23 February 2024

Our most recent trip took us north. We spent a full seven days split between the northern rainforests of Tikal and the high-altitude city of Cobán in Alta Vera Paz. The theme for the week was Nature & Environment, so we visited the ancient Mayan Ruins in Tikal National Park and lived with an organization called Community Cloud Forest Conservation for a few days as well. 

The Tikal visit was incredible- it is humbling to look upwards at stone structures that were built 1.5 thousand years ago, more or less, and not know much about the society that built them. In the US we tear down large buildings about every 100-150 years, and our houses only after about 50-70 years! I was glad to hear that the park gets many visitors each year because the ancient Mayan culture is an important history to continue sharing, especially as the modern indigenous culture continues to change and grow in this country. On the flip side, tourism from the park requires hotels and roads with carbon emissions and noise that continue to divide the Petén rainforest into smaller and smaller chunks. Sigh… there are many paradoxes in this country. Our tour guide was a wealth of knowledge and he spoke English the entire tour which was something that he learned during the Pandemic. The English language is a very helpful tool in the Guatemalan workforce and is increasingly more valuable for employment within the tourism sector.

The most memorable part of the trip for me was our time in the mountains outside of Cobán. We spent a full 3 days living at CCFC, an organization that focuses on sustainable living through a variety of outlets. Their WALC program educates Indigenous women about sustainable practices which they bring back to their villages, and at the same time promotes leadership through teaching and program management. The lodge also hosts elementary schoolers throughout the entire

Cobán region for 3-4 days as a form of outdoor education and advocacy. The entire establishment harnesses energy from hydroelectric and solar energy sources. The surrounding land also provides a large portion of their food so that there are days on end when no one needs to drive into town. This aspect of their program was pretty impressive at such a large scale! A really cool part of our stay was getting assigned compañeras, women from the surrounding villages, around our age, who were teachers in the WALC program. It was fun to make connections through a language that for most of us was not our first (most of the womens’ first language was not Spanish, but a language from their villages like Q’eqchi and Quiché). Much of what I learned from that trip came from my new friend, Sara. 🙂

The big question that we brushed up against was what to do about the ominous climate crisis. The CCFC is an incredible example of action and advocacy and we were reminded once again of our own ability to create change. How could action and advocacy translate into our own lives as college students in Harrisonburg and beyond? This is always a daunting question. There were points of despair, and also doubts in the permanency of our inspired ideas. Change takes time and work. It can seem like an uphill battle to change a lifestyle, and guilt can appear when we feel like we aren’t doing enough. 

A comment from someone in the group added a new perspective: What if the things that we “add” to our lives are actually moments for mental health and rest? What if our tiny steps in climate action provide moments of solitude or connection with our environment? The quietness of hanging clothes on the line. The rhythm that comes with digging a row of holes for seeds. The breaths of fresh air that accompany your walk to work. These actions in our lives do require a little more time from our packed days, but they can also provide necessary moments of respite and solitude that feed our souls, not drain them. 

So, that is a question that I continue to mull over. Climate action and advocacy looks different for everyone, and each person knows their limits. But perhaps looking at the way forward through this mental health lens could provide a healthier plan and brighter outlook for our engagement in this. I hope to continue thinking and talking about these possibilities! 

And now, on to the next week.

– Naomi Kratzer

9 February 2024

As part of our intercultural experience, we are taking Spanish classes for about four hours every morning through CASAS, or Central America Study and Service cultural immersion program. We are in small groups and paired up with a teacher. So far, we have learned through cooking, singing Guatemalan songs, acting out skits, reading Central American literature, and even a trip to the zoo, of course in addition to traditional classroom learning. I like the immersive atmosphere of learning in this way, but I also deeply appreciate how we are in classes small enough that we can ask our teachers questions about life in Guatemala and get real answers.

The more we study Spanish, the more I, an English Education major, come to appreciate English and the study of language. Let me explain.

My whole life I have loved language. I love writing, reading, and communicating my point clearly. I love to read a well-written book, compose a perfectly flowing essay, or eloquently tell others what I want them to know. I appreciate language. I started appreciating language more when I took Introduction to Linguistics (shoutout Wendell Shank) last spring. It was a wonderful class that taught me the importance of parts of speech and just how differently languages communicate the same idea. Being in Guatemala has only grown that appreciation more. For example, I love that the sentence in Spanish “yo se quiero darle” doesn’t translate perfectly to English. If we translated it word for word, we would hear: “I you want to give it.” The idea is the same — “I want to give it to you” — but we can’t say it exactly the same way in both languages. I think that is fascinating. In English, you just follow right along with the idea from point A to point B. In Spanish you almost have to listen to the whole sentence before you can fully understand what the person is trying to say. If you’re not getting the whole sentence, you’re grasping at straws (words) trying to figure out what is going on.

Continue reading →

5 February 2024

Last Saturday through Wednesday, our group had the opportunity to visit Huehuetenango and Jacaltenango, both located in the Western highlands of Guatemala. The five to six-hour drive to Huehuetenango was rough for those who get carsick easily, but beautiful as we observed tree-laden mountains and stunning volcanoes along the way. In Huehuetenango, we stopped to visit the archeological site Zaculeu, which had ancient Mayan temples we

could climb. Unfortunately, the original temples were covered in concrete, turning them into a playground for tourists. The beauty of the original structures will now always be hidden under a “modern” shell. I wonder what other historical and cultural sites have been “fixed” to accommodate tourist interest. After lunch, we drove about four more hours to Jacaltenango, a beautiful area full of trees and with small streets that our bus struggled to fit in. While we were in Jacaltenango, we visited Rio Azul, swam in a pool, and ate street food at the Féria there.

I think that for many, the beginning of the trip represented a break from the full schedule of classes and a chance to explore more of Guatemala. However, the overall purpose of the trip was much more important than seeing more breathtaking scenery. On Monday we visited Pop No’j, an organization that empowers Mayan

communities by encouraging their participation in advocating for their rights and accompanying them in their journey to have a better life. They also walk alongside children and adolescents who have been deported or returned voluntarily from the United States. To start our activities with them, they invited us to participate in a Mayan practice, where six candles of different colors are lit to recognize the energy that the day carries.

After learning about their various programs, we met with Robby and Ari, a family they have worked with. Robby is a twelve-year-old boy who migrated to the United States with his mom but had to take care of himself there, because his mom had to work. Because of this lack of support, he along with an older cousin, journeyed back to Guatemala together. His older sister, Ari, who is now his guardian, shared that he had a lot of trauma when he returned. When asked about the migration process, she said that the migration journey is not worth it because it affects everyone and only creates more trauma for families. She believes that there needs to be more investment in communities here, because otherwise, people will continue migrating for any possible chance of a better life. I am grateful for the family’s willingness to share, and I think it was an important reminder of the impact migration has on kids and young adults. We have to remember that they are one story of many and that many children do not have support from organizations like Pop No’j or family members once they return. 

The next day we were going to visit one of the borders between Guatemala and Mexico. However, because narcotraffickers had taken over the highway it was recommended that we not go. Our group was privileged to have connections that warned us of the narco takeover, but many migrants do not have that opportunity. Regardless, many people in transit would continue even if there was danger to their safety or a huge risk of extortion and physical violence. While we were leaving Jacaltenango, our bus was stopped by the police to check our driver’s papers. We learned that police routinely stop bigger vehicles, because they are checking for any migrants who might be aboard. I cannot imagine the fear that people must face every time a bus they are on is stopped. If they are caught, they will be returned to the country they left.  Continue reading →

21 January 2024

La Terminal

On Wednesday, January 19 our

Guatemala-Cuba Intercultural group had the opportunity to visit a place called “La Terminal,” a market in Guatemala City. There
sim
ply are not words to describe the poverty we saw there. I have seen and interacted with poverty in the US in both rural and urban settings, and it simply does not come close to what we saw in La Terminal. Everything everywhere reeked of garbage and gasoline. Fruits, vegetables,

and worse rotted in the streets. There were families of eight to twelve living in spaces that seemed smaller than a dorm room. These people, these human beings with hopes and dreams and dignity must pay 10 Quetzal (roughly $1.30) to shower and 2Q to use the toilet. 10Q is nearly 10% of the minimum wage here in Guatemala and roughly 50% of the average daily wages of those who are self-employed or living in rural areas.

Cayalá

The next day,   Thursday, January 20, we went to a place called Cayalá. Cayalá is owned by one family and sits on roughly 350 acres of previously forested land. The streets are cobblestone, the buildings white with clean terracotta roofs, and there is no trash in sight. The bathrooms are fancy – and free. If you dropped me in La Terminal, and then dropped me in Cayalá, never in a million years would I guess that they are just over 3 miles apart. 3 miles! That is all that separates some of the richest in this country from some of the poorest. The paradox of Cayalá, the gross irony, is that “cayalá” means “paradise” in an indigenous Mayan language spoken by people who certainly do not live there. The wealth, the amount of space taken up, and the inherent arrogance it takes for those living there to simply ignore the poverty sitting at their feet was nauseating.

Perhaps even more nauseating is how close to home this situation is. We all know the parts of town we want to avoid, the ones we aspire to live in. We all sit at the intersection with the window up, pretending not to see the person begging. We all, all too often, choose ignorance and judgment over acceptance and curiosity. If we want to live into the life that Christ calls us to, that Mennonite values prescribe, and that our humanity demands, we must do something to combat the gross inequalities in the world. And so my question going out of these experiences was this: how do we reconcile the way we live with the way those in La Terminal live, and how do we change how we live going out of that experience?

First, I must say that to not change anything about the way you live after such an experience is to kill your humanity. Second, there are so many things we can change about the way we live after an experience like that, but it will look different for everyone. We must change the way we live in a way that is humbling and beneficial to those from whose poverty many of us benefit. Here are some ideas our group came up with:

• Waste no food. Clear the plate or save the leftovers.
• Hang-dry clothes.
• Live below your means and donate as much as you can. Consumerism perpetuates inequality.
• Think twice before judging people, especially based on socioeconomic status. Curiosity is a much better choice.
• Tell others about the experience. To learn someone’s story and tell no one is to silence them.

This is a short, infant list, but it’s a start. And a start is far better than the sacrifice of our humanity.

-Joshua Stucky