Familiar

What is familiar? It is amazing how quickly we can adapt...

In El Salvador... I became accustomed to traveling in the back of a huge truck, living in the Hope House where we had to be escorted if we ever left the building, the sight of the postitutes and drug house across the street, sleeping in rooms and using bathrooms that had sheets hanging instead of doors, the sight of poverty and suffering. I came to feel at home with Donya Trini and her family and to love the children of Hope House.

In La Esmerelda... my eyes and body became used to the dirt roads, the wood houses with thatched roofs of palms, showering in a bucket, using an outhouse (I did miss having a toilet seat), having neither running water nor electricity, going to bed at 8:30 or 9 because it was so dark and the roosters and dogs would wake you up by 6am if not earlier, watching women cook our ample meals over a wood fire as they continuously made tortillas. Worshipping in a cinderblock church on rough wood benches supported by tree stumps, afternoon rain, trying to hand wash my clothes and being frustrated when they never quite dried before it rained. I got used to the mud, the baby chickens in the house with us, the bugs... sort of. I could see past the dirt, bugs and what not and see the abundance in other ways.

In Guatemala City, I have become used to riding in a jeep with no seatbelt, the heavy traffic and amazing way more accidents don´t happen, reading signs in Spanish, being worried about being robbed, the sight of squatter homes, having church in someone´s garage. These last days the families in the hospital waiting room have become very familiar as we all wait to visit loved ones at 12pm and again at 5pm for an hour... in between we usually wait together by the entrance (Padre Horacio is doing very well!)

As Guatemala becomes more familiar to my eyes, as I adjust, I wonder how long it will take to adjust to being back in Minnesota. I feel like now, after nearly a month, I can begin to see Guatemala instead of just look at the people, sights, etc... I look forward to truly seeing.

Travel

Getting to La Esmerelda was an experience only overshadowed by the return trip... We left Guatemala City at 4:30am and traveled by microbus to Dolores (in the southeast of the Peten near Belize). In Dolores, we boarded the community truck.

Okay... picture a big truck with wooden sides about 4.5 feet high and a metal bar in the shape of a triangle in the middle of the back widthwise. Now add the suitcases and donations of 7 Americans and those 7 Americans. To that add additional people and their belonging at every stop we made... People of all ages and belonging ranging from chickens, to fresh food, to machettes, to pepper, to seed... Until you can´t move more than an inch without touching about 6 people who are standing around you. For 2.5 hours we traveled together (people got off and on along the way) to La Esmerelda on dirt roads at times not much wider than the truck. We had to be aware so that we were not hit by low tress branches. I was right behind the center bar and worried at times that one of our bumps would send me into the bar and my teeth out of my mouth. We even crossed a few small streams... until we were warmly greeted in by Lutheran Church in La Esmerelda.

Now fast forward 5 days... picture the truck again, only this time at 4am in a downpour with a tarp over the back of the truck that is low enough that even I cannot stand up straight. Oh... and add even more people (I counted about 60 by the time we stopped letting on more people). When the tarp was on for the first hour, it was as dark as any cave that I have been in and the air was very stale with so many breathing it. We had to stop several times to spread some material on the road to toughen up the mud so that we could make it though, and once to let a very old lady get out of the cab aided by the driver to have a bathroom break. I saw one boy holding onto a machete handle that was sticking out of the back of a man´s jeans and another woman who managed to breast feed her child in the close quarters while we were traveling. It was hard to see the tree branches coming so I just rested my head on the top of the wood sides once we finally took the top off and managed to fall asleep... I couldn´t´t move my legs at all because we were so packed in. But we all made it safetly to our destination in Dolores where my group boarded the microbus and headed for Tikal.

Padre Horacio Castillo

As the rain falls tonight in Guatemala City, Padre Horacio rests in a hospital bed. Visiting hours (12pm-1pm; 5pm-6pm) brought his wife of 36 years to his side to quietly express her love as she clipped his fingernails and helped him write a letter to help a fellow pastor. They also brought family to gaze upon his transformed face before heading home to try to sleep themselves before the 6:30am heart surgery. He appeared younger and vulnerable with his chin, cheeks and upperlip exposed from underneath his beard for the first time in 20 years. A strong man of God, teacher and preacher of the Word, Padre Horacio loves the Guatemalan people with all of his heart. Though I have known him but briefly.. I have seen him among the people of La Esmerelda-- knowing their stories of suffering, war, hunger-- and walking with them in Christ. I have seen him and heard him from the pulpit gently (and I am sure sometimes not so gently) challenging societal norms-- women´s roles, political realities, and the like. He says that a community is like a chess board: you need to know how the pieces move before you begin... and he does work within communities not inspite of them. He raises up leaders and allows them to lead-- even if/when that causes anxiety for him and the ILAG pastoral team. I have seen him sleep on the board that serves as church pew inside the church during an afternoon downpour. He is not perfect but his realness is transparent. His sharp whit and sense of humor cross even language barriers as his eyes sparkle with the joy of life. He sees the poverty, the crime, the land disputes, the discrimination and racism against the indigenous , the need to continue to heal from the war and preaches and teaches about Christ in the midst of it all. It is my prayer that as his heart heals so too can Guatemala´s heart heal. It has been a long road for him and his family as they have worked hard to reach the day of surgery. So many have helped both with spiritual and material support to help pay for the surgery (It must be paid before surgery in Guatemala, in case the patient dies during surgery), but also with their very blood (he had to have 6 people, regardless of blood type, donate to replace what he might use in surgery-- harder to get than one would think as they turned away so many people that the Castillos brought for as many reasons. I was turned away, for example, because my blood type is AB pos!) And now, with hurdles jumped and "I"´s dotted, his heart will soon be in the surgeon´s hands but also where it has always been-- in the hands of the one who created, redeemed and sustains him and you now and always. God, Bless and Keep your child. Amen

La Esmerelda

Our week in La Esmerelda was a gift. I have been able to see past the dirt, the bugs, the poverty... and see a very beautiful community, a proud people who are beginning again after such difficulty-- refugee camps, living in the mountains, seeing family die or accepting that they are afraid to return, little food, clothes, some having only the shelter of the trees during the war...
One of my trip mates from Augustana Lutheran Church said that she was stuck by how much they have done for themselves. As she put it, if her sink is linking she calls her dad and asks how to fix the leak. The people of La Esmerelda started with nothing. They even had to clear off the land for their homes. They used each others knowledge and pieced together memories from before the war in order to learn how to build a home, find and keep water, plant and harvest crops, etc. We met one man, Don Pedro, who was a carpenter. He remembered seeing a spinning wheel that his mother used to use for her thread. He modified it (since having no electricity tends to eliminate the use of power tools) and now has a laythe for his shop and makes beautiful tables. Just one example of how resourceful, intelligent and just plain creative they are.
More later about my time in La Esmerelda. For now, know that I was struck with their abundance even in the midst of very impoverished conditions. I will write more about your brothers and sisters of La Esmerelda in the next few postings.

Guatemala Welcome

Hello from Guatemala! Tomorrow I leave with a delegation from Augustana Lutheran Church, West St. Paul to northern Guatemala for a week and then various other places around the country for another week. We are going to La Ezmerelda (sp) which is 9 hours by bus and an additional 3 hours in the back of a truck away from Guatemala city. This community has no electricity or running water. It is mostly made up of resettled refugees that were either internally displaced during the war or were forced to leave the country. Many of these communities speak several languages so Spanish is their second and common language. I look forward to sharing with you when I next have email access. Today I went with Horatio and his father Padre Hortaio around Guatemala City on errands. One of our stops was to pick up 4 packages of books that the delegation coming down sent ahead of them. They were a wonderful gift... however in Guatemala packages are taxed on this end. Each package was opened up and carefully looked through and since their was an invoice the inspector knew the exact prices of these books... so the gift ended up being very expensive from this end. We need to be careful how we give gifts, they might cause additional hardship. My Spanish is actually coming along. I can follow some conversations now even if I cannot yet form my own sentences! Hopefully this means that Spanish will come quickly for me... it is frustrating not to be able to converse. I am a preacher after all... I like words! Oh, the early corn harvest was going on in El Salvador while I was there. Mostly it was what we would call cattle corn, but it is heartier so actually better for the people. Once the corn is ready, they go out into the fields and by hand or machete () bend the stocks in half so that the corn can dry and be ready to eat. It is strange to look at mountains and see corn growing on steep banks.

Subversive Cross

We spent the night in a community just outside of San Salvador near Gastapa mountain (sp?). Gastapa mountain was the site of a big massacure during the war. Soldiers surrounded the base of the mountain, while other parachuted onto the top and they sandwiched the people between-- killing and torturing them as they went. This was in my lifetime! In the last three years the government has given some of this land back to refugee resettlement. The people own the title. Many live near where they lost family members or were tortured themselves... in the shadow of the mountain. We worshiped with them and hear their stories. They have such joy intermingled in their suffering. Many of us spent the night with families (it was the first time many had international people in their homes). It was a difficult night for me personally... very hot, and no ventilation in the home... worried about the misquitos and malaria as well as the water and our safety (you think ghost stories make it hard to sleep, try graphic stories of torture and killing). But it was a gift to these families that we stayed and they were a gift to us as well. The day that the Jesuits were killed in 1991, the military also came to look for Bishop Gomez at the National Church of El Salvador. He had been hid in the German embassy. The military took all the foreigners in the church that day and a cross. The cross they took was one that Bishop Gomez had had the people write the sins of the government and people that they were experiencing in their flesh. This cross, sins listed upon it, was placed in the room in which the military tortured many of the Salvadorians. The military thought that it was a way to descerate the cross... however instead it testified to the sins of people and the hope and salvation in Christ. Those tortured looked upon the cross and were comforted that Christ knew what they were experiencing. My time in El Salvador has come to an end for now. I have arrived in Guatemala. Who knows what this leg will bring. I miss you all.

San Salvador

The church is alive and well down in El Salvador. Today we joined the Lutheran Church to celebrate their existance. Hundreds of Lutherans marched 3 plus miles through the streets of San Salvador together. The pastors vested, the bishop with miter and crook was at the front of the parade and we began to a recording of Mighty Fortress! Ivy, Anna-Kari and I all had our clerical shirts on to represent our churches in the USA. We completed our march by the National Church of El Salvador. It is located near Hope House in a difficult neighborhood but has remained. We had a service outside amidst the people of the street, the people of the church in a beautiful blend of the body of Christ.

We have also spent time at El Milagro de Dio, a mission start outside of San Salvador. They had their third anniversary this week and we were able to be honored guests at their celebration service. Spending four hours in a church with a tin roof in very hot conditions was a recipe for dehydration but we managed and they provided drinking water for us. Ivy and I were asked to join Anna-Kari, Mattias and Bishop Gomez in the procession, and remain up front. The church was filled to capacity with people leaning in from the windows. We were able to lay on hands for a woman who is now a deacon, two catechists and an ordination. The call comes from the church and we were able to represent the body of Christ... not just of El Salvador but of the world. It was beautiful.

Other than that... we travel everywhere in this giant open bed truck... hanging on is a must but you sure do see a lot with no roof over your head to impeed the view! We visited the University of Central America where the 6 Priests and 2 women were killed in 1991. The government still denies it. In the chapel next door the stations of the cross are pictures of people being tortured because when someone is tortured that is Christ. They 14 pictures will remain until El Salvador is trully peaceful.

This is a country in which the treasure is its people.

Casa Esperanza

We were greeted with tremedous joy and love at the airport and then brought in the back of a huge truck (open air) to Hope House-- a ministry in the poorest neighborhood of San Salvador. They have decided to remain in solidarity and love with the poor. Crack house and Prostitutes across the street but amid such suffering is hope.

Advent

I leave tomorrow! Commencement, Advent, New Chapter, Odyssey... whatever you call it... it's about to begin.

Frederick Buechner has the following to say about times such as these: "The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment."

Grace and Peace to you. Amanda