Playing catch-up

yeah,yeah, yeah. It has been far too long since I have updated. Now everything is going to be the shortened version because, once again I don´t have much time and have experienced so much.
The week after my last update was free travel. My group made it safely to Honduras, found a hotel and stayed the night. The next morning we boarded the Utila Princess, a ferry that would take us to the island. The ferry was   enclosed and the water was rough... so a lot of people were getting sick. I think my dramamine from the day before was still in my system, because for once I felt fine.
We got to Utila in the late morning, and walked around for probably 45 minutes in the heat of the day with our packs on, trying to find some of the hotels we had looked up. We finally found one for a reasonable price, $120 for the 4 of us for the week, which included a shared bathroom, "hot water", and a kitchen. It was about a 5 or 10 minute walk from the center of town, and 15 minutes from the beach. It was a little far away, but the money we saved would let us do all sorts of other activities, and walking is healthy, right?!
We quickly dumped our stuff in our rooms and took off for the beach. As we were walking around and seeing all the nice hotels that were much closer, we started to regret our choice of being so far away... but there was nothing we could do about it, we´d already paid for the full week.
When we got to the beach we couldn´t quite believe it. There was a short strip of sand, and some clear blue shallow water, but no waves. We kept walking, then, determined to find a real beach, with real waves. We made it all the way to the end of the island with no luck, no other beaches. Everyone was very quiet, and it was a tense walk. I kept thinking to myself... ohh gracious, this is going to be a long week, we are already bored.
That first day we walked almost the entire island, searching for other beaches, and most importantly, waves. We had no luck though, the carribean water was clear and beautiful and calm beyond belief.
That night we returned to the hotel a little disappointed, but determined to have a good time anyway. It didn´t help that we hadn´t yet exchanged money, and were living on almost nothing because we only had $$.
That night we found that there was an ant infestation in my bed, the toilet didn´t flush very well, the hot water was a lie, the sink flooded the bathroom whenever used, and there was a huge rat in the kitchen that ate any snacks we left unguarded.
But it was a good night. We laughed a lot, rigged up some fans on the front porch and played card games late into the night. Every day we basically just relaxed. Tuesday we spent the whole day snorkeling (we even saw a sea turtle!) Thursday we trecked to a private beach that was absolutely beautiful... all other time was spent relaxing in the hotel or on the beach, or eating in beautiful and delicious restaurants. No one else was in our hotel until Wednesday night, and having it to ourselves gave us so much freedom and we felt we had made the right decision with the hotel. The other guests who joined Wednesday, though, really put a damper on our fun, with their loud drunken rants and chain smoking. Every day we hoped they wouldn´t be there when we got back.
Over all though, the week was beautiful and relaxing. Every day was sunny and clear, and every night was filled with journaling, reading, card games, and a lot of laughing.
Before we knew it we were headed back to Guatemala city, bug bitten, tan, and tired.
We spent 2 days in Guate doing laundry, checking email, looking at pictures and catching up with everyone we hadn´t seen for the last week. Then we headed to Chiapas.
Salvador Urbina is a coffee growing community in the mountains of Chiapas, Mexico, right along the border of Mexico and Guatemala. It is hot and sticky and rainy there this time of year, but it was beautiful none the less.
We lived in groups of 2 to 4 people with host families from the Café Justo Cooperative. They were nervous about keeping American students in their houses, worried that we would be uncomfortable because of their lack of "American comodities" such as showers, toilet seats, flushable toilets, and because we wouldn´t like their food. The family that I stayed with, Hernan and Marquita Cifuentes, were incredibly generous with we 4 girls who stayed with them. We were given the 2 best rooms with the 4 best beds, while the other 6 people living in the house were crammed into the one other room, sleeping on mattresses on the floor.
Almost every day we had activities planned through Café Justo, visiting a coffee parcela, traveling into Tapachula to see an organization called Jesú Christo al Buen Pastor, hiking in a Mariposario to a beautiful waterfall, visiting the elementary school, the clinic, and the library.
All our other time, though, was spent with our families. The Cifuentes family is related to almost everyone in Salvador Urbina it seems like, and there were always people in the house. Our parents were an older couple with 8 children who were all grown and had their own families, 6 of which lived in the community. There were always at least 5 children in the house, all wanting to play games. We taught them secret hand shakes and games like pass the cup, miss mary mack and other games of that sort, we played volleyball, soccer, and basketball, and learned games that they taught us. My 15 year old host neice asked if I could leave Lucas there for her, in return she offered her 6 year old cousin Jhorib to me, since he already thought I was his girlfriend. I jokingly agreed, and from then on there were jokes whenever Lucas came by the house.
We became so close to our family in such a short amount of time that it was really tough to leave. They kept asking when we would come back, asking for invitations to our weddings, whenever they may be, writing down phone numbers and emails. The morning that we left our whole family started crying, which of course started all of us crying too. There were hugs and blessings and then it was time to go.
Now we are back in Guatemala for our last little bit of the trip. We are leaving this afternoon for Antigua for Semana Santa, or Holy Week. There will be lots of processions and the streets will be decorated. I am so anxious to get home though, hopefully I won´t wish this week away. This week also holds final presentations, and mine is tomorrow. Hopefully after that I will be able to focus on where I am, appreciate the beauty, and prepare myself for saying goodbye to this beautiful country.
I am almost done, and I can´t believe it.
I will be seeing you all soon!
Blessings,
Jenn

The end... and a new beginning

I AM FINISHED!
With my 8 weeks of Spanish classes anyway. Today I took my final exam, tomorrow is a class presentation called Clausura... we´ll see how that goes, but really in my mind today was the last bit of uphill road, and now I am descending. Finally.
8 weeks of 4 hours of spanish class everyday, and little freedom even on our free afternoons had begun to wear me down. But now it is on to free travel!
Free travel is sparking a whole new set of worries in me though. I am going with 3 other people to the tropical island of Utila. It takes 12 hours by bus to get there, so we are leaving for the bus station at 3:30 AM, then we´ll have to stay in a hotel in La Ceiba before getting up bright and early to get to the ferry around 5 AM the next morning.
OH! And none of the cheap hotels on Utila take reservations.... sooo we are just going to show up, walk around with all our stuff, and find a hotel with vacancies. Hopefully it shouldn´t be tough, but for someone like me... not having plans is a little stressful.
It is a growing experience, growing experience... etc. etc. That´s my mantra.
This past weekend was our last free weekend with our host families, it also happened to be my host mom´s father´s birthday, so we went to pay a surprise visit. PS: my host mom is from Honduras!
So we all hopped in the car and took off for Honduras on Saturday morning after my host dad finished his turno at work. It was about a 7 hour drive- add two hungry, crying babies and you have yourself an adventure! No, but really it was a good time. Honduras is absolutely beautiful, we were in San Pedro Sula, it was hot and sticky and rainy and everything was green. I met a LOT of extended family, ate a lot of good food, and spent most of my waking weekend in the car.
This week has been nice and relaxing after the busy weekend. We finished up all our class material, so we spent the last few days planning and practicing our clausura, reviewing for the test, and playing games. Kathryn and I began our mission for the next month: Eat as many mangos as possible so that when we return home... we no longer love them, crave them, or even want to think about them.
During this mission we are also determined to find out how many mangos it is humanely possible to eat before digestion is negatively effected. So far, so good. Yesterday we went across the pasarela and each bought a few mangos to start out our mission... each cost Q2.75 ... a little more than 25 cents. YUM
Tonight and tomorrow I have to say goodbye to my family here. It is so hard to believe that I have spent 8 weeks with them already. I so clearly remember that first night here, I was so uncomfortable and literally on the verge of tears every time I thought of home. I didn´t think I would make it. But what a wonderful experience it has been - I have been so blessed to spend so much time with one family, getting to know them and feel included in their daily lives.
So that is my agenda: Pack everything, say goodbye, do clausura, go to Utila, find somewhere to live.
                                                             
Things I will miss from Guatemala:
The lady at the coke stand
My host sisters (and finding Eva messing with all my stuff in my room... then acting innocent and saying she was doing "nana")
Mangos
The simple satisfaction of getting a seat on the bus
The man who runs past me in the mornings and tries to practice his english
Chocobananos
Edna, my spanish teacher, and all her silly quirks
Jacaranda trees (which are in full bloom right now!)
PIBAMA smoothies (piña, banano, y mango) for a little over $1
The guy at the grocery store who knows me by name and practices his english while I practice spanish
the weather
FRIJOLES
mucho mucho mucho mas. 


Things I won´t miss:
whistles and stares
smog
packed buses and hands on my butt
guns
4 hours of class
... un poquito mas
                                                                                            
And a funny story for your enjoyment:
On Tuesday night I went to Lucas´s house for dinner because his family wanted to meet me. Many of you proabably know my nervous... thing... of blushing. Ugh. Maybe it was because I was nervous, or still had a little fever, or maybe it was a weird reaction to the Chloroquin I had just taken... at any rate, my face felt like it was burning.
Lucas´s older brother Diego asked me "¿Por que tu cara esta roja?¿ Estas nerviosa?" - why is your face red, are you nervous?
And Lucas, laughing at my now even REDDER (because all the attention was on me) face says 
"No, no, no, su cara siempre esta roja, especialmente cuando ella esta EMBARASADA" - no no no, her face is always red, especially when she is pregnant. PREGNANT. .... and I knew this was coming as soon as he started the sentence, so I was just sitting there frantically shaking my head saying "no nonnonononono. AVERGONZADA"
Embarasada is just one of those cursed words that sounds like what you think you want to say, but means something totally different.
Needless to say everyone was laughing, my face was ridiculously red, and Lucas was just a little confused. Once I had stopped laughing enough to let him know the difference in the words, we all started laughing again.
oooooh cultural and language differences.

This might be it for a while, OFF TO HONDURAS!
blessings,
-Jenn

Words.

I have been searching, searching, searching for words to write the last 2 weeks. But there are none, for a variety of reasons.
I even started writing a blog entry multiple times - but no words would come to mind.
My heart is heavy and often times my mind is far from what we are doing in Guatemala; thoughts of home almost constantly distract me from where I am. I don´t like it, I want so badly to be present... but right now that is hard.
I thrive with routines, but right now I am so weary of them. We have been in the same place, doing the same thing day after day for nearly 2 months now. While our time here is almost over, and I anxiously await a change of pace, I am starting to realize that I will miss some things, and some of the structure.
It is amazing to me how different my level of comfort is now than it was when we first arrived. Routines develop quickly, something new and strange quickly becomes the norm.
What am I going to do when I no longer have little sisters waiting for me at home? I am going to miss holding Esther so much, and laughing at the silly 2 year old antics of Eva. But I am also ready to have a true space of my own, and not have to hide anything fragile or of value high on a shelf incase Eva sneaks into my room during the day.
Mixed feelings mixed feelings.
This past weekend our group visited Santiago Atitlan and Panajachel, two towns around the shore of Lago Atitlan. We visited a coffee cooperative that gave us whole mangos as snack and talked about land issues and growing coffee (which I drink wayyy more of than is healthy). We also visited a town called Panaj, which suffered under the hands of the military during the 30some year war here in Guatemala. Then, after the war was finished, in 2005 there was a tragic mudslide which destroyed nearly the entire village overnight. Families woke up without houses, children woke up without families. The government promised housing, and provided "temporary housing" ... which has now been in use for 6 years. Little plastic shacks housing up to 9 or 10 people in a single room... while right next door are half built cement houses that have been prohibited because they are in a "high risk area".
The world makes me angry.
Also... how had I never heard about a war that lasted more than 3 decades!? So many innocent people were killed, tourtured, disappeared... all because of racial prejudice. These things need to be taught, even here, many people don´t understand the war that plagued their own country... while they were alive!
Ignorance does not teach peace, it frustrates me that such acts can be committed and forgotten by the world. People are still suffering, people are still struggling to provide what was taken from them years ago. And everyone else has moved on.
I am growing weary. We learn so much of violence, desolation, destruction... I am eager to learn of hope, of justice, and of restoration.

                                                                                         
In other news. Guatemala is beautiful as always, it is becoming mango season which I love. The weather is confusing me, some days are hot to the point of discomfort while others plunge into the 70s (gasp! so cold!) The beauty of the flowers and birds and trees will be greatly missed when we leave. Though I have to say, I will NOT be missing roosters. at all.
I am also afraid that I will miss the food here. Wow, it is so delicous! Every day, with few exceptions, I eat a breakfast of an egg and a pile of mashed beans and tortillas. Then for supper I have an egg (fried a different way) some beans and tortillas. Often there are fried plantains along with the beans. And Coffee of course, and champuradas to dip into my coffee. (I have been drinking mas o menos 5 cups of coffee a day. yikes!)
I was promised that upon my return to the US I would be too skinny for my jeans... but it appears that I am having more of the opposite problem. I can´t wait to try to make the food on my own for my family and friends! I had my host mom teach me to make plantains and beans the way she does, and I learned to make tortillas in class. But i fear that they will never taste as good as they do here.
I literally could eat them every day, for every meal... and I do.

Also, it is now the season of Lent. Since high school I have approached Lent differently than I used to. I grew to realize that the "giving up" of something did not serve to bring me closer to God. I didn´t pray whenever I craved what I was giving up, and I didn´t challenge myself to find joy - instead I became resentful of the season. So since high school I have challenged myself to add a devotional time, or increase my devotional time during Lent. I am doing this again this year, and it is more of a challenge than ever. As I wrote before, I have been struggling to let go of my control and give things up to God. And so, in the hecticness of dull every day routines, I am searching for God daily, and I am forcing myself to add devotional time to read and to pray and to listen. And it is hard. I can´t describe the sense of relief and joy that I felt when I finally picked up my Bible again after these 2 months of neglecting it. I felt at peace and I knew that spending time with God was exactly what I needed to be doing. So I know that I am headed in the right direction, but it is a daily fight within myself.

so that is all that is going on aquí en Guatemala. 
blessings.
-jenn

525,600

This morning I woke up with RENT in my head, and it still hasn´t left.
"525,600 minutes,

525,000 moments so dear. 

525,600... how do you measure, measure a year? 

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights in cups of coffee?

In inches, in miles, in laughter and strife?" ...

Life flies by, minutes used to seem longer, and now they pass without me realizing it. How have I been measuring my time here? It is different than in the US, that is for sure. Here I measure time in classes, tortillas, mangos, chocobananos, Grey´s Anatomy episodes, actually HOT showers, laundry days, days without running water, sunburns, bugbites.... the list goes on.
Life is the same, but different in so many ways. I have learned to appreciate the small things... but have a really learned to appreciate simplicity? Because let me tell you, I day dream about my closet at home and ALL the clothes that will be available to me, I dream about 20 minute  -high pressured showers, about airconditioning, and eating an entire box of mint chocolate chip icecream in one sitting.
So this makes me question... am I really, truly, actually learning here? Am I actually soaking in the information and the experiences, and realizing the ways in which my actions affect others? Or in my mind am I still only on vacation? I hate that I even have to ask myself that, because I am learning so much, and my heart aches for the situations and the people that I encounter. And I want to make a difference, and I want to help... but when I return home... will I remember? Will I change the way I live? How will I measure my life once I am back to my "normal"?

This past week was finals week for us here at CASAS... we have already finished with one semester of Spanish! We took the exam on Thursday, it was a little nerve wracking to say the least. But after that we all had a relaxing weekend to look forward to.
We spent Thursday night at Semilla (CASAS) and left for the airport at 7 am Friday morning... this was a great improvement, because we were supposed to leave at 5 am. The plane we took was itty bitty tiny, and it was only about a 45 minute flight, then a 45 minute drive to TIKAL. We spend Friday meandering around in the Tikal park, learning about and climbing many many Mayan Temples and other ruins. The temperature in Petén (where Tikal is located) seemed to be about 100 degrees hotter than here in the city, and the humidity was insane. We were all sweating profusely and chugging water, but no one could resist climbing the ruins... even though we did, literally, hundreds of steps.
What a beautiful place Tikal is. If you haven´t already, you should check out the pictures on the EMU website, I am sure there will be plenty more later, on Facebook, if you want to wait for them.
The rest of the weekend was spent at out hotel, the Gringo Perdido (lost white man). I slept in a little cabaña where the front wall was plastic, and we rolled it up so that we could see the lake day and night, we were only about 20 feet from the water. There were hammocks and kayaks and horses, and people spent the weekend relaxing and swimming and partaking in other adventures offered by the little town. Many people came back sunburnt, luckily I did not... and thanks to that 70 SPF sunscreen (mom) I hardly even got a tan ;)
This week it is back to classes and lectures. I have now moved up to Avanzado 1... but I don´t know the result of my test yet... it would be mortifying if I completely failed it and had to move back down to Intermedio 2... but I don´t think that will be the case.
Being a pefectionist in a different culture with a different language is hard. I am only now realizing that if I don´t give it up, I will learn nothing. Because of this sudden realization I am finally connecting more with my host family, and even though I make far more mistakes now than I did before, I have more confidance in my ability.
We are about halfway through with our trip... and plans for freetravel are beginning to be made. The idea of going off without leaders is a bit frightening... but I am sure I´ll be ready enough for a break that I won´t even mind.
Well it is lunch time. I think that my stomach is expanding... because I am finding that I am almost always hungry, and can pack away far more food than I would in the US. Everything is so delicious though that I don´t even care.
Tenga un buen dia! I love and miss you all!
-Jenn

Guatemalan Time...

Life is busy, even on Guatemalan time. I come to school, have classes, have break, have classes, eat lunch, have classes, and return home. On weekends there is always one activity or another, and I am running once again. Life has been hectic, but for me it is a good hectic... I thrive with routines and the expected. But I am learning to adjust to the unexpected, to Guatemalan time, to the importance of relationships over schedules.
Time is flying by due to the busyness of routines, and in 2 weeks we will be halfway finished with this adventure.
So... what can I write about that will be of any interest?
Tomorrow we leave at 6 am for the beach, where we will spend the day and return in the evening. The beach in February! And I hear that the water is almost insanely warm :) I can barely wait.
Tonight was one of those unexpected times that I am learning to adjust to. A member of our group was invited to a Discoteca by her family, and wanted some fellow group members as company. A few of us decided to go along, and called a taxi to pick us up at CASAS at 8:20. All spruced up and ready to leave, we were walking out to meet the taxi when we were informed by Rigoberto (the gatekeeper/general maintance guy at CASAS) that the gate is locked at 10, and we couldn´t get back in after that... welllll that seemed to change our plans a little. The taxi was there with the meter running, though, and the discoteca was in zone 10, which we all assumed was al lado (next to) zone 11, where we are staying. So we got in the taxi and decided that we would just go for a little over an hour, and then come back. Well... it turns out that zone 10 is no where near zone 11... we went through zone 12 and 13... maybe even 9 before we got there... at 9 pm. We decided that paying an entrance fee for 30 minutes was a little foolish, and didn´t even get out of the cab. It was interesting to explain to the driver that we just needed to turn around and go back home.
Good news though... we laughed a lot and made friends with a cab driver. And we are all safe and will get more sleep tonight than we would have otherwise. Win-win... right?
Maybe my time here is also teaching me the power of positive thinking ;)... or maybe thats just the relief talking... discotecas aren´t really my thing.

Every Wednesday afternoon the group meets to have class with Byron and Deanna. This week we talked about group dynamics, confrontation styles, and how we are feeling at this point in the trip, we also had a worship time as a group. During this time Audrey shared about her faith experience so far on the trip, she shared about consciously searching for God every day. This reminded me of a habit that I used to have... during my struggles junior year I was challenged by a friend to find God at least once a day in everyday life. I was amazed at how easily God could be found when I was actively searching for him. I have since forgotten that habit, and here I sometimes struggle to see God... of course I am often not actually looking. Where is God in the faces of dirty, hungry children begging for food? Where is God in the discrimination and racism that is so prevelent here in Guatemala? Where is God when I am overwhelmed by strange culture and strange language and loneliness?

Where is God here in Guatemala?

I was challenged by Audrey´s words... I need to start actively searching for God, in the smiles of the ladies here who cook for us, in the hugs I recieve at my church here, in the patience every has with me and my silly mistakes.
God is so many places... there is loneliness, and there is pain and discrimination... but there are also every day angels- and I have been forgetting to see them. So there... it is publicly stated as my challenge to myself - find God tomorrow, and every other day of this trip.

Next week we have our final exam for Spanish class... before (hopefully) moving up to the next level. Exams here are hard... really hard. Especially because they involve a spoken section... where we each have to talk for 10 minutes, mas o menos to our teacher... alone... in Spanish. Knowing that we are being evaluated and graded. Intimidating to say the least. They haven´t gone entirely well so far.... so the thought of a final exam is terrfying because we have double the amount of work... more than that actually because we have to talk for 15 minutes to 2 different maestras. I don´t know if I can do it, but I´ll have to.

What else, what else... It has been a long time since I updated, and it´s tough to remember everything.
Last weekend we drove a ridiculously mountainous trail to the small  Mayan town of Chichicastenango. There we visited a women´s cooperative called The Ruth and Noehmi project. These indigenous women had been victims of discrimination and survivors of civil war and violent murders. They have not allowed themselves to be victimized though, they have taken initiative and fought for their rights. They were inspiring; not only do they care for their families, and work, but they weave and create beautiful handmade crafts; scarves, blankets, skirts, purses, wallets... so many things, all beautiful and brightly colored. These women were full of smiles and laughter, and when they giggled over a joke, even though we needed 2 translators to understand them... it felt as though we weren´t separated by language or culture or age or circumstance. In that moment I could understand them perfectly... And let me tell you, I want to be like those women when I am old. I want to surround myself with friends, and have deep laugh lines, and not let my past or my problems define me. I want to be strong and laughing, just like those women.
We also went to the Chichi market - which is huge, and filled with tourists. All the tourists stuck out like sore thumbs, dressed as if they were on safari, and screaming slow english phrases... as though the wall separating them from the venders was a hearing imparement rather than a language. I cringed with every person we passed... and I hated it. I didn´t like being in a place with tourists, and I didn´t like sticking out and looking like a tourist, I just waned to fit in.
It was in Chichi that I realized... I am a tourist here. I stick out, people assume things about me because of my nationality, because of my clothes, because of my skin, because of my accent and lack of spanish. I am a tourist, and I hate it.
This blog post could go on forever, but no one wants that. I´ll try to update more often rather than trying to fit it all into one post.
I had an interesting morning on the bus yesterday, even more so than the normal ¨strange man´s hand on butt¨scenario. I´m not gonna write about it here though, it would take far too long. But! feel free to ask me about it in 10 weeks when I´m back home :p... that´s right, only 10 weeks!
I finally got some mail that was sent to me in January :) Thank you mama and Rose, you guys make me smile.
I miss you all!
much love,
-Jenn

Today is the start of week two with my host family here in Guatemala. Every day we have Spanish class from 8:30 until 12:30, then lunch followed by afternoon activities, which are different every day.
I am relieved to finally be getting into a routine, life seems easier when the events of each day are slightly predictable.
So- where can I start? We flew into Guatemala city last Tuesday and spent the night at CASAS. Wednesday morning was greeted bright and early by the sounds of children screaming, dogs barking, and bus/car horns honking. What a noisy city this is. Wednesday we had a Spanish diagnostic exam followed by classes until lunch. My maestra is a woman, my guess is that she is in her mid 50´s, named Edna. She is small and seemed stern at first, but turns out to be a hilarious, feisty woman. She is always making jokes, and laughing at silly mistakes made in class.
Thursday we continued our spanish classes, and in the afternoon we were pìcked up by host families. Everyone else´s name was called, and they hugged and kissed their family members before leaving Semilla to their new homes. Everyone except for me. As I stood awkwardly to the side of these greetings, I was informed that... no, my family hadn´t forgotten me, they were only running late - which is understandable seeing that my father is a pediatric doctor, and my mom stays at home with their 2 babies, a 20 month old and a 3 month old - both girls.
My mom finally showed up, about an hour late, and I gratefully followed behind her as we went to my new home.
Living with a host family is a valuable experience - though at times I struggle with loneliness. Each day I struggle to think bilingualy - and let me tell you, it is exhausting. By the time I have formulated an answer to the question... the conversation has changed twice... and I no longer have any idea what we are talking about.
I sleep well each night because my brain is so tired of running in circles - so in that way it is a blessing.
Last weekend our group visited the Palacio Nacional, which was built to house the president, but now is only used for official business, a cathedral, and the central market. Seeing the grandeur of the Palacio directly next to the market and beggars made it so obvious to me the economic discrepancies in this country, which we continue to learn about in our history/cultural studies.
Yesterday, then, we visited the public cemetary and the dump. The cemetary is huge, with mosoleums the size of houses, each ornately decorated and left with flowers. There were also stretches of walls, at least 20 feet tall stretching for what seemed like miles. The wall was filled with ¨niches¨, where people could rent a place to keep their relative´s body for up to 14 years. After 14 years, though, they had to move the remains and make space for others.
The dump was, to say the least, a sobering experience. It was massive, we were on a ledge far far above it, and still the smell was putrid. Inside the dump people scrambled, looking through bags for recyclable material, metal, food, anything they could sell or use in their lives. And they have to pay to do so. Here in Guate we don´t flush toilet paper... it all goes into the trash - and these people were PAYING to dig through it, in hopes of finding something of value. The thought is overwhelmingly sad.... but apparently it works out well for them - because so many people were there.
Well... I have hogged the internet for long enough, and afternoon classes are going to start soon.
I would welcome any emails or comments, its always great to hear from home.
-jenn

Borderlands.

I don't know where to start, that's all I can think right now. I spent the last week in Agua Prieta, Mexico with the group as we studied about immigration. Each day felt like a week, and I learned so much that writing about everything would be impossible, so I will just stick to the basics.
We left Tucson, AZ last Saturday morning, and arrived in Douglas, AZ in the afternoon. On our way to Douglas we stopped for two hours in Ambos Nogales (meaning both Nogales), where we experienced our first taste of Mexico. We crossed the border and ambled around for two hours in small groups; purchasing food and souvenirs at our leisure before crossing back into the U.S. and driving the rest of the way.
In Douglas we met with those from Frontera De Christo who would be guiding us for the week, then we crossed into Mexico yet again.
Over the week we spent each filled day traveling around Agua Prieta hearing from organizations about their work with migrants. We heard from CAME which is an organization that feeds and houses migrants from both directions; those heading north to cross the border, and those who have been deported and are traveling home. While staying there, people are informed about the dangers of crossing, and are advised not to, though not forced. We also visited CRREDA which is an organization working with addicts who are working to overcome their vices. CRREDA does not receive funding from the government or from any church/faith based organizations, instead they do community service to provide food, shelter, and other funding for the current 78 (I think) members. While we were there the youngest member was an 11 year old boy who was a self-proclaimed alcoholic. He voluntarily entered the program for fear that continued use would lead to something even more harmful. What kind of life leads an 11 year old to alcoholism?My heart ached for him.
CRREDA was an inspiring organization - every 15 days the men go into the desert with trucks bearing huge tanks of water. They have several smaller tanks placed on a well known migrant trail, and they must go out and fill them once or twice a month. Every so often some of the men camp out with the water for several days, when migrants come along the trail they too advise them of the dangers the desert brings.
We walked in the Sonoran desert along this same migrant trail. We walked in an often used dry riverbed, where the sand was deep and our feet sank, making walking difficult. It only took 20 minutes to get to the wall from where we started, but already I was tired, hot, sweaty, thirsty, and grouchy. I can imagine how people can walk for hours in conditions where the temperature is above 100 degrees, even in the dark, and they are forced to walk blindly through the thorn bushes I so gingerly avoided. What kind of poverty forces someone to leave their beloved homeland to trudge through these hell-like conditions to enter a land where people reject them? My heart ached for them.
That same night we participated in a vigil. Tommy Bassett (one of the Frontera-ers) arrived with crates of white crosses in the back of his pickup. Each cross held a name, a birth date, and a death date, except for the crosses which simply said "no identification". Each of us carried several crosses, and as we walked the border the leader of the line would hold up their cross and call out the name. We would each call back, loudly, "PRESENTE!". Then we would walk past the person holding the cross, to sidewalk squares later, the next person would call out their name... and so on and so forth. There were hundreds of crosses laying on the curb when we were finished; each representing a person who had died in the desert while crossing. hundreds. Some were young, 18 years old, some were older in their 50s. This vigil was probably the most meaningful experience of the week for me.
As I walked down the sidewalk I looked down, I was cradling the crosses as though they were babies. As I read the name on the top cross, it hit me. This was somebody's baby. Someone had carried this person, had loved them, had cleaned their scrapes and cooked for them. Maybe this person had babies of their own - babies that they though the world of, children who they couldn't provide for with the Mexican economy. Maybe that was why they were crossing. My mind raced with these possibilities... each of these names represented someones loved one. Where were these families now, who was providing for them now? What if they never learned what had happened to their son/father/brother/sister/mother/daughter. What did they feel when they did learn? My heart ached for them. I felt weighed down by the weight of their grief. What if it had been my family? I think of it every day... especially because even now there are migrants in the desert - in the hot days and freezing nights... will they all make it? Or will someone else lose their baby?
All of that, with the exception of CAME was in one day - Tuesday. Obviously I can't sit here and type about everything, and I am sure that you wouldn't want to read the would-be product.
Some other things we did:
Visit a maquiladora (factory)
Live for a day on a maquila factory (12 of us had 270 pesos total, which is about $25, for three meals).
Visit the border patrol
Visit with a Christian border patrol agent
Attend a church service & eat lunch with Lirio de Los Valles (Lily of the Valley church)
Visit the migrant resource center
Eat dinner with nuns
Learn about New Tribes Mission Aviation
Eat in community of DouglaPrieta and learn about their search for self-sufficiency
Visit an electronics recycling warehouse
Visit Cafe Justo
Learn about Border Action
... and probably other things that I can't think of right now, because I don't have the list with me.
It was a very full week, which helped me sleep well... ish. We stayed at the Nueva Esperanza (New Hope) Community Center in Agua Prieta. Though the outside temperature is in the 70's or 80's during the day - it easily drops to around 30 when the sun went down. The community center relied on several small wall heaters to keep the air inside warm...ish. We slept on airmatresses on the floor, curled up under blankets for whatever warmth we could find. It wasn't uncomfortably cold, but it certainly wasn't what I would call comfortable. Especially on Monday night when, just as we were climbing into bed all the heaters shut off - we had run out of the gas used to run them. That night was pretty chilly.
So - that is a taste of our week, it is missing much, but you will just have to ask me in 3 months... and I'll tell you about it then.
For now we are back to the same hotel in Tucson - relaxing until our plane leaves on Tuesday for Guatemala. We don't have any agenda while we are here this time, except to finish our reading and journaling assignments - which the majority of us have been working on out by the pool - in shorts and tank tops, maybe jumping into the water to cool off. Because it is hot. Jealous yet? : D

I am working on a list of things that I am thankful for - some more seriously than others. But I thought I'd share that too... while I'm at it.
1. The privileges/rights I have because of my skin color/ citizenship.
2. Toilet paper (AND toilets where you can flush the toilet paper... which are not found in Mexico)
3. Singing games during long drives
4. That Lucas is along on the trip to keep me smiling
5. The weather in Arizona (and Mexico)
6. Hot tubs after a long week
7. SHOWERS (especially hot ones with good water pressure)
8. Beds and pillows
9. Green plants/grass
10. Beans. (surprisingly, I'm not tired of them yet)
11. Tortillas. (flour & corn tortillas... so wonderful)
12. Rice(blah)
13. Mexican hot dog stands... they seriously have the best hot dogs I've ever tasted.
       Our last night in Agua Prieta Tommy (mentioned above) took us out to Clemente's hot dog stand... I ordered "un con todos" (one with everything) which included: a potato bun, a hot dog wrapped in bacon,mayonnaise, fried onions, raw onions, red & green chili, baked beans, guacamole, tomato, and mustard. All for a little over a dollar.  Delicious.
Luckily for you, that's all for now :)
Vaya con Dios.
-Jenn