Pentecost

A year ago by the world calendar, I had my last Sunday serving on staff at College Place Presbyterian.  

The next day, I left Walla Walla for a long road trip, a ton of fun (and sometimes terrifying) adventures, life lessons, deep friendships, a great camp experience with Harbor Covenant, a lot of time boating with great people in the Harbor, little trips around the Pacific Northwest, weddings of good friends, and then the adventures and lessons continued in Guatemala.  That last Sunday was an amazing day - leaving the church feeling so blessed and supported on my upcoming adventures.  It was also a hard day... leaving is always hard and I knew that the church and community would inevitably change during the 15 months I was gone.

By the church calendar, it will be a year since I left the church on June 12.  My last day at the church was Pentecost - the historic day that symbolizes and celebrates the birth of the new church with the marking of the Spirit coming in during a meeting of the apostles.  Every year, PC(USA) takes a Pentecost offering to support young adult and children's programs (like mine!).  This year's theme is So I Send You based upon John 20:21.  The YAVs were asked to write something about what this theme means to us as we are in various parts of the world for them to use for advertising.  This is what I wrote...

I had the wonderful and unique opportunity for my last Sunday before my YAV year to fall on Pentecost.  My church has a wonderful Pentecost tradition of sending off red and white balloons with notes quoting the power of God and inviting those who receive these balloons to join us in community by sending notes about themselves and their stories on the pieces of paper tied to the balloons.

As I watched the balloons being released from the hands of the children I have spent four years working with and flying into the air, I distinctly felt God calling me out to the world.  Just as the balloons floated into the air, with prayers blessing the people that encounter them, I felt myself free to leave knowing that there were prayers from people at home who loved me covering both myself and the people in Guatemala that I would come to know and love.

While I’ve been here in Guatemala, I have felt the powers of these prayers. I have felt loved by my friends back at home, reassured from occasional emails, and seen God working in me and the people with whom I live, work, and love.  I have learned more about myself in the last 5 months than I ever imagined, and I’m sure there is more to come.  

I, like the balloons, am a fragile being at the mercy of the will of God. Through my YAV year, I am learning to embrace that truth.  The truth that God’s will and God’s truths are the only solid things in my life that I can count on.  I am thrilled to see what else this year has to offer and feel incredibly blessed by the opportunity.

Thank you all for sending me a year ago (or in August if you live in Gig Harbor).
Thank you for your support through one of the most learning years of my life.
Thank you for your encouragement as I've faced unknown situations.
And most of all, thank you for your love!

Katharine

Washington has its mark here!

 Yep!  All of our apples are Washington Apples.  They're pretty small and usually 3 for 10Q  (3 for about $1.25) which is pretty pricey for produce here, but it's a bite of home!

 The Market is life here.  

There's a lot of life in the Market.

From men walking around with a box of live chickens yelling, "Pollo, Pollo" to 

Kids walking around selling plastic black bags, two for 1Q to

Women slicing off pieces of fruit and literally shoving the chunks in your face to eat to

Men slicing bloody dead animals

to Kids selling limes 10 for 1Q

to Women walking around buying, shopping, and bartering...

It is life.

The shoppers need the food

The venders need the business

We all need each other

That's what community really is.

Selling Toyota...

I saw a sign today that said, "Selling Toyota Pick-Up for quetzales (money) or terreno (land).  Call if interested." 

I like that type of business - a business based on trading commodities and belonging more than money.

It's nice to know that that type of business exists outside of Settlers of Catan and Pit =)

Just another weekend...

This morning, I was struck by the realization that what once was unusual or unnatural is now normal... since I have given a futile effort to my daily life blogs, I'll just tell you about a daily life weekend!  (it's naptime and I'm a bit bored so this is unashamedly wordy and photoy)...

Saturday:

Pickups (usually Toyotas) always with wood.

6am - Wake up because the sun's up and that's what you do!  (Also because a guy was supposed to come and help the abuelo cut lots of wood so we have enough to get the wood burning stove through rainy season)  Like any good Guatemalan, he didn't come, so I just had some quality time to read and wake up to the point where I felt conversational in Spanish.

6:45am - Feel equipped to have a conversation so I go out and start the coffee maker. While doing so, I check the water... We have some!  And the sun looks like it should come up , that means it's LAUNDRY DAY!  I learned last time the importance of planning ahead for Laundry Day so I put my clothes in a giant horsetroughish bucket and fill it with soap and water.  They now have time to soak in the cleanliness.

7:00am - Take the maiz to the molino so it can be ground and we can make tortillas.  To the shock of the aunt who owns the Molino, I do everything without help... bonus point!  Bring back the Maiz and some fresh squeezed Cow's milk that comes in an old rum bottle (I have so many stories about rum bottles...)

The Abuelo - My new best friend

7:30am - Sit down with Porfilio pequeño, Porfilio grande, Marie pequeño, and Marie grande for some moosh and corn flakes and corn coffee (as well as real coffee... Gracias, a Dios)

8:15am - Elly and the pequeños leave for work and school in Xela.  Abuelos and I stay at the table and as they finish eating (it's hard to eat when you have only a few teeth), we talk about how the world failed to end as predicted.  Then, they tell me that the atomic bombs are going to be what ends the world.  They proceeded to tell me a story about how in 1945 when the Hiroshima bomb was dropped, both of their families had a bunch of animals die and they didn't know why until they listened to the radio and heard that this really powerful atomic bomb was dropped on the other side of the ocean.  Now that's something I didn't learn in the history books!

8:30am - I go to the butcher and buy 10.75Q of chicken. That's half the chicken... for about $1.30. Half a bloody, once living, chicken.  It has bones, blood, and everything.  I'm getting over being a vegetarian very quickly.

9:30am - Begin doing laundry.  It takes no less than 2hours and I spend some time cursing myself for not doing any in the last two weeks because it takes so darn long!  But then, I remember that last weekend, when I would have had time, we had no water.  So, I get my iPod and become best friends with the Pilla as I take the clothes out of the horse trough, put them in the pilla, scrub them with the brush, and then dump bucket upon bucket on them trying to get the soap out.  At one point, the abuela came up and put a bunch of soap in the brush's home... when she came five minutes later, I was still working on getting the soap out of the same sweatshirt.  "Mucho jabon" (lots of soap), I say exasperated... "Bueno, entonces es limpio" (good - then it's clean), she responds.  Welp.  I'm weak.

The Pilla.  Right side is for dishes, left for laundry and teeth brushing.  The middle is sacred.  No dirt there!

11:30 - Finish laundry.  Finally.  Realize that it was one of the most therapeutic things I've ever done for myself.  2.5 hours of accomplishing tangible results while listening to music that gives me meaning to the thoughts I struggle with and an avenue to chat with God.
Also, at this time, I realize that it is 11:30.  Wow, I'm slow.  That was a long time of therapy... therapy is good.  Begin cleaning my room - a deep cleaning that includes moving everything I own on a quest to find the slugs that leave trails all over the place when i'm not looking.  Armed with salt and a broom, I don't find any... bummer.

Our wood-burning cooking stove

12:15 - Abuela asks me to help her heat up the Tamalitos.  We sit in the kitchen and chat as I sample the atole and make sure the tamalitos don't burn.  I also throw some plastic bags in the stove...  anything burns!

1:00 - Abuelo comes back from the fields and we eat some really tasty chow-mein consisting of the chicken I bought, whiskeil (a relative of the potato), corn, strange green things I don't recognize, chow-mein noodles, and a cut-up hot dog for good measure.  Of course, we eat it with the tamalitos.  What's a meal without tamalitos or tortillas? We sit around the table and the abuelo asks me his normal questions about the States... "China only allows people to have one child and the USA only allows two, right?"  "How many million people live in the States?"  "You don't eat tortillas there, do you?", etc.

Miyo ropa!

2:00 - Realize it's going to rain so I bring in all my clothes and scurry off on a run to the mountain.  As I run through the fields (literally the fields... only kilometers of corn in sight), I realize how incredibly blessed I am.  I'm running (with a fair amount of walking) up a mountain, surrounded by corn, and have a view of 8 other little towns all situated in the mountains.  I find a tree and climb it and sit there for a while and think.  As I am in the tree, thinking, an occasional colorfully dressed woman with a basket on her head walking a cow strolls by... that's normal.

La abuela

3:30 - Run home, including a brief sprint and throwing practice as I chuck some rocks at street dogs who begin chasing me.  Note to self: Don't go home on that path again.  Get home, chat with the abuelos for a bit and go to take a shower.  No water.  Oh well, use some from the pilla to avoid repelling all friends because of my stench and finish retrieving my clothes.  Still no rain - just ominous clouds.


4:00 - Rejoice in the invention of internet as I talk with people I care about (including my host brother who is in our internet cafe two rooms away...) and am able to enter into community with people who are walking through the loss of Robin as well.  I also work on job applications. 

Carlos and his family dye, spool, and weave the thread

6:00 - Marie comes into my room and says, "quiere acompañarme?" (literally, "do you want to accompany me?"  Sure.  This question has not, in the past almost 10 months, failed to provide some sort of entertaining adventure.  We proceed to go, through the thick fog that made us think that the world really was going to end, to every Catholic family's house in Cantel.  Well, probably not every, but you get the picture.  We end up at her house and wait for her husband, Carlos, to come home and talk about illnesses, etc.  Carlos comes home and shows me the traditional trajes he weaves for a job.  I am going to buy some from him and ask Tina's host aunt to make some bags and skirts and stuff from them.  Anyone want anything?  You will all be receiving Guatemalan gifts for at least the next 2 years... I like supporting my friends way more than buying things from Target or Walmart :)  There's lots of color options that I'm putting up because they are BEAUTIFUL!

8:45 - The three of us make it back to my house and we sit down for dinner (more chowmein and my favorite type of Tamalitos... these ones with leaves have in them!).  We also eat some chocolate cake that Elly brought home from work... happiness.

9:30 - Brush teeth in the pilla, realize there's still no water, and head to bed.

Sunrise!

Sunday
5:45 - Get up, put on my swim suit, and Porfilio, Marie, Carlos, and I head to the pool.  It's about an hour hike away down the mountain through the fields and along the river.  I get a huge urge to bring one of our many water-cleaning machines in the States to Guatemala and make the river white and clear because it's gorgeous!  Just really brown.  There's also really great mountains to climb... anyone interested?  Bring your rope!

You haven't been on a sketchy bridge until you've seen this one

Too bad the water is foamy and brown :(

 7:00 - Jump in the pool.  It's a hotspring pool and SO WARM.  I know almost everyone there... evidently everyone I know in Cantel (only Tina's extended family and mine) likes to swim before Mass on Sundays.  We play in the pool, they are impressed by my incredibly ugly butterfly stroke, and I teach people to do flip turns.  All in a day's fun.

Houses destroyed last year by the hurricane...

8:30 - Realize that it's 8:30 and we run, through the ruins from Hurricane Agatha last year, to the bus.  Take a bus to the entrada and wait for a pickup or micro to take us home

9:15 - Eat moosh and cornflakes and get ready for mass

10:00 - Arrive at 9:30 mass... others arrive after us.  We're near the back and I am able to sit in a corner and just spend time just praying, crying, and praying some more for my CPPC family as they come together for worship.

Tasty Helado!

11:30 - Vamos al Mercado!  Buy sooo much produce that Porfilio and I fear we're going to lose our arms because the baskets are so heavy and Elly is using her apron as an additional basket.  We also get the best and most tasty ice cream you'll ever have in your life.  Coconut covered with chocolate and peanuts!

El Gato...

1:00 - Realize that what smelt so bad at Mass was my scarf.  The blasted cat shared its urine with it!!!  (It's a good thing I've had some positive animal experiences in the States or else I would hate all animals... peeing in my suitcase, eating my underwear, giving me fleas... no bueno!)
Begin soaking it and get ready for lunch.  Take pictures of the family!


1:30 - Fish for lunch!  A whole fish.  Eyes, bones, all.  We again talk about how the end of the world wasn't yesterday, it will be atomic bombs.  Learn that you can get rid of fish smell by washing your hands and plates with limes.  Do it.

3:30 - Finish 2 job applications!  And now I'm writing this.

Porfilio Pequeno and the internet

Rest of the day?  I'll probably read a bit, continue glaring at the cat, visit Elly or Porfilio in the Internet cafe, and around 5, after Abuelo naptime, help make dinner, go with the abuelo to feed the pigs, and think about how I've learned to become content by being and not always doing...

And then I'll hope for a chicken and a beautiful sunset

the joys and pains of distance

Marcia (our supervisor) said the wisest quote I've ever heard at our last retreat...  

"I've come to realize that nothing in life is perfect"

Yes.  On this side of earth, nothing is perfect - we're just called to follow the path carved by our maker and do our best to do get as close to perfect as we are supposed to be, and this looks different for everyone.

This year in Guatemala has been a lesson in this quotation.  I have always been someone who has thought, "if I could just have done this, it would have been perfect."  In the sport of swimming, it is super duper easy to go down this path of thinking: "if I just would have not cut my nails, I would have touched that girl out... or if I would have just not taken that breath, I would have had the perfect race"  I fell in that trap of thinking a lot in ministry as well (and, while we're at true confessions... in all of life (did I mention I went to 19 consecutive years of school and for all 19 years was somehow preoccupied/obsessed about my grades?)).   

However in Guatemala, through a lot of days, weeks, and months of speaking with imperfection, I've come to use that as an analogy for life's lesson that you can't have perfection.  "If I would have just conjugated that irregular verb correctly, it wouldn't have taken the tienda clerk and I 5 minutes to explain what type of juice I wanted to buy" or "If I would have just written that accent over como when teaching that question in class, then they'd understand me perfectly."  No.  They probably wouldn't understand me perfectly.  I can get them to understand me more than they did the first time... maybe... but there's cultural differences that will always make communication imperfect.  I can't strive for perfection, I can just strive for casi perfecto.  

Yesterday and today, I'm realizing that these lessons in perfection can also be seen in light of the distance I live from loved ones.  As graduations are approaching, I want so badly to be there and congratulate my friends - you did it!  but I'm not there.  As summer is coming and I want to participate in Vacation Bible School and retreats and take my parents' boat for a spin filled with all my friends who seemed to move to the Seattle area while I've been gone, I'm not there.  As I look into where I'm going next, I realize that I can't be in Guatemala, Walla Walla, Minneapolis, and the westside of Washington at the same time, and none of them are perfect options anyways.  Finally, as I hear that Robin, CPPC's senior pastor, has lost his amazingly heartfelt battle with cancer and returned to the Ultimate Shepherd, I hurt because I'm not there to be a part of the community supporting one another and being supported through the loss.  I'm not in any of those places.  Life's not perfect.  It sometimes really hurts.

But then I realize that I am fulfilling the mission I have been given.  Although nothing in life is perfect, I know that I am where I need to be right now - the distance I live at is not perfect, by any means, but it's perfectly close to a lot of things.  

It is perfectly close to kids who need love and the lesson that sometimes giving love to kids in need results in them returning the favor with fleas.  

It is perfectly close to a country that is in the midst international news breaking turmoil (it's all happening north of me!) and allows for conversations that are incredibly enlightening for me.

It is perfectly close to a bunch of life lessons that are being learned (including this one) and perfectly provides for a year of self life lessons and discovery.

It is perfectly close to helping me develop a new life outlook and perspective about myself, life, God, and how they all fit together.

Distance has joys and it has pains... it's definitely not perfect, but life isn't either.

To the Petersons and CPPC family and the Walla Walla and Touchet communities - I'm praying for you! May we all look to the great Shepherd and counselor for counsel and guidance.

Pues, Katy... Este es la vida

Translated: Pues (or some slightly affirmative English word), Katharine.... This is the life.

This was said to me by the 84 year-old abuelo as we sat on top of the mountain in his forest overlooking the cornfields and entire municipality of Cantel and talking about the Catholic, Evangelical, and Mayan church relationships and history throughout the last 500 years. He's a walking almanac.  He can tell you how the corn is growing, that it needs fertilizer in exactly 15 days, that I'm wrong... it's not going to rain now, it will rain at night (as the lightening is beginning at 9pm, he's right), that his daughter was born at 1am 48 years ago and exactly where he was at that time, and so much more.

This is my seventh house in Guatemala; fourth in Xela. Two of the six moves were planned in this yearlong program... the other four weren't planned by the program, but I'm realizing that they were planned, just not by Marcia, me, nor PC(USA). If this house were to have been my first through sixth, I wouldn't appreciate all that I have nor would I have experienced all that I have and made the friends/playmates that I now have at three different locations in Quetzaltenango (yay for bicycle adventures, futbol in the streets, and so much more!).  I've definitely had some points throughout this year where I've questioned God's logic and called him loco, crazy, and cadocadopa (because saying, "you're crazy" in Spanish, English, and Japanese makes me feel like I might be heard), and I don't take away the fact that I still think he's a bit crazy, but I like crazy.  At least when it comes from the Creator who knows all. 

All that to say, I'm in a new location and pues, este es la vida.

Let me tell you a bit about my locale.  My camera is currently hiking in my place from Xela to Lake Atitlan so you're going to have to wait for pictures.  But, words are descriptive too. 

Where am I?  I'm living in Cantel - a Municipality outside of Xela.  It consists of 9 villages - I live in Pueblo... the heart of Cantel.  Tina lives in Estancia... also in Cantel but on the mountain on the other side of the highway (nope.... don't want to walk over there!).  My family is indigenous so I'm learning/observing the art of woodburning stoves in the kitchen, the only running water being in one corner of the patio where the pila and scarcely blockaded toilet live (and shower!  with hot water when we have water!), and life where I get to stargaze as I walk from my room to the corner of the house that has water!  My room is actually the passageway to the outdoors (the other door is in the internet cafe (I HAVE INTERNET!)) so there are the occasional visitors headed out to "do their business" whether it being the dog to relieve himself, the grandpa to play his tuba, or random relatives coming as we play the constant game of sharing water based upon who has it at the time.  It's a bit strange and random, but for the next three months, it will be a-okay.

The family that I live with consists of the 84 year-old grandpa, 77 year-old grandma, Elly (my host mom), and her son who is in his young 20s.  Her daughter and her husband come by quite a lot as well and they're really fun too.  Grandpa, as mentioned above, is great.  Every meal is story time with Grandpa (which is usually me, grandma, and him because the son has school and Elly is working in the cafe) and I often hear the same stories which has really helped my Spanish improve.  His passions are his fields and playing the Tuba which he seems to do in random festivals at least three times a week.   Grandma stays in the house pretty much 100% of the time and takes care of the house and cooks a lot.  She's not quite as mobile as the abuelo (okay, not even close) but she definitely has that kitchen/cooking stuff down to an art. She's teaching me a little and is learning that I'm really bad a peeling carrots with a giant knife.  Both of their first languages are k'itché and sometimes they forget that, unlike the rest of the family, I can't understand it (no one else speaks, but there's this gorgeous flow of the abuelos speaking in k'itché and family members responding in Spanish; I don't even think they notice!).  But overall, we get along great.  It's been such a gift to have these gorgeous, wise people in my life.  I never lived close to my grandparents and my energy level is such that I naturally gravitate toward the wee ones so this is my first time having a long, intensive relationship with this generation.  It's great.

The rest of my family is awesome too.  Elly is an incredible, loving, and strong lady who loves her family, her dog, and possibly above all, her cat (who just gave birth!).  She's Marcia's favorite childcarer and has done the same for me and my angry stomach (that's a story in itself that will be saved for face to face conversations so the entire world doesn't think I'm crazy). I'm so lucky to have her!  Her kids are also great and have included me in my muteness to join them in a lot of their friendship activities.  I've learned a lot about what I want in my life in terms of community.

So... all in all... Pues, este es la vida.  And pues, we've gotta love it and learn and see the blessings!

Now, I'm going to go sprint through the rain to brush my teeth and go to bed... bummer, the abuelo was correct!

Bummer... that prayer service worked.

So... my last post was about the prayer service on top of the mountain to ask for rain.

God listened.

Bummer.  I don't like being wet.

It's so cool though!  As we came down the mountain, we jumped in the back of a pickup as it began to sprinkle and headed back home in that (yay!  No more walking up hills!).  Then, Monday, it rained in the afternoon.  Tuesday, afternoon rain.  Wednesday, afternoon storm and night rain (the thunder was so loud that my sixth graders and I jumped in fear when it struck!).  Thursday, afternoon rain (but that snuck up on me and I left my "umbrella of shame"  at the school... even wetter).  Today, rain again.  

God listens to prayers!  Thanks!

Now let's hope that we have just the right amount.  Two years ago, there was a massive drought, the worst in 40 years, and all the corn was killed.  Last year, it was the wettest year in 40 years and a lot of the corn rotted and people died from so much destruction.  So prayers for good amounts...

Life's definitely an adventure!

There are lots of pretty mountains in this view normally... Now, just thunder clouds.  And big rain drops!

God is not only in the church

On Sunday, I had one of the coolest spiritual and cultural experiences of my life. 

It was Sunday which meant it was Mass (I moved!  Now, I'm living with a great Catholic family... more on that in another blog).  Anyways, this mass was incredibly special, it was a Mass to pray for rain.  The municipality began a tradition years ago that on a certain Sunday, the entire Catholic community (9 churches from each of the 9 pueblos in the municipality) would hike up and have mass on top of the highest mountain in the area.  It's like the FIUCC boat-in service, but a lot more work (4 hours of hiking up a mountain cuesta mas que 30 minutes in a speedboat!).  Anyways, the last priest didn't like the tradition; he said that God was only in the church. He was wrong.  The people still did it, but the new priest now really supports it and he joined his 9 parishes and had a full mass, sound system, generator, and all (bless the poor souls who hiked up a mountain with those on their heads).  It was even televised.  What was even cooler (if possible) was that he is from Solala, the area by Lake Atitlan, and that community had their equivalent of a rain mass on top of their highest mountain at the same time.  What a cool sense of community.

Here's a bit more information about the day....

We woke up at 5am and saw the beautiful sunrise.  Any day that begins with seeing the sunrise, especially if it's on your way to the bathroom (we don't have a roof over the center of the house), is going to be an amazing day.  Porfilio pequeno (my host brother) and I had breakfast and then Marie pequeno (host sister) and Carlos came over and we began walking.

Looking from Xecam at Pueblo where I now live

We walked down the killer hill from the Pueblo (where we live) to the Fabrica.  Then, we crossed the highway and walked up another killer hill through Pasac 1 to Xecam.  That was our first hour.  There, we met some friends and continued on our way.  The next 2.5 hours were pretty much straight up the mountain.  Hardwork, but incredibly moving.  Because people were coming from all nine neighboring communities and these people live off these forests and know them incredibly well, people appeared from all sorts of directions.  A walk that began with the 4 of us grew to 6 and then to 10 and then to at least 100 walking up the hill toward the sound of the service.  One nun looked back (yep!  nuns!) and said, "Hay mucha gente, que bonita!" (there are lots of people - how beautiful).  She was totally right. 

 When we got up to the top, our cluster of 12 or so 20somethings found an area to sit and wait for the service.  There were a lot of people when it started, and by 1/2 way through, there were easily 1000 people, sitting, kneeling, and standing in the trees, united in prayer for rain and general admiration towards God.  As the priest went around and asked each pueblo represented to shout out and nine different communities hollered, I got a whole new sense for who God is.   He is the God of every community no matter if they're in the western highland mountains of Guatemala or on the Puget Sound in the USA.  He is the God of every person no matter if they're indigenous, wearing traditional clothing, old, young, or are the sole gringo in the group.  He is the God that cares about rain (it rained both yesterday and today... man does he listen!) and food and people's well-being.  He is the God who is everywhere.  He is the God I want to know intimately and be known by. 

Making a fire proved a bit challenging

After the service, we stayed up on the mountain and made a fire (because it was really cold!) and ate our lunch.  I had chocolate cake and Carlos' two little sisters and I greatly enjoyed it.  We hung out on top of the mountain waiting for a while because Marie appointed our group of friends as the self-appointed trash cleaner-uppers. Amazing!  So, we went around and picked up all the trash and continued doing that as we ran down the mountain (somethings are just easier to run down than slide on the dirt the entire way). 

The Altar

When we got to the bottom, my conviction of God's omnipresence was even more greatly confirmed.  At this point, after mass and hanging out all day with Spanish speakers, my translating part of my brain was getting tired, so I surrendered all knowledge of what was going on to my friends and continued to follow.  We walked to a middle-aged woman's house and then followed her to her mother's house.  Her mother was clearly sick and bedridden.  The 12 of us went into her room and someone found a guitar and songbooks and they had a prayer and healing service for this woman.  It was so authentic and so moving.  And, as I'm working on figuring out what I want in my next step of life, so inspiring.  I want to have a group of friends like this who can frolic and joke the entire way down a mountain and then take our dirty selves to a woman's house and bestow some of the best pastoral care on her that I've ever seen.  It's incredible.

God is not just in the church.  He does not need to work through a pastor, priest, trained person, or someone who is really special.  He is on the mountain.  He is in that room.  He works through 20somethings.  It's cool.

A day at the Zoo

They have pigeons... and then students told me how many pet pigeons they ha

Sometimes I think we, at the school, are crazy.  Tuesday was one of those days.
But don't worry... crazy doesn't necessitate that it's bad.

This past Tuesday we took all the kids to the zoo.  Zoo?  Yes, that's right.  Xela has a zoo.  It's public and it's free.  That means that it sports exotic animals including squirrels, raccoons, goats, sheep, a monkey, and the token, completely insane jaguars all in really small cages.

It also sports a lot of trash because Guatemala is a bit behind on the environmental education and doesn't have trashcans because allegedly they get stolen from wherever they're placed.  It's sad.

 Don't forget the zoo's chicken!  Mmmm Lunch

But the school's out to change it with our ecology lessons.  This past month, we learned about cleaning, the environment, and how to care for our earth.  Unfortunately, the teachers planned the events while eating off an excessive amount of styrofoam plates, but change takes time, right?  Anyways, back to the zoo.  We went to the zoo to culminate our ecology theme.  The little kids - grades 2 and under - cleaned up trash.  The big kids - grades 3-6 - painted all the trees with Cale (a mixture of limestone) so insects wouldn't eat them (allegedly this works and that's why all the trees have white bases!).  It was really great to see them work together for this great cause... all 220+ of them.

Highlights of the day included...

Bus ride (most of our kids don't get to do that!)

Trash pickup (not pictured!)

Snack

 Watching Animals

 And really sketchy playgrounds that were probably sent here in the 70s after they were banned in the US.

But they're fun!