the Local Kids

Middle schoolers in Guatemala, much the same as America, are painfully awkward and terribly defiant toward authority.  Though I’m sure many of their snickers and scoffs are directed at the weird and freakishly tall Americans, they have their redeeming moments.  I’m honored each week when they break out the soccer ball and ask me to play.  I think they enjoy watching me stumble around like an oaf, but I enjoy the challenge.  I think the first time I scored a goal, I completed my initiation and they generally act warmer towards me now.  But for those that were still skeptical, I bribed them with free American techno music and they’ve come around too.

3. Hammocking on the Back Porch

Our house is incredibly accommodating and ridiculously beautiful.  Our back porch faces two volcanoes and sits on top of a coffee farm.  There aren’t many things in the world more peaceful than reading in our hammock on the porch, sitting beside a fire and listening to the local church choir echo through the valley.

Much hammocking happens here.

2. Motorcycle Trips Through the Countryside

Monte Cristo owns a few motorcycles and every once in a while, Hilary and I need to borrow one to go to the store or grab something from the city.  And, on the beautiful days, we’ll strap on our boots and just ride through the mountains of Guatemala, cruising the dirt roads and traversing the occasional puddle.  Hilary holds tight on my waist while I try to navigate the Motocross-esque obstacles, a little distracted by the mountainous views extending behind the tree line.  Insanely romantic and a little too dangerous, we’re grateful to have each to enjoy the adventure.

1. The Conversation that Changed Everything

After having been at the Center for about a week, we requested a time to meet with the school administrator to discuss our specific roles at Monte Cristo.  She smiled and agreed and asked us to return to the office after lunch.  We returned, ready to lay out our plan on how much we would observe, how much we would study, and how much we would work, sure that our daily schedule was ready for implementation.  Alejandra asked us to sit, started to talk, and changed everything.

Hilary and I were under the impression that the school was fully sustainable, had everything figured out, and that we would spend the year mostly studying their perfect model.  Ale then proceeded to explain the history of Monte Cristo, the gracious donors who started the operation, and how they survived when donations ran dry.  It has been mostly a story of hardship and bootstrapping, but also of widespread impact and impressive results.  Many people have foregone pay and sacrificed the little they had to keep Monte Cristo running, and they’re ready for a change.  After briefing us on the history, we were asked to research the school’s assets, create a business, and find a way for the school to be self-sustainable so they could ensure its future.  In that moment, so much of my life made sense- my college major, my passions and my weaknesses.  In that moment I understood what my life had been leading to.  That was my favorite moment thus far.

The entrance to Monte Cristo sits on the left and the front of our Casita on the right.

View from hotel in Bangkok

Four days ago, I boarded a 19 hour plane from Boston to Bangkok without any expectations for my arrival here in Thailand. I remember making the long walk through the Suvarnabhumi International Airport to find make it through customs, find my luggage, and eventually get in a cab that would take me to my home for the week in Bangkok. As soon as I got in the cab, I handed the address written in Thai to my driver, he nodded, and said “Oh, this far.”  I realized that this first step in my journey wasn’t going to be as easy as I originally thought, but I was up for the ride (literally and figuratively).

After almost an hour of driving, I made it to the Ebina House Hotel outside of the city of Bangkok to begin my training to prepare me for being a high-school English teacher. I never really knew why people always talked about how bad jet lag is. As of right now, I haven’t slept a full night in almost 5 days and am becoming to feel a bit

Kanchanaburi, Thailand

under the weather because of the long hours and excessive traveling. I am continuing to fight through because I know that all of the training sessions about teaching and the Thai culture will be well worth it in the future.

As much as

I tried to not have any preconceived notions before I traveled, there are many things that have happened in Thailand that I never really thought would be true. First, the traffic in Bangkok is as scary as people describe it. There really aren’t any driving laws here. It is pretty much every man for themselves. Second, the food is much different than food ordered at your local Thai restaurant in the United States. Here, when you order Chicken Curry, you are not just receiving the breast, you are receiving the WHOLE chicken in your meal. Yes, feet and all. Third, Thai is a very difficult language to learn. At this point, I can currently say very few phrases like

Grand Palace

“Hello” (Sawadee), “Thank You” (Khawp Khun), and “I am good” (Sabai Dee). Hopefully things will continue to get easier as I continue to immerse myself in this amazingly unique culture.

Currently, I am laying in bed in my hotel in Kanchanaburi, which is a small city

about 3 hours west of Bangkok using wi-fi for the first time since I arrived in Thailand. We were able to take a break from training and see some amazing sights here. Tomorrow we will head back to Bangkok, meet our school coordinator, and make the long 12-hour drive to our school in the city of Chiang Rai. I will post as soon as I am able to find internet in my new home in Northern Thailand. In the meantime, enjoy some pictures that I’ve taken since arriving here.

-Kyle

Part Two

As you can see from part one, the perilous history of most Guatemalan Mayan communities sets the stage for generational poverty and lack of opportunity. The Cardenas family started CEMOC ten years ago with the firm belief that education is the door to success. A door to a better life for the students, as well as a better life for Guatemala by raising up strong young men and women with an unwavering moral compass and capacity for independent thinking.

This past school year, CEMOC had 90 students, 30 in each grade, that correspond to the 7, 8, and 9^th grades in the US. Though at times awkward and unsure of themselves, just like middle-school students in America, these Guatemalan young people have tremendous respect for others and gratitude at the chance they have been given to study.

A group of 9th graders chatting with their friends and professors after their Final Exam in English.

They are taught standard academic courses such as Math, Science, History, and Spanish with additional classes in English, Accounting, Mayan Kaqchikel, and Ecosystems. Furthermore, the students study in workshops relating to ironwork, carpentry, farming, cooking, and sewing. These training areas prepare the students with lucrative skills after graduation from CEMOC. The school also operates under the strong belief that nutrition is the key to beneficial learning for children, and therefore provides breakfast and lunch to all the students- a rare luxury in rural Guatemala.

The line for a yummy breakfast of queso and frijoles in the cafeteria.

Because of all these amenities, CEMOC is recognized as one of the best schools in this region. Though the mission of the school is to provide education to those who cannot afford it, affluent families in the neighboring town, Chimaltenago, realize the quality of holistic education offered at CEMOC and send their children as well. The tuition fees paid by those who can afford it, in addition to donations from an Italian foundation, constitute the majority of the school’s income. The school also sells the items made in their carpentry and iron workshops as well as agricultural goods from the farm. Over the years, the school has started various other small businesses such as tourism, coffee, and catering to offset costs.

Items like this metal flower planter will be sold in Chimaltenango to support the school. (Eric and I helped make this one during our first week here).

This is where Eric and I come in… Shortly after arriving, the Cardenas’ asked us to assist them with strengthening their current enterprises and possibly starting a new, more profitable small business. Immediately, Eric and I set to thinking and investigating. We’ve been exploring businesses such as honey, peanuts, lotions, chia seeds, and many other options for the center. Ultimately though, the decision is theirs. We are only here for one year, essentially only enough time to research, write a business plan, obtain a loan, and lay the groundwork for a new enterprise. But we’re going to do the best that we can.

It’s now that I want to thank our professors from Belmont University for preparing us for such a weighty task- creating a social enterprise that funds the education and vocational preparation of the next generation of Guatemalans. Who would think that a 22 and 21 year old would have any chance at doing such a thing? But we have been given the tools, and we thank you.

So, this is what we’re doing here.

These past few weeks have been all about planning. Any free moments we had as a staff team, we were seated around a table discussing lessons, crafts, games, decorations, and schedules for one of the biggest programs put on by the foundation–SuperVacas!

It’s been a great experience getting to be on the other side of the action for once. Though this will be my third SuperVacas with the foundation, it’s the only one that I’ve actually helped plan. I’ve always seemed to arrive in Colombia just in time to participate as a volunteer but never to be part of the planning process.

I definitely appreciate all that goes into designing a week of structured activities and lessons–completely from scratch. Down to the very last detail (like how many toilet paper rolls we would need for the kids to make telescopes or drawing and coloring over 50 paper fish for decoration), we did it all.

The theme for the week is the ocean. God is the captain and we are the sailors–the teachings will revolve around what qualities make a good sailor (a clear mind for thinking and making decisions, an open heart, and hands for serving others).

Needless to say, we had a blast decorating the room. Our team clocked about 15 hours this past weekend making a huge boat to go on the stage, blowing up balloons to look like bubbles, cutting out life-size waves to put on the wall...and I could go on. What I love about the foundation and Jorge’s leadership is that he always wants to make the programs the best they can be. While this often requires extra work on our parts–revising plans, changing ideas at the last minute, late nights of planning–I also have no doubt in my mind that this week’s SuperVacas will be the best we’ve ever had.

We also had fun passing out flyers to literally the entire neighborhood. It was great getting to know more kids in the area and such a fun time seeing familiar faces in the street and realizing that I’ve become a part of this neighborhood. There are few things more rewarding than walking to work and having one of your kids from tutoring run up to you, yelling “profe!” and giving you a big hug.

One this is for sure...it’s going to be so incredibly hard leaving this neighborhood and these beautiful kids and families I’ve come to know and love so dearly. Community is truly a special thing and I’m so excited to get to know more of these kids during SuperVacas week!!

Experimenting with a boat craft

Getting creative with balloons

The beginnings of the boat

Finishing touches

Finished!

Each morning, Guatemala sets ablaze with color.  The sun fights its way through the fog to wake up the budding gardens and relieve the dew from its duty.  The city shops open their doors, all festively adorned, as the buses crank their engines, mobile museums of art unto themselves.  Women return to their looms, masterfully crafting traditional huipil dresses for their growing daughters while young men rifle through their drawers to select their soccer jersey for the day.  Each morning, as I wake up at my painstaking pace, drink my tea and dust off my jeans, I anticipate seeing my favorite color of Guatemala: The Grey.

On the weekends, I live with the Matriarch of Monte Cristo and her husband, Miky and Mario.  They are both astoundingly beautiful, so much so that I am sometimes convinced they are a King and Queen of a different Mayan era.  They both speak with soul-startling beauty, Miky with assured power and Mario with discerning wisdom.  Last Sunday, during breakfast with them, I asked Mario when he started his farming cooperative, the place he still works now.  Two hours later, I left the table a man more humble than when I had started my empanada.

He told me the story of how it started in the 70’s, an initiative to enable poor farmers to pool resources and get approved for credit so they could buy land to support their families.  It grew, rapidly, and soon was convicted, along with the rest of its kind, as a communist plot to disrupt national peace.  In 1980, the Cooperative became a clandestine operation, always working with the mission to help farmers rise out of poverty.  In the same year, a friend contacted Mario to let him know the government had put him on the Black List, and soon would be kidnapped, tortured, and killed like many others if he didn’t somehow intervene.

A priest offered to move Mario to Oklahoma, where he could work under asylum and send money back to his family.  Mario agreed and asked how the priest would finance his wife and three children to get to the states as well; with solemn eyes the priest confessed that the church could only afford a single one-way ticket, the only assured path for Mario to escape his certain fate.  Mario declined, unwilling to leave his family in danger.  He bought a new plot of land on the edge of town, a tall cornfield that he could hide a house in.  The family buried their Bible and anything else that the government could use to convict them of subversion, and lived out of sight for 2 years, always working to help others out of poverty.  Mario told me of others that weren’t as lucky, including American citizens, that weren’t able to hide from those looking and most of whom were last seen being thrown in the back of a military vehicle- no body, no record, no admittance of guilt in years to come.

When Mario told me of his American friends that lost their lives because they worked in economic development, he gave Hilary and I a look- not of worry for our safety, for those times have passed.  I think he was looking at a new generation, one that has the freedom to make the difference that was forbidden to generations past.  I think he was hoping to see the work of his friends vindicated.  Hilary and I are so far underqualified to meet the expectations of our gracious hosts, but we are here to try, and if possible, fulfill some of the work started by braver generations before.

Guatemala’s history is marred by armed conflict, bankrolled by an America trying to save a country from communism that was ultimately devoid of communists.  The atrocities committed by the government were horrific and extensive, kept mostly hidden from the world as it burned itself to the ground.  Indigenous Mayans, once the overwhelming majority of the population, were considered collateral damage as guerrilla revolutionaries challenged their dictators and army generals, who remained unphased by the desecration of human dignity.  A peace agreement was signed in 1996, but still kidnappings continue and the impunity rate remains of the highest in the world.  When I leave my door in the morning, timid about facing my challenges of the day, and I see the grandmothers and grandfathers of Guatemala marching, adorned in wrinkles and crowned with locks of flowing grey, I am witnessing the survival of a strangled nation, parading triumphant to see the earth turn their country towards the sun once more.

One Quetzal Coin, about 15 Cents, with the date of the 1996 Peace Agreement proudly stamped on the bottom.

The past month, we have learned an exponential amount about how Centro Educativo Monte Cristo (or CEMOC) operates.

(The courtyard of CEMOC).

In order to share this with you all, I feel that I must first explain the context in which they are operating, and then, what the center is doing to alleviate chronic poverty, and lastly, how Eric and I are attempting to contribute to their mission.  In order to do this, I can’t fit all the information into one blog post… So here’s part one:

To start, I want to mention the complex recent history Guatemala experienced starting with the armed conflict that rattled all of Guatemala beginning in the 1950’s through the late 1990’s. It is a deeply complicated situation that I will try to sum up quickly and fairly. Essentially, during the Cold War era, the United States backed a coup of the Guatemalan government out of fear that the agrarian policies of the President Arbenz were the signs of a pro-communist government.

From a hindsight perspective, the agrarian policies of the 1950’s were not really communist at all, but instead a democratic government trying to allow poor Mayan subsistence farmers to have access to capital in order to own their own land. In the past, these farmers worked within a feudalistic system, which did not support the growth of the overall Guatemalan economy.

After the government coup in 1954, the Guatemalan military came to power for decades, and waged a “civil war against communist guerillas” in the highlands of Guatemala, the home of many indigenous Mayan communities. The army entered these communities and raped, pillaged, and massacred many Indian villages without cause.

Currently, I am reading “I, Rigoberta Menchu,” an autobiographical account of a young Mayan women and her struggle with poverty, land rights, and oppression during the height of the armed conflict. Her story is influential because most Mayans grow up knowing only their local language and are unable to communicate with other Mayans or Spanish-speakers. There is tremendous beauty in these languages that have been passed down for hundreds of years, but it is limiting for communication with the outside world.

In her book, Rigoberta discusses working on plantations for less than a penny a day, watching her little brother die of malnutrition, as well as the rich traditions of Mayan culture. Centuries of oppression for the Mayans of Guatemala have created deep distrust of outsiders, plus skepticism towards new ways of thinking.

The village of Monte Cristo is similar in many respects to the village Rigobeta grew up in. There are about 100 people that live here, and the majority of adults only speak their native language, Kaqchikel. This is the context in which CEMOC is working.

Disturbance

When the earth is disturbed
The bees will know it
And so will the hornets
The trees will know it.

When peace is disturbed
The doves will cry damned
And so will the lambs
Cry out.

When beauty is disturbed
The mountains will roar
The valleys torn asunder
Will send the rivers to shore.

When innocence is disturbed
The children will listen
Mother locks the door and Father kills the engine
Then stop the pistons.

When the wolf descends the crag
And snaps the branches
Lightfooted, swift, hungry, commanding
Everything goes underground, unless found

When justice is disturbed
The soul comes awake
And starts the fire
And causes the quake
And causes the tremble of the wolf
And causes the fear of the disturber
And causes the doors to fling open
And causes the pistons to turnover
The rivers rush back
The bees and hornets attack
The doves uncry
The branches unsnap
Mother and Father yell
And so do the children
Until peace, beauty, innocence, and justice
Return triumphant, indamnable, ungilded

Nest, 10 feet from my house

Volcano & Clouds, 20 feet from my house

Girl from Village Chel, 8 hours from my house

          After only six easy hours of travel, Hilary and I breezed through the Currency Exchange Stand, Customs, and retrieved all of our undamaged luggage.  We stepped outside the airport to face the moment we had been fearing- finding our ride.  Inside the gated waiting area, Hilary and I stood with all of our earthly belongings, four suitcases and two backpacks, looking like Guatemala´s most un-Guatemalan imports.  We stared at the sea of mocha faces and black hair, unable to distinguish between any except one.  Fredy was scheduled to pick us up, but our correspondence was only one email and the last time I saw him was two years prior.  I began resenting the concept of Latin-American Time and resolved that we might be waiting at least a few hours for our friend.  I started walking to the other end of the waiting area; Hilary asked “Eric, do you see him?” “Nope.” I popped up on the balls of my feet, trying to use my height to my advantage.  “Eric, do you see him?” “Nope.”  I looked at my bags, nervous and consternated, feeling numbingly vulnerable.  “Eric-“ I interrupted “Nope.”  Hilary yelled “Eric, come on!” as she scurried away from me, luggage in tow.  I looked past her hurried shoulder to see the only Guatemalan face I knew; two minutes after exiting the airport doors, we were safe in our new home. 

                Experiencing Guatemala for the first time is overwhelming for an American.  I stepped off the plane for the first time in 2010; I was 17 years old.  Even now, in my 3^rd visit almost four years later, the differences between the two countries are a blend of excruciating and enveloping.  They are point blank and therapy.  I can´t imagine myself anywhere else. 

                Guatemala City welcomes visitors with lungfulls of car exhaust and a system of traffic incomprehensible for a Southeastern native.  After accepting one´s fate to inhaling the city´s toxic air, supplied without discrimination from an open window or the A/C vent, one will without doubt begin to look towards the bustling businesses alongside the road and ask themselves “How many car repair shops can possibly coexist in a square mile?”  The answer to that question, much the same as the subsequent “How many people can fit in one bus?” seems to be without limitation.

                As Fredy drove outside the city limits and up the mountainside, the images of extreme poverty returned.  I was reminded of how much strength and work ethic it requires to be poor.  I remembered the systems of utter destitution required to prop up modern economies.  I was freshly invigorated with a sense of why I came in the first place- to let go of the strength in my possessions and learn the genius of poverty.

The reason this update is coming so late is because my life has been extremely busy. I truly feel like a part of the team here at Fundación Comunidad Viva and I wouldn’t change my hectic schedule for anything. It’s incredible that I’ve been given so much responsibility as a mere (gringa) volunteer. I’m getting to see first-hand how a nonprofit should work. FCV isn’t afraid to change, evolve, take risks, and do something different every now and again.

We took one of those risks a few Sundays ago.

The whole process of starting a nonprofit in the downtown area is complex, to say the least, but the only starting place is to learn the needs of the community first rather than starting to develop programs in a neighborhood without a solid understanding of the people who live there. One of those needs in downtown Bogotá rests in the homeless population. So we made it our goal to get to know as many homeless people as we could–with the help of almost 100 sandwiches, steaming hot agaupanela, and a guitar.

It was a beautiful night full of conversations, singing, and sharing meals with countless people we encountered on the street. Never did I feel in danger (it did help that there were about 12 of us in the group), but rather a deeper understanding of the community here in downtown Bogotá.

Cooking up 2 huge vats of agaupanela

Getting to work on the sandwiches

Aaand having some fun at the same time 🙂

pacho

The work in Pacho continues. So far, we’ve had 4 movie nights (cine foros) and 2 English class! Basically, we get to spend the whole day with the youth of Pacho, which is so cool. This past Saturday after we finished the English class, a few of the youth stuck around to chat and we wound up hanging out and working on their homework for the next hour before the cine foro started. Two years ago, I never would have thought I could lead a discussion in Spanish about a movie, and while it’s never easy facilitating the conversation, I’m always so amazed when people actually understand what I’m saying. And I praise God for my partner in crime, Marina, who is another volunteer serving with the foundation, and makes the the trip to Pacho with me every week. In the last few cine foros, we watched Slumdog Millionaire, Argo, Source Code, and are planning to watch Freedom Writers this Saturday.

Cine Foro! (it’s hard to get a good photo in the dark)

tutoring

Tutoring continues to be some of my favorite parts of the week. We now have a good group of about 15 that come every Tuesday and Thursday. We’ve even started to play more games as a reward for working so hard on homework and we are going to take the kids on a field trip to a science museum later in the month! Here’s a little video from last Tuesday:

monserrate

Maybe one of the reasons this past week tired me out so much is because I climbed 2 miles of stairs to reach the top of Monserrate, one of the highest points in Bogotá. I’ve already been up there twice during the time I’ve spent in Colombia, but I’ve always taken the cable car. Hiking Monserrate was definitely a different experience. And totally worth it. While many people make the hike barefoot as a sort of pilgrimage to the church at the top of the mountain, my friends and I opted to do it with shoes. Two hours of climbing endless steps and we had reached the top. Definitely one of my favorite experiences so far in Bogotá!

Halfway there...

We made it!