Despair, Hope, Community, Rest, and Prayer; or, Tuesday in Guatemala

How to Walk Right Out of Yourself, might be another title.

Mitchie the Cat, my comforter in weakness, friend in anxiety

I woke up Tuesday in a fog of sleepy anxiety, which persisted most of the morning. It was my first day without a nap since arrival, but the power of the tiredness I felt was worrisome to me. What if I never got better? What if, day after day in Guatemala, I remained in this fog, unable to take in what I saw or interact with it? I was so deeply grateful to have been forcibly thrust by circumstances into close friendship with the other delegates. They promised me on multiple occasions that we'd get each other through this week, and that I didn't have to fear being weak: we'd support each other. I still literally leaned on arms all the way up the hill to our first activity of Tuesday: a visit to the Chay Balam School in San Andres Itzapa. 

I still don't feel I have the full story on this school or its role in the community, but I'll give you what I learned. Chay Balam is a public school for students in K-8th grade. It is also a bilingual school, teaching children in both Spanish and Kaqchikel, This element is very important to the elders and community leaders who oversee the school. Our church, Christ Episcopal, has been involved in providing yearly scholarships for 20 children who have been identified by the committee as needing and deserving them. We tend to provide scholarships for children in the middle and upper grades of school, as the community informs us that 3rd grade is about the point at which children are more likely to drop out of school. These are the advantages of doing this work collaboratively with a committee who actually live in the community, and of maintaining a close relationship with that committee.

This is the assembly and activity room. The teachers informed us that they often take turns having activities that require physical movement in this room, as well as using the room for all-school assemblies and events.

Chay Balam serves a population that is predominantly indigenous Mayan.

An elementary classroom; I think I remember it was for 8-9 year olds. 

The SAI committee went with us on our visit to the school. 

My English Teacher self warmed to this punctuation display

Classes number between 40-65 students apiece. Per teacher. That's a ratio I'd struggle with, as a teacher!

The kindergarten room! I took pictures to show Miles:

The view out a classroom window

I loved their dear names.

I still felt pretty dazed and sleepy, but was able to get out of myself especially for the classroom visits. I do love a cheerful classroom. I felt such a satisfaction, too, that I was seeing with my own eyes this faraway school which our church supports. I can tell them firsthand about some of the good they're doing!

To help us understand the scholarship program a bit better, we then did a couple of visits to the homes of scholarship students. 

Guys, this is a completely different part of town and way of life than that of our hosts. Homes here are extremely small, usually with great gaps where rain and wind can get in. 

There are several small rooms with roofs, who all open to a patio wherein are kept the garden, the fireplace and kitchen, and the animals. Folks are doing a whole lot with a very little. I felt honored to be invited for a visit.

Folks had been warned of our coming and received us graciously. Don't they look lovely?

The little boy in blue and black is the scholarship student in this family 

When we visited this family, we stayed a while, for several reasons. 

One, the lady of the house served us all canned juice! We were staggered by her hospitality. Secondly, I, uh, had to use her facilities. Thirdly, we ended up in conversation in which she and her children were very anxious to tell us about the death of the father of the family, and how it had affected them. The daughter (to her mother's right), asked to be taught by our translators how to say "My father died" in English, so as to communicate unmistakably and directly to us. I don't know how he died, but I know that this event was devastating to the family, emotionally and financially. The mother (& by the way, I did learn their names, just feel like keeping that quiet) broke down crying while talking about the loss of her husband. We North Americans were a bit awkward about this development, but Brian immediately began to speak comfort to her, and the ladies of SAI physically surrounded her. We soon circled the family and prayed fervently for God's comfort, help and protection. Her son (left) is a scholarship student; someone will have to correct me but I believe the daugher is, too. 

Framed diploma proudly displayed in a tiny house

Proud 6th grade graduate

Something miscellaneous you should know about San Andres Itzapa: Chickens and specifically ROOSTERS are absolutely everywhere, and know no limits in their persistent crowing. 

I don't know that we have pictures of it, but when some of us were admiring the duck (patos), and the train of patitos behind her, a child in the family rushed off, grabbed one, and handed it to me, for my entertainment! I'd already known tears, and then got to add laughter to the morning as I struggled to handle the wiggling little duckling and also avoid the hissing, furious mother duck.

When we left the house I felt like someone had reached down and yanked my spirit out of the interior if its own enclosure and set it in the open air, among other people. Praise God, for to be in the presence of this grieving and courageous family and to be focused on one's own mental state at the time would have seemed to me a sort of blasphemy. Please join me in praying for this family, that they may be comforted, supported, and blessed as they go one without their father.

Our party then boarded our touring bus for the next adventure.

Balan the dog was among the party, much to all our delight!

You better believe he has a friend in Don Otto. 

The afternoon included a restful visit to the water reservoir and public baths.

One is for fish, the other for bathing. Stiff penalties are threatened to those who bathe themselves or their pets in the wrong reservoir. 

Basilia & Julieta

This gave me a great chance to get to know Carrie better. I'm so grateful for the relationships of this trip! 

Don't you feel more relaxed? We did. 

The afternoon took us out to Chimaltenango, a bigger town about 20 minutes' drive from SAI.

This walk around town actually occurred after the church visit, but I didn't want to go out on the picture of the dogs eating garbage. You know. 

Padre Miguel, introduced previously, has a church here in Chimaltenango as well as the church in SAI. He invited us in that afternoon to tell us the story of these churches. 

The story was long, and even longer for being interrupted by translators every few sentences. But he patiently told us of his coming to this church, how it seemed large on the day that he first came, but how attendance dwindled and how he's worked to increase it. He told us the story of his encounter with the group in San Andres Itzapa, and how they were functioning as an independent church unit before he became their rector. It's a complicated history!

We learned that the church building in SAI is a rental, but that they hope to purchase a building in time.

Padre Miguel and me.

After the historical overview, we received a tour of the building, and stopped to sing some hymns and spirituals in the back of the church. What marvelous acoustics!

In the church tower and porch, we lingered to looked down on the town.

The town was simple, and hard on our North American eyes in places, accustomed as we are to taller, more stable looking, neater buildings, buildings which look like they have insulation, whose paint job is in good order, etc. But we watched smiling children and hip young people zipping by on motorcycles, and older folks walking and greeting one another and this warmed us. A small town, after all, is a small town. There were a lot of similarities with Blacksburg. 

I hope you're able to see this video in which Maureen rings the bell!

Tuesday was the day which brought me out of my internal soul-cylinder and out into Guatemala. Human lives, human friendship, inspiring human endeavors, the loveliness of nature and the defiance of spiritual song, these are things which coax me to life every time. Thank you, Guatemala.

San Andres Itzapa: Little Altars Everywhere

I woke up Monday morning with only a mild fever, and filled with wonder at my surroundings. The home where I was staying was simple, but the sky, the mountains, and the flowers blooming in January were nothing short of extraordinary. Mist was on the mountains. With my initial burst of morning energy, I paid tribute to the morning and then took a (warmish) shower. 

At breakfast, however, I was able to eat only very little of the scrambled eggs my host mother had prepared. She clucked concernedly. Sharon looked at my pallor and said, "Go back to bed." 

I did. Before I had quite fallen asleep, Brian poked his head in and told me he thought I had a flu. I should have recovered from amoebas, in his opinion, by then. If I didn't recover quickly, he judged it would be necessary for me to be sent back to Sister Parish HQ in Ciudad Guatemala.

I fell asleep in a state of quiet despondency. 

When I woke, I found I was in much better shape. The fever had gone, and I was even able to choke down a granola bar. After prayers, we had lunch at Don Otto and Basilia's, and we explored the town!

Don Otto and Balan; good friends. 

I also greatly appreciated Don Otto's affectionate love for his cats! 

Don Otto was such a godsend. If you don't know, my Grandfather Revell passed away the night before I left for Guatemala. I was not able to be in town for his funeral, which occured early in the week I was away. But I felt so strongly that I was meeting with something of Grandpa's spirit in Don Otto. This man is a leader in his community. He's strong in his convictions, but passionate and sincere as he describes them. He feels free to feel emotions, and he clearly loves his wife and children. I actually lost both my grandfathers in the last six months, so I cherished feeling loved by this foster father, patriarch of his family. and lover of animals. 

San Andres Itzapa Roman Catholic Church

The streets of SAI are narrow, winding, and steep. Driving in any sort of vehicle was, for our delegation, a tense adventure! We saw a lot of horses carrying loads up steep streets and thought it looked a much more stable arrangement than using an automobile.

Each delegate was settled in a different host family's home, except for Sharon and me. Because of my illness, I was transferred from sharing a bed with Carrie at Letty's home, to my own room at Otto & Basilia's. This turned out, because of the personalities of my host family, to be perfect for me. Carrie was, at first, panicked by this change. She was counting on me to interpret for her! Carrie and I are chums, and I was looking forward to bunking with her. But God sent her consolation in the form of Carlita: 

Carlita is 5 and Carlita became Carrie's teacher and companion and friend. They drew pictures (there is nothing like a child for drawing pictures) and taught each other the names of the things they sketched. Carrie was loved and cared for by her assigned family, and she has come out fairly sure that things were the way they ought to have been.

On Monday afternoon, we were privileged to have Father Miguel, the rector of the San Andres Itzapa and of another church in nearby Chimaltenango; they share him. He came specifically that day to talk about something that has proved central to our understanding of this people, and that is Christian syncretism.

It's hard for me to give the full scoop on this vital issue. Articles, books could be written. And certainly, another blog post. But the essentials to know are these:
1. The folks in SAI are mainly indigenous Mayan-heritage people.
2. From the oldest to the youngest who spoke with me on the topic (a young teen), they believe fervently that the Mayan ancestors ("abuelitos") are still a force in the world, that their spirits are all around them, and that these spirits guard them and watch out for them in everything.
3. This belief in the intercession of the ancestors is central to Mayan identity and spirituality. There are groups who have drawn folks away from the old traditions and practices (notably, the evangelical sects of Christianity which proliferate in Latin America), but most Catholic and similar forms of traditional Christianity have made their peace with a certain degree of syncretism.

What Padre Miguel told us I have been mulling in my mind ever since. He said that he does not view the practices of his parishioners as being in conflict with Christianity. They do not invoke spirits to hurt their enemies, they do not worship spirits as Gods. According to Padre Miguel, there are two main values which traditional Mayan beliefs encourage. One is care for the environment, and the second is veneration for the ancestors, neither of which, Pardre Miguel believes, are in conflict with Christianity. He encourages his parishioners to practice their traditions with whole hearts full of love for Creation, which, he believes, will make them better followers of God.

The same could be said for us all, it seems to me!

Anyway, I will continue to mull over this topic and may reflect further, later. For now, the rest of the afternoon.

After the discussion, we were able to meander a bit in the street...

a little light shopping

San Andres Itzapa

Brian & Don Otto, who always wore his hat.

And visit the shrine of a local saint, San Simon, otherwise known as Maximon. Guys... this saint is bizarre. He seems to be a saint who incorporates attributes of an ancient Mayan deity. On the one hand, the RC church does not approve of or recognize him. On the other, the people here seem to venerate him deeply. They wait in lines to commune with him and petition his prayers at this shrine. The air is full of cigar smoke, as a Mayan tradition encourages cigar smoking as a form of prayer. 

This was a Not-In-Kansas-Anymore moment for me, to be sure. 

But I want to share something mysterious and lovely. Before I left. I was paging through the Spanish Language Book of Common Prayer that I'd purchased for the trip, looking for a prayer to give words to my heart. I happened upon this prayer for "Confianza y Tranquilidad" (Confidence and Tranquility) and knew that was just the prayer for that hour. I prayed it. I took an instagram, for crying out loud. The prayer goes, 

Por Confianza y Tranquilidad.

OH Dios de paz, que nos has enseñado que en el arrepentimiento y descanso espiritual seremos salvos, y en la tranquilidad y la confianza consistirá nuestra fortaleza; Levántanos por el poder de tu Espíritu, te suplicamos, a tu presencia, en donde podamos contemplarte en silencio y saber que Tú eres Dios; mediante Jesucristo nuestro Señor. Amén.

English Translation: 


For Quiet Confidence
O God of peace, who hast taught us that in returning and
rest we shall be saved, in quietness and confidence shall be
our strength: By the might of thy Spirit lift us, we pray thee,
to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou
art
art God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

That was the prayer of my fearful heart before leaving. Tranquilidad! That's what I need, above all! Well, on this Monday afternoon, I waited in line to pay my respects to the Saint. Once at the shrine, Jacinta, one of the SAI Episcopal church members, prayed over us. She put some kind of substance (I suspect alcoholic) which was available at the saint's feet on us, which weirded me out a bit, but then she prayed for us, over us, and as she touched my shoulders, she murmured over and over the word, "tranquilidad." I got goosebumps. I felt like the gift I'd asked for was being conferred that moment. 

Here in this neon-lit, cigar-smoke-filled shrine, I felt answered by God. The week was full of moments like that. 

Back at Don Otto & Basilia's home, after dinner (which I ate, if insufficiently), the preparations began for our first Mayan ceremony. 

From left to right: Dona Basilia (my hostess & new abuela), Dona Lucia, and Dona Letty.

The candles had to be sorted, the strings untangled, the corn mold unpacked, and a fire started. The details of the ceremony are very important. We are preparing to commune with ancestors whom we welcome as guests. These folks believe the ancestors are still capable of enjoying things, so we offer them a variety of refreshments for their visit, including honey, corn, cigar smoke, and liquor.

Maureen jumped right in to help. Have I mentioned how much I admire Maureen?

Dona Jacinta might be the most knowledgeable about these ceremonies. 

As the women prepared the ingredients, Don Otto invoked the participation of the ancestors with the help of a couple of cigars: 

This ceremony was long, but it was so beautiful. I understood it only in part, Don Otto having gotten the ancestors' permission to conduct it in Spanish, rather than Kaqchikel.  The ancestors were introduced to us, and we were informed that they embraced us and were glad of our visit. We offered several items that the ancestors reportedly like, and were given objects to offer after having meditated upon a certain topic (relationships in our lives, things we needed to forgive, etc). One touching moment was the opportunity to send greetings to our own dead forbearers. We were asked to name dead members of our family, I think so that the Mayan ancestors would recognize us by our people. I quietly named my grandfathers (saved my mother for Thursday). And we prayed. 

The fire burned for a few hours, and we lingered long after the ceremony was over to talk and feel its peace and warmth. 

I stole this picture from Carrie, who went on a walk around Guatemala City that I wasn't able to take. But the words are from the Magnificat and pretty much speak to the joy I felt in my deliverance from sickness and fear on Monday and Tuesday. 

By Tuesday night, I was eating with much more gusto. But that's another story.