a new new year's resolution

It's been over half a year since I've posted, and I can spout off tons of reasons why. The most frequent explanation I've given is that I just haven't felt inspired to write. I don't think that's true, though. I think I just didn't make blogging a top priority during the second half of my trip. I'm not regretting it yet, but I have a hunch that I will start to feel pangs of self-annoyance at some point for not sticking with it. You always think you're going to remember everything, but once you've transitioned back home (a word I'm starting to regard as a relative term), even the hallmark moments of the trip turn fuzzy.

But I'm going to strike while the iron's hot and share something to which I made a "heart commitment" very early on during my time in Guatemala. After being shown immeasurable kindness by a friend and his family the weekend of my birthday--and not just any old kindness, but the inviting-someone-into-your-home-who-you-know-is-alone kindness--I vowed that I would work to make foreigners feel more at home in Berks County, PA once I returned. Well, now I'm here, and that resolution has stayed with me, unlike so many others that I seem to make on a weekly and sometimes daily basis. It began when that same friend who invited me to spend my birthday with his family last year came to stay with us between Christmas and New Year's. How wonderful it felt to return the hospitality, and how much more compelled I am to do it again! I think back to my days at F&M and all of the international students I met, one of whom is now my amazing boyfriend, and with sadness I realize that I could have done so much more to make those students feel more welcome, included, and comfortable. WHY didn't I? 

Now that I've spent time in their shoes, I've come to know veryyy well the real meaning of an invitation to join a family dinner or a ride to the doctor's office. Often, it means so much more to the person who is the receiver rather than the giver, but why can't the appreciation be mutual? An international student at F&M who has become a sweet friend comes to my mind. We met during my time as a tutor at F&M's Writing Center, where she spent a lot of time working on her already well-crafted essays and, eventually, her personal statement for grad school. I was so honored that she chose to work with me out of all the other tutors at the Center, but as I sit here on my couch feeling nostalgic about my college years and my "other" life in Guatemala, I appreciate that time I had with her even more. Recently, we've been in touch, and I was thrilled to discover that she's doing very well in grad school and has started working on a project with a consulting firm called Argopoint, located in the adorable Cafe Vanilla in Boston (http://www.argopoint.com/legal-management-consultants/about-us/). Of course, Tracy landed all of this without much help from me, but I am happy to have contributed in a very small way. From an enlightened perspective, I see that I could have done a lot more, and I'm grateful to the people who more actively supported her in pursuing her dreams. They stepped outside of their personal bubbles to encourage a talented, young mind to reach her potential in a new country and in a second language. And now I know what that feels like because so many colleagues and friends did that for me this past year in Xela. I think it's time to follow their examples and join them!

Looks like I've just made another new year's resolution.

Kathryn and I loving every second of our swim at Semuc Champey after a weekend of co-teaching at IGA in Coban

Definitely could have stayed for a week... or a month

Memorial Day lesson with the second-year ACCESS students. Proud to represent!

It's Halftime

Today marks the halfway point of my time here in Guatemala. I can remember that, before I left in January, I’d randomly lose myself in thinking about what it would feel like to be in the 5^th month of my 10-month grant period. Would I be lonely and empty of new ideas for the classroom, having already booked my plane ticket home for November? Or would I be content and energized, ready to make the most of the second half of my stay? Since today, June 9^th, is the day that I laboriously tried to imagine for so long, it seems perfectly appropriate to answer these questions from my 5-month-ago self. 

Recently, I’ve felt strong waves of something like homesickness, but it actually isn’t the feeling of missing home. Instead, I’ll self-diagnose it as friendsickness. Definition: The sentiment of missing those not with whom you’re merely acquainted but with whom you have a relationship of deep trust and strong mutual commitment. Two weeks ago, I made a 2-day trip to Florida for family reasons, and I won’t deny that as I walked through the Houston airport on my layover, I felt comforted by the excessive number of Starbucks cafés (I don’t even like their coffee that much) and the fact that I could understand ALL of the jokes I overheard between my fellow native-English speakers. But what comforted me most was a 5-minute phone call that I made to one of my very best friends in Pennsylvania. As I was waiting to overindulge myself in what would turn out to be sushi and the incredibly large American classic fudge brown/cake sundae, I realized I could do something I hadn’t been able to do for 4 and a half months: call a friend. The whole idea was wonderfully simple. I didn’t have to send an email or post on facebook what times I’d be available to skype, remind her of the time difference, and then apologize for not having internet for the two hours we were supposed to talk. All I had to do was find her name in my phone and press “call.” Oh, the beauty of it. Though I don’t remember the conversation in its entirety, I’m pretty sure we spoke about why I was in the States, what she should pack when she visits this June (2 weeks!), and how her new job was going. More than the words we exchanged, being able to get a hold of her with ease brought such happiness, which eventually turned to sadness as I realized that I’d be returning to the email-facebook-skype routine very soon.

After returning to Guate a few days later, I led a discussion in my conversation club about the proposed risks of joining facebook at an early age, specifically before the age of 18. In addition to resulting in physical changes in the brain that may lead to shorter attention spans, the scientist reporting in the article we read shares that the social risks may be just as dangerous. She explains that because social networks like our beloved facebook make friendships so accessible, actually being with friends in person can become obsolete. Certainly, this is the extreme of what can happen to FB users, and many of us maintain that we primarily use it to keep in touch with friends who are far away or who we don’t see as often as we’d like for whatever reason. Still, even for those of us who make this latter claim, I think the message of what, to me, is a scary extreme is important to keep in mind. Even though I didn’t ask my students directly, I think this conversation probably affected me more than it did them. [Side note: I’ve learned that teachers often get just as much, if not more, out of lessons with their students. This is a secret, though…the students can never know :)] As much as facebook softens the blow of being separated from close friends, it cannot and should not serve as a substitute for in-person opportunities. Por lo tanto, every second that I spend with Carolyn during her stay will be rich in love and gratitude. It’s a friendship that has taken years to mature and that I’ve grown to miss in its physical absence.

In terms of my pre-departure musings, however, I’m quick to answer the second question with a resounding YES, knowing that being content and excited about the future doesn’t come without heartache. I’m absolutely certain that when I’m back in the States, my heart will ache for the life I had in Xela despite the fact that I’ll be content in walking the path God has laid for me. That’ll be good, though; if I’m still missing Xela, that means I’ll be finding a way to come back.

Making tortillas with the best at the Vargas home during Mom's Holy Week visit

Post- Easter craft lesson with the kiddos at the IGA branch in Huehuetenango

View from the summit of volcano Santa Maria 12375 ft

The hikers a.k.a. some of my amazing colleagues!

Come and See

I happily report to you that I've accomplished two of the goals I mentioned in my last post: 1) I've changed my work schedule to allow for more effective lesson planning and social time, and 2) I've started volunteering at a refuge for street dogs here in Xela, Asociación Amigo Fiel. Actually, I think it may be the only one in the city, not to say that we couldn't use about twenty more of them here. My homeless canine neighbors have been on my mind since I arrived to Guate-- a somewhat unwanted memory from my month-long stay here in 2010. Consistent with this memory, the street dogs (chuchitos) hold their posts in the parks, both in and outside of the street markets, and on claimed sidewalk corners. And when you walk on those sidewalks, they pass you by, often swerving sideways to create more space between you and them, occasionally glancing up to meet your eyes. Some live in packs and clearly look to one dog as the group's leader, and others appear to be loners. It's just as easy to tell when a female dog is in heat; she jogs down the street with several male dogs following in her wake. All of them are thinner than your average american Sparky, with the exception of those who are pregnant or whose stomachs are swollen for disease-related reasons you don't want to think about. To put it another way, upon returning home, all of them would be showered with exclamations of "Why, you're nothing but skin and bones! Let me fix you something good to eat." Yes, this is what people would say..that is, if these pups had homes to which they could return. 

I don't paint this grotesque, Sarah McLachlan raise-funds-for-the-animals-TV commercial picture to have you pity them because, honestly, they already have plenty of that. Love, not pity, is what they need. As much as we crave a way to change this reality, they crave our love. It hasn't taken me long to realize that the volunteers who spend time at the shelter cleaning up after, playing with, and feeding the dogs understand this two-fold desire. To really internalize the conviction to fight for change, you have to know the beneficiaries. You have to scratch their ears, clean up their poop, and refill the water bucket they've dirtied for the fifth time with their muddy paws. It's like any other passion-developing process: you have to "come and see," in the words of Mother Theresa. Certainly not everyone feels called to go and witness the same tragedies, and they could not possibly be expected to. Really, there are too many good causes in our world for us to know about and stand by them all. But I hope that sharing my first impressions with you now, as well as other thoughts on this in the future, teaches you something new and reminds you of why you have the passions that you do. Many of you have shared stories with me about projects in which you've been involved, things you've seen that have touched your hearts. I'm inspired by it all, but I can't possibly give of myself to each and every one of those causes. That's okay, though, because it doesn't matter who's doing the giving..it just matters that someone is.  

Buenos Días hugs from Diego,

the Thompson family's precious pooch.

Rena Thompson, Gabby, and Kathryn in front of the church in the municipality of Chamula, Mexico. The "township" is inhabited by the Tzotzil Maya people, who speak 1 of the 50+ indigenous languages still spoken in Mexico!

With 2 students and the U.S. Ambassador to

Guatemala, Mr. Arnold Chacon, after the new ACCESS cohort's induction ceremony.

A project one of the other teachers and I did with the ACCESS students to celebrate World Water Day.