So long Guatemala, Hello Nicaragua!

Wow. Where to even begin.

Our time in Guatemala is a difficult one to put into words. I can say how we spent our days or who we met, but the most profound part of the experience lies somewhere in that inexplicable corner of your soul, the deepest most profound part of you, but the most difficult to express in a way that does it justice.

In a sense, it was much less about what we did day to day, than how it made us feel. Don´t get me wrong, the day to day was great- we would wake up, go to the mission for an AMAZING breakfast with all 100ish volunteers and find out the jobs we could do that day. After breakfast we would do things like reforestation work, break rock, construction, organizing/cleaning, sorting coffee beans, or (if we were lucky) help make artisan wooden spoons. After that we would return for an equally amazing lunch, work in the afternoon and dinner again with all the volunteers (who come from all over the US but the majority are from Minnesota). We met wonderful lifelong friends; like Erin from New York, Jack from Minneapolis, Roberta from Los Angeles, Paul from Apple Valley, and Matt from Pennsylvania. We shared stories and laughs, and learned much about the history, culture, and traditions of the community. We quickly took on leadership responsabilities in the mission: I led tours, interpreting for lots of people, including interpreting for Chona´s talk. It was a wonderful glipse into the life of a long term volunteer. All this was wonderful, we were being helpful and it helped shape our trip tremendously. However, I experienced the common sentiment that I was getting more out of this experience than I could ever put in.

It's a fine mystery, trying to pinpoint the origin of the peace and tranquilty that engulf you from the moment you arrive. It's like a cool breeze off the lake that reaches through you and settles right in your soul. One huge gift that Guatemala gave me is a renewed interest in faith and spirituality. Blame it on my youth, my cynicism, or overall disdain for authority (thanks Irish blood), but prior to our time in Guatemala, I didn't feel a huge religious connection on this trip. But there was something about this place, something that touched me very deeply and gave me clarity and spoke to my own personal spiritual beliefs. This church wasn´t working for the people, they were working with the people, Catholic or not. Social justice was the name of the game, and liberation theology was the philosophy. I found myself praying for the first time in what seemed like years, and spending time reading, searching, and reflecting. Though I am far from devout, for the time it seems I am back on the journey.

We left Guatemala with mixed excitement and sadness. We couldn't wait to see what Nicaragua had in store for us (after our 2 day bus ride, of course). Three of the four of us (Cory, Jeanne and myself) studied abroad in Nicaragua and Costa Rica two years ago, and we couldn't wait to go back to see how things had changed/stayed the same. As the bus rolled into Granada however, I was overcome by the familiarity of my surroundings and the normalcy of being back. In many respects, it was as if we had never left.

We had the pleasure of the company of some of our wonderful friends who came for this past week for their spring break: Christie Cleaves and Kristin Racchini (both studied abroad in Nicaragua and Costa Rica last year and were founding members of LASED- our organization dedicated to sustainability, education and development projects in Latin America), and Gina Ploessl, Cory's sister, first time out of the country. We packed a lot in in that week; visiting the beach at San Juan del Sur, the market at Masaya, a volcanic crater lagoon at Laguna de Apoyo, and Isla Ometepe- the Island with two volcanoes in Lake Nicaragua. (Fun fact: Lake Nicaragua is the only place in the world where you can find freshwater sharks!) We had a wonderful time, and it was so great to finally share a central american experience with Christie and Kristin, as well as be there with Gina to see her experience it for the very first time.

So now here we are, gearing up for our three weeks of volunteer work in the community of El Fortín, outside of Granada. For those of you who don't know, when we studied abroad we did a service project in this community. We built a greenhouse, planted herbs to be sold at the market, planted fruit trees, and spent a lot of time with the kids. The subsequent study abroad groups have continued this effort, working on different projects from education, to health and sustainable development. The conditions for the people who live there are not the easiest- Nicaragua is the second poorest country in the hemisphere after Haiti, and making ends meet, especially in a community like El Fortín, is brutally hard. Most of the families have tough decisions to make- do they send their kids to school, spending $35 a year on uniforms and supplies, or do they send their kids to work, and maybe earn a little more for the family? We saw a need in this community, and we decided to take action.

In the spring of 2008, our two study abroad groups came together and formed LASED (Latin American Sustainability Education and Development). We have raised a few thousand dollars for educational scholarships, sustainable developement projects, healthcare and nutition programs, as well as fundraising for a bridge that is desperately needed. We held the first annual El Fortín 5K Marathon last May, Eau Claire will host another this May. If you are in the area, please take part or donate to this wonderful cause!

Okay, enough of my shameless plug. We are very excited to begin work in El Fortín. We will be mostly working as community health workers, taking census information, talking about parasite prevention and other health concerns, as well as nutrition education. This is extremely important because when the other study abroad group tested the kids in El Fortín for intestinal parasites, 100% of them tested postive. We'll also probably be doing some construction and tutoring the kids.

Life is going great, and I could not be happier. All of a sudden 3 1/2 months seems far too short.

Ghosts, memories, testimonies

There are places where the past is no more past than the lingering smell of this morning´s meal. Places where things live on, perhaps not in action, perhaps not materially, but they live on nonetheless, an everpresent reminder in a people´s psyche.

´La Violencia´. This is what the time of the civil war is called here- ´The Violence´. A time of untold horror, a time of unspeakable cruelty, a time of countless atrocities and acts so inhumane it seems unfathomable that they could be carried out by people. Sons. Fathers. Uncles. There are many stories from this time, testimonies only now beginning to be told, only now coming into light, after so many years of forced silence. They weave together to form a tapestry of, at once, the resilience of the human condition, and of the horrors that man can commit. There are many, many stories from this time. Today I had the opportunity to hear one such story.

Her name is Chona. She has worked at the mission for the past 42 years, primarily as a cook, though during ´La Violencia´, her role was much more. Here is her story.

The story of our life here is very hard- 1980, ´81 and ´82 were very difficult years. I am the mother of four, and during the time of ´La Violencia´, we here in the parish worked on behalf of the suffering people in our community- you see, lots of people here had problems either because of the military or because of the guerillas. The guerillas would come and offer the Mayans lots of incentives to join: more land, money, anything to get them to join. During this time, there was much violence at the hands of both, and one had to be completely neutral: if you were to help one person on one side, the other side would come after you and your family.

Before the peace accords in 1996, we were not allowed to talk about ´La Violencia´; it was too dangerous. Though there was violence everywhere, we here in the highlands were hit the hardest by the military forces.

It is very hard for me to talk about this. I lost my husband to the military, and when I am telling the story I relive the moment. I know I am not the only one who suffered, there were many. I know people whose parents were killed in front of them; whose children were killed in front of them.

I didn´t see my husband murdered. He worked on a land redistribution project, so for his work, the military accused him of being a guerilla. At this time you couldn´t do anything to help the people; by helping others you were accused of being a guerilla. One day, my husband was working with some final paperwork on a project, and went to meet with some lawyers in Sololá. He never returned. We were told that he was taken by the military- dissapeared. 28 years ago this happened. We were never told any more.

Still, it feels like yesterday. The pain I remember the most is trying to take care of my children; night after night staying at different houses for fear that the military would come and kill me and my children in the night. I had to fight hard for my children and I prayed hard for the strength to help others.

In 1982 I had to help a group of children. I knew that the military was on their trail, looking for them and would certainly kill them.

Only Father Greg and I knew the movements of the guerillas and the military. We could tell no one and we worked together many times to save others.

One day, a priest in the Quiché region called Father Greg asking for his help, saying there was a group of children who neede to be saved. Their parents were killed right in front of them, and by the grace of God, somehow they escaped and survived. The military knew that they had witnessed the murders and so they were looking for them to kill them as well, to leave no trail, no witnesses.

So the priest asked Father Greg to help get them and bring them to a local orphanage. All in all, there were eleven kids from two families, the youngest were one year and a year and a half.

¨How do we get them out?¨ Father Greg asked me. ¨If the military finds out, they´ll kill us all. But, if we do nothing, they´ll kill the children. How are we going to get them out?¨

I told him ¨Look for a car and a driver and I will go get them myself.¨ So we got a car and a driver and we went to Quiché. There were three military checkpoints along the way. I went with a letter for the priest from Father Greg saying that I was coming to get the kids. I was so scared and worried about what would happen if we were caught. I told the priest to tell the children that if the military asked, that I was their mother. Only, I was scared because I was only 30 at the time, and there were 11 kids. They´ll never believe me.

The priest said that he would pray for us. I told the kids- tell them I am your mother and that we were coming to visit family in Quiché, but that you are from San Lucas Tolíman. So, we left and the kids were very sad to leave their family, their home, all that they knew. It still hurts my heart to think of them. I remember the eldest child hiding the suitcases of their few belongings under the seat, so as to not upset the other children.

At the first military checkpoint, everyone was scared, shaking and crying. I told the children ¨Don´t worry, calm down, the military will want to talk to me not you, we´ll be fine. But, if they see you crying, they´ll never believe us and they´ll kill us all.¨ The officer stopped us asking what I was doing here with all these kids. I told him that I was their mother and we were coming back from visiting family in Quiché. Another officer told him to take us all out of the car to question us, but by luck, the first officer said, ´no just check around the perimeter of the car for weapons.´ And they let us go.

At the second military checkpoint, again all the children were scared and crying. I thought ahead of time to bring candy, and I gave each of them a piece of candy, so they would be distracted when we got to the checkpoint. Again, an officer asked ¨Where are you taking all these kids?¨ Again, I told him, I am their mother and we are coming back from visiting family in Quiché. I felt bad because the eldest children were holding the younger ones as I was talking to the military, because they were still scared of me because I was a stranger. And thank God, once again, they only checked the outside of the car before letting us go.

At the third military checkpoint, the kids were again scared and crying. I told them this time ¨Let´s pray together¨ so that when the military came, they would see that we were praying. Again, an officer approached the car and asked ¨Who are you? Where are you going with all these kids?¨ I told him that I was their mother and that we were from San Lucas Tolíman, just coming back from visiting family in Quiché. The officer yelled to the others ¨Take them out of the car.¨ Another officer said ¨No, they´re kids, they don´t have weapons, they´re fine, leave them.¨ By the grace of God, they let us go.

When we were finally just outside San Lucas Tolíman, I turned to the children and told them we have arrived, thank God, we are saved, we are free. You´ll have a home, Father Greg will take care of you and no one will come after you in the night. You can laugh, you can cry, because thank God, you are safe, you are free.

Three of the children stayed in town and are now married with children. For christmas every year, there is a tradition of eating tamales and bread, and they brought me these telling me ¨Thank you, you are our mother.¨

From that time, Father Greg and I helped many people with problems with the military and guerillas. We helped children, families, and the religious as well because at this time many religious were being killed. And to help all of these people, we were accused of being guerrillas by the government. We recieved a letter from the military saying that they were going to kill us for this work we were doing, so we were forced to flee to the United States for five months.

When we returned, I took up my work helping the widows, and I still help sell their weavings and crafts, to help them support their families.

This is my story. There are many others. Thank you and God bless you all.

Back to beginnings-- Guatemala

GUATEMALA! As I have said before, my first trip to Guatemala five years ago changed my life. At the time, I was an insecure 18 year old with a big heart, but little life experience. My path to Guatemala actually began four years earlier: I was taking a Spanish class at the high school and a group came and talked to us about their service trip to San Lucas Toliman, Guatemala. I was mesmorized, and in December 2003, I finally got my wish: I was accepted to go on the Guatemala trip.

To say that it changed and impacted me is a laughable understatement. Much of what I am today; much of what I am passionate about and people on campus knew me for: coordinator of trips to the School of the Americas protest, president of the Latin American Sustainability Education and Development, and the Latin American Studies Club, fundraiser for sustainable development and humanitarian aid projects, advocate for social justice-- much of all this was born out of and shaped by my time here.

We have been here five days and it´s amazing how quickly things come back. The smell of wood-burning stoves, the sounds of marimbas and ranchero music, the colorful huipiles (women´s traditional woven blouses), the stunning scenery, the smiles and ¨buenos dìas¨of everyone you pass, and the overwhelming feeling of being at peace: all uniquely spell Guatemala to me. It is incredible coming back to a place that played such a pivitol role in shaping the person I am today. There is something about this place that fills me with such unbridled happiness and peace, and at the same time such a motivation and drive for social justice work. So far, our time here has been spent sorting coffee beans, working on reforestation projects, helping make wooden artisan works for sale, and going to other communities, learning all we can about guatemala, social justice and liberation theology (and meeting some wonderful people along the way!).

San Lucas Toliman is located in the Mayan highlands of Guatemala on the shores of Lake Atitlan, surrounded by three volcanoes. This is an area of at once rich cultural heritage and a devistating history of bloodshed. In the 1950´s Guatemala had it´s first democratically elected president Jacobo Arbenz, and one thing that he recognized people were suffering from was lack of land (at this time about two dozen families owned almost all the land in Guatemala, forcing the vast majority of Guatemalans to ´work´on coffee plantations (work is a relative term, it would be looked at more like indentured servitude today)). Anyways, one of the biggest landholders in Guatemala was the United Fruit Company (now Chiquita). Arbenz decides to go through with his land redistribution, so notifies United Fruit Company and tells them that the government will pay them per acre the value of their land, as they claimed on their taxes. Well, United Fruit claimed much less than it was worth, and they were furious, and some of the board members were also in the CIA. So, in 1954, the CIA orchestrated a coup d'ètat to depose of the democratically-elected Jacobo Arbenz. There was a devestating 36-year civil war, which culminated with a horrific genecide at the hands of (among others) General Efraín Rios Montt in the 1970s and 80s. Death squads, dissapearances, massacres of whole villages, extortion, rape, and assasinations were commonplace, many times daily occurences. According to the U.N. Truth Commission, the Guatemalan government forces were responsible for over 93% of the human rights violations during the war. During the first 10 years of the war, they targeted students, workers, religious persons, professionals, and opposition figures, but in the last years it was thousands of mostly rural Mayan farmers and non-combatants. Over 450 Mayan villages were destroyed and over 1 million people became internal and external refugees. The civil war ended with the signing of the peace accords in 1996.

Despite all the bloodshed and violent past, Guatemala remains the most entrancing, loving, and, yes, magical, place I have ever been. It´s ironic how a place with such a violent past (and, very often, present) inspires the deepest sense of peace I have ever known.

Well, it´s back to work for us. Cory just left to shoot a wedding in Mexico for a week, and so it´s just us girls holding down the fort for awhile. Here are some pictures courtesy of my friend Mira, from my last time down here:

Market in Santiago AtitlanAna and Miriam