One week we’ve been in La Cama
(turns out that is its name, not La Toma), the little remote Mayan village high
in the Guatemalan mountains. It is COLD here at night (glad I have my scarf!),
but the sun burns you during the day. We are staying at the house of the pastor
of the local church here. Pastor Manuel and his family – ok, the whole community here – have been
incredibly gracious to us, and I have never before felt like such an honored
guest. I have another blog coming about their generosity, so you can get the
details there, but suffice to say we have been so humbled by their sacrifices
and giving. In addition to their generosity, these Mayans are just a wonderful
group of people who seem to enjoy and celebrate life even though they lack so
much physically and materially. Their children are really funny and cute, and
have nicknamed me “El Leon” – The Lion. I’m pretty sure they have never seen a
man with so much hair (and facial hair), and when I have my hair pushed back
with Stephanie’s bandana, I suppose I do look a bit lion-ish. Of course, I do
my best to live up to that name by chasing the kids and roaring. They act
terrified, but they love me…I think.
In addition to the work in La Cama,
we have been able to travel to two other cities. Last Sunday we went to
Chichicastanango, an absolutely massive Mayan market with everything imaginable
to purchase. For me, a guy who is overwhelmed by nice clean American outlet
malls, it was dumbfounding. Imagine a typical Mexican market with all the
price-haggling and way-too-persistent vendors…then crank it up by a factor of
like a bajillion. Add that to the sensory overload and the gag-inducing exhaust
and fumes from buses and trucks, and you have Chichicastanango. I’m glad we
went and I experienced it, but once was enough. On Wednesday we got the chance
to go to the city of Panajachel and the lake it sits on, Lake Atitlan. The lake
is huge huge huge and is surrounded by a volcanic mountain range. It was pretty
crazy to sit on the edge of the lake and think “Wow. I’m sitting by a beautiful
lake situated between volcanoes in the middle of Guatemala. …And this is just
the beginning.”
We’ve been eating an assortment of
foods; some good, some not so good, and some just kinda weird (pasta shells
with mayonnaise…didn’t know that til I was almost finished). Always though, we
have tortillas. Lots and lots of corn tortillas. The pastor’s wife and daughter
prepare all our meals, and I have been so thankful for that, so I’m doing my
best to clean my plate even if it’s not exactly appetizing or what I’m used to.
I can always fill my belly on tortillas if need be.
The work we’ve been doing has been
construction at the church they are building. Though it is a small church
community, they have big dreams and are building a big church. We have been
doing general labor type work, including moving rocks,
shoveling/wheelbarrowing/moving dirt, cutting rebar, and wiring the pieces of
rebar together. It has been hard work, and my hands have the callouses to show
it, but I have definitely enjoyed the manual labor. We’ve found it’s easy to be
critical of the way some of the work is done, but we’re learning to remind
ourselves that we have no right to push onto them our American norms and way of
doing things. We are here to serve them and we are submitting ourselves to be
under the authority of Pastor Manuel.
I have also really enjoyed being
with the other twelve racers here with me, those from my team as well as Team
Increase. We have gotten along and worked well together, and I think everyone is
starting to understand more about our particular gifts and pieces of the puzzle
we bring to the table. Each night, Word Race teams have a “feedback” time in
which we can process and verbalize things we thought about and experienced
during the day, as well as any constructive criticisms we have for our
teammates. It has been an amazing time of team growth and unity, as well as
encouragement and discipline. Also, since we do feedback time every day to keep
from getting “emotional constipation” (our Squad leader’s term), we decided to
name ours “Fiber Time.”
…can you guess who volunteered that name?
