11 February 2015
After another week in Guatemala, we are all adjusting more to Spanish classes, host families, and the culture here, and it seems our bodies are finally adjusting more to the food – praise the Lord. One of the many great aspects of this trip is the opportunity to spend 2 months becoming part of a family and a culture. While each of our host family experiences is very different, I’ll give a little glimpse into mine so far. Upon first arriving with my new family to my new home, I stepped into a house full of people and about fifteen 9 year old girls running around. Little did I know when I had to leave CASAS early because my family was in a hurry that this was what I was about to come home to. I said a quick prayer asking for strength and jumped on in.
As soon as my luggage was in the house, my little sister, Dina, grabbed my hand and pulled me into a circle of girls. I was seated on a stool in the middle, handed a microphone, and began singing karaoke to “Let it Go” from Frozen, while my mom pulled out the iPad to record. I jumped right in, that’s for sure. The rest of the evening was spent running around learning games of tag and hide-and-seek with the kids, and then of course, learning the proper Guatemalan way to give a kiss on the cheek while saying goodbye to every single family member as they left after the party. All of this while trying to use my very broken and slightly flustered Spanish.
My first night with my host family was definitely overwhelming, but looking back, it was so much fun, and I feel so blessed to immediately have been accepted into such a welcoming and loving family. I have two wonderful parents, and in addition to Dina, I have a 4 year old brother, Sebastian. The craziness of that first night was a pretty good representation of life with my host family. Multiple mornings have begun with my siblings jumping on my bed around 5:00 or 6:00 a.m., and many nights have ended after playing soccer, Uno, Just Dance, FIFA, or being at my grandparent’s house late. It’s definitely high energy, but I am loving my time learning more about my family and also about myself. After a fun weekend in Chichi, I was surprised by how excited I was to see my family again and the comfortableness that set in again upon returning home.
From our time in Chichicastenango, our visit to the Widows’ Co-op has stayed on my mind. One of the women shared with us about what they have been through in the past 30 years or so. In the 1980s, Guatemalan military soldiers came to the highlands looking for other soldiers. When they weren’t found, the soldiers began killing the innocent people of the towns, and the people didn’t even understand why. Many fled to the woods, but the men, women, and children found in their homes were killed. For not agreeing to join the civil patrol organized by the military, this woman’s husband was tortured and killed. Along with others, she fled to the capital and lived there awhile until it was safer. Upon returning after all the violence, there were 85 women who were widowed and left with no money or food for their children. The Widows’ Co-op has helped them to be able to use their weaving skills and sell what they make for profit. It was hard to hear of the violence, tragedy, and hardship they have been through, and I’m still frustrated at the injustice and trying to process what we heard. However, it is encouraging to hear how strong these women have been and how they turned their situation into one of hope. The pride in their smiles and faces as we talked with them and as they showed us their beautiful handiwork is not something I will easily forget.
We’re reading from a book by Henri Nouwen, a Dutch priest who lived in Latin America for a time, who wrote: “At this moment I cannot think of myself as someone who has anything to offer – I feel like someone surrounded by experts – but I am willing to live with the supposition that he who truly receives also gives.” That quote perfectly sums up how I feel. I’ve been at war with myself this whole cross-cultural. It’s a battle between giving of myself or receiving from others. Giving my advice, comfort, perspective, etc. … or simply receiving their stories, food, culture, their way of life. I want to give; I want to be a blessing. Never in my life have these two things been impossible. But now I am in a childlike stage where I am continually learning, needing guidance and help, and unable to communicate with ease. I’m beginning to realize that maybe this isn’t a bad place to be though. I’m realizing that being present, curious, and willing to try the unknown is enough of a gift – and not usually an easy one to give.