Oh the piano

I can’t believe it’s November 26 already.  SO crazy.  I get to see my family in 16 days.  I can FINALLY play the piano.  That is one of the things that I’ve missed the most.  Normally I play piano almost every day, even when I’m busy with school.  It’s fun, it’s a great emotional outlet, it’s a way to worship, and it’s simply an extension of my hands.  I’m certainly no prodigy (believe me, I’m really not) but I have played for 15 years and there’s some amount of ability that comes with that longevity.

This was at a composition festival when I was somewhere between 10 and 13.

Without a piano to play, my hands are often restless, and several times throughout the semester I’ve done some really random crafts with whatever I could find around my room, including folding and taping together a miniature Christmas village out of index cards (previously decorated with Latin America history facts) and hand-sewing a doll out of an old tank top .  I’ve done Sudoku, origami, recorded myself singing very mediocre harmonies with myself, attempted to draw, journaled and prayed, and cried when I just wanted to play.  It’s been good to not have a piano because as hard as it’s been, I’ve been forced to come back to God when nothing else is fulfilling my piano-playing needs.

I’m currently in a middle of an interesting little autobiographical book written by an army chaplain, who took literally the idea of giving thanks in every situation—except he changed it a little bit, and I disagree with his approach.  He gave thanks, and instructed others to give thanks for the negative and hard things in life.  If a soldier came to him because he wanted prayer for his impending international employment and the fact that his wife was suicidal, they thanked God for these unfortunate situations.  For this army chaplain and the people he ministered to, this approach worked.  God answered many prayers by changing mindsets, healing situations, and increasing trust—and much joy was the result.  However, it’s confusing to thank God for the negative things in life—and that’s not what the scripture suggests.

In 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, Paul and friends write:

Be joyful always; pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Give thanks IN all circumstances.  God allows hardship in our lives, and I don’t think He expects us to be joyful that our family member passed away without knowing Jesus, or that our best friend has cancer, or that we got in a car accident.  However, He does expect us to trust that His will for our life is greater than anything we can understand, and He teaches us through our experiences, whether good or bad.  When I struggled with illness throughout my entire spring semester, God taught me a lot about letting my joy be dependent on Him and not on my circumstances.  This semester as I grew accustomed to living in a new place and making do without the things I’m used to, God taught me more about being thankful in all circumstances.

Joy is not a new concept for me :)  Oh childhood.

At home in the US, I have a phone and I can call my friends or my family when I need to talk or have a question.  I have easy access to a broom, mop, and sponge for cleaning, and bedbugs and dengue fever aren’t really plausible possibilities.  I can take a shower without keeping my mouth tightly shut to keep the little buggers out.  I can take the car and drive somewhere.  I always have a piano readily available.  I live with my best friends.  Guatemala has been a wonderful experience, but I’ve had to make do without all of these things.  But instead of detracting from my trip, they’ve improved it—because I’ve grown closer to God in the process, and learned yet again that my joy is dependent only on Him, and He doesn’t change.

PS: The next couple weeks I will have lots of free time and I’m really in a blog-post-writing mood.  So, to my myriad of readers (just kidding I don’t think there really are that many), is there anything you would like me to write about?  I’m assuming most of you already know me pretty well and wouldn’t care to see a “10 things you wouldn’t guess about me” post, and as much as I wish I could write like The Everywhereist, another favorite blog (beware: if swearing offends you, don’t visit), my sense of humor is usually not satisfactory for a comedic post.

But still, I want to write.  And I want to write what you want to read.  So please comment and give me ideas—I’m open to anything!!

An everyday adventure

When I started my blog, I also started to read other blogs and now I follow 10-15 different ones.  One of my favorites is a charming blog written by a family friend who’s currently on exchange in Switzerland.  She uses many different formats in her posts, and recently she’s done a few in second person (and by recently I mean October-ish).  When you read the post, you can imagine yourself having the experience and it’s more personal and interesting.  I love that idea, so I’m going to use it today as I enlighten you all about one of my favorite things in Guatemala: the chicken bus.

It’s 7:30am, but it’s not too early for the Guatemalans.  Everyone is out and about, heading to school or work.  Lots of people walk, but many others, like you, have chosen to take the chicken bus, or la camioneta.  You dodge traffic in the busy 7^th Calle and walk past the big outdoor market, whose stalls are opening as vendors arrive and set up.  Behind the market you find the chicken bus mecca—a colorful parking lot of refurbished school buses that are a very popular form of transportation all over Guatemala.  Each bus is painted bright colors, save the occasional yellow one, and plastered with stickers on the inside and outside, which could include anything from crosses to verses to sexy ladies to bus conduct expectations.  Their destinations are indicated by a large, seemingly handwritten (though legible) display above the front window.  Aided by the ayudantes’ auctioneer-style calls ringing in your ears—“aChimalaChimalaChimal!”  “GuateGuate!”  “PastOres! PastOres!”—you find the bus that’s heading the right direction, squeeze between it and the adjacent bus, and climb in.  Looking around, you find a seat.  The bus already had several people, so the driver pulls out as you dig in your bag for the fare.  A trip to Pastores, a town about 15 minutes out of Antigua, costs only Q2.50—about thirty cents.

The mecca.  This is one of several rows of buses.

The driver of the bus is aided by an ayudante (which literally means helper), whose job is actually quite impressive.  He hangs out the door of the bus calling out its destinations (in a voice that appears to have been specially developed for this particular vocation), hops out to help the driver cross blind intersections or make tight turns, and collects payment from the passengers.  The camioneta duo seem to have some kind of telepathic communication, and you wonder if the ayudante has teleportation powers as well, because they always seem to be aware of the other person’s thoughts and whereabouts, and even when the ayudante jumps off the bus and seems to disappear as the bus zooms forward, he manages to reappear in the doorway before long.  You sit back, enjoying a seat to yourself, when the ayudante begins to walk down the aisle to collect the money.  You pay him, and then look out the window at the beautiful Guatemalan countryside.  You pass corn fields, clotheslines surrounded by plants, and green patchwork hills with cows grazing.  After cruising down the highway for a few minutes you arrive at your destination and as the bus is pulling up you walk to the front, signaling that you need to get off.

Here's a couple buses.  You can see its destination above the driver's window (this one says Antigua Guate/Alotenango)

The day goes by, and when you’re ready to come home in the late afternoon you know that the bus won’t be quite as peaceful as it was in the morning.  You walk to the main road and wait until the bus comes careening around the corner.  Stepping in, you see that it’s already full of people and you sit next to a young woman holding a baby.  You’re soon sandwiched on your other side by an elderly farmer holding a towel in his weathered hands.  After a couple minutes, the ayudante squeezes himself through the people standing in the aisle to collect payment, and you wonder how he can possibly remember who’s already paid and who just got on (except for you, because your white skin makes you look pretty different from the rest of the commuters).  You actually enjoy the crowd of people crammed into the bus, though many other gringos beg to differ.  It’s an authentic taste of Guatemalan culture.

As you come back into Antigua, the bus bumps along the cobblestones, crowding its way through narrow roads and around tight corners.  The roads in Antigua are mostly one-way, except for when a car decides they’re not, and there aren’t many right-of-way rules so sometimes it seems pretty haphazard.  Luckily the cobblestones force vehicles to travel more slowly, and this significantly calms things down.  If you look out the window you’ll see that you’re often heading straight into the path of other cars and getting out of the way just in time.  This type of driving is perfectly common in Guatemala, and while it would be terrifying in the US, somehow you’re not worried.  The bus pulls back into its mecca and you get off, heading back through the market which is now in full swing.  Smells of fried chicken fill your nose and if you’re not careful, gritty exhaust fills your eyes as you glance at the garbage on the ground, homeless dogs skillfully avoiding the traffic, and the row of shoe-shining boys.  You soak it all up, thankful for another Guatemalan adventure.

Relying on my Jesus

I’m going to share a struggle here.  Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing horrible or heart-stopping.  But it took me a couple weeks to get a post written for two reasons: My darn pride doesn’t like it when I admit a struggle in an area that I have experience in (like travel), and I didn’t want to sound like an ungrateful complainer (I still don’t).  I decided this post needed to go up because of the rebuttals of those reasons: Though I fly a lot and have even been out of the country a few times, I am not the experienced world traveler that I’d like to be and I’m still challenged when I venture to new places, and I hope that hearing how Jesus helped me through will be encouraging to others, especially if they’re experiencing the same feelings.

I love living in Guatemala.  My host family is wonderful, Spanish is enjoyable, the other students are great, and it’s just one big adventure.  But most adventures come with some challenges, and late October held a challenging week for me.  I normally eat very healthfully at home, and my diet here is very different, and much more processed.  I’m a pretty messy person (my stuff seems to be alive. I open a suitcase or drawer and a bomb goes off and all my clothes run away and spread out all over the floor) but I like cleanliness.  That sounds totally contradictory, but what I mean is that I like my clothes to be spread out all over a clean floor, I don’t keep rotting food or dirty dishes lying around, and I like counters and surfaces to be sans crumbs, germs, and dust.  My room in Antigua always has dirt and fine gravel on the floor, mold living on one of the tables, and plenty of dust and spiders in the corners.  Finally, the going joke is that I have sangre dulce (sweet blood) because anytime I’m anywhere near any kind of biting bugs, I’m covered in bites.  Well, that’s no different here.

Normally all of those things don’t bother me—they’re part of the adventure.  But I guess I had just had too much.  The food was not sitting well with my body, I was covered in bug bites, and sneezing from the dust.  I missed America.

I had to make a choice.  Either I let these frustrations take over my attitude and complain to my friends, or I gave them to God.   I chose the latter, because this semester I’ve really been focusing on depending on Him one hundred percent—He’s the only one who’s completely constant and completely omnipotent, so why depend on anyone else?  I’m a verbal processor so I like to talk about everything that’s on my mind with my close friends (and anyone else who’ll listen).  This is fine and dandy, but God is the only one who can truly bring peace.  I just wrote that other post about peace and when I put Philippians 4:6-7 in there I realized how much that verse has been exemplified in my life this semester.

Here in Guatemala, I have no piano to play as an outlet.  I have no internet at my house to waste time on.  I don’t have my best friends from school that I’m used to confiding in.  And I have lots of free time.  When I came to Guat, I decided that I wanted to deepen my relationship with God and draw closer to Him in every area of my life.  I wanted to be fully reliant on Him.  I have been making an effort to bring every single request to God and let Him take care of it.  That verse in Philippians says not to be anxious, but to be thankful and in through prayer present everything to God, and we will receive profound peace.

Well, it’s true.

As I prayerfully pushed through the frustrations, instead of becoming grumpy and resenting my situation, God continued to refresh me and I was filled with thankfulness and patience.  The issues didn’t go away, but neither did God at my side.  It was humbling and interesting to wrestle with the unfamiliar feelings of frustration towards a new culture, and because I leaned on Jesus the whole process was much easier.

Postscript:

My friend Heather took some kind of cultural communications class last year and she informed me that the feelings I was experiencing are normal in a progression of phases that occur while living in a new culture, and she experienced them too when she lived in Cambodia for a summer.  The name of the stage I was in was resentment, though I did not resent Guatemala because I let God take the reins instead of my selfish heart.  The next stage is acceptance, and I am happy to say that I think I have passed into that one.  I’m back to being okay with my dusty floor and itchy, bumpy feet.  I am so thankful that I get to live here.  I still need Jesus desperately for patience and fulfillment, but that fact will never change :)

All-surpassing peace

A few weeks after I arrived in Guatemala, I found myself feeling frustrated and a little overwhelmed.  At that point I was still taking 4 hours of Spanish a day, and that particular week I had learned about 200 verbs—my roommate told me I was conjugating verbs out loud in my sleep, and I’m not surprised.  I was still getting adjusted to living with the host family—with three delightful, adorable, energetic, and loud children, and taking statistics and history.  I have a science mind, and I don’t remember any history unless I study a lot, and I have a hard time staying motivated.   I think I was in pre-test mode, trying not to think about how much history I didn't know as I tidied my messy room and listened to the kids play and laugh and cry, all the while watching my door so the ever-curious 1-year-old Maria wouldn’t come in and taste my earbuds, rearrange the things on my nightstand or attempt to write a book on my laptop.

All of a sudden I found myself wondering if maybe I wouldn’t be able to handle a life in the mission field overseas.  If I was feeling this unsettled with noisy kids and a messy room, how would I ever be able to deal with the chaos and unexpected adventures and mishaps that are bound to show up when working in a third world country?  I’ve wanted to go into international missions for a long time, and while I certainly was not set on this idea, I had always thought I would be great at living in a third world country and taking everything in stride.  Why was I feeling so unsettled?

I’m an adaptable and flexible person, and I really do feel at home quickly in new places, especially because my God is the same everywhere I go.  And then I realized, my God is the same everywhere I go.

And so is His peace.

I don’t need to be in my dorm in Michigan or at home or at Cannon Beach or anywhere else.  It doesn’t matter how loud or quiet my surroundings are.  It doesn’t make a difference whether or not there’s hot water, or pressure, or parasites.  The peace of God passes all understanding, and when He calls someone to work in a challenging area (like a third world country) He gives them the strength and the peace they need if they just confide in Him.  In Ephesians it says that Christ Himself is our peace.  Jesus promised us His peace in John 14 and told us not to let our hearts be troubled.  Paul instructs us in Colossians to let the peace of Christ rule in our hearts, since we were called to peace as members of His body.

Philippians 4:6-7 says “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

After God reminded me of His promises, I was filled with His unconditional peace.  My circumstances don’t need to change for the fruits of the Spirit to manifest in my life.

Hola perrita!

Yesterday I was walking home from the market and as I got to the door the boys came outside telling me to be quiet.  I had no idea why, because even when Maria is sleeping there's no need to be quiet--plus the boys are always loud regardless.  But when I walked into the house I saw Kenneth on the floor with a pile of stuffed animals...

...and a tiny PUPPY.

Meet Burbujita (little bubble) the cocker spaniel.

She is so tiny and soft and squishy.  She slips all over the floor and chases bare feet.

Ella está muy pequeña.  Tan linda!

Of course that's not the only thing that's happened in the last 2 weeks since I've posted on my blog (sorry about that.....) and I promise another post will be coming soon.  But I figured this merited a post of its own, asap.

Folks, we have a puppy.

I MILKED A COW (and went to a jungle)

 This weekend was probably the most legit adventure I've ever been on.  We went to a rural village in the middle of a jungle.  I don't think my writing style is going to be very interesting right now because I'm tired and I have so many bug bites on my feet that I'm about to lose my mind.  But I want to post anyway.  The community we stayed in is called Veracruz and one of our professor's friends, Matt, spends a lot of time there.  Matt married a Guatemala woman and lives outside of Antigua, and currently devotes his life to developing relationships with and helping the people of Veracruz become more economically involved outside of their community.  We went to see the village that he works with, and experience what real life of most Guatemalans is like--and it was incredible.  We sweated and hiked through the jungle all day Saturday and Sunday morning, with breaks now and then to see water wheels that provide energy for the community, hold baby goats and see interesting animals, empty corn cobs of their kernels to make tortillas, swim in a river or waterfall, and play soccer (futbol).  And by hike I mean push giant leaves out of the way and avoid giant holes while Pilar (Matt's daughter) hacked at branches with a machete and ants ate at our ankles.  It was the greatest thing ever.

We arrived Friday evening and went right out to see some of the community, but Guatemala had another torrential downpour and we were soaked in minutes.  I have no pictures of this exciting event because my camera was tied inside my shirt to try and keep it dry (I succeeded).  The road turned into a river and we sloshed through the mud despite the rain, though we put off our initial destination for the following day.  We stayed in a beautiful blue and yellow cement house (of which I somehow managed to not take any pictures) that had been turned into a "hotel" for visitors, mainly Spring Arbor students.  All of us were just stunned by the never-ending green that surrounded us.  Antigua is lovely, but its cement walls and cobblestone streets are starkly different from the lush jungle vegetation.  Several ladies from the community cooked us wonderful food for every meal, including fresh tilapia for Saturday lunch.  And by fresh I mean that morning we ventured to the neighboring community where we watched our fish being caught, sadly oblivious to their inevitable fate that was to take place in just a few short hours.  I pleasantly reminded everyone of this fact as we sat down for lunch--"These fish were alive two hours ago!"

Through the jungle-y trees you can see the village from which we retrieved our fish!

I kept thinking "This is how the disciples did it!  Except probs in the ocean from a boat and not the the jungles of Guatemala but still..."  It was really cool to see the guy fishing with a net.

The finished product!  Please crane your neck slightly to the right to see this picture at the proper angle.  Also, those are not french fries--they're fried green bananas!  The meal was delicious.  I ate every piece of meat I could find in the fish, and I tried to find the brain (because I take every opportunity I get to dissect a creature).  I cracked open the skull and found a small pink lumpy encephalon that might explain why fish are not very smart.

This incredible spider was hanging out at the fish farm.  Seriously, isn't that just the coolest spider you have ever seen?

On our way to get tilapia, we hiked through a forest of rubber trees!  They all had curved slits cut into the bark and a cup at the bottom to collect the sap, just like a maple tree.

The rubber forest

It looked like a coconut shell was used to catch the rubber sap, which wouldn't be surprising given the abundance of palm trees around.

We still had one more hike to get in before lunch and so we climbed Corn Mountain (I just named it that).  It was a steep hill, full of holes, uneven patches, and rows of corn--all planted by hand.  The Guatemalan farmers have to be in amazing shape and as nimble as a goat to be able to maneuver these fields and care for the corn.

Here's just one side of Corn Mountain, with some more jungle in the background.  Corn is so important to the Guatemalans that they have several different words for it.  Maíz is the most familiar word, but it actually just means the corn kernels, off the cob.  Elote is the corn while still on the cob, and milpa is the corn plant.

I love corn.  Since I'm missing fall in the US, I considered this my corn maze for the year (even though it was 30-40 degrees warmer and the corn was definitely short enough to see over).

This isn't in Guatemala, but it goes along with the corn theme.  I just really like corn, and when I saw this truck on the road four years ago I was very excited.

Saturday afternoon is when the real machete-hacking, ant-biting jungle fun began.  We trekked through the brush to see two springs where the waterwheel creates energy.

The jungle path.  This was an easy part.

Me and the wonderful sweet Sarah!

It is currently 11:57, waaay past my bedtime.  I could go on and on about the beautiful Veracruz, a place that may very well have hosted our best weekend in Guatemala.  This morning we went on another hike to a river deep in the jungle, swam in the water, and climbed a waterfall.  All of us wished we could stay for another week.  I'll leave you with a picture of my first time ordeñando una vaca:

Guys, I can't even tell you how happy I am that I got to milk a cow.  I grew up surrounded by a city on one side and farms on the other, and I have been dying to milk a cow my entire life.  AND IT HAPPENED.  In a Guatemalan jungle.  While I was going at it, Lydia asked me if I was excited or having fun or something and I could only laugh in response.  Pure joy :)  It still makes me happy to think about it.

Communication pt. 2

I just had the most incredible conversation with Emanuel, the five-year-old.  He came into my room and sat next to me on my bed as I was writing something on the computer, and proceeded to pick up scraps of paper from my floor (left from an origami ball he enjoyed dismantling yesterday) and fold them into various shapes.  Then I told him I knew how to make a bird and folded a crane for him, which he thought was super cool.  Thus began our long discussion of animals.  He was telling me what birds eat (gusanos) and then we just started to talk about all different kinds of animals and I was googling pictures.  I have never heard him say more than a few words to me let alone an entire conversation.  He has the most adorable big dark eyes and they were focused on me, speaking Spanish with his sweet little kid accent.  Normally the boys are goofy and while we talk to each other they’re normally not interested in conversation.  But I guess Emanuel likes animals, and I sure loved our talk.

Both brothers just adore their sister.  This is Emanuel.

Learning to communicate in a different culture has been interesting.  The language is only the beginning—there’s so much more to understand.  As a gringa (white person) with freckles and super short red hair in Guatemala, I stick out.  And Guatemalans like to look at people who stick out, especially Americans.  It’s not unusual for guys to stare when I (or any girl) walk by, and they sometimes seem to think that catcalling or attempting to speak English is going to attract positive attention.  This may sound negative and I definitely don’t want to portray a negative image of this beautiful culture.  Men are just different, and I pass lots of guys every day who are perfectly genial and courteous.  But because of what I had heard about the supposedly over-zealous men here before I came, as well as the necessity for caution to avoid getting mugged, it took me several weeks to develop appropriate interaction with the males that I see in the streets on a daily basis. 

Most of the streets in Antigua don't have this much green, but I love this road because it reminds me of France and it's just so pretty.

Here in Antigua, we walk everywhere and people are abundant, so I pass a lot of people on the narrow sidewalks lining the cobblestone streets.  At first, I just ignored everyone I passed because I didn’t want to give guys the wrong idea.  But I didn’t like this because I not only did I want to portray America in a positive fashion, I wanted to be kind and friendly.  Now I’ve developed a good balance as I’ve learned that it’s perfectly fine and safe to greet people as we cross paths, and I’m not afraid to say hola or exchange a few words.  It’s also been interesting trying to be polite when I interact with people other than my family because often I’m concentrating so hard on trying to speak correctly and intelligibly that I forget to say please.  I try to compensate by saying thank you a lot.

Speaking of passing people on the streets, the other day I was walking with a friend and a little girl passed us with her mom who was carrying lots of trinkets to sell.  The little girl called out to us, “We have good price for you ladies!”  Automatically we replied with, “no, gracias” but then silence fell as the weight of the situation sank in.  The girl probably wasn’t more than 10 or 12 and she had already begun the life of vending souvenirs to tourists and gringos—and she knew the right English words to say.  That kind of thing would not fly in the US and I wish it didn't here either.

Reflection (Cloud of witnesses)

Oh my gosh, I feel like a Christian book author or inspirational speaker because I just realized that I am going to have four posts in a row all with the same suffix (distraction, communication, reflection, and communication again).  Sometimes I’m easily amused.  And I actually can’t quite decide if this pattern (or use of any pattern) is lame or cool, but either way, here it is.  Plus I titled this post to go with the –tion theme, and I also have two posts with the same name, so really there’s not much of anything to get excited about.  I just wrote a whole paragraph about nothing.  Good job.

So, what I really wanted to write about is how thankful I am right now.  Seriously, God is so good to me.  This past week I was able to Skype with several friends as well as my family on my dad’s birthday, and it just got me thinking how incredibly blessed I am to have such wonderful people in my life.  I was listening to Mark Schultz the other day and he has a song based on Hebrews 12:1, which says:

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

The author of Hebrews says this right after he finishes talking about all of the devoted disciples of Christ that dropped everything to follow whatever God happened to be calling them to do.  It is an inspiration to us as believers to see their committed acts of faith.  Noah endured ridicule to build a giant boat and save his family and all of the fauna from the flood that was to destroy the entire earth.  Abraham blindly followed God out of his homeland to a new place, and was willing to sacrifice his only son—whose birth was already a miracle from God.  Moses stepped out of his comfort zone as a leader and took a bunch of complaining Israelites out of Egypt.  There are many more people in the Bible who are convicting examples of undying faith to the Lord, and there are also many people like that today.  And some of them are my friends and family.

My parents are absolutely amazing people who seek God’s will for every situation and possess godly wisdom.  I can’t even express how thankful I am to be their daughter.  My beautiful sister Emily is invested in the Bible and committed to prayer, and filled with the joy of Jesus.  I do not even deserve the incredible friendship of my roommate back at school, Stephanie.  She is such a devoted woman of God and absolutely committed to prayer and spending time with Jesus so she can get to know Him better, and decrease so that He can increase in her.  Steph sincerely invests in relationships with the people in her life and she is an inspiration and a blessing to me and many others.  She exemplifies the biblical example of how iron sharpens iron and one person should sharpen another in their spiritual walk.  Lydia is my pre-med buddy who has a passion for serving God with medicine, and she wants nothing more than to be a vessel of His love and light.  It is beautiful to see how much she wants to be the hands and feet of Jesus to everyone she interacts with and her desire to know and follow His will.  This semester I have the privilege of living with Heather and Sage, two godly women from my school that I seriously appreciate.  They are both vulnerable and real and it is refreshing to observe their commitment to their walk with Christ, not to mention the joy of just hanging out and having conversation about literally anything and everything.  Having them as housemates is a gift from God.

I could name so many more people whose friendship I cherish and whose faith I admire but for now I’ll stop there.  Right now I am also thankful for… Our Guatemalan family who has welcomed us into their home.  Professors at school who are also friends.  The chance to live in a new culture and be stretched.  Singing in harmony.  God’s creativity when He made fruits and vegetables.  Christmastime (yeah it’s a ways away but seriously I just love it).  The beautiful new baby of my dear friends, and the recent engagement of another dear friend.  Scripture.

That verse in Hebrews is one of many verses that begins with encouragement and finishes with an appeal—notice how it’s collective:

Throw off everything that hinders us.  Get rid of the sin that entangles us. 

Run with perseverance the race marked out for us. 

Fix our eyes on Jesus!

Together, we will lift each other up and run to our Jesus.

Communication pt. 1

Being in a country with a new language has taught me way more than I ever expected.  I thought I was just going to learn Spanish, but I now look at communication in a whole new way.  When I first arrived, I didn’t know much Spanish but I was able to get along in the house talking to Betzy.  However, my conversation skills were minimal with anyone (to say the least) and the boys weren’t really interested in repeating or explaining what they said.  Now, six weeks later, I am much more proficient (though far from fluent) and speaking Spanish at home is easier.  I can participate in dinner conversation and talk to the boys—for the record though, I think my ability to speak is only partly why they didn’t want to engage in real banter; I think they also needed a couple weeks just to get to know me and the other girls.

Language is such a fascinating element of humanity.  We are all human and we are all similar in one way or another, but we use different languages to communicate.  Languages that often aren’t like one another at all, and can’t be understood by other cultures.  Languages with different definitions, connotations, idiomatic phrases, and words that don’t even exist outside the culture because whatever they are describing is unique.  Sometimes we can forget that other languages exist as the primary form of communication for millions of people simply because we’re just accustomed to our own.

I grew up in a pretty multicultural city, so I was often around other languages being spoken.  I love the diversity but I’ve never really thought that much about what it’s like to live in a place with a new language and try to figure out how to communicate—until now.  This is not my first time in a country that doesn’t speak English, but it’s the first time that I’ve really pondered a new language and observed the cultural differences of communication, and experienced how the unfamiliarity or lack of fluency can alter someone’s perceived personality.

I’ve always enjoyed watching the TV show ER, mainly because I learned about all kinds of medical stuff (I’m that nerd who watches the show with medical dictionary in hand and writes down diseases and procedures to read about on Wikipedia after the fact).  But one particular episode recently came back to mind.  The emergency department hired a cleaning lady who was an immigrant from Russia or something, and because she had some hard-to-pronounce name (or maybe just one that no one cared to remember), she was dubbed Bob.  Bob was always reserved and didn’t talk much.  She stayed out the way and did her job, and didn’t protest her new moniker.  Then one day a patient coded, and the nurses were scrambling around trying to find a doctor, and Bob was just a fly on the wall in the exam room—until she jumped in.  She dropped her cleaning supplies and performed some exciting and dramatic procedure like a thoracotomy or open heart massage (or maybe both) and saved the patient’s life.  Turns out Bob was a thoracic surgeon in her native country—and thus probably very smart and confident, but she wasn’t able to get licensed in the States so she landed a job cleaning floors in the ER.

When I first saw that episode I thought it was kind of dumb because that kind of situation would probably never happen in real life.  It probably wouldn’t, but I do understand a little bit how Bob felt (had she been a real person…haha).  I started working at a clinic this past week, which has been good, but the language barrier was frustrating at times.  I’m normally comfortable in a hospital or clinic, working with or observing patients and medical staff.  But on my first day there, my lack of Spanish felt glaringly obvious.  My job is to grab a chart, call up the patient (mostly kids), and take their height, weight, temperature, and measure their head circumference, and when the doctor is ready take them to the exam room.  Sounds simple enough, but when you don’t know how to say things like “Back up,” “Turn around,” “Right this way,” and “The doctor will be with you shortly,” things become slightly more challenging.  Not to mention the fact that kids speaking Spanish are often hard to understand as it is.  I was also having trouble even making conversation with the receptionist when there was dead time, and I definitely did not come across as the talkative, inquisitive person I normally am.

Since that first day, things have gotten much better and though I still don’t ask a zillion questions I know how to say the important things, and I’m more comfortable interacting with the patients and their parents.  It’s still stretching me out of my comfort zone which is really good, and God is using the experience to humble me which is also good.  I was starting to feel like “Hey, yeah, I can speak Spanish!  I’m so cool!” and then I started at the clinic.  So much for that prideful notion.

I’m not really sure how to conclude this post because I feel like it would be weird to end with that last sentence.  This post seems to be obscenely long (I’m writing it on Word and it’ll probably be even more of a tome when I get it on the internet) but I still have more to say about communication so I will make this a two part post and bid you all adieu—until next time!

Distraction

It's been a week since my last post, and it's going to be at least another week before I post again.  I'll get to the reason why in a minute.

As a kid, I always loved to read and would devour piles of books.  We would go to the library every week and I'd leave with a stack of titles--kid's books, chapter books, cookbooks, nonfiction, everything--and when the car pulled into the driveway I usually stayed in my seat for a good half hour because I didn't want to interrupt my reading.  Even as a junior in high school, I read over 30 leisure books in a school year.  Jump forward four years.  I rarely read anymore, which I think is a positively dismal fact.  Reading is an invaluable pastime.  It widens the vocabulary, improves attention span and writing skills, and has incredible variety.  Not to mention how wonderful old books smell.

When I came to Guatemala, I wanted to live life more simply.  I knew I would have a lot more free time and I was planning getting back into reading and spending more time with God.  But there's one thing that Satan uses to keep me away from my goals, to pull me away from conversation, distract me from doing homework and productive things like reading, and cuts deeply into the time I could (and should) be spending with my Buddy (aka God, if you haven't read that post).  This thing is something that I was hoping wouldn't be a vice while I was in Guatemala.  I was hoping that I could resist the temptation.

That ever-present, oh-so-alluring temptation is my computer.

With or without wifi, I always manage to spend way too much time browsing Facebook or Buzzfeed, unnecessarily sorting photos or videos, and reading old emails, documents, and papers from freshman year just for fun.  And way too often, this time happens to be when I have a free evening or afternoon that I could be using to read a good book (I'm currently in the middle of Through Gates of Splendor by Elisabeth Elliot) or hang out with Jesus.  I hate the feeling that I get after I've been staring at the screen for an hour or two, but it is just so hard to resist.  It sucks me in.

I don't need to spend my free time on the computer.  Lots of people all over the world don't have one and somehow they manage to get along just fine.  I've tried many times to change my habit, and I successfully gave up all leisure computer time for several weeks this past spring--needless to say it was very refreshing.  But resisting the draw has become more and more difficult, and for some reason, especially here.  I decided a couple days ago that I was not going to succumb to the computer for the rest of the month.  No useless websites, no YouTube, minimal Facebook (as it's my only way to contact some people), and no unneeded sorting of pictures, videos, or documents.

Well, I utterly failed.  So starting tomorrow (perfect, because Sundays are fine days for beginning things), I'm turning off this darn machine and putting it away for a week.  No exceptions.

I'm going to read books.  I'm going to speak Spanish and have face-to-face conversations.  I'm going to give God the time He deserves.

Hurrah for executive decisions!

Where is the hope?

Today we went to a very large dump in Guatemala City where many people spend their lives picking through garbage, trying to salvage things that they can sell.  It was quite the sobering experience.  I just couldn't stop thinking about how incredibly different their lives are from mine.  They work to survive, day by day.  Every single day families work in the dump, looking for useful things to sell for some money for the next day.  Every single day.

I just can’t imagine a live completely centered on surviving.  And I’m sure they can’t imagine anything else.  Survival is pretty much the last thing on my list of concerns.  I never have to worry about where my next meal is going to come from, or whether or not I can get healthcare, and so many other things that I just take for granted—because I was born into a society of wealth.  It’s all I know.  But the people who work in the dump have been there for generations.  It’s all they know.  Kids are born and grow up—as their parents and siblings scavenge through trash.  Then they have their own kids—and scavenge through trash.  Then they die—and their kids scavenge through trash.

What gives them purpose?  Joy?  Hope?

Maybe some of them know Jesus, but many don’t.  And I don’t know what gives them the strength to get up every day and work in the garbage, just so they can buy food for another day of working in the dump.  A life like that seems so absolutely hopeless.

How does God reveal beauty and hope in a place as desolate as that?  At least those who know the Lord have hope in an eternity with Him after life here, but for those who don’t… I just can’t imagine.

Frustration and thankfulness

--This is a post I wrote a little over a year ago, in the summer of 2012.  At the time I didn't have a blog but I wrote this reflection and I've been waiting for a good time to post it.--

I was about 10 minutes into my 25-minute drive home when my car became very difficult to drive.  I couldn't accelerate, so I pulled over and called my mom to pick me up.  It turned out the car needed coolant, so we got some, put it in, and I drove home.  The 25-minute trip had turned into 2 hours.  I got home, hot and tired, and bickered with my mom and sister about my incessant mess.  I tried to figure out how to squeeze all my planned afternoon activities into the evening.  Finally, very frustrated, I went into my room to do devotions, all ready to vent it all to God.

But I then I realized, I have it so good.  Instead of complaining about all the little things that made my afternoon turn grumpy, I thanked God for all the good things in my life.  I have a car--with AC--and I have money to buy gas.  I have an amazing family who loves me.  I have a house that is safe and secure.  I'm able to attend a (really really great) private school.  I'm healthy, and have easily accessible medical care whenever I need it.  I have an endless supply of clean water and food.  Wow, what a privileged life I lead!  And most of all, I have the God of the universe taking care of me, always faithful!  I have no right to be grumpy or unthankful.

Now I'm not saying that you should never be frustrated or angry, but don't let the little things in life bog you down!  When I think about the people I met in Ghana last summer (2011), how little they had (my life is an absolute luxury!) but how happy they were despite that, it really puts things into perspective.  My problems are so trivial!  Now I understand what God means when He says "A fool gives full vent to his anger, but a wise man keeps himself under control." (Proverbs 29:11)  What good would it have done had I reiterated all my problems to God?  Nothing.  The problems in the past would still be in the past, and the ones in the present would still need to be solved.  I would have ended up even more frustrated than before.

Thankfulness is so important!  Not only does it help us get perspective, it is one of God's commands to Christians.  There's even a whole Psalm just about giving thanks (Psalm 100).  1 Thessalonians says to "give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Oh God be my everything, be my delight.  Be, Jesus, my glory, my soul satisfied.

Beautiful Guat

We no longer have wifi at our house, which I really like--but unfortunately it makes it difficult to post on my blog.  The last week consisted of some very intense verb-learning and concluded with a group trip to Guatemala City.  I will post a more introspective post soon, but I haven't had the chance to write one as of yet because I always feel rushed with limited wifi.  But for now...

Here are some more pictures! :)

Our house doesn't have any flowers, but they aren't too hard to find if you look around town.  I love the exotic colorful blooms.  Here's one at La Union, our Spanish school.

Some kind of flower at Azotea Coffee Plantation.  This one is actually pretty common around Guatemala.

The aftermath of walking home in a torrential downpour and making the decision to use my raincoat to protect my non-waterproof computer.  I love the rain, but my computer--not so much.  It survived mostly dry but needless to say I now put my computer in a plastic bag whenever I go anywhere in the afternoon.

One of the volcanoes near Antigua.  We have lots of mountains at home in Oregon but it's crazy to live so close to one (and an active volcano, no less!).

We went to a very large indoor market in Guatemala City and I could not get over how beautiful the produce was.  Tons of colors and different types of fruits and vegetables, open bags full of beans, seeds, rice, and dried things, and more.  It was incredible.  And I thought France had sweet markets.

Palabras

I am sitting on my bed studying random vocab palabras (words) for an oral test tomorrow, and it occurred to me how incredibly strange it must sound to my host family to hear me practicing.

It would be so weird to be sitting in my kitchen at home hearing a foreign student drilling out loud, "Cabbage. Carrot. Inside. Outside. Amazing. Boiled plantains. Watermelon. Town."

Tambien (also), the four of us roommates speak Spanish all the time with each other and with our host family, which is awesome, but our Spanish, while usually comprehensible, is full of mistakes, incorrectly conjugated verbs, and bizarre words that are either attempts at guessing a new word (though sometimes adding -amente or -ivo does make a Spanish word from an English one) or a poor recollection of one previously learned.

I am so thankful that we are able (and willing!) to speak Spanish so much and that our host family and nearly every person we interact with is willing to endure and kindly correct our broken sentences and wrong conjugations.  I don't know if it's because I've grown up since the last time I traveled to a country with a different language, or because of the friendliness of the Guatemalans, or some other reason entirely (probably a combination of all), but I am completely okay with trying my best to speak in Spanish, no matter how many mistakes I make.

Friends, if you ever decide to learn a new language, here's my advice.  Study it a little on your own or in a class, then go to a country where they speak your language of choice, and speak it.  Don't be embarrassed, just do it!  I am learning SO much!  This is the best.  After my tutoring sessions I sometimes feel like I don't know how to speak any language because my brain is overflowing with new words and conjugations (después mi lección hoy, tuve dolor de cerebro).  But it's great because that also means that Spanish words and phrases are constantly floating about en mi cabeza (head) and they'll stick that much faster.

A couple great things about living with sweet little Guatemalan niños: It is the cutest thing ever when Steven or Kenneth (ages 5 and 8) come into my room and say "Hola, chica!"  I love being called chica.  And yesterday, I learned how to play Hide and Seek en español, aka "Listo o no, allá voy!"  So great.  And I got to practice my counting.

Oh also, I wanted to let you all know that if you wanted to send me a letter or package or anything, I'm sorry but that won't be a possibility (unless you want to pay $45 for one letter.... ahahaha good one, right?).  For real though, apparently mail is pretty unreliable here and the only way to send something with assurance of delivery is very expensive.  So, feel free to comment here (I would love to see who's reading my ramblings!) or shoot me an email or fb message :)

Fotos de Antigua!

Finally I have pictures of Guatemala for you!  Well I guess it really hasn't been that long--it seems like we've been here a week or two already.  Either way, here they are. :)

The roommates!  L to R: Heather, Sage, Alley, and me!  It is a pretty sweet group of girls and I am SO glad I get to live with them all semester :)

This is the inside of our house!  The cement front wall (that I was standing by when I took the picture) has a wide wooden door that opens right into this courtyard.  The kitchen and bathroom are to the left.  I love how the whole house is completely oriented around the outdoor courtyard.

My room!  Alley's bed is on the left.  There's a lone lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling but we don't use it much.  Alley and I are trying to figure out how to cleverly live out of our suitcases for the next 3 months without just keeping everything in one messy disorganized slop pile (which is what my suitcase and bed look like right now). 

This is the view down our street!  It was cloudy at the time of the picture because it was afternoon, and in the rainy season the clouds cover the sky every afternoon and rain ensues for a little while.

All of the meals we've had so far have been delicious.  This was our first dinner.  Potato salad, scrambled eggs with green beans and tomatoes, and black beans (the chocolate-y looking blob).  Apparently those slightly pureed frijoles negros are very common in Guatemala, and I'm really glad because they are DELICIOUS.

We went out to eat at a restaurant called El Tenedor, situated at the top of a mountain.  There was a big buffet and quite the view.

Black beans, plantains, black corn tortilla, chuchitos, and a cheese-filled pupusa.  Yum.

We visited a monastery and church and this is part of the garden.  Much of the garden was originally covered with stone/concrete roofs but an earthquake (or maybe more than one) caused them to collapse.

Estoy aqui!

Hola mi amigos!

I am safely in Guatemala and it is increíble.  The most amazing thing is how much Spanish I can understand.  After living and working with my Latin friends this summer, I guess I absorbed a lot more than I realized.  For the last hour of the flight to Guatemala City, I tiredly (but excitedly) studied my little book of phrases and vocab.  We walked out of the airport and were greeted by a group of very sweet and friendly Guatemalans from La Union, the Spanish school where I'll be studying.  Several of them introduced themselves and I introduced myself right back.  La Union sent a bus for all of us so we piled on, along with all the staff and family members from the school.  I sat next to a girl close to my age, and we actually had a conversation.  In Spanish.  Of course, mine was pretty broken but we understood each other and I was surprised at how much I knew.  I was also really happy to find out that I'm not embarrassed to try.  They are all so friendly and eager that I don't care how much I mess up or how awful my Spanish is.  It's so fun to speak!

Okay, this is the best part.  When we first got on the bus, 4 or 5 people from La Union got up and introduced themselves and their job, and one of the hombres explained our orientation packet.  Later, when we got to the school, un otro hombre talked for a while and explained a bunch of things about getting around Antigua and being safe and staying with our host families.  All of these talks were in Spanish, and I could actually understand the majority of what was being said.  The coolest part was the fact that I wasn't translating.  I was understanding.  I can't believe it.  Granted, I still have TONS to learn.  But I am so encouraged and excited.

Our host family is so great.  I'll talk more about them later, but for now I'll just tell you about the house.  The cobblestone streets of Antigua are lined with colorful concrete walls with large wooden or metal doors.  The police is corrupt and security is important, so the houses are behind these walls.  The walls make up one side of a central courtyard.  The bedrooms, bathroom, and kitchen are all off of the courtyard and some rooms have curtains for doors.  All of the houses in Antigua are very open-air and it's really refreshing.  Houses are not enclosed buildings like we're used to in the States.  It's hard to describe exactly what the house looks like, especially because I've been up since 3 o'clock this morning and it is now 7pm (9pm to my body).  I'm pleasantly surprised that I've gotten three coherent paragraphs written (we'll see how coherent they seem in the morning)..

I will post pictures soon.  Our host family has wifi but it's not really fast enough for photos (I'm glad it's slow so it won't be a time-wasting temptation).

In other news, there was a 6.5 magnitude earthquake a few miles out of Guatemala City.  Alley and I were sitting on our beds when we noticed that the floor seemed to be moving.  I assumed it was just a big truck or something but then realized it was definitely an earthquake.  Nothing dramatic happened in Antigua, it was just moving back and forth, like the earthquake I remember in Oregon about ten years ago.  Either way, it was pretty exciting.  Hopefully there aren't any damaging earthquakes this year.

Oh, in case you're wondering about the weather, it was warm when we got here but not hot (unless you're squished in a bus with 20 people and luggage).  In the afternoon it started to get cool and now it's definitely sweatshirt-worthy weather.  Pretty decent.

I love it here.  I love Spanish.

My buddy

Last night I decided to calculate out how many different places I've stayed in the past couple weeks, and I discovered that by the time I get to Guatemala on Friday night I will have slept in at least 8 different places/beds/states/countries in just 16 days.  Needless to say, I'm feeling pretty unsettled with all that moving around.  It's been great to be back in Michigan and Ohio, seeing friends and doing fun summer things, but it has also been harder than I expected to deal with so much transition.  I was also surprised at the feelings of post-camp blues that didn't show up until I returned to school--my home, with my good friends.  Apparently it's a common phenomenon, as I learned from my wise roommate, who's a camp counselor veteran.  As nice as it was to see all my old friends whose reunions I'd been looking forward to all summer, I also found myself feeling quite nostalgic and sad for the friends that I'd spent my summer living with and growing close to at Cannon Beach.

Today was freshman move-in day at school, and I was glad to be a part of it--but my heart wasn't fully there because I'm not a student leader this year (as I won't be here in the fall) and because of the emotions that seem to have taken hold of my brain.  Tonight I sit in the apartment that I will share next spring when I come back, listening to the freshmen and their upperclassman peer advisers get to know each other and play games outside, and part of me wants to join in the fun and visit my friends on campus who I won't see all semester.  I'm torn between seeing my friends, and taking advantage of the solitude I have tonight--it may be the last in a while.  But my introvert is showing big-time, and I am content to sit in the living room and mull over my thoughts.

Every time Guatemala comes up in a conversation, people always ask me if I'm ready.  I never know what to say to that.  Yes, I'm ready in the sense that my bags are packed, debit card is protected, and plane ticket booked.  But it's going to require trust and faith for this new journey.  I'm still very excited for Guatemala, but to be perfectly honest I'm a little apprehensive right now.  I hate admitting that, but it's the truth.  I'm not afraid of learning a new culture and meeting lots of people, or working hard to learn Spanish and sometimes making a fool of myself trying, or even getting sick.  But I'm still feeling a little overwhelmed.  I love change and new things, but these past couple of weeks have proved to be a bit much.  After all the moving around, repacking and reorganizing and reuniting (and saying goodbye), I am very ready to settle.  And I won't be able to settle for a while because I'm starting a new unfamiliar adventure in just two days.

Now is a time when I'm very grateful for the constancy of God.  Whenever I give my testimony, I talk about how I learned while in Ghana that God wants to be my buddy.  In Proverbs it says that Jesus is the friend that sticks closer than a brother, and that means a lot to me.  Going to school so far away from home means that I have most of my friends in Michigan and all my family on the West coast, and there's always lots of transitions and moving--so I really appreciate that God is always with me, no matter where I am or who I'm with.  When I struggle with something and I don't have a friend to talk to, God wants to listen and help.  His faithfulness and guidance is so much better than even the most amazing friend can provide.

I will keep relying on His strength as I embark on my Guatemala adventure.  I know it will be beautiful, and fun, and stretching.  Relationships will be formed and grown, and languages will be learned.  Even though I feel unsettled now, I know that I will have a blast and this semester will be incredible.

I am so glad that my Jesus is coming along.

Welcome to muggy Michigan

My summer is winding to an end, and now I'm getting ready for my next adventure.  I got to Michigan last night to see friends and hang out before GUATEMALA, which is happening in just over a week.  It has been so nice to be back in Michigan.  My dear friends Erin and Peter picked me up from the airport and it was great to see them, and I visited my roommate in the apartment I'll be living in when I return from Guat (she's moved in already).  Coming back to school and going into my dorm, the science building, and the music building is wonderful because it's truly returning home.  So many awesome memories were had here.

It's been quite the weather shock coming from Cannon Beach to Michigan.  I walked out of the airport in Lansing at 9pm to be met with humidity so thick that my skin immediately felt damp, and it was still quite warm.  All my friends who've been here all summer have had quite enough of the hot humidity, but I really appreciate it.  Cannon beach has pretty mild weather, and we had plenty of sun this summer but most of the time it was at least a little overcast and 65 degrees.  With no shortage of rain.  I don't like super hot weather, but it sure feels nice for a few days.

I think I've blabbered enough about the weather, so I'm going to move on and (drumroll please) post some pictures for the first time ever!!!  This is crazy, guys.  Except don't get too excited because recently my philosophy on photo-taking is to just live life and hope others digitally capture it for me haha.  But I do have a few photos to share.  I took most of them (well, they were taken on my camera) but a few were borrowed from friends.

This is the wonderful Midkids staff that I spent my summer with, minus one member...
You may think this picture is awkward because we're all squished onto one small bench, but it happens to be the only picture of the (almost) whole staff that I could find, and for the record we were doing a photo scavenger hunt and the goal for this particular shot was to take a photo that worked with the caption "I can't believe we all fit in there!"

This is the sweet Sarah (who hadn't arrived in time for the other picture) who was the final addition and missing piece in Midkids.  She's awesome with the kids and I'm so glad she was on the team.  We became good friends and it was a joy to work with her and get to know her.

This is one of my roommates and my dear Panamanian sister, Masai.  She is absolutely adorable and filled with the joy of the Lord, and she has a powerful singing voice to boot.

I took the international staff home with me for 24 hours and this is our haul from an afternoon of picking peaches, apples, and blackberries (and some delicious orange cherry tomatoes).

This is us at our second farm of the day.  L to R: Esteban, Dayra (another sweet roommate of mine), Giancarlo, me, Masai, Emily (my sister), and Cassandra (a friend from school and adopted sister this summer).

My family came out to the beach and we had a scrumptious picnic feast at Ecola State Park.

This is Cannon Beach.  It sure was great to live in such a beautiful place.  The round-ish rock in the water behind the three others is the famous Haystack Rock.

 More photos to come soon--especially once I'm in the Land of Eternal Spring--the beautiful Guatemala.  Also, I found out the other day that Antigua, where I'm living, is sometimes known as Panza Verde, or Green belly, because they eat so many avocados.  AH. YUM.