Last Night in Guatemala

I can't believe this is my last blog post that I'm writing to you from Guatemala. The other girls keep talking about how they feel like the time went by so fast and how they blinked and it's over. I feel the opposite. I feel like I've been here for like a year. Maybe longer. I've lived an entire different life here. It seems like a really long, vivid dream, and I'm getting ready to wake up. The new version of normal that I've become accustomed to, is now about to be erased entirely as I return to  my new, old normal. This whole experience will just be a memory from now on.

But this memory will stay with me for a lifetime. Everything I learned here, everything I have seen and done. It was so much more than just learning Spanish. I jumped right in to the culture and adapted to life as the locals live, and as a result, I feel like I had a much richer experience. My Spanish of course improved. But the connections I formed here were what changed me. I have felt more love here, more connection of the human spirit on a deeper level than I've ever had before. The love shown to me by my host families, teachers, and people I met in passing, has shown me how deep love can really be. That kind of love really changes you.

Tomorrow, along with my 3 heavy suitcases of things I bought, I will be carrying a heavy heart full of love, and thoughts that I am still processing, back to the United States with me. The suitcases might take me a few days to unpack. The thoughts will take a lot longer. I'll be processing what I've seen and learned here for quite some time after I get home. There were hardships and hurts, of course, but so much more that was beautiful and pure and rich here. It will take a whole to sort through everything and plenty that I may never understand. I'm okay with unanswered questions. That's what makes life interesting.

No puedo creer que esta sea mi última publicación de blog que te escribo desde Guatemala. Las otras chicas siguen hablando de cómo se sienten que el tiempo pasó tan rápido y cómo parpadearon y se acabó. Siento lo contrario. Siento que he estado aquí por un año. Tal vez mas largo he vivido una vida completamente diferente aquí. Parece un sueño muy largo y vívido, y me estoy preparando para despertarme. La nueva versión de normal a la que me he acostumbrado ahora está a punto de borrarse por completo cuando regrese a mi nueva y vieja normalidad. Toda esta experiencia será solo un recuerdo de ahora en adelante. 

Pero este recuerdo se quedará conmigo para toda la vida. Todo lo que aprendí aquí, todo lo que he visto y hecho. Era mucho más que aprender español. Me entré directamente a la cultura y me adapté a la vida que viven los locales, y como resultado, siento que tuve una experiencia mucho más rica. Mi español por supuesto mejoró. Pero las conexiones que formé aquí fueron las que me cambiaron. He sentido más amor aquí, más conexión con el espíritu humano en un nivel más profundo que nunca antes. El amor que me mostraron mis familia, los maestros y las personas que conocí de pasada, me ha demostrado cuán profundo puede ser realmente el amor. Ese tipo de amor realmente me cambia.

Mañana, junto con mis 3 maletas pesadas de cosas que compré, llevaré un gran corazón lleno de amor y pensamientos que todavía estoy procesando, de regreso a los Estados Unidos conmigo. Las maletas pueden tardar unos días en desempacar. Los pensamientos tardarán mucho más. Estaré procesando lo que he visto y aprendido aquí durante bastante tiempo después de llegar a casa. Hubo dificultades y heridas, por supuesto, pero mucho más que era hermoso, puro y rico aquí. Tardará un todo para examinar todo y un montón de cosas que nunca pueda entender. Estoy bien con preguntas sin respuesta. Eso es lo que hace la vida interesante.

Ready to Go

It's hard to believe that we only have one week left here. Everyone keeps talking about how time has passed so quickly here, but I haven't experienced that at all. I feel like I've lived a whole other lifetime here. I can't believe it's been 7 weeks. That doesn't seem like nearly enough time to encompass everything that I've seen, everything that I've experienced, and everything I've learned. I have had such an amazing, deep experience here. I can't even put into words everything that I've learned, and I probably will still be learning for years to come.
Today is our last day in Quetzaltenango. The weather is beautiful, cool, and still, just like it has been here since we arrived. I love the climate here. I didn't ever need to pack my 3 sweatshirts. I never used them. I'm considering leaving quite a bit of clothes here for others to use. I know they need it more than I do.
I'm not sure yet what will change when I get back to the US. I know I want to do more to help people, especially immigrants, now that I know what they've been through to get there. I didn't know much about the process before coming here. I also think that I will be able to appreciate my loved ones on a whole new level. Sometimes it takes living out of a suitcase for a while, to appreciate stability. I'm feeling ready to go home.

Leaving Again

It's with a sad heart that I get ready to leave my second family here in Guatemala. They have seen me through so much. They have fed me, cared for me while I was sick, brought me medicine, asked me how I'm doing, and showed me more love than I could ever imagine. They've taught me what it looks like to love without expecting anything in return. So often, when we are hurt over and over again, it gets very easy to become bitter and distrust people in general. We start to assume that everyone had a hidden agenda, and no one is kind unless they want something. This family reminded me that love is always out there, if I remember to keep looking for it. They showed me that I can just accept love, and don't always have to do anything in return.

So many circumstances happened to me this week that reinforced that lesson. My teacher was especially kind, patient, and understanding with me this week as I was trying to learn Spanish while battling the flu. My friends in my group brought me Kleenex and medicine, and took my laundry to the laundromat for me so I wouldn't have to walk that whole distance. The lady at the pharmacy remembered me when I came back to get more cold medicine and asked how I was feeling. Overall, in spite of being sick, I am thankful that I was forced to receive love, because it showed me a tender side of human nature.

Before I left, one of the goals that Sonja set for me, was to learn how to receive. I have always been the one to give, the one to help, the one to care for others. I am not good at having all attention on me, because I'm used to that coming with a price. Favors aren't usually free. That person will eventually expect something in return, and there's no guarantee that I'll be able to follow through with their request. But this week, and this trip, have shown me that I can be loved and not feel selfish. I can be tired and not be judged. I can be sick and get cared for. I can be less than perfect, and that's okay.

We have 15 days left of our journey here. I can't believe it's gone this fast, but at the same time, it feels like I've been here a lifetime.

The Acceptance of La Llorona

Acceptance of La Llorona (Mis Pequeños Triunfos, Cómo Me Adapto)

Cuando era niña, yo sufrí mucho abuso. De familia, de amigos, de compañeras de clase. Todo el tiempo, cuando yo trataba una actividad nueva, yo fracasaba mucho. El fracaso no me molestaba mucho. Lo que me afectaba más era la humillación, intimidación, y el castigo que venia con eso. Como resulto, yo lloraba. Durante cada partido de deportes, yo era la más lenta. Durante cada lección de clase, era la ultima en aprender. Aunque con las cosas que yo era buena, nunca recibía reconocimiento, porque había siempre una persona mejor. Mi mejor intento nunca fue lo suficientemente bueno para nadie. Para mis maestras, mis padres, mis amigos. Nadie.
Pero, nunca he dejado de intentarlo. Pero ahora, yo lloro mucho. Para mí, llorar y luchar es lo mismo. Es como yo libero el dolor, entonces el no dolor no se queda adentro, y no se convierte en odio. Mientras yo siga llorando, yo siga amando, y yo siga cuidando. Solamente lloro por cosas que me importan. Si no me importa, no me molesta. Entonces, cuando yo lloro, no es siempre porque estoy triste. Lloro porque estoy frustrada, porque cuando yo fracaso, me siento como si yo fracasara siempre mi vida. Lloro porque mi mejor intento todavía no es suficiente. Lloro porque otras personas han tenido peores experiencias, pero ellos no lloran. Yo concluyo que yo soy débil. Lloro porque a pesar de mis triunfos, todavía me siento como una fracasada. Lloro porque aún yo lecho, aún yo cuido, después de que otros se han rendido. No me enojo nunca. Mientras yo sigo llorando, yo sigo perseverando, yo continúo siendo mejor. En el momento que dejo de llorar, dejaría de ser una humana.


There have been so many triumphs of this trip that I feel like I should have made a list. However, by journaling every day, I will be able to go back and see how far I've come. In addition to my improved ability to speak and understand Spanish, I feel like I have had two major personal triumphs: accepting mediocrity, and embracing what everyone has affectionately started referring to as La Llorona.
Accepting Mediocrity. I have always strived to be an overachiever, but perhaps for different reasons than most. I never wanted to be the best in order to beat anybody else, or make anyone else look bad. In fact, I'm usually the one to encourage others and help them along the way with the secrets of success that I learned the hard way. I never wanted recognition, or awards, or to be rich. I only wanted not to fail. By constantly doing more than I had to, I was ensuring that I couldn't possibly fail. Failure was always the dark shadow that lurked in the corner, the beating from my mom for forgetting to take out the trash, the ridicule from my classmates for losing us the spelling competition on a word that should have been easy, the disapproval from my teachers for yet one more missing homework assignment. So I took all that anxiety and put it to work for me instead of against me. My life was a series of carefully planned do-to lists, constantly arranged and rearranged for maximum effectiveness, to be ahead and above the median of the group, so there was no chance to be in last place.
The problem with this mindset is that in learning a new language, visiting a new country, and experiencing a new culture cannot possibly be done perfectly. I was bound to make mistakes. I was not going to be an overachiever here, no matter how hard I tried. But things are different this time. One major telling indicator is that I  haven't checked my to-do list once since we got here. The incessant audio track of “Have to get ___ done by __ o'clock” that played on repeat in my head every minute of the day, stopped, as soon as I woke up in Dos Lunas. For first time, I had been given expressed permission, verbally, to allow myself to be mediocre. I was able to make mistakes and not be punished for them. I was able to forget things and not be judged. I was able to try and fail, and be met with love and encouragement to keep trying.
La Llorona
The second, and probably the most important triumph so far, has been accepting a big part of who I am, despite the opinions and negative judgments of others. When I cried the first time in Guatemala City at the museum, I distinctly remember the first meeting where we were told, “It's okay to cry, as long as you're not crying all the time.” I heard only the last part of that sentence, and felt like I was no longer in a safe place. I do cry all the time. I have always been known as the one who cries all the time which is usually equated with the weakest of the group. So I tried as hard as I could to fight it the whole time I was here, especially since there are those in the group who see crying as weakness. As the weeks went on, though, it became harder and harder to fight. I was arriving home too tired to cry myself to sleep, and I didn't want to deal with the headache that followed the next morning. When I got frustrated at school, I would try to hold it back but the same feelings of failure and frustration still came, and had to come out my eyes somehow. It got to the point where my teacher affectionately nicknamed me “La Llorona,” and it caught on. But on Thursday this week, something magical happened.
I had one of the biggest meltdowns I've had so far this whole trip. It started at the table, with a small exercise on subjunctive tense, but I was frustrated. I was frustrated because I still didn’t get it after 3 days of trying, and still didnt feel like I understood the lesson from the week before, and was running on 4 hours of sleep because I was sick.  She told me that she had cancer and she didn't cry about it, so I shouldn't cry about an exercise in Spanish. That made me feel even worse, because now I knew she thought I was weak, and it was accompanied by the frustration of not even being able to tell her why I was frustrated. One thing built up on the other, and the meltdown was bad enough that I had to hide in the bathroom for 30 minutes while I got it all out. The frustration, the failures, the struggle, the pressure, the fatigue, the pain. It was a lot to get rid of. My teacher came to check on me, and it wasn't until she saw me like that, that she understood that the tears were not even remotely about the subjunctive tense exercise. I calmed down enough to go home for the break, redo my makeup, come back, and start writing a story.
I wrote the Spanish story above, first in English, and then she helped me translate it into Spanish. Ironically, it uses both perfect tense and subjunctive tense, both of which had made me cry prior this week. After I was done, I let her read it. It was such a gift that she gave to me. She gave me words to explain my struggle. I'm keeping that essay to explain to Spanish teachers in the future what to expect. She also took me up to the roof and explained to me that I shouldn't be embarrassed about what other people think, because they don't know my struggle and where the tears really come from.
As I was processing that, I was given another unexpected gift, in the form of another student peeing her pants at the fútbol game. We've known about her problem from the beginning and laughed about it with her. But she owned it. Her problem doesn't embarrass her because she chooses to own it and make it part of who she is. I figured, if she can pee her own pants as a grown woman and laugh it off and own it, I can own La Llorona, too. It took something that usually embarrasses me, and gave me power. I only have to be embarrassed about it if I want to. If it helps me cope, then I’m going to take it. It’s much better than trying to fight myself all the time or hold in the pain and let it fester. Now when La Llorona hits, I will let it happen, accept it, and then once I have gotten it all out, move forward again.

The Word "Tranquila"

As with most languages, one word can have several different meanings. One of the most beautiful words I have come to know so far is the word, "tranquila." The first time I heard it was in La Labor, with the psycho little Chihuahua puppy, Yogi. Whenever he would flip out and start biting everything, my cousin would tell him "tranquila!" as she pet his head and tried to get him to stop biting her. The second time I heard it was on my last night there, when I began to cry because I knew I would miss that family so much. 

It took me a while to figure out the "Tranquila" means "Calm down." But not in the same way Americans use it. "Calm down" is an impersonal phrase. It's a command. "Calm down" often translates to: "I know you're upset. I don't like that you're upset. It's bothering me. But I am not going to do anything to help. So you have to be the one to change how you feel." Which is why, telling someone to calm down is about as productive as trying to baptize a cat. It's not going to work. Ever.

"Tranquila" has a different context. It is a warm hug your host mom gives you, the softness of her body enveloping your face, as if she's trying to squeeze the pain and sadness right out of you. It is a gentle stroking of your shoulder by a Guatemalan host sister with the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen, that hold all the love needed to wash your pain away. It's the kindness on a teacher's face when she finds you crying in the bathroom and reassures you that you're not stupid just because you can't figure out how to use subjunctive tense, in Spanish, after only 5 hours of sleep. 

It's not a command. You don't have to calm down if you don't feel like it. But you better believe that person is going to do what they can to help. "Tranquila" translates, in context, to, "I'm here to help you find a happier state of mind, and I will love you until you're calm again." 

Money Matters

It's true that when people are desperate for money, they will do anything they're able to, whether it's work as a maid, sell handmade cloths and shirts, beg, or in some cases, steal. However, on that topic, there is a lot less theft than I was subconsciously expecting here. I have been keeping a watchful eye on my phone and my bag whenever I'm walking in the streets but so far, pick pocketing doesn't seem to be as much of a problem as I had anticipated. There are a lot more street vendors than I expected, though. In the park there is always someone wandering around with a giant tray full of random snacks, gum, candy, and cigarettes. I have to wonder how much money they make in a day. I also observed that our drivers in La Labor and in Guatemala City were also more generous with buying gum from street vendors, giving money to children in the street begging, or giving money to the people washing their windows. In America, a lot of people see a homeless man begging on the street and roll up their windows to drive away. 
While stealing isn't as much of a problem, cheating is. This topic first came up with my host family in Xela when they complimented me on my Spanish accent. They then went on to tell me that when I'm shopping with my friends at the street vendors, to make sure that I do all the talking, because the vendors will charge more to the “gringas” since they assume that we don't know any better. My teachers at PLQ said the same thing. I had my eye on a pair of athletic pants in one of the secondhand stores near the school, and the store owner was asking 70Q for them. Not a bad price. I asked my teacher what a good price was for clothing here and she told me that it was a little bit high. She walked with me to the store and talked him down to 60Q. She told me that a lot of store owners won't post the prices on their merchandise so they can charge whatever price they think the gringos will fall for. My teacher told me a story about how the bus that she used to get to work would consistently charge 10Q to the gringos on the bus who looked like they didn't know what the price was, and charge 5Q to everyone else. It made her mad because she believes in justice for everyone, and what they were doing was unfair. 
However, I don't mind paying a little extra for things here, though. I figure it's going to a good cause. By charging me that 10Q extra, that store owner will have more money to take care of his family. And for me, it's the difference between paying $8.57 and $10.00. Not that big of a deal. I started out thinking that I was spending way too much because I was going through about 200Q per week, and then I remember that's like $30. 
It's also been enlightening for me to understand what people may be going through when they immigrate to the United States. A simple thing like buying a water bottle is complicated when I have to hear the total, translate it in my head, separate out the dollar and the cents amount that I just heard, find out which one of the foreign money bills and coins in my purse are the ones I need, hand it to the cashier, and hope I got it right! I'm thankful I'm getting better at dividing by 7 in my head and making purchases is getting more fluent for me. The more I practice, the better I'll get. 

Better Now

Today just goes to show that when you're not comfortable at home, you're not comfortable anywhere. In a manner of thinking about how everything here relates to my students, I am glad I had the experience I did this week. I was not comfortable in the first host home I was in. My host mom there was very stern, serious, even rude at times. I felt like I could never make her happy. From the moment I arrived, she treated me like I had done something wrong even though I barely knew her. Even though I was unaware of it at first, my anxiety grew every time I had to go back to the house because I knew she'd be upset at me for something. I didn't realize how much of an issue it was until I was talking to one of my group members about how I was hungry because I hadn't eaten much at meals. She suggested that I could ask my host mom for more food, and I remembered that morning when I was scared to even ask her for a napkin. I realized that it was impossible to practice Spanish, or feel comfortable, with someone I was afraid to ask for a napkin. So, despite how comfortable I was with my room there, the family cats, and the other family members, I went to the school director today and asked for a transfer of host family.
To my surprise, he agreed, and told me to go grab my stuff. I was shocked, because I figured it would be at least a week to arrange another host home. I went back to get my stuff packed, and within an hour, I was in a new home. My new host mom greeted me with a warm smile, introduced me to the rest of the family  and sat and talked with me for half an hour about our families, our work, and our lives. She told me that if I needed anything to just ask, and that she was happy to have me here. In just the first 10 minutes of being here, I felt like I could breathe again. I don't have to stress about making small mistakes, or worry about what I'm going to get scolded for next. I feel like I took a gamble in requesting a transfer, and won. Now even though I know this week will be busy and I will be stressed with everything I have to do, I know that I will be emotionally more prepared to handle it.

Hardest Week So Far

I wish I could say that I'm enjoying myself and having a great time here, but that wouldn't be the truth. This week was hard. Not so much the learning of Spanish, but the fact that we have no time to learn it. I have started crying at several of my class sessions because I feel like I have to pack in all the knowledge quickly, because I know I will forget all of it by tomorrow. I would feel better if I had time to practice later, but I know there won’t be any. 

We go straight from breakfast, to school, to our host family for a quick lunch that I usually have to wolf down so I don’t have time to talk, back to the school for a trip or event, back home to, again, wolf down some food as fast as I can, so I can go back to the school for yet another activity, which ends late and then I have to straight home to bed. Most of the time after 1:30pm  is spent thinking, and speaking, in English. The tour guide speaks in Spanish, but a translator is usually there, also, so we don't catch any of the Spanish. 

Of course, I understand that it’s important to learn about the culture of Guatemala, and one or two activities per week I feel like would suffice to be able to experience the culture, as well as the language. I do want to learn about the culture, but not at the expense of learning Spanish, which was my original goal in coming here. Being required to go to every single activity is a little excessive, and takes away from the learning that I could be doing if I just had some time each day to process the new things I learned at school. 

I’m also struggling because I am missing the people back home. I am one of only two people who doesnt have wifi at my host family home, meaning that the only time I’m able to connect with my loved ones is when I’m at school, when I should be studying and learning! So now if I need support or encouragement from home, I have to sacrifice more of my learning time for that. I feel like that should be the last thing I have to sacrifice. It really makes me angry. I realize we have free time on Saturdays and Sundays, but that is absolutely not enough time to receive support from my loved ones at home, or practice my Spanish, which are the most important things I need on this trip right now. 

Despite being in a new country and being with the other group members from Newman, it’s difficult to support each other and encourage each other, when every single person is feeling stressed out, tired, annoyed, and frustrated. None of us are in good shape emotionally right now, so it would be helpful to get encouragement from my loved ones back in the United States who still have their strength and energy and can remind me why I chose to come here. 

I'm sure it will get better with time. Or perhaps, I will do what one of the other girls has already started doing today, and boycott the field trips and extra events that I don't have time to go to. We're hopefully all going to talk to our teacher this weekend and see if there's something she can do. I don't know if it will work, but I can hope for the best. 

My First Week

I felt more love this week than I have ever had in a lifetime. 

This week I got to experience firsthand what it's like to learn a new language in a new country. At first, I was surprised how easy it was. I was meeting new people and seeing new things, beautiful views and landscapes that took my breath away. I tried my hardest to speak Spanish, and didn't mind being the target of jokes and teasing because I didn't understand. My family asked me a lot of questions and were very careful to speak slowly and clearly so I could follow everything.

It was about a week in when things got hard. I'm not even sure what changed. It was probably just a buildup of a lot of things. I think I just got tired. Now tired physically, because I have been sleeping enough. But tired of constantly having to struggle. I was tired of trying to explain basic things and needs that I should be able to say but don't know the words. It's much more challenging than I thought it would be. 

Fortunately I'm thankful for a lot here. My host family was wonderful. Betty, the grandmother, was so loving and sweet and kind. She was a terrific cook. She always made sure I had plenty to eat. Her daughter, Mariela, was beautiful and was exactly my age. She was always really interested in learning about me and very patient with teaching me new things. The youngest sister was 21 and taught me a lot about Guatemalan culture for people my age. Her boyfriend really liked including me in the conversations, too. And Eduardo, Mariela's son, was 7 years old and a riot! He loved to give me random hugs and entertain us instead of eating his dinner. Not unlike the kids in the United States.

My favorite thing about my host family was that they never gave up on me. They didn't let "Yo no entiendo" (I don't understand) be the end of the conversation. They would talk and explain and draw pictures for me, sometimes for 10 minutes or more, until I understood what was going on. 

All of us girls on the trip felt like we were back to being children again, in a lot of ways. Our moms gossiped about our sleeping, living, and eating habits, and if we could speak and understand them. We had to eat our food even if we didn't like it. We had to go to bed at 8 because we were so exhausted. Most of the time we don't know our plans for the day, so when our parents said "Vamos!" we would "vamos" right along like little ducklings with no clue as to where we were going. It sounds stressful but in a way it was kind of freeing. I had very little to try to remember, so I was free to devote all my energy to speaking Spanish (which is a lot more energy than I expected).

I learned a lot in my first week here. Not just Spanish but life, and the culture here. In Guatemala, there is a phrase called "sobremesa" which is a custom to spend time together at the table, whether you're eating or not, and just be in each other's presence, even if it's silent. It's silent a lot of the time, and nobody feels awkward or feels the need to fill it. I've learned to appreciate just sitting and being with other people I love. If anything was a gift from this first week, it was that. I feel ready to continue on my journey. 

First Morning Reflections

This morning, I am thankful for the fact that I slept well last night. Of course, sleeping medicine helps a lot. That was nice to wake up naturally to birds singing, cars driving around outside, and sunlight streaming through the open window. It gave me a solid hour to re-pack my bag from looking like "Holy crap here's everything on my list thrown into this bag!" to "Here's what I need on top."
I have always been an early riser as an adult. I think that comes from my dad, who would always tell us that the earlier we woke up, the more we could do in a day. Now I have gotten a chance to get my things organized, get my brain organized, and wake up slowly with the smell of fresh air from outside.
Yesterday was a trip! No, literally! They canceled our flight to Dallas, so we had to take a sudden 5 hour road trip from Wichita to Dallas, packed into the last rental van the airport had, with all our stuff piled on top of us! Somehow, we made it with about an hour to spare. Got our bags checked, got through security, and had just enough time to gobble down some snacks before getting on the plane. That was about when my anxiety spiked, but as usual, it dissolved as soon as the wheels on the plane were up and we were in the air. Somehow it's like I just know that whatever happens, will happen now, and there's nothing I can do but accept it and roll with it.
So far, I'm 1/1 on how to use the shower! (Although it did take me three trips to the bathroom to remember all my stuff), and 2/2 on brushing my teeth with a water bottle! I'm 1/2 on not throwing toilet paper into the toilet though. Oops! 😳 Guess my just-woke-up self is not quite fully acclimated yet.
It seems so strange to finally be here. Today we will get to tour Guatemala City a little bit, and start the beginning of our journey. Our professor is taking us on one of the museum tours, which has both an English and a Spanish tour. Guess which one she requested? It's looking like our Spanish learning begins today. Bring it on. I feel ready!

Ready to Leave

What a strange thing it is, to have the thing that I've waited for for 6 months, about to finally happen...

Today I crossed the last thing I had off my to-do list. The to-do list started as 4 sub categories, each with a timeline of which they had to be finished. The last thing on the list was pack. I now have 8 weeks of stuff to survive, in a suitcase, a duffel bag, and a small backpack. My whole life will be in those 3 bags for the whole summer.
I don't even know how I feel. I'm excited, obviously. But it's mixed in with apprehension. I have no idea what to expect. And maybe that's not a bad thing. If I go in with no expectations, then I will be surprised no matter what. It will be a strange feeling, not having to plan every second of every day. With my ADHD as bad as it is, I have gotten so reliant on external reminders to get through the day. My days, weeks, and months are just endless series of lists of things to do, reminders of things to accomplish. If breathing weren't involuntary, it would probably be on my to-do list.

So now I go to a place where, for 8 weeks, I will not be in control. I will simply just have to be. Be still, be present, be learning.

I think that will be a good thing for me. I notice as my departure date gets closer, I have been making an extra effort to hold and pet my cats, to give my horse a little more treats, to hug my boyfriend longer. I'm starting to suspect this trip will make me appreciate everything I have and love, that much more. Not that I don't appreciate and love them, but when my life is just one task after another, it's very hard to just be present and enjoy the things I love.

So among my goals of learning Spanish, and experiencing another culture, I want to practice being present, as much and as often as possible. I want to soak in every experience that I have, without the constant background noise of social media and checklists. I have made it this far. I no longer have to be an overachiever and have a big destination in mind. The destination is here. And I'm going to experience everything I possibly can.

Wish me luck, everyone! I will miss you all!

Bananas

The things you see when you suddenly are aware of what's going on around you. How many times have I bought bananas in the store and never noticed that they said Guatemala on them?

Then, I started to wonder. I bought an entire bunch of bananas for $1.18 at my local Dillons. Which means that in order for that company to have made a profit, that bunch of bananas had to have been grown, sprayed, cut down, and shipped over 2000 miles for my spoiled white self to be able to purchase them for $1.18 at Dillons. How much less did the (most likely) indigenous Mayan person get paid for this? I just bought enough food to make dinner for the entire week, in less than 20 minutes at the grocery store, and barely glanced at the total because I knew I had enough money for it.

Did this person's family eat tonight?

If you haven't donated yet, I need your help more than ever. I will be traveling there not just to learn Spanish, but to do some service projects in one of the most impoverished areas of the country. I will be spending my American money at local business and buying items from local craftspeople to help them put food on their tables.

https://www.gofundme.com/my-bilingual-journey

Progressing Reflections

When I first started on this journey of getting ready to go to Guatemala, my one and only goal was to learn Spanish. I had a very singular mindset as I got started. However, upon completing the readings needed for this month, and our talks in class, another goal has come to the surface that I am now adding to my goal list. I want to understand what my students are going through. One of the major themes of the readings and class discussions has been trauma. This year in particular, my district is pushing for trauma-informed practices among the staff members in all the schools of the district. Studies have shown that trauma affects the brain, and as the book We Were Taught to Plant Corn, Not to Kill mentions several times, trauma can become embedded in a person’s DNA, and can be a very challenging thing to overcome. Many of my students struggle with trauma also, which can make them act out in strange ways, often ways that one would not expect. If I view them from the lens of a traumatized person, rather than just a kid “acting out” in class, I am more likely to be understanding and patient with their behavior.


I feel like the trauma that my students have experienced and the trauma of the indigenous people of Guatemala share one big key element: being taken advantage of and unable to stop it. Page 38-40 of I, Rigoberta Menchu describes the death of her brother, and how her mother had to watch him slowly starve to death, unable to do anything to help him. The landowners wouldn’t even allow her to bury him, and when she finally did get the money to afford him a burial, they fired her for missing a day of work. I counted 7 different times in the chapter that Rigoberta said, “I/we didn’t know what to do.” The feeling of helplessness perpetuates the feeling of trauma even further. When she was a maid in the capital, her only way to maintain her dignity was to be stubborn and refuse certain tasks that the mistress was trying to force her to do. (pg 91-100) This applies a lot to my students as well, who will often be defiant just for the sake of being defiant. After reading that chapter, I now wonder if it’s because they are treated so badly at home, or because they see their parents acting like that to authority figures who take advantage of them. The part of the book that truly made me sick was page 177, where she described in detail watching her brother and other prisoners be tortured and burned alive, and knowing she could do nothing to stop it. Her mother later said on page 196, that “when a woman sees her son tortured and burned to death, she is incapable of forgiving anyone or ridding herself of that hatred.” After her mother was kidnapped, she still couldn’t even go to see her, because she knew she would be killed anyway, and there was nothing she could do.


That same theme of helplessness and trauma was present in We Were Taught to Plant Corn, Not to Kill, as well. The story that stood out to me the most was the one called Innocence on page 26. Up until that point, I had read about the atrocities in the other books we’d covered in class, but the evil in that story was what really hit home. I couldn’t fathom what kind of people would offer toys to little children, and then brutally murder them and their entire families. Later, when the author returned, she found that the soldiers had lived in and trashed her house. After reading that story, I had to take a break because I felt too sick to read anymore.


The other story that stood out to me in that section of the book was on page 43, the chapter called “Schools.” In college, I had read stories about children in the Southwestern United States who were indigenous Native Americans, who were forced to go through the same kind of treatment: Not allowed to speak their home language, verbally and physically abused at the whims of their teachers, and a lack of education overall. The quote that stood out to me the most was, “That is how they forced us to learn Spanish, and taught us to be ashamed of the fact that we were Mayan.” (43) I feel like when one has been taught from childhood to be ashamed of who they are, that doesn’t go away quickly, if ever.


But there was hope at the end of the book, and I did like that part. On page 117, it says, “Children represent Guatemala’s best hope for the future, their minds are still open.” It goes on to talk about how trauma-informed mental health services will be the best chance that Guatemala has at healing from the trauma in their past. Changing people’s mindsets, though, it not easy, no matter what country you are in.


On page 39 of Guatemala in Focus (which I finished last month but revisited this month), it says that by “The government agreed to launch a campaign to change mindsets and behavior and to criminalize ethnic discrimination.” I feel like the later will be much easier than the former. As with most stories in history, it is easier to change laws than to change people’s minds. Even in The United States, we have laws prohibiting racism and inequality, but we still see it all over the place in people’s minds. But I agree that something must be done.


I think it will start by listening. Listening to the families, my teachers, the people in the aldea, and hearing any stories they have to share. Last week, when I was doing parent teacher conferences, I experienced a lot of frustration as I tried to ask questions in Spanish, knowing full well I would only be able to catch half the answer. I was able to catch the important half, however. Maybe the same thing will apply with the people in Guatemala, also. Or maybe just by listening with my heart, I will be able to understand them, even if I don’t understand every word they say.


Another topic we talked about in class that I know I will need to improve on before leaving, is the ability to admit when I don’t know, and let others support me. As Profesora Bontrager shared her story about the man who told her, “You are really hard to give to!” that really hit home with me, because I started to realize that independence and self-reliance are the traits I hold dearest to me, too. In the last 7 years, I have lost a parent, moved myself across the country away from everyone I knew, lived on my own, started my career, started my own business, and became a homeowner, all by myself. Not only that, but I have been wounded countless times by situations where I have accepted help from others, only to have that help held against me as collateral, or to be ridiculed or shamed for the help I asked for. Or in some cases, I would be promised help, and that promise would be meaningless. Since then, I have prided myself on being independent and not relying on others. But as I read through the books, especially I, Rigoberta Menchu, I was struck by how often the people in her village relied on one another for food, shelter, protection, and support. I realized that independence is very much an American value. I am once again breaching a new territory with an unfamiliar custom. I don’t interpret gray areas very well, and I feel like this is a big one. How much should I ask for help before I become a burden to others? Who is safe to ask for help, and who will shame me for it? I know that suffering quietly is not the answer if I need something, but it will be such unfamiliar territory that I will need a lot of guidance.





Thankfully, even though I will be staying on my own with my host family, I know I will not be there alone. If I am experiencing frustration, homesickness, fatigue, or stress, there will most certainly be others in the group who are going through the same thing. Maybe we will be able to support each other, so that no one has to go through feeling that alone.

Thoughts on My Cultural Identity Overseas

Questions:
How will past conflicts influence how the indigenous people see me there? Are they still distrustful of Americans?
How long will it take me to be comfortable in the culture there? What is the best way for me to learn while I’m there?
What things do I need to do to prepare myself, both physically and emotionally, for the journey there?
What can I do to help support some of the younger women in the group while we go?
What parts of my cultural identity will help me to thrive there, and which ones will stand in my way?


I remember as a kid loving the movie “The Road to El Dorado,” a cute Disney movie about two Spaniards who stowaway on a ship and end up as part of one of the Spanish Invasion groups that land in the Mayan culture. They find the mythical town of “El Dorado,” a city paved in gold. One of the big themes of the movie is that the Mayans practice human sacrifice. Everybody in that culture seems okay with it, except the two Spaniards who keep insisting that there will be no human sacrifices, and try to change the Mayans culture. As a kid in American culture, I saw nothing wrong with this. However, upon reading these books and through our class discussions, it’s brought into sharp realization that ethnocentrism, in just that children’s movie. The movie didn't portray the Spaniards as trying to understand the Mayan culture at all. In fact, they spent the whole movie rigging the system so that they could come out on top and maintain their status as “white gods,” like the Mayan people believed they were.
If that doesn't summarize American culture, I don't know what does.
It seems that ethnocentrism is the biggest reigning problem that has made life as awful for indigenous Guatemalans overall. The Guatemala in Focus book covered a lot of the atrocities that happened to them. I was shocked to discover that the United States was behind a lot of it. It says that “In the 1960’s, the US helped to modernize the Guatemalan army by providing helicopters, jeeps, radar, and advice and training. (O’Kane 25) This is what allowed La Escoba to become a holocaust in the 1980’s. People would start disappearing overnight. Many people took refuge in other countries or up into the jungles. Of course, this would make it impossible for them to unite and fight back, especially when the military was so powerful.
As I read this, it brought into sharp realization the situation of one of my most beloved students, Jaime. (The same one who told me not to have my phone out in public because “it will get jacked!”) I try not to pry into the personal lives of my students or their families, especially since I know some of their pasts have been ugly and heartbreaking. I had heard from one of the other teachers that his parents had “escaped a war.” And whenever we would talk about culture in class, I would bring up the fact that there are plenty of Americans who were born here but still speak Spanish as their first language, he would heartily self identify. He proudly identifies as both Guatemalan, and American. I’m now beginning to realize that his parents were probably one of those Mayans who were forced to flee their home country. I hope to be able to get more information on this.
I also came to a sharp realization about how little I knew about Central American culture. In school, when talking about the Cold War, we learned about the major key players: United States, Russia, and Japan. There was never any mention of the fact that American CIA invaded Guatemala. In fact, we never even discussed Guatemala at all. We learned very little about Mexico, and other than my high school Spanish class requiring us to be able to label Central American countries on a map as part of our grade, we studied nothing about any Central American countries. I feel a little disadvantaged that this is my first experience learning about Guatemalan culture, or any Central American culture, for that matter.
When I first saw the list of books that I would have to read for this course, I started to get a little bit nervous. It would not be like my previous undergraduate courses I took over 6 years ago, where I could buy maybe 1 or 2 books from the list and skim read them. I knew right away that this was all going to be information I needed for this trip! I wanted to learn all of it, even if it meant putting in a ton of extra work on the side. One centralized theme in the books, and our in-class discussions, is: “The more prepared you are, the easier it will be to acclimate.” I want to be as ready as I can, even though I know that nothing can fully prepare me for what I face there.
I know will be impossible to completely shed my American culture when I go to Guatemala, but the ability to learn and adapt to the culture will be my biggest advocate while I’m there. According to the Survival Kit for Overseas Living, one of the big American mindsets is “We do things better than you.” (Kohls 14). This unfortunately was the culture that I was raised in, growing up. Everyone had to be white, Christian, middle-class American, and anyone who wasn’t, was someone to be hated or felt pity for. Thankfully, I feel like I have been far removed from that culture. Since starting college, and especially since I started my career as a teacher, I have been blessed enough to get to experience a wide variety of cultures through my colleagues and students.
Once I left my childhood culture, I had a thirst to know about how other people lived. I knew that I grew up sheltered, and so once I got out on my own, nothing became off-limits. When everything used to be forbidden, suddenly when I was free, everything was acceptable. I could hear about customs like polygamy, Wiccan religious practices, eating monkey brains, and not using toilet paper, and be completely okay with the concepts! Very much like what the book emphasized in several chapters, I tried to understand the logic behind each culture, and understand that just because they are different, or what Americans would consider unusual, doesn’t mean they are inherently wrong.  I tried everything from every culture I could get access to. I attended a Muslim mosque, and ate halal food with my fingers. I talked with African American people about what different cultural values they were brought up with. I dated a Jewish man for a while and learned all about what makes up that culture. I threw my very first “Cultural Appreciation Day,” this year where my students each had to present their own cultural autobiography to the class, and bring in a special object or food that they considered part of their culture.
I know that this trait of curiosity and openness will serve me well while I am abroad, but I also know there are traits mine that may not. For one, I am very task and goal oriented, which according to the Survival Kit, may be seen negatively by my host culture. (Kohls 82) Another thing that I am worried about is homesickness, as described by Chapter 18 of the Survival Kit. I’m not a very aggressive person by nature, and very open to flexibility, so I doubt that any of the Aggressive Symptoms described on page 96 will manifest themselves. However, I have experienced  a lot of the Overall Symptoms list, just on local trips across the country. Anxiety, homesickness, fatigue, self doubt, feelings of inadequacy, unexplained fits of weeping (that one made me laugh because it’s so true!) and physical ailments, all are things that have happened to me quite a bit in my travels. (Kohls 96)
In a way, it is causing me a lot of stress. I know that my host family and other local people will be watching me to see “how the American acts.” Of course, I am aware that I will not be the first American they have encountered in their town, and the host families have probably seen the “unexplained fits of weeping” before, but at the same time, I still want to represent Americans well. Page 66 cautions us to beware of emotion-laden biases. (Kohls 66) I also know that I am very slow to pick up on social nonverbal cues, which is another thing that the book stresses for success. I don’t even pick up on social cues in my own culture, probably due to having that element of growth stunted from childhood.
However, one part of the book did give me hope. It said several times throughout the chapters that many of the local people will be willing, if not excited, to assist me in learning their culture, especially if they can see that I’m actively trying. One skill I have developed most recently as an adult, is the ability to ask for help without feeling shame. I practice this quite a bit, especially as I’m learning Spanish. I have a bilingual para in my classroom who has helped me on a daily basis to practice my Spanish. I will frequently ask her questions about certain words, and the social connotation behind uses of those words. (For example, she was the one who taught me to always use “blanquillos” instead of huevos”). Despite my natural fear of failure and embarrassment, I don’t think it will be large enough to keep me from asking my host family and others for help or advice when I need it. 
Finally, I think that drawing on strength from our group will also be a huge advocate. I think we are blessed to have such a wide range of backgrounds and cultures: From Monica, who has never really left home, to Reba who is fluent in Spanish and has parents from Central American backgrounds, to Mel, who is an immigrant herself. It’s also nice to have Marie and Monica, who are two other education majors, with me through this experience, because the three of us all have the same goal in mind: To learn Spanish for the benefit of our students. I know that even during tough times while we are abroad, that common goal will help unite our group and bring us closer.

So What Is This Trip, Anyway?

I’ve had a lot of people ask me about what this trip is all about and what I will be doing. So I’ll take a moment to answer some of the most common questions I keep getting!

Q1: So, is this like a college class?
Yes and no. It’s a program, directed by Newman University, and it’s an undergrad level program focused on Spanish immersion. Since I already have my Bachelor’s complete, I don’t need the college credits or a grade. I won’t be technically enrolled in the prep course, so I don’t have to pay extra tuition for that. However, I’m still required to complete all the prep course work in order to go on the trip. The trip itself is an undergrad credit in itself that includes the trip, tuition, and adventures while I’m there. That’s what I have to pay the $5500 for.

Q2: Is it like a vacation?
NO! It is school. There will be fun evening group events planned every night and weekend, but I will be sitting one-on-one with a Spanish teacher, talking in conversational Spanish, for 5 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 6 solid weeks. I don’t see it as a vacation. A trip to the Bahamas would be a vacation. I’m going there to learn Spanish. That’s the main mission of the trip.

Q3: How’d you find the class?
I’m currently taking a grad-level class for the district through Newman University. The district will pay for 5 grad school level courses in ESOL (English Speakers of Other Languages). Ironically, it’s NOT a second language program, but more of a program for educators that teaches them techniques for effectively teaching students who don’t speak English as their first language. Since the district is paying for all of it, and it’s something I’m passionate about, I have 2.5 years’ worth of classes that I’m attending to get that endorsement added to my license.
However, being enrolled at Newman in the grad level courses, put me on the school-wide student email list. In October, I got an email from Sonja Bontrager, the director for the program, with an all-call invite to the entire student body asking for participants in the Guatemala Study and Serve program. That’s how I found it, and got started in it. It was a lengthy application process but I got into the program!

Q4: Are you a foreign exchange student?
Yes. I will be staying with one host family for the first week or so while I’m there, helping with the rescue mission Maria de Mattias. After that, we will go to Quetzaltenango, where the school is: Proyecto Linguistico Quetzalteco. I will have a different host family while there. So I will be spending very little time with other English speakers.

Q5: Are you becoming bilingual so you’ll get a raise or a promotion?
Not at all. Obviously being bilingual will make me more marketable. But in the teaching community, raises and promotions are very rare without formal educations and degrees. Obviously, a raise or promotion would be nice, but I honestly don’t care if I get a raise or a promotion. I’m going for me, and for my students and their families. I want to challenge myself and become a more empowered educator. I want to be able to explain my classroom material to my students in a language they understand. I want to be more aware of other cultures. I want to be able to say I learned another language in my 20’s. I want to learn about other countries, cultures, foods, and customs. A bonus or a promotion would be secondary to the incredible life experience I will gain.

Shout Out to to my Dentist!

Out of all the people I sent out donation request letters, I have had one rejection letter, and a lot of silence. Then, out of nowhere, I get this!!! Shoutout to Reflection Ridge Dental for furthering my journey along!

First Prep Class

Tonight I went to my first session of the Central American Studies class I am required to attend before I can go on the Guatemala Study and Serve trip. I am definitely on brain overload right now! But more excited than ever to get to go! I am traveling with an amazing group of young women from all walks of life! Our instructors are encouraging, helpful, and kind. Even though the trip is not for another 5 months, they answered all my questions. Once I started to see pictures of the places in Guatemala that we would travel, I got even more excited! There will be a whole 5 hours, every day, for 6 weeks, of one-on-one Spanish training with a different speaker every week! Even thought that's the "school" part of the trip, I think that's the one I'm the most excited about! After all, the main goal of this trip is to become fluent.

However, this class will be a lot of work! There are 9 required books for the course! And for someone who hasn't been in college in the last 6 years, that is a LOT of reading to do in my not-so-ample free time! I will have to plan out a designated study day and time to make sure it gets done. But I know they're all important to prepare me for what I will find when I'm there. As someone who knows nothing about Guatemala and has never been out of the country before, I will need as much preparation as I can get!

Here's to spending the next 5 months learning!