Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Last Day
Hard to believe, the three weeks will be over tomorrow, on Thursday, June 3. Keeci and I fly out of Guatemala City at 6:35 a.m., if all goes as planned. It's an hour-plus drive, need to be there when the airport opens at 5, have to leave the mission house at 3 or so. Oh, man, why even try to sleep? We're the only ones leaving at that hour, so we'll drive the trusty rental pickup and drop it off. I hope the traffic is light at that hour. What am I thinking, the traffic is never light around here.
A couple of things that Ryan told us yesterday: the volcano that "blew" last week was the one we climbed two Sundays ago, and it blew in the very spot where we walked and observed the lava up close. Wow, that's scary, but cool (in a hot sort of way). There's something exciting about danger, isn't there?
The other sad note is the one about the mud slides after the hurricane last week. The estimated loss of life grows every day, now over 1,000. Several of those were in a village that we visited that very evening, last Saturday. Our group had worked on houses in the village of El Rajon that morning, in a driving rain storm. It was about as miserable as I have ever been, trying to dig post holes and drive nails while soaked to the bone and shivering in the midst of a 16-inch rain. Just walking around was treacherous and dangerous, the paths up and down the hills out there are mostly just dirt and mud. At the time, we had no idea how serious the storm was. Did you see pictures of that sink hole in Guatemala City that swallowed an apartment building?
After we left El Rajon, we had one other activity that day, and that was a food/clothing distribution at a small, poorer village about an hour away from Chimaltenango, where we stay. As soon as we got on the road to that little village (can't remember the name), we started seeing the mud slides onto the highway. We worked our way around several of them, through stop-and-go traffic, and a continued downpour. We just kept going, what were we thinking? The little village was way back through some smaller roads, down some steep inclines. Still the rain and the mud washing across the road. When we got to the distribution site (a church) a hundred families were huddled up to get out of the rain on porches and nearby overhangs. No electricity, and darkness/gloom were setting in. I was still shivering.
We passed out the food and shoes, hugged some babies and grandmothers, and sent the Guatemalans on their way in the rain, some with mile-long walks and little rain protection. We left in our vans, drove through some deep, raging water, and by the grace of God (always) made it back to our abode, again snaking our way through mud on the road.
Apparently, that little village where we passed out the food was devasted. Over 20 people there died that night, don't know if any of them were those we had met and fed. Two little boys were found buried in mud. We're told that the food we delivered that night is helping sustain the village in the aftermath, I want to believe that is true. We did another food distribution last night (Tuesday) in another village where there was less damage, we diverted some of that food to the first village, the one with all the damage and loss of life. We're not sure how it will get there, you still can't drive back there because of the road closings, but hopefully, our food will find it's way to people who desperately need it.
Keeci and I have a couple of things we must do before we leave here. One, we must go again and see the woman whose father is American, and she's never met him. She became our friend, we took her out for a meal at the local mall one evening, it was the first time she'd eaten such a meal in months (we "accidentally" ordered a spare meal, and sent it home with her for lunch the next day, and we did a quick run through the grocery store, too). We promised her we would come back again, just to say goodbye, and also to fix a small latch on the new house we built for her. It takes a screwdriver to fix the latch, and she doesn't own one (I'm sure I have over a hundred of them in my garage).
We also will have one last "fix" of Guatemalan ice cream before we leave. Believe it or not, they have really good ice cream here, cheap, and while we were on our own last week, we started ranking the little ice cream shops, sort of like my "tenderloin tour" group at work, this was the "Guatemalan ice cream tour." Strange, but true. Sarita is the most common of those stands, in a slightly more middle class town like Chimaltenango (200,000 people, Des Moines-size), it seems like there is a Sarita stand on every other corner. They make a great waffle cone dipped in chocolate, w/nuts. But, Keeci likes Pops even better, we argue about it. Maybe strange that in a place that knows such poverty, ice cream is common and good.
I'm sorry I'm not going to get the goat thing done on this trip. This week has been too hectic with the storms and all, I just don't have time to break away from the work teams to go on a hunt for milk goats. And there are at least 3 places I wanted to go have a look. I'm a little upset with myself, 3 whole weeks here, and I didn't get that part done. I have the money that people gave to me to buy goats, I guess I'll start another Guatemala fund, the goat fund, for next year and schedule some specific time for it. If any of you reading this gave me money for a milk goat, I hope that plan is satisfactory.
Not all of you reading this know this, but some of my incredible friends back home got together at my place sometime last weekend and worked over the yard and the flower beds, and I think my bonfire pit in the back yard, and who knows what else. I've seen the pix on FB, and it brought me to tears. (I am a little fragile right now, there will be more tears today, I expect.) After they worked, these friends apparently had a cookout/party in the house. It looked so cool to see all of that in pictures (thanks Keeci's mom!). But so strange to see it and I'm not in the pictures. Best party ever at my house, and I wasn't even there. Not fair! We'll have a repeat soon, and this time I'm inviting myself.
Linda and Marc, my good friends and relatively new neighbors, have been looking after Sadie and the cats in my absence. I'm indebted. Will they ever leave for 3 weeks so I can pay them back? (Not that I wish for it.) Thanks, Linda!
I'll be at home soon, and it's time to be there, can't wait to talk to you from 11335 Nevada Street. Two big projects to think about as soon as I get home: finish the cook book, help Wes and Monica get headed for CA. It'll be really good to work on both.
Maybe I'll post a couple pictures this morning, but otherwise, this'll be my last post from this trip. Adios, amigo!
A couple of things that Ryan told us yesterday: the volcano that "blew" last week was the one we climbed two Sundays ago, and it blew in the very spot where we walked and observed the lava up close. Wow, that's scary, but cool (in a hot sort of way). There's something exciting about danger, isn't there?
The other sad note is the one about the mud slides after the hurricane last week. The estimated loss of life grows every day, now over 1,000. Several of those were in a village that we visited that very evening, last Saturday. Our group had worked on houses in the village of El Rajon that morning, in a driving rain storm. It was about as miserable as I have ever been, trying to dig post holes and drive nails while soaked to the bone and shivering in the midst of a 16-inch rain. Just walking around was treacherous and dangerous, the paths up and down the hills out there are mostly just dirt and mud. At the time, we had no idea how serious the storm was. Did you see pictures of that sink hole in Guatemala City that swallowed an apartment building?
After we left El Rajon, we had one other activity that day, and that was a food/clothing distribution at a small, poorer village about an hour away from Chimaltenango, where we stay. As soon as we got on the road to that little village (can't remember the name), we started seeing the mud slides onto the highway. We worked our way around several of them, through stop-and-go traffic, and a continued downpour. We just kept going, what were we thinking? The little village was way back through some smaller roads, down some steep inclines. Still the rain and the mud washing across the road. When we got to the distribution site (a church) a hundred families were huddled up to get out of the rain on porches and nearby overhangs. No electricity, and darkness/gloom were setting in. I was still shivering.
We passed out the food and shoes, hugged some babies and grandmothers, and sent the Guatemalans on their way in the rain, some with mile-long walks and little rain protection. We left in our vans, drove through some deep, raging water, and by the grace of God (always) made it back to our abode, again snaking our way through mud on the road.
Apparently, that little village where we passed out the food was devasted. Over 20 people there died that night, don't know if any of them were those we had met and fed. Two little boys were found buried in mud. We're told that the food we delivered that night is helping sustain the village in the aftermath, I want to believe that is true. We did another food distribution last night (Tuesday) in another village where there was less damage, we diverted some of that food to the first village, the one with all the damage and loss of life. We're not sure how it will get there, you still can't drive back there because of the road closings, but hopefully, our food will find it's way to people who desperately need it.
Keeci and I have a couple of things we must do before we leave here. One, we must go again and see the woman whose father is American, and she's never met him. She became our friend, we took her out for a meal at the local mall one evening, it was the first time she'd eaten such a meal in months (we "accidentally" ordered a spare meal, and sent it home with her for lunch the next day, and we did a quick run through the grocery store, too). We promised her we would come back again, just to say goodbye, and also to fix a small latch on the new house we built for her. It takes a screwdriver to fix the latch, and she doesn't own one (I'm sure I have over a hundred of them in my garage).
We also will have one last "fix" of Guatemalan ice cream before we leave. Believe it or not, they have really good ice cream here, cheap, and while we were on our own last week, we started ranking the little ice cream shops, sort of like my "tenderloin tour" group at work, this was the "Guatemalan ice cream tour." Strange, but true. Sarita is the most common of those stands, in a slightly more middle class town like Chimaltenango (200,000 people, Des Moines-size), it seems like there is a Sarita stand on every other corner. They make a great waffle cone dipped in chocolate, w/nuts. But, Keeci likes Pops even better, we argue about it. Maybe strange that in a place that knows such poverty, ice cream is common and good.
I'm sorry I'm not going to get the goat thing done on this trip. This week has been too hectic with the storms and all, I just don't have time to break away from the work teams to go on a hunt for milk goats. And there are at least 3 places I wanted to go have a look. I'm a little upset with myself, 3 whole weeks here, and I didn't get that part done. I have the money that people gave to me to buy goats, I guess I'll start another Guatemala fund, the goat fund, for next year and schedule some specific time for it. If any of you reading this gave me money for a milk goat, I hope that plan is satisfactory.
Not all of you reading this know this, but some of my incredible friends back home got together at my place sometime last weekend and worked over the yard and the flower beds, and I think my bonfire pit in the back yard, and who knows what else. I've seen the pix on FB, and it brought me to tears. (I am a little fragile right now, there will be more tears today, I expect.) After they worked, these friends apparently had a cookout/party in the house. It looked so cool to see all of that in pictures (thanks Keeci's mom!). But so strange to see it and I'm not in the pictures. Best party ever at my house, and I wasn't even there. Not fair! We'll have a repeat soon, and this time I'm inviting myself.
Linda and Marc, my good friends and relatively new neighbors, have been looking after Sadie and the cats in my absence. I'm indebted. Will they ever leave for 3 weeks so I can pay them back? (Not that I wish for it.) Thanks, Linda!
I'll be at home soon, and it's time to be there, can't wait to talk to you from 11335 Nevada Street. Two big projects to think about as soon as I get home: finish the cook book, help Wes and Monica get headed for CA. It'll be really good to work on both.
Maybe I'll post a couple pictures this morning, but otherwise, this'll be my last post from this trip. Adios, amigo!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Technology Bugs
Sorry I haven't posted for a couple of days. My goal was every day, something new. But, our Internet connectivity has been out most of the time since Sunday. Not sure why.
We're fine here, no lingering damage from all the natural disasters. Today was a beautiful day. We're trying to catch up on our building, 18 houses in El Teron, and it's touch-and-go if we will make it on Wednesday, but we're going to give it a try. I've been mostly putting the fronts on houses, the final step. Did 5 more today, but 11 to go tomorrow. Keeci and I got to be on the same work team today for the first time this week, and we had fun with our work mates. Hope we get the same crew tomorrow.
There are "rumors" our flight will not leave here on Thursday, we'll be delayed a day or two. Anyone able to get news about that? News is hard to come by around here.
I have some great pictures of Keeci's graduation ceremony, from Sunday morning. If connectivity keeps up tonight, I'll try to post. Otherwise, it will wait until we get home. Also, the news about my new machete will wait. And my black cowboy hat, it is much nicer than Coulter's.
What a trip this has been! I've got stories to tell, hope you're all ready to listen when I get home!
We're fine here, no lingering damage from all the natural disasters. Today was a beautiful day. We're trying to catch up on our building, 18 houses in El Teron, and it's touch-and-go if we will make it on Wednesday, but we're going to give it a try. I've been mostly putting the fronts on houses, the final step. Did 5 more today, but 11 to go tomorrow. Keeci and I got to be on the same work team today for the first time this week, and we had fun with our work mates. Hope we get the same crew tomorrow.
There are "rumors" our flight will not leave here on Thursday, we'll be delayed a day or two. Anyone able to get news about that? News is hard to come by around here.
I have some great pictures of Keeci's graduation ceremony, from Sunday morning. If connectivity keeps up tonight, I'll try to post. Otherwise, it will wait until we get home. Also, the news about my new machete will wait. And my black cowboy hat, it is much nicer than Coulter's.
What a trip this has been! I've got stories to tell, hope you're all ready to listen when I get home!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
A Saturday to Remember
Our group is all fine here in Guatemala, the mission team from Memphis, and the two Iowans who have joined them. Maybe you've heard, we've experienced several of nature's worst natural disasters over just the last couple of days - volcano, earthquake, now a tropical storm. The worst is the tropical storm. It's not the winds here where we are, 60 miles or so inland and up in the mountains. It's just the torrential rain. It rained all day Thursday, that night, off and on Friday, all that night, and non-stop on Saturday. A hard rain most of the time. I just read a report that said 10-20 inches, with isolated spots of 30 inches. Huh, that's exactly where we are, an isolated spot. I left my rain guage in Iowa, so I don't know exactly, but if I had to guess, it "feels" like 15 inches of rain here in the last 2-3 days, more than I've ever experienced in one event.
We're up on a hillside here, nestled among coffee trees on a farm, maybe 400 feet above the valley, so we are not going to flood at the mission house. Our food pantry is stocked. We even have 4 ministers/pastors who are now stranded with us, can't fly home because the airport in Guatemala City is still closed, so we have preachers in excess for Sunday morning church. I like them all, but I hope Ryan is called to speak. He inspires me with his practicality on life, and, well, he's my nephew.
Saturday was another incredible day. We debated not going to the village to build houses, due to the rain. The problem is, we commited to building 18 houses this week. When we make a committment to build a house, the Guatemalan family tears down the old house of corn stalks and cardboard to make way for the metal house and cement floor that we will build. Then the family moves into something even more makeshift/temporary as they wait on us. We've got 18 families in that situation, and it's a monsoon. We can't really tell them, "Oh, the weather turned bad, sorry." Or, "We changed our mind, we're only going to build 12 houses, sorry." We promised, now we have to deliver. Saturday, we went out in the rain to build.
Ryan made my team on Saturday the "J" team, just for the fun of it: Jane, JJ, Jason, 2 Jennifers, Jimmy, and Gene (I know, I'm the misfit). Vehicles couldn't get us to the build sites, we had to walk, first down a long hill, then up an even longer hill. Then up a mud path where 3 Guatemalan families looked at us in near disbelief: "You're going to work in this?" Yep, and we did. Our Team J, along with Renae, the Guatemalan husband, proved to be a formidable group of hard workers. We sloshed through mud to get one house "tinned" with sides and roof. But the road to get to our work location was experiencing mud slides, and if we were going to get off the mountain on Saturday, we had to leave by noon. I was wearing a borrowed rain jacket, but it didn't help much and I was soaked and chilled to the bone, couldn't stop shivering. Keeci, who was on another team in a different location, told me later she was equally as cold. Funny, isn't it, that the 2 Iowans were the ones who felt the coldest.
I was going to tell you about mud slides here, how cheap road construction leads to such vulnerability. Think I'll make it brief. When you are poor, you do everything the cheap way: feed your livestock, build your houses, construct your roads. You have no choice. So everywhere you go here, when it rains this much, mud slides happen because the roadside cliffs are cut too steep, and not barricaded in any way.
After working in the village Saturday morning, we came back to the mission house to no electricity. No water, and I was cold and muddy. On Saturday afternoon, we did a food distribution at a remote church, enough food staples to last a family a month, $6, and clothing for kids. Still in a rainstorm. What a trip that was, but I'll save the details.
That's because I want to tell you something about Keeci Goodman this morning. Keeci is my travel mate from Iowa, the daughter of my good friends Dwight and Connie. Dwight and I have been elders together at our church, the Evergreen Church of Christ on the southeast side of Des Moines. And Connie is some kind of a special friend, she has been there to share so much of my last year. All 5 of their kids are great young people, but I have to say that Keeci had a special place with Jan. When they moved to Iowa a few years ago, Jan first figured out her name was Keeci, not Casey or Cassie or something else that would be more normal, but Keeci. And the name was so special, from her grandmother, that she didn't need another middle name, Keeci was enough.
Keeci turned 18 a couple months ago, and today, Sunday, May 30, 2010, Keeci is graduating from Valley High School in West Des Moines, Iowa, USA. She won't be there to walk across the stage in West Des Moines, because she's here with me, with us, in Chimaltenango, Guatemala. She chose it that way, she wanted to come here, to skip her last 3 weeks of high school, to skip the graduation ceremony, because she wanted to do this thing. She's going to be a Spanish major in the fall, and this is going to help here in that. She had heard me talk about Guatemala, and she wanted to see it and experience it herself. So she went to her high school teachers and administrators and talked them into letting her out of school early, if she did the classwork ahead of time, so she could come here. I just about can't believe she did that! And, that her folks trusted me enough to let her!
Well, we've experienced the place, together, and it's been special. I couldn't have done this trip without her, with my nonexistent Spanish skills. She tells people her Spanish is "un poquito" but it's much more than that. She got us out of a couple dozen places when we were lost, mostly by talking to gas station attendants. She got me through several interviews last week when I was helpless. She helped me talk to farmers in Zaragoza, even though farming is not in her background; she learned the difference between a 10-glass goat and a 25-glass goat as I learned it. She "interpreted" me through lunches at the seminary cafeteria with many, many students. They give everyone nicknames there. Me, they called pumpkin, don't know why. Keeci, they called "basitos". You'll have to look it up, I'm not sure I want her mom to know.
But don't worry, Connie, she is well looked after here. As those Guatemalan kids that first week loved her, the people in this group are loving Keeci, too, it's like she has 20 substitute moms. They have a little graduation ceremony planned for her today, it's going to be fun, Ryan will call her name and award the diploma. I'll get pictures.
It's Memorial Day, too. I know that's really on Monday, but it feels like it's today, for some reason. I'm glad Keeci is with me on Memorial Day, she'll be thinking about what I'm thinking about.
Sorry to get all emotional on you, but it's Sunday morning, and that's what I do. Adios again.
We're up on a hillside here, nestled among coffee trees on a farm, maybe 400 feet above the valley, so we are not going to flood at the mission house. Our food pantry is stocked. We even have 4 ministers/pastors who are now stranded with us, can't fly home because the airport in Guatemala City is still closed, so we have preachers in excess for Sunday morning church. I like them all, but I hope Ryan is called to speak. He inspires me with his practicality on life, and, well, he's my nephew.
Saturday was another incredible day. We debated not going to the village to build houses, due to the rain. The problem is, we commited to building 18 houses this week. When we make a committment to build a house, the Guatemalan family tears down the old house of corn stalks and cardboard to make way for the metal house and cement floor that we will build. Then the family moves into something even more makeshift/temporary as they wait on us. We've got 18 families in that situation, and it's a monsoon. We can't really tell them, "Oh, the weather turned bad, sorry." Or, "We changed our mind, we're only going to build 12 houses, sorry." We promised, now we have to deliver. Saturday, we went out in the rain to build.
Ryan made my team on Saturday the "J" team, just for the fun of it: Jane, JJ, Jason, 2 Jennifers, Jimmy, and Gene (I know, I'm the misfit). Vehicles couldn't get us to the build sites, we had to walk, first down a long hill, then up an even longer hill. Then up a mud path where 3 Guatemalan families looked at us in near disbelief: "You're going to work in this?" Yep, and we did. Our Team J, along with Renae, the Guatemalan husband, proved to be a formidable group of hard workers. We sloshed through mud to get one house "tinned" with sides and roof. But the road to get to our work location was experiencing mud slides, and if we were going to get off the mountain on Saturday, we had to leave by noon. I was wearing a borrowed rain jacket, but it didn't help much and I was soaked and chilled to the bone, couldn't stop shivering. Keeci, who was on another team in a different location, told me later she was equally as cold. Funny, isn't it, that the 2 Iowans were the ones who felt the coldest.
I was going to tell you about mud slides here, how cheap road construction leads to such vulnerability. Think I'll make it brief. When you are poor, you do everything the cheap way: feed your livestock, build your houses, construct your roads. You have no choice. So everywhere you go here, when it rains this much, mud slides happen because the roadside cliffs are cut too steep, and not barricaded in any way.
After working in the village Saturday morning, we came back to the mission house to no electricity. No water, and I was cold and muddy. On Saturday afternoon, we did a food distribution at a remote church, enough food staples to last a family a month, $6, and clothing for kids. Still in a rainstorm. What a trip that was, but I'll save the details.
That's because I want to tell you something about Keeci Goodman this morning. Keeci is my travel mate from Iowa, the daughter of my good friends Dwight and Connie. Dwight and I have been elders together at our church, the Evergreen Church of Christ on the southeast side of Des Moines. And Connie is some kind of a special friend, she has been there to share so much of my last year. All 5 of their kids are great young people, but I have to say that Keeci had a special place with Jan. When they moved to Iowa a few years ago, Jan first figured out her name was Keeci, not Casey or Cassie or something else that would be more normal, but Keeci. And the name was so special, from her grandmother, that she didn't need another middle name, Keeci was enough.
Keeci turned 18 a couple months ago, and today, Sunday, May 30, 2010, Keeci is graduating from Valley High School in West Des Moines, Iowa, USA. She won't be there to walk across the stage in West Des Moines, because she's here with me, with us, in Chimaltenango, Guatemala. She chose it that way, she wanted to come here, to skip her last 3 weeks of high school, to skip the graduation ceremony, because she wanted to do this thing. She's going to be a Spanish major in the fall, and this is going to help here in that. She had heard me talk about Guatemala, and she wanted to see it and experience it herself. So she went to her high school teachers and administrators and talked them into letting her out of school early, if she did the classwork ahead of time, so she could come here. I just about can't believe she did that! And, that her folks trusted me enough to let her!
Well, we've experienced the place, together, and it's been special. I couldn't have done this trip without her, with my nonexistent Spanish skills. She tells people her Spanish is "un poquito" but it's much more than that. She got us out of a couple dozen places when we were lost, mostly by talking to gas station attendants. She got me through several interviews last week when I was helpless. She helped me talk to farmers in Zaragoza, even though farming is not in her background; she learned the difference between a 10-glass goat and a 25-glass goat as I learned it. She "interpreted" me through lunches at the seminary cafeteria with many, many students. They give everyone nicknames there. Me, they called pumpkin, don't know why. Keeci, they called "basitos". You'll have to look it up, I'm not sure I want her mom to know.
But don't worry, Connie, she is well looked after here. As those Guatemalan kids that first week loved her, the people in this group are loving Keeci, too, it's like she has 20 substitute moms. They have a little graduation ceremony planned for her today, it's going to be fun, Ryan will call her name and award the diploma. I'll get pictures.
It's Memorial Day, too. I know that's really on Monday, but it feels like it's today, for some reason. I'm glad Keeci is with me on Memorial Day, she'll be thinking about what I'm thinking about.
Sorry to get all emotional on you, but it's Sunday morning, and that's what I do. Adios again.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Rambles
We worked in a remote mountainside village on Friday, building the tin-sided houses. Didn't really do anything new, so no stories to report about farms or schools or goats. There is volcano news, so I'll just ramble on a little (hah, that's all I ever do!) about it and other stuff that is happening with this team.
We're all wondering about the volcano. Mt. Pecaya, the same one we climbed 2 Sundays ago, had a bigger eruption on Thursday, and put 3 inches of ash on parts of Guatemala City. We're 50 miles or so west of there, and see no evidence of the ash. It's been rainy/overcast here for the last few days, so we can't see much of any mountains. The ash has closed the airport. There are 2 church ministers here with Ryan's team who were supposed to fly home to the states today, Saturday, but their flights are canceled. They hope to catch a flight on Sunday now. I'm supposed to fly home next Thursday, surely the airport will be open by then. Stranded by a volcano, has that ever happened to anybody you know?
Every time I see something around here where I say, "That's the poorest . . . the steepest . . . the roughest . . . the least accessible . . . the dirtiest . . . " well, then I see a place that feels poorer, on a hillside that is steeper, up a road that has more rocks and potholes, to a village that is more remote, in a ravine that looks more like a landfill, than anything before. Such is the case in the village we are building homes this week. I have no idea how to get there, and I've tried hard to memorize the route. The hills are the steepest that I have driven or walked. The poverty is just intense. And to top all of that, it rained off and on Friday, making the people and the place feel even more forlorn and forgotten.
The new team from Memphis is amazing. All 45 of us sloshed through the mud and rain and gloom and kept working, digging holes, pounding nails, leveling dirt and mud, without a single complaint that I heard. Ryan had me in charge (sort of) of a group of 11, and we got 2 houses finished to the point of ready to pour the cement floors, and a third house to the point of putting on the tin sides. Amazing workers with me, young and old, male and female, all with interesting backgrounds and personalities.
The first day of a new team is always the hardest. There are no orphanage visits or Bible programs for kids, we all just build on that first day, to get to know the village, and to experience the construction. 11 people on a construction team is too many for these houses. People are tripping over each other trying to find a job, but it's a good way to get to know your new teammates, and everybody gets to do a little hammering. Now on the second day (Saturday) we'll break down into smaller teams of 5 or 6, work a little harder, but probably get more done because we now have our bearings, and each of us will have a specific job. Fewer people standing around looking for a job. It just works better.
On Friday, my team was working on a home, and the Guatemalan family was there working with us most of the day. The wife was 45 years old (can't remember her name) and had 15 grandkids, most of whom were under her feet (and ours) all day. We didn't mind, they were cute and fun kids. She also had a little basket of ear corn sitting there on her porch, some yellow, some blue, some white, some mixed. I told her I was a corn farmer back in Iowa (not exactly a lie, I have grown sweet corn in the past) and asked if I could buy a couple of those ears to take home. It was actually for my brother, he wants to try to grow some of the 15-foot-tall corn. The woman told me she wouldn't sell it too me, but she would GIVE me 2 better ears that she had inside a storeroom. She went and got it. We argued about pay or no-pay, and finally I gave in and accepted her gift. That made her very happy. Denny will be happy when I get it home, if I get it home.
One more unrelated story that I don't think I've told you about. We built a house for a woman last week, a 40-year-old single woman who lost all of her money and possessions to a very bad and abusive husband (apparently, there are plenty of them here in Guatemala). As Keeci and I learned more about this woman last week, we discovered that her father is an American who was here in the Peace Corps in 1970. She was born after he went back to the States, and she has never met him. Long story short, she would like to know him now, and she has good reason to believe that he would like to know her, and in fact he has come here to try to find her without success (that's another story about people who have abused this woman). We've sent everything we know about her and her father to Keeci's family back in Iowa, and they are doing everything they can to try to make contact this week, while we are still here and can go see her again with any news. Would that be incredible, or what?
The coffee is on, wish you were all here to have a cup with me right now! If you're reading this, you're somebody I love! And if you're not reading this, that's fine, too (that's a joke, if you're not reading this, well . . . get it?) Adios!
We're all wondering about the volcano. Mt. Pecaya, the same one we climbed 2 Sundays ago, had a bigger eruption on Thursday, and put 3 inches of ash on parts of Guatemala City. We're 50 miles or so west of there, and see no evidence of the ash. It's been rainy/overcast here for the last few days, so we can't see much of any mountains. The ash has closed the airport. There are 2 church ministers here with Ryan's team who were supposed to fly home to the states today, Saturday, but their flights are canceled. They hope to catch a flight on Sunday now. I'm supposed to fly home next Thursday, surely the airport will be open by then. Stranded by a volcano, has that ever happened to anybody you know?
Every time I see something around here where I say, "That's the poorest . . . the steepest . . . the roughest . . . the least accessible . . . the dirtiest . . . " well, then I see a place that feels poorer, on a hillside that is steeper, up a road that has more rocks and potholes, to a village that is more remote, in a ravine that looks more like a landfill, than anything before. Such is the case in the village we are building homes this week. I have no idea how to get there, and I've tried hard to memorize the route. The hills are the steepest that I have driven or walked. The poverty is just intense. And to top all of that, it rained off and on Friday, making the people and the place feel even more forlorn and forgotten.
The new team from Memphis is amazing. All 45 of us sloshed through the mud and rain and gloom and kept working, digging holes, pounding nails, leveling dirt and mud, without a single complaint that I heard. Ryan had me in charge (sort of) of a group of 11, and we got 2 houses finished to the point of ready to pour the cement floors, and a third house to the point of putting on the tin sides. Amazing workers with me, young and old, male and female, all with interesting backgrounds and personalities.
The first day of a new team is always the hardest. There are no orphanage visits or Bible programs for kids, we all just build on that first day, to get to know the village, and to experience the construction. 11 people on a construction team is too many for these houses. People are tripping over each other trying to find a job, but it's a good way to get to know your new teammates, and everybody gets to do a little hammering. Now on the second day (Saturday) we'll break down into smaller teams of 5 or 6, work a little harder, but probably get more done because we now have our bearings, and each of us will have a specific job. Fewer people standing around looking for a job. It just works better.
On Friday, my team was working on a home, and the Guatemalan family was there working with us most of the day. The wife was 45 years old (can't remember her name) and had 15 grandkids, most of whom were under her feet (and ours) all day. We didn't mind, they were cute and fun kids. She also had a little basket of ear corn sitting there on her porch, some yellow, some blue, some white, some mixed. I told her I was a corn farmer back in Iowa (not exactly a lie, I have grown sweet corn in the past) and asked if I could buy a couple of those ears to take home. It was actually for my brother, he wants to try to grow some of the 15-foot-tall corn. The woman told me she wouldn't sell it too me, but she would GIVE me 2 better ears that she had inside a storeroom. She went and got it. We argued about pay or no-pay, and finally I gave in and accepted her gift. That made her very happy. Denny will be happy when I get it home, if I get it home.
One more unrelated story that I don't think I've told you about. We built a house for a woman last week, a 40-year-old single woman who lost all of her money and possessions to a very bad and abusive husband (apparently, there are plenty of them here in Guatemala). As Keeci and I learned more about this woman last week, we discovered that her father is an American who was here in the Peace Corps in 1970. She was born after he went back to the States, and she has never met him. Long story short, she would like to know him now, and she has good reason to believe that he would like to know her, and in fact he has come here to try to find her without success (that's another story about people who have abused this woman). We've sent everything we know about her and her father to Keeci's family back in Iowa, and they are doing everything they can to try to make contact this week, while we are still here and can go see her again with any news. Would that be incredible, or what?
The coffee is on, wish you were all here to have a cup with me right now! If you're reading this, you're somebody I love! And if you're not reading this, that's fine, too (that's a joke, if you're not reading this, well . . . get it?) Adios!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
