Having Faces: Being Neighbor

I came to Guatemala with a Graduate Preaching Fellowship in 2004 to learn to be neighbor. I was ordained at the St. Paul Area Synod Assembly in June 2007 as a pastor of the Iglesia Luterana Agustina de Guatemala and commissioned for service by two Synods of the ELCA and the Global Mission Unit of the ELCA. I serve in Guatemala with the ILAG as a missionary and a pastor.

Name:
Location: Guatemala

Sunday, September 26, 2004

She looked like any other student...

She looked like any other student at my language school... in Guatemala to learn spanish, and pretty much the granola liberal look. As we talked about why we were in Guatemala, she mentioned that her parents had been missionaries to Guatemala in the early 80's. They were with the Wycliff Bible Institute (who she said have been accused of trafficing weapons during the war) and were here at the height of the war. During the early 80's I believe there were three coups...

Rios Montt was actually a member of her congregation. So as he was realizing policies just shy, or very much so, of genocide... they were worshipping together nearly every Sunday. Her mother still maintains that he is a very good man and that everything that happened bad in his Presidency was the fault of the military not of him.

This classmate of mine also told me about a time when she was about 6 when her mom picked her and a few classmates up from school early. A coup was taking place in the City and they had to go to a safer place... but that meant going through the streets of the City during the war. Her mom picked her up in the station wagon and told all the children to lay down in the back. Then she told them that if they crashed and even if she got shot and killed, they were not to move but remain lying flat in the back of the car.

My classmate and her family had to leave Guatemala shortly afterwards because the situation became too unstable. But she wanted to return and try to have another perspective of Guatemala.

There are many stories here to tell... but few people are listening. On behalf of the people who are sharing their stories with me, thank you for "listening."

My plans took a detour today...

The delegation spending time here with ILAG invited me to go with them to Copan to visit a parish there... so I am going. I decided 20 minutes before I was supposed to be going to the bus... because that was when the pastor asked... I only have my small pack with me which is okay because we have to hike in about 2 hours to get to this community. I also don't have my sleeping bag but have been given a small blanket... so hope that it is not too cold. This is the place where Padre Horacio got Malaria. I bought misquito spray today and tomorrow will buy some rubber boots since it will be really wet and muddy and I also left my closed toed shoes in Xela. It is just an amazing opportunity... This parish is another community made up of returnees from the war (externally displaced). They are a new parish and were formally Catholic so still are holding onto some of the Catholic theology intermixed with Mayan ritual (allowed in the Catholic church here).

I look forward to telling you more about it when I return.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Ronaldo... the story of a guerrilla

Ronaldo is not his real name, but the name that he took on for securityreasons when he joined the Guerrilla force in Guatemala in 1990. But to begin to understand how this man, who has lead me and others up mountainsand to various other cultural sites saftely, you need to also know whathappened to him and his family when he was 7 years old.
The 80`s were a difficult time of repression in Guatemala. At this time Lucas Garcia and Rios Montt were actively into their scortched earth program in which anyone who was organizing the population were accussed ofbeing guerrillas and disappeared (ie. kidnapped, tortured and usuallykilled). The motivation for the army was to intimidate and instill fear in the population to crush any desire to join the popular fight. Ronaldo`s father was a catholic catechist, a campesino (farm worker) leader, and had been organizing a cooperative in his village. He was sympathetic to theguerrillas but not a member. He was a target it turned out.
Ronaldo was seven the night when his family home was surrounded by 80 EXPAC (civilian military force) members and his father was disappeared. The family thought that they would find him dead in the street the nextmorning-- what usually happened, unless the army decided to burn the bodyto limit the number of victims known. But after 15 days of being tortured in a clandestine cemetary, his father was left there alive. He managed tomake it back to his town and was recognized by a priest since he was acatechist... he was naked, and his body was swollen and completely black from the beatings he had received. His father remained in his house almostunconscious because they had no money for the doctor (or food for thatmatter without him working) and it was too dangerous to move him because he was a wanted man.
The community got behind Ronaldo`s family and brought sugar and corn tofeed them. Ronaldo said that he remembers his father yelling day and night because he was in such pain and they only had natural medicine to treathim... for 8 days the family remained in the house. Then they received news that the army was going to come and kill the father and the rest of the family (an EXPAC member who was a friend of his father told the family, a miracle in itself) so they needed to flee and take refuge in Mexico. The father, mother and grandmother did not want to go at first...the father couldn`t even walk after all. But many people helped the family and convinced them that they needed to leave. An uncle found some horsesand they left for Chiapas.
It took them three days to reach Mexico... they had to go on foot where no other people would spot them and could only walk at night. It was a miserable exit... especially since the father could not eat... and the border was almost entirely controlled so every minute contained fear.
Mexico brought new problems... the father couldn`t work and the mother and brothers could not either, and they needed food and clothing. The Catholic Church helped by giving food and medical treatment to the father. The church also contacted another church that was working with other, most Guatemalan, displaced refugees. The refugees in this location did not live in camps but were provided logistical help. The helped they received was wonderful but they were second class (at best) citizens in Mexico. They were only allowed to walk in certain areas of town and not allowed toofficially attend school-- didn`t have the right papers, so could sit in class but were not given graduation certificates when completed. The church set up projects for the refugees so they could work which benefited all the refuges.
During this time, Ronaldo began to study the true situation of what was happening in Guatemala... and he decided to return and do something for his country. He felt that he had to fight for a better future for his country. (He still today said this with such conviction.) He knew the lackof health care, education, and land rights in his country. He knew about the exploitation of workers in fincas, the discrimination towards theindigenous... As he said... I was not forced to go into war but decided onmy own to join the Guerillas.

So he decided to leave his family in Mexico... which was very hard because after what had happened to his father, his mother thought he would be killed. But Ronaldo thought it was necessary, so with that resolve he leftand went into the mountains.
It was very hard in the beginning... food was the most difficult... but the struggle to learn to live in the mountains made the need to have resolve for your decision to join all the more important. At first in the mountains the new members are given basic military training... how to usedifferent weapons, etc. taught by conrads that had been in the war for 4-5years so brought weapons and experience. They were also taught politics because it was very important to be clear on your politics because you were going into war with a weapon. Ronaldo only had 15 days of this training, usually it was more, because their was a combative taking place so they were needed.
In their first combat, all the new people were placed next to experienced people. This was necessary, and it didn`t matter if it was a man or woman that you were matched up with, only the experience mattered. The first few combats were the worst... you were afraid, afraid to lose body parts not necessarily to die... but you still believed it was necessary that you fought and as experience increased fear decreased.
They had several kinds of camps... principal camps deep in the mountainswere they might stay for 1-4 weeks. In these camps, when they were not fighting they would have breakfast between 1 and 5 in the morning and then dinner at 6pm... this way their smoke would be be hidden in the clouds andnot detected. They would eat rice and beans and if possible corn tamallas.The camps of passing would be simply for sleeping or rest. In these camps they would only receive rice and just one meal a day.
While in the mountains, they could march during the day. Men would have 80-90lbs packs on and women 50lbs, walking up hill in volcanos and mountains. Out of the mountains, they would walk at night between 6pm and 3am to avoid being detected... and would not have lights either as they were going through villages. In combat the situation would change... they would go without food for 3-6 days and only have drinking water. They would walk through rain, areas that were controlled in which they had to eat plants or green bananas, and had only 1lb of rice for 10 people. In the mountains in areas with no plants they would not have food for 2-3 days, and had to deal with humidity, and cold temperatures with only a nylon tarp and possibly a small blanket. They would have to let their clothes dry on their bodies if they got wet. Bottom line, if they didn`t have conviction, they wouldn`tbe able to continue under the conditions.
They studied politics, military positioning, why they were involved in the war, and analysis of the present situation in Guatemala... they would also teach those who couldn`t read or write how to do both. Fighting was their principal task but they also had other work such as getting firewood,digging up mailboxes that were buried under ground with information and weapons in them, traveling to other bases to visit contacts, internal security, planting land mines, and cooking.

Ronaldo was 18 years old when he joined. He was in the guerrillas from1990 until the peace accords in 1996. His family has returned to Guatemala and have been resettled in a community of resettled refugees called New Dawn.

As he says... This is my story, not the whole story. Other conrads have different stories. History is not just created by us but by others as well.

Sunday, September 12, 2004

Doors

I have been fascinated by the doors here in Xela... so I have been going around taking pictures of doors! For one thing you don`t have to pay someone for taking a picture of a door as you sometimes do if you want a picture of a person. But more to the point... they (the doors... and no I am not talking to doors now) speak volumnes about life here in Xela.

Many of the doors are metal and solid looking, painted some drab color... these doors are usually attached to homes or stores that appear to be abit better off. The doors that draw me are the wooden doors... most are brightly painted... red, light green, blue, yellow, pale blue... colors that usually constrast and distinguish the door from the wall on either side. Many are warn down... have chipped paint, don`t hang square on their hinges, have large gaps at their base or even plants growing in their lintels or in the stone wall next to them... invariably when the family is not home or the store is not open they have these huge padlocks on them.

I think about my experience here so far... my frustration at not being able to converse properly with the people I meet. The many barriers I feel here-- language wise but also experientially and culturally. It makes sense that I am drawn to the doors... because I want to be allowed in and to know these people who I am encountering. I dislike all the barriers that I constantly feel here. The one home I am invited into here in Xela... I hardly speak in. I am allowed to be among them in their daily coming and going but as a receiver... they feed me at there table, give me a bed to keep me warm at night, a place to bathe... and I have only my presence to offer. It feels as if for this time... I must simply observe and learn through my senses rather than presuming I understand and speaking... I must receive humbling and with limits that I have never experienced to this level before.

These doors have witnessed much... but the people inside have lived through much more. In my lifetime some of these doors (in other communities I have been in even more so) have been visited my soldiers taking loved ones away in the night never to return... or brought news of death, coup, pain, hunger. The doors are worn but for the most part... still thresholds for much joy, much pain... much life.

Posted for you Steve!

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Lucha del movimiento campesino

Okay...this is my report from our conference on Tuesday... I presented this orally so the mistakes were not corrected in the text itself... sorry for any and all mistakes.

El problema de la campesino es un problema de todo de Guatemala. Es un problema sitemático. 500 años en el pasado comenza a la resistencia de indigenous por qúe España exlue las indigenouses. Hoyla movimeinto unión intenta decir la verdad. Ellos esperan ver la democracia de justicia, réal, y fundamencial en el futuro. Pero... Guatemala no es independcia pero otras países freutes controlan a Guatemala.

El centro de problema es la tierra.

Otra vez y otra vez cuando las indigenous intentan el díalago con el gobierno o tierra dueños ellos reciben nada--no la respuesta y no tierra y no compensación... entonces ellos ocupan las fincas.

En 1944-54 esta esperanza en la forma de la Reforma Aguaria. Las gentes llaman a la primavera primera. La Reforma Aguaria dan la tierra del paquete de los gentes y enseñan la agribultura.

Pero UFC (United Food Company) no se gusta la reforma y con los dueños tierras y corporaciónes internacionales apelan a los E.E. U.U (USA). Ellos dicen la reforma aguaria y el gobierno de Guatemala es comunista... necesitamos derrocar el gobierno. CACIF (10 familias poderoso) y UNAGRO (agro exporters) no se gusta campesinos. Estan loco por qúe todos su dinero de los trabajo de los campesinos. Pero ellos piensan las campesinos es enemigos.

Otro vez las campesinos intenten el dialago y reciben nada. La resultado... En 13 Nov 1960 comenzan las movimiento guerrillas y en 1980 la situacion de la embajada España. Otra vez en 1996 las campesinos intentran el dialogo y trabajan legal. En 8 junio 2004, el presidente Berger hace un otra promesa con las campesinos pero en la semana pasado el Presidente viola la promesa. (Finca Nueva Linda was dealt with violently by 800 government soldiers).

El gobierno de Guatemala representa solamente las ricas y el temo económico. Él no representa la genta de Guatemala.

What is a Lutheran?

My first day with my new teacher, we went through the usual... name, where from, what is your occupation. I respond... soy pastora luterana. Granted I am not ordained but it is easier than explaining the I have graduated and after this year hope to receive a call... besides role wise... here I am in the role. Anyway... the next question is so what is a lutheran? So... on my sixth day of spanish study here in Xela... I get to confess! I managed to explain what lutherans believe and how we differ from Catholics. The twist comes during break time when my fellow students ask, in english, what a lutheran is? So for the second time in one day... I get to confess! Some of my classmates have been asking me a lot of questions about Christianity and Lutherans... especially one woman from Australia who really knows nothing about Christianity. So when we sit by eachother on the chicken buses invariably she will have another question.

Both of my teachers have also readily talked about their faith and faith practices. The first was a sweet old Catholic woman who enjoys the tranquility of the church. We would practice reading every day by reading from the bible. Her face would simply lite up when she read... she doesn´t have a bible of her own. At church the focus is the mass so she doesn´t hear much scripture read either. My teacher this week is evangelical... we had fun conversation about where Cain´s wife came from... just like I was in confirmation again.

My host family´s house doubles as an evangelical church on Saturday nights. I sat among them and listened to their prayers (very loud and all talking at once, with the leader talking loudest) and a sermon on James 3:1-10... I wonder if they knew a lutheran was in the room because the preacher was very firm that you cannot be simultaneously a saint and a sinner! I smiled to myself with that one.

Update on Padre Horacio Castillo. He has been home for a little over a week and is doing well. He has had some problems with the sitches but overall is healing beautifully. He is anxious to get back to work!

Take care all.

Sunday, September 05, 2004

Dreams in La Esmerelda

One visit in particular in La Esmerelda was difficult for me... the family were talking about having to sell their chickens to pay for their son´s training and how they might not be able to afford to send their daughter to school as well. While they were sharing this with us, the two youngest returned with 2 liters of Fanta and bread for us all to eat. I received my Fanta in a very dirty glass and drank anyway...

I was invited to attend the Parish council meeting and listen to what the church is up to in La Esmerelda. They are busy training leaders, with the help of Padre Horacio and Jose Antonio, to be catechists and pastors. They are in the middle of building an office and hope to one day have a football field. They would also like to find a way to supplement the sub-par education their children are receiving. They don´t just want to help the children of the parish but of the whole community because they want to be seen as a church who shares with all. God bless this parish and community.

La Esmerelda wedding

When our delegation arrived in La Esmerelda we were warmly welcomed. Part of our welcome was a brief service... in that service Matthew 28 (the great commission) was read. A catechist gave a message about how they cannot travel far but they can still teach, preach and baptize here in La Esmerelda.

Caterina and Santiago´s wedding was beautiful. She was dressed head to knee in an outfit that she had woven and embordered herself. A sheer vail was draped down her back... still allowing everyone to see the beautiful workmanship of her outfit. Santiago was well dressed only completed by his enormous smile. Janet and John accompianed the couple up the the front of the church to sit on wooden benches upon the concrete floor. This couple was married civily years ago... and already have 5 beautiful children. Santiago wants to study to be a catechist so they must be married in the church as well now.

Padre Horacio had a beautiful sermon... much of it about women´s contribution and importance in the community. How men should walk behind women not in front to support and catch them if they stumble. How love grows in the heart and how important and difficult understanding is. How when a man first likes a womean he tells her how beautiful she is... and that he should still be telling his wife that when they are old. How he shouldn´t be embarrassed to hold her hand in public.

In the wedding, Padre Horacio tied a white ribbon around the couple which bound them together the rest of the service. Sontiago also had coins taht he placed in Caterina´s hands-- as a promise to provide for her and their family. They met in the mountain during the war under a tree when they had no food. They spoke different languages but in the suffering... they were still able to understand eachother.

Hope even for a Prostitute

One of the striking images for me in San Salvador was that of a prostitute dressed in blue... the color of hope... standing outside the National Lutheran Church in El Salvador soliciting people after the service. The service was to celebrate the 7th anniversary of Hope House... so when no one accepted her offers she followed us to the serving line and was among the first of 200 to eat that day. She was an image of hope for me.

Meeting Martha

Okay... her real name is Maria Trinidad and she lives and works in El Salvador... but she is Martha. She is literally being used up for others in her vocation at Hope House and everything else that she does. You can see it in her hands... wore from years of labor... and her face that is aged but still vital with transparent joy in her eyes.

Our delegation in El Salvador was taken care of by her and her family. One night they invited us to her home... our text for that day was Luke 14:12-24... we were the ones at the table that night compelled to come by Doña Trini. She lives in a squatter home 3 feet from the railroad tracks. The home was built with bricks a catholic priest gave her after she spent 7 months in prison. Right now most of the beds from their house are in Hope House so that we have a place to sleep... they gave us their table and their beds!

Doña Trini was very active during and after the war both reclaiming land (helping people return who had been forced out) and resettling refugees and helping children find their parents or be adopted. Well over 1000 children and nearly as many families. About 60 years old now, she is amazing. Such hope and joy and such suffering and pain. Her husband and oldest son were murdered. She and others frequently have to pass the very place were they themselves or those they loved were tortured... the building is still in San Salvador.

Poem by Cheryl Hawkinson

I got this poem on a card from a member of my home church... It has been very fitting for how I have felt pushed and pulled by people who are passionate but don´t always stop to see if I am passionate for the same thing they are.
Sometimes it´s hard
to sing your own song
when everyone else
wants you to sing theirs.
People can be full of advice
about what you should do
and when you should do it, and where.
They usually mean well,
but nobody can know exactly
what is right for you-- except you.
So I don´t want to give you
advice you don´t need
I just want to say--
Have faith in yourself
(I would add trust that God is true to His promises.)
and listen to your heart.
Within you lies
some very special music
just waiting to be sung by you alone.
(I would add, that I have been blessed and God will use me in the world.)

Saturday, September 04, 2004

Laguna Chikobal

This morning bright and early (6am) 10 students and one Guatemalan gathered outside our school to begin an adventure to Laguna Chikobal. All I knew was that we had to leave early so that we could get there before the clouds moved in and covered the lake. So we boarded a microbus, traveled to the bus terminal... and then onto a chicken bus for a 45 minute drive to the stop for Chikobal. It cost 5Q instead of the usual 3Q because so many of us looked American. 8Q= $1 We got off the bus and started our climb. It was steep and at a high altitude (Xela is 8000ft already and this was an additional 600 meters up). We really struggled to hike up this mountain... meanwhile were being passed by 5 year old boys, machettes in hand going to work for the day... school is not a reality for most of the indigenous children here, a big problem. As the boys walk by they say uno quetzala... the price for a picture of them... they know the drill of internationals coming through.
The area of the mountain is protected environmentally and enforced by the municipality... so when we had to pay our 15Q to enter the last 1600meter trek, the money went to the local not the national government which was nice. They have done a good job cleaning up since the war... which had been very active in the area of this mountain.
The view was phenominal and probably worth the hike and now the headache from the altitude switch. The Laguna is considered a sacred place for the Mayan and so you see circles of burn by the lake where rituals were preformed and flowers stuck in the water during ceremonies. It was a strange mix for me because a few members of my group have asked me questions about Christianity and why it is responsible for so much violence and distruction of culture etc. Some very good conversations have resulted.
My hour is up at the internet cafe so... more later.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Looking up and out

Today for the first time when I walked back to my host family´s house by myself, I looked up into the mountains and down some of the other streets. I had been so afraid previously after hearing all the stories of robbery that I walked head down, eyes moving around, and feet moving swiftly. I am still a bit frightened to venture further but once I can speak a bit better, I will feel more comfortable I am sure.

Yesterday, my school had an excursion to a nearby village called Salcahá. It has the oldest church in Central America... over 400 years old. Across the street, we knocked on a non-descript door (interesting that 20 minutes into our visit another small group knocked on the door for the same reason)and entered a black market brewery of a drink called "Líquido de Flores" or Salcahá ... which is illegal but the government knows that it is made. I bought a bottle which was poured from a big vat on the floor of their laundary room into previously used Johnnie Walker Whiskey bottles. I think I found the most enjoyment out of the fact that it is right across from a church.

While we were doing that a Finca (farm) on the coast was being raided by 800 soliders. The families working the Finca had been there for generations, and many had not received compensation for 36 months. They protested to the government and were ignored so they occupied the Finca. Upon their occupation the Padreno appealed to the government and received 800 troops with weapons to evict these families. Many died in the situation yesterday.

Quite the mix for just one day.

Sugar and Salt

During the war, many who were either living in the mountains to escape being killed or in refugee camps did not have access to sugar or salt. Their food was very bland. When you hear the accounts of people who lived through this time invariably you will hear about the lack of sugar and salt. Move ahead to today… the majority of the food that I have eaten is either very salty or very sweet. I don´t enjoy the high concentrations per se but knowing the reason behind does make a difference. Reminds me of Matthew 6:1.

Here in Xela, I have to take the sugar with the salt as well. I arrived here on Monday, the 30 of August and was alone for the first time in a month! A friend of the Castillo family drove me here from the capital and we were able to converse for a good portion of the almost 4 hour drive. It is amazing to experience first hand the selfless hospitality of so many. I arrived an hour late to the introduction… but I would not have wanted to leave Guatemala City any earlier than 5:30 am so oh well… We finished orientation and I meet my teacher for the week. We talked a bit and then I am given my Spanish test… which I did okay on considering I have only had a few hours of instruction ever in Spanish. Then she wants me to write some words down… well I have not learned the alphabet or how to read yet so that was a bit hard and very frustrating. Bottom line by the time I got to my host family I was holding back the tears… tough day!

Major lesson… I cannot possibly be fluent yet in Spanish so I have to quit expecting that I can get it right the first time. Realistic expectations of myself… muy importante.