Guatemala Delgation: The Takeoff and the Turbulence

I was scared to death. If you know me, you know I don't travel in general. I am barely willing to camp. The only other place outside North America that I've visited is Europe, and that over 12 years ago. But when my friend Carrie described this trip to our Sister Parish in San Andres Itzapa, Guatemala to me, about a year ago, in the parish hall at Christ Church, I felt a leaping "Yes!" rising in my throat before she'd finished describing it. This answer was one of the few in my that I "just knew" to give.

(For more about the Sister Parish program, its purpose and practices, click here.)

And, given that I spent most of the rest of the year in a state of fear and dread, I'm very grateful for that early burst of certitude.

Still, approaching the day of departure, I was beginning to feel an excitement! Our itinerary was packed with interesting visits and day trips, and I was really looking forward to finally making some use of my high school Spanish efforts. And then, Friday, the day before I was to leave, I got a call from Miles' school: he was vomiting, and would I come pick him up? Suddenly all I could feel was sick. I wish it was because I was just worried about my son, but in truth, I was terrified of getting sick and having to miss my flight. I took him home from school, went back to work, came home, tucked him in to bed by way of goodbye and finished up my packing, all without a symptom of real illness other than the havoc of sheer nerves on my stomach (and it was some pretty intense havoc).

Morning... well, it didn't dawn at 4 am, but it did arrive and my alarm did ring. I was vomit-free and hale, as far as I could tell, and I'd received a text from Melissa that filled me with a sense of goodness and possibility. And I did actually get dressed, eat, zip up my suitcase, make a final check for the irreplaceable items in my luggage.... and leave. Jon walked me over to the van, waiting in the Kroger parking lot, at 4:55 am, in about 10 degree weather. After a cold goodbye, I was actually off!

Our delegation was 5 very different women. We could not have known how we could grow in friendship over the course of the week:

Meet Sharon, Carrie, Maureen, Kim, all behind me, at the Roanoke Airport. 

We began with prayer at the airport, and then it was time to board.
I don't fly often, so you know I was glued to my window.

Here, you can see Atlanta & the surrounding suburbs. 

Here, a river in... Alabama? near the Gulf of Mexico

 After what seemed an impossibly short period:

Guatemala is beneath us, here!

Brian, the Sister Parish staffer we'd skyped with back in VA, picked us up at the airport. Brian is a Memphian, Melissa! He spent some years in the Peace Corps and has attained fluency in Spanish, and has a heart for building the kind of relationships we are seeking to build with Sister Parish, so he was a superlative leader and guide.

I spoke some intermediate-quality Spanish to our taxi driver and he filled my ears with the praises of his home country. In just a short drive, we were in the Sister Parish, Guatemala City headquarters building.

Our bedroom. 

Sister Parish, HQ Courtyard (Do you not love the color??)

Courtyard 2

We had a session on what to expect during our week, ate a meal, and retired early, looking forward to a morning walk around Ciudad Guatemala.

Unfortunately, for me, that walk didn't happen. Instead, I woke up at 5:30 with painful belly cramps, and soon proved myself to be violently sick. We assumed it was the water, or a flu, but my symptoms were so aggressive and worsened so rapidly (I was quite feverish by about 11), that the leadership decided I needed to visit the hospital/clinic.

I can't dwell much on my feelings that morning. I was devastated, anguished, sure that I had proved incapable of international travel and would be sent home on the next plane, still sick and miserable, to be treated in the US. I was sure that, at the very least, I would be a serious encumbrance to the mission of the delegation. As I shivered and cried on the hospital table, all seemed totally hopeless. Was it the little bit of tap water I accidentally got on my toothbrush? was it the stomach bug from which Miles had been suffering when I left?

Actually, it was neither. When the labs came back, they showed was suffering from angry intestinal amoebas! What was, to me, the ironic part is this: when I got sick, I assumed, "Guatemala has made me sick, and I will need to go to the US for medical care." In fact, the doctor in that Ciudad Guatemala Clinic believes that since I became sick so quickly, I must have brought my parasite with me. Which means: the US made me sick, and Guatemala was about to cure me.

Julieta, another Sister Parish staffer, was in the clinic with me and she pretty much was my angelic comforter. She translated when my Spanish failed me, she explained the meds to me, she distracted me with stories of her own life and experiences and asked me distracting questions about mine. I am so, so grateful that God placed Julieta with our delegation.

I received IV fluids for my dehydrated state, and medicines for the nausea, pain and fever, and went back to HQ with a script for meds that Brian was so sure would soon cure me, that he gave me the okay to travel to San Andres Itzapa. We got the first dose in me before leaving. I still spent the whole hour-long journey to SAI stretched out on the bus seats, trying not to moan aloud (I don't think I was entirely successful in this). When we arrived, I sort of fell out of the bus in a feverish stupor.

We were ushered into a courtyard and we all gasped. The entire congregation (probably around 50 people? maybe more?) were assembled into this tiny courtyard (that I later learned WAS their church) to meet us. They were all in their Sunday best, which varied from gorgeous traditional Guatemalan/Kaqchikel clothing, to modern dresses and suits, and the colors were brilliant in the sunshine. We were given seats of honor at the front of the courtyard, and one by one we were greeted by all the different factions who were present.

Guatemalans are big on speeches. We got one from nearly every representative, but we were awed and delighted by each because of the heartfelt welcome and gratitude they expressed for our visit.
The children performed a traditional dance, followed by a more modern dance. We were applauded, and I stood up and tremblingly gave the Spanish speech I'd prepared, expressing my joy and sense of honor in visiting them, and my hope that we would experience the reality of our unity in Christ, despite differences in language and culture. I'm so glad I kept that on my person! As I said, this is a people who appreciate a formal speech.

I was trembling both with fever and with joy and delight as children spoke to me, hugged me, kissed my cheeks and told me their names and ages. Eventually, however, I had to excuse myself. I was not yet well, that much was clear, though I now felt more motivated to become well than I had all that day.

I got a "taxi" (tiny vehicle the size of a golf cart) ride to my host family's home, where I was welcomed by Basilia and Otto, their daughter Tania, her daughter Keli and cousin, Hersea.

Kitchen, Basilia & Otto's

Dazed and weary as I was, the cat I saw asleep in the kitchen was a sight for sore eyes. 

His name is Mitchie. 

Before long, I also became acquainted with Balan, the dog. 

The drugs were working. By morning, the fever was very slight, and my stomach had calmed. I would be waiting another day or so for any trace of appetite to return, but the corner of my terrible horrible experience had been turned. 

I'm still trying to comb out the meaning of that dreadful first day. I'm a big worrier, and sickness was one of my greatest fears in attempting this trip, right in the middle of flu season as it was. I think I'd subconsciously believed that if I worried enough about something, I could prevent it. When this turned out not to be the way of things, I felt violated. How is it that we could be so bathed in prayer, and I could responded courageously to the thing I feared, and yet have such a violent sickness happen almost immediately? It seemed like malice on the part of the universe. 

Still, the week that followed more than demonstrated the value of my trip. I am reminded in contemplating this first bit of turbulence of one of Julian of Norwich's observations: "First there is the fall, and then there is the recovery from the fall. But both are the mercy of God." I haven't gotten the lessons all teased out yet, and I still bear some degree of resentment that I was sick at all. But I got to have the experience of surviving something I greatly feared, and of being helped mercifully by people very different from myself. Not only did the the doctor treat me skillfully, but the people of the Episcopal Church of San Andres Itzapa wasted no time in praying for me. They knew I was ill upon my arrival, and they laid hands on me at the assembly that day and prayed for me with feeling and eloquence. To have been rescued by those I did not know and cannot repay: this must have been for my good. I am sure of this much. 

Next: I'll dwell on our early-week adventures in San Andres Itzapa. After my recovery, too, I took a lot more photos!

Alive to Laugh

We are back in Blacksburg as of Sunday night! I tumbled out of that over-filled car on Sunday evening, fresh off of the expressway, into a meeting for my Guatemala trip.
We leave on Saturday at 5am.

I am in a strange state of denial mixed with excitement mixed with anxiety. Fortunately, we have a lot of people praying for our trip. I have felt your prayers this week, before I have even left. Thank you.

I got several gifts I loved for Christmas, but one that has been making me smile in these frigid days is the hat I bought myself from Wegmans. I enjoyed so much the day I bought it. It was snowy, cold (though not as cold as today!), we were on our way to feed the chickadees at Mendon Ponds, and everyone in the Wegmans that day was so delightful in that Northern quality of hurry and straightforwardness that, to southerners, would approach rudeness. To me, being home is like playing a game where I know the rules.

I am taking a moment before I go to Guatemala to set an intention. So far, my prayers for the trip have been focused on my remaining calm and present, which is certainly still what I'm hoping for. But I'm going to go further.

My One Word for 2014 was Alive. I wanted to make choices to open up to live, to do things that made me feel alive, as a means of combating anxiety. And, I think the Alive endeavor's done a lot of good. I am in better shape, I am sure of it, than I was was last year. I made this decision to go to Guatemala in part because it seemed like something someone who was Alive would do. But this year I am focusing on what may be an even more effective means of being healthy and alive in the world: laughter. I am making my 2015 word "Laugh." 

If you know me, you know I love to both talk and laugh, and you also know that when I'm at my least healthy, I am anti-social, quiet, and unwilling to laugh. I used to laugh much more than I do now, and knowing what we know about the health benefits of laughter, I am going to try to seek it out. Even the laughter that gives you that giddy, dizzy feeling. Bring it on.

So, during my week in Guatemala, I intend not only to look and listen, but to engage with people and to laugh as often as is socially appropriate. This will be a better means of maintaining mental health than merely willing myself to be calm, I am convinced.

Just a short entry today! Miles is home on his first winter weather day of the year, it's only only his second day "back." This might be a long winter...

Just one cute kid picture in the rations today. Here are the kids, absorbing and spreading germs on creepy Uncle Ronald's lap, on our way home last week:

Adele looks so troubled, right?

Here we go, 2015!

Timehop reminded me that, one year ago today, I posted about receiving my Hogwarts Letter from Melissa. That day was such a bolt of joy into my world, and it reminded me how transformative it can be to suddenly have cause to rejoice about something. 

This year it is also bitterly cold, and I am ALSO wearing the same sweater. Has to mean something. 

I'm trying to carry this same spirit of joy with me, to Guatemala, and back, to the beginning of a new semester, at the beginning of a cold winter. Come with me. 

A year well begun

Dad and Agnes gave us the gift of babysitting on Tuesday and Wednesday nights! This enabled Jon and me to see The Battle of The Five Armies on Tuesday (about which I will only say, I enjoyed watching it, very very much). Wednesday night, the Browns hosted us at dinner! They had all of their children and grandchildren home, so it was a merry house of children and old friends that night. The kids then went to bed at Dad's, and Jon & I got to have yet another night out, playing cards and ringing in 2015 at Allison's house with old friends.

On New Year's Day, the Browns had a miraculously well-attended brunch. So many dear old friends were able to come and catch up. I had hoped to see about 1/3 as many as I was able to see that morning. I'm so grateful! It was like a surprise party of some kind.

Old friends and new filled the house!

 The children in the basement were numerous and frolicsome. The old fisher price toys, and the doll house, came out, and they were all fast friends.

 The Nickoloffs came! And we were able to get a few 2Ls pictures:

 Group picture of some very dear, dear people to me:

Thank you, Brown family. What a gift!

 The kids in the basement were only minimally supervised. But, as far as I know, no injuries resulted!

I haven't seen the Johnsons in long enough for them to add to their family by 1!

Adele enjoyed roosting under the table and darting up for more treats when no one was watching.

 What a beautiful morning!

Oddly exhausted by the event, I still managed to get over to the Highlands to see my other Grandmother.

She's struggling in some ways, but retains her saucy personality.

And there was one more cozy evening with Grandpa and Miss Agnes for us. 

We left Dad definitely not fully recovered from his (probable) pneumonia. Please pray for his full recovery?
And for my good health to continue: I leave for Guatemala a week from tomorrow!

Goodbye, until the summer, Rochester.

Days of Christmas

Christmas, as we know, is 12 days long, and we try to keep the days between Christmas day and Epiphany as festive as possible. One of the perks of the academic calendar is that we've never had to work during these days!

On St. Stephen's Day, Dec. 26, we made our semi-annual trip to Canada to visit my nonagenarian grandparents. Unfortunately, we had to make it a short trip, because it became very clear shortly after we arrived that Adele was going to be the next victim of the Virus (that started with Dad and eventually got through everyone but Jon). She was was so feverish and cranky that we got no pictures and, after a gift exchange, lunch, and conversation, and after taking no pictures at all, we beat a hasty retreat before Adele infected anyone else.

We did get a chance to stop by Niagara Falls on the way back, and, briefly, got out of the car to gaze at the Canadian Falls:

At home, we hunkered down with Adele's sickness. Miles was still standing

So we enjoyed some outdoor time in Grandpa Jim's big backyard, gathering twigs and acorns and what turned out to be the bio-degenerate remains of a doggy chew toy. Good times!

Sunday afternoon found us at the Memorial Art Gallery for the exhibit on Little Golden Books art.

The gallery was lovely; I hadn't been in years.

I was fascinated by different cultures with art featuring breastfeeding.

From the American Art section, this was entitled, "Non-Fiction." 

Around the museum were scattered these devices called Infinity Boxes. They were really quite small; here, Adele gazes into one:

But they were filled with mirrors and lights and other objects that appeared to multiply in a circle of reflected images:

Jon's panorama

MilesFinity

Leah, Abby & TaiTai met us there.

So did my uncle!

My pics aren't as good as Jon's, but I liked this box best.

This lovely bench was covered with poetry.

After we made the rounds, we lingered by the fountain. I was beginning to feel myself getting sick, so the running water and plant life felt restorative. The kids were energized by them too.

I gave Miles a dime for the fountain and told him it got him 10 wishes. He was quiet and close-eyed for a long time, thinking of all his 10 wishes before casting his coin.

These 4 were so glad to be together again.

That night was pretty rough. Adele's ear infection made itself known in the form of half a night of wakefulness and screaming. Only Mickey cartoons could mollify my little sufferer. The urgent care center confirmed my suspicion in the morning. Fortunately, the good old Pink Medicine works as well on this generation as it did on mine. She is back to her usual mischief, today!

I got a bit sick too, but by Monday night, after a good nap, I was well enough to take Miles to one of his first feature length movie theater experiences. We saw the reboot of Annie and we are huge fan kids of Quevenzhane Wallis, now!

He was dancing in the aisles. The soundtrack is now his motivation music.

On the morning of the 30th, I got one of my Christmas wishes:

I wanted to go out in it immediately, of course, but it really wouldn't have gone too well with everyone's various illnesses. So we spent the day at the Rochester Museum and Science Center! Another one to which I hadn't been in years. It did not disappoint!

Digging for dino bones.

There was a whole beaver lodge and beaver theater with puppets and costumes. Obviously, we lingered there.

Miles passed a good amount of time on the little construction site they had. Here he is, in his gear and ready to go:

This pic is not mine, but I wanted to show the climbing maze in the Adventure Zone exhibit to give context to my story:

Adele was just not herself, still, very clingy and whiny as ear infected 3 year olds tend to be. But she lit up at the chance to try the climbing maze. Up she went, but in several places, it all became too much for her and she would find herself stuck and crying in corner up there. We sent her brother up after her, though, and with an instinctive compassion I don't always see in him, he encouraged her ("It's okay, Adele, this way, I am here" etc), prodded her, and even gave her a boost in several places (she stepped on his knees and shoulders to ascend). When they got through, Adele was so flushed with her success that she only stayed to high five us all before diving back into the maze. Miles patiently helped her get through it a total of 3 times before we made them move on. It was beautiful to watch! Grandpa Jim and Mercedes thought so too. 

My favorite part, and I suspect, the kids' too, was the huge room of animatronic dinosaurs. We couldn't get enough of them!

There were even costumes!

The view from the dinosaur room. You see East Avenue, with downtown in the background. I love this city.

Despite all the sickness, we were thoroughly pampered by my dad, Agnes, and Mercedes. As a result, we're all healthy and rested and have a bouquet of good memories from our 10 days in NY. I miss it already!