Guatemala, I miss you.

 
I miss the everyday sights

• Early in the morning, the mountains slowly appeared through the mist and stood like powerful sentries around the village, announcing to anyone who paid attention that our Creator God was bestowing bountiful blessings on this little country of Guatemala.
• Flowers cascaded down front gates, lined window boxes and pathways to homes, and sold for pennies in the marketplace..
• The market in San Juan Sacatepéquez was teeming with the vibrant color or produce for sale and lively bargaining between vendors and buyers at 7:00 in the morning.
• Children played outside.  A soccer game, marbles, or simple tag might take place in the village streets or in the alleys.  
• Vendors and housewives carried their wares on their heads.
• Dogs roamed freely and without the territorial viciousness I often see back home.

I miss many of the things I smelled there.

• Freshly washed clothes hung on the line, wafting their scent of lavender in my direction when I walked by.
• A jasmine bush grew by the driveway, and Barbara picked a few flowers for our desk just before we arrived.  For days, I smelled their fragrant aroma whenever I walked into our room.
• Walking up the driveway, I’d stop to smell the jasmine and the roses that grew there.
• Before a rain, you could smell it coming.  After it left, the natural smells of earth and grass were more prominent than before.
• Tortillas or tacos for sale at a roadside stand tempted us as we walked by.
• The fragrant aromas filtered out of the kitchen several times as day, awaking our senses and making us ready to enjoy the next meal.
• Of course, there were some not-so-nice smells that I sometimes smelled, but even those were a reminder to me that I was not at home.  Bus fumes, garbage, and manure could not overcome the positives things I smelled there.

I miss the sounds I heard there.

• Firecrackers at midnight announced the beginning of someone’s birthday.
• Dogs barked, and roosters crowed their way-too-early greeting of the new day.
• Buses blared their horns, as early as 4:30 in the morning, to announce their departure for the capital city.
• A lonely cat let everyone know of her presence as she sat outside mewing for attention. 
• Children played on the patio, their laughter and imaginative conversations drifting in to where I quietly worked on my lesson plans for the day.
• The gentle rain pinged off the metal roof, quieting the other noises outside and lulling me to sleep.
• Children called out “Gringos!” to each other whenever we were out on the street.

Barbara teaching the children.

But mostly, I miss the people.

• Giovanni and Barbara Avendaño and their wonderful family. Our house seemed way too quiet when we returned. 
• The indigenous women in their colorful dress celebrated their distinctive culture.  Their shyness made it obvious to me that they had different cultural values from the ladinos in their midst. 
• The church people sang enthusiastically when they gathered for worship.
• Hosts and hostesses warmly welcomed us into their homes for a typical Guatemalan meal.
• At prayer meeting, their prayers were fervent as they lifted their voices to God, asking Him to do impossible things in their lives and in the lives of those they loved.  
• Passersby greeted us pleasantly as we walked down the village streets, sometimes stopping to talk or walk with us for a while. 
• Children called out their few English words when we passed and giggled when we stopped to talk to them.
• The people of Guatemala were friendly and welcoming to us.  Wherever we went, they greeted us with a smile.

So, Guatemala, we do not know exactly when we will be back, but we are looking forward to our return.

A Walk through the Village

This afternoon Charlie and I took a walk through the village.  Along the way we greeted the people we met and stopped and talked with a few.  When they asked why we were here, we told them we were teaching at the local Baptist church, gave them a tract and invited them to attend one of the services.  Join us on our walk through the village.

As we leave the house, at the top of the driveway we can see the mountains across the valley from this village.



Flowers abound.



We pass the catholic church.  Every town in Latin America seems to have one, usually in the center of town.  A strong majority of people here will claim Catholicism as their religion.



Children peer out open doorways to watch the “gringos” pass by.  Others call out to us.  Some even try to use the one or two words they know in English.  “Buenas tardes,” I call to a couple girls who respond in kind, and then go running away, giggling.



Anyone need a Laundromat?



Wheelbarrows are put to good use here.  Doesn’t this look like fun?



Eventually we arrive at the church, about a half mile from where we are staying.  No one is here today, but tonight it will be bustling with activity.

On our way back, we walk through the main intersection in town.  In reality, it is the only intersection, though many small roads, wide enough for only one car at a time, are like fingers off the main roads.



We pass dozens of little stores like this one.  This one is larger than most.  Besides the actual stores, many houses have baskets of produce in front of their homes ready to sell to passers by.



The white picket fence, the only one in town, lets us know that we are back at our hosts’ home.



Thank you for taking this walk with us.

Guatemalan Blessings

Midway through our time here in Guatemala, I want to lift up my voice in praise to God who allowed us to be here and who has granted so many blessings along the way.  Rather than give an account of the things we have been doing, I thought I would just list some of the blessings that have come our way.

• Celebrating sixteen years of marriage here.  Charlie found an “I Love You” card in Spanish.  I had brought one from the U.S.  Our hostess went to the trouble to prepare special meals for us, and we had a full day of ministry.  Then our host family took us out to dinner that night.  The following day the church sang a “Happy Anniversary” song to us.
• Flowers.  Instead of paying the proverbial “arm and a leg” for flowers, flowers are inexpensive here, so Charlie bought me some to celebrate.  I’m hoping to get some more while we are here.  Fresh flowers often adorn the front of the church as well.
• Village sounds.  Even now I can hear roosters crowing, dogs barking, the wind blowing through the trees, and birds singing.  The modern sounds of buses, horns, air compressors, and generators are here too.
• Mountains.  Mountains surround us here, and they are a constant reminder to me of God’s care.  “I will lift up mine eyes unto this hills.  From whence cometh my help?  My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.”  Psalm 121:1-2
• Salvation.  How often I give thanks to God for His saving power in my own life and in the life of the believers around me.  Yesterday that power to save was demonstrated once again when a 9-year-old boy asked Jesus to save him from his sins and surrendered to His control.
• A vibrant church.  This church where we are teaching is only seven years old.  It is filled with the enthusiasm of new believers and families growing together in the faith.  Seven years ago, most of them did not know Jesus, except as a name.  Today they are His followers.  The church has become a magnet for young families looking for answers because so many of the families have a very positive testimony of family harmony and closeness.
• A vital ministry.  The missionary pastor and his family are busy.  Everyday except Thursdays they have something scheduled. In the ten (or so) years they have been here, they have seen one church firmly planted and two others get started.
• Being able to serve this ministry.  During our time here Charlie has done a fair amount of teaching and preaching, and I have been teaching teachers, women, and children.  Our days are full, and we feel blessed to be able to share the things God has taught us. 
• A close look at a close-knit family.  It has been a privilege to live with the Avendaño family while we are here.  They have been gracious to us in every way.  When you live with someone for an entire month, you get to really know them, and we have been very pleased to see the closeness they have. 

I could add more, but I’ll stop here.  We are blessed!

Our First Week in Guatemala

 

“Will you be ready to teach on the Wednesday night after we arrive?” Charlie asked me about a week before we left.

“Yes,” I replied, as I put finishing touches on the lesson for that night.  Fortunately, I had been asked to do a teacher training seminar in Chicago for a Spanish church there not too long ago, so I had this lesson almost ready.

We arrived on Tuesday night, well after midnight by our morning rising time, but only a little after 10:00 local time.  The next day we sat down with our host to discuss our schedule for the time we would be there.  We found out that it was similar to their normal schedule, only they were adding a few things because we were there.

Wednesday night prayer meeting is taken seriously. Except for a brief devotional from the Bible, the rest of the time is given to prayer.  Several times during our weeks there Giovanni said to me, “We really enjoy praying together.  I know we are a small group, but that is fine because the ones who come really want to pray.”  One Sunday he told the people, “If you know there is sin in your life, I am asking that you not come on Wednesday night to prayer meeting.  Your prayers would be a waste of our time and God’s.”

Kneeling on the hard, tiled floor with heads bowed and arms resting on the seats of plastic stackable chairs, we prayed around the circle.  When it was my turn, I found it difficult to really pray as I groped for the right words in Spanish.  How I longed to pour out my heart to God the way the rest did, but as I stumbled, I was grateful that the Holy Spirit would take the requests of my heart and make them known to God.  As prayer continued around the circle, I reveled in the fervency and emotion of each person praying.  At 8:00, Giovanni dismissed those heading to my class, while the remainder would continue praying until 9:00.  As I walked toward the classroom, I knew that God had heard their prayers and would act on their behalf.  How glad I was to have this group of people praying for me and for our class as I taught. 

We began the class with nine people.  At about 8:30, another five people, whose jobs ended at 8:00 p.m., showed up.  I was encouraged by their commitment.  I taught on “Basic Questions to Ask Before Teaching.”  At the recommendation of the Avendaños, I had made 15 copies of my outline.  (The next week that was not enough, and by the fourth week, 22 people attended the class.) 

The next day was a “free” day, we were told.  Of course, I knew that on Sunday I would be teaching the ladies on “Teaching Young Children,” so I needed to spend my time getting ready.  This was brand new material for me to be teaching in Spanish.  I desperately needed large blocks of time to get ready, so I spent the morning working.

Lunch, the main meal of the day, was ready by 2:30 p.m.  We sat down to a delicious meal of stewed chicken and vegetables, rice, tortillas and limeade, made from freshly squeezed limes grown on the Avendaños’ property. 

After lunch, as it was considered a free day, we took the Toyota station wagon into San Juan Sacatepéquez, the nearby city.   Charlie was looking for an anniversary card for me, and he eventually found an “I love you” card that fit the bill.  Barbara needed some supplies for home school and for the children’s ministry.  They also wanted to buy flowers for a church member who had just suffered a miscarriage.  I was intrigued by the market, especially the flower vendors who had stacks of flowers to sell.

We made our purchases and left for Laura’s house.  She was in bed recuperating.  The doctor had told her she would need a week of rest, but it was her emotions, even more than her body, that would need recuperation as she mourned the loss of her child.  The flowers were lovely, but she barely noticed them.  After talking with her and kneeling around her bedside to pray for her, we left and returned home.

As soon as we returned home, Barbara left to take her very sick mother-in-law to the hospital.  Later that evening, Giovanni headed out to disciple a new couple in the church, so we stayed with their three delightful children while they were gone.  When they both returned home, we enjoyed a light supper and then retired to our room where I resumed studying.

The next day dawned bright and clear.  The only thing on the agenda for that day was the evening service at church.  That allowed me more time to work on my lesson for Sunday.  Both of us worked since Charlie would be preaching that night.

On Saturday, there was a men’s meeting in the morning and a teen meeting in the afternoon.  Charlie spoke at both.

On Sunday, I taught my class on teaching little ones to the ladies, and Charlie taught the men’s class.  Giovanni preached that morning.  In the afternoon at 4:30, Charlie preached at the service in the new church plant. 

On Monday morning I was back to studying because my lesson for Wednesday night would be a new one.  Not only was it material I had not taught since before I was married, but I also needed to do it in Spanish.  I would need lots of hours to prepare.  Charlie headed out with Giovanni and Otilio, one of the men from the church, to buy boots.  He had heard they were inexpensive there, and Otilio wanted to buy him a pair.  He returned with a beautiful pair of brown boots which had cost about $39.  The same boots in the US would have cost about $150.

Tuesday night was Charlie’s night to teach.  Bible institute started at 8:00 and went until 10:00.  By this time, however, Giovanni had become quite ill and there was no one to translate for Charlie.  Although my Spanish is hardly adequate, I was the only one available.  So with the help of a dictionary and lots of patience on Charlie’s part, we muddled through.

When we went to bed that night, I said to Charlie, “It’s hard to believe we’ve only been here a week.  It seems like a lot longer than that.”  It felt like the longest week we’d had in a long time.  Now that we knew the schedule, though, it would be easier.   

I had to admire Giovanni.  Yes, this was a more intense week for him because of illness (both his and his parents), but this is not much different from normal.  Every week, he prepares for all his meetings and he disciples three different couples.  He has three churches he is trying to lead, one of which is strong and healthy.  The other two are still in their infancy.  He is also the regional director for IPM, so missionaries in other countries report to him.  He has his aging parents living nearby, and he has a young family to take care of as well.   

Barbara, too, amazed me.  She is an excellent children’s teacher.  Every week she was teaching children’s Sunday School and she traded with another woman to do children’s church during the afternoon service.  There is also children’s club twice a month, and she directs that. She also directs the women’s ministry.  In addition, she is an always-ready hostess.  Several times people showed up at mealtimes.  We added plates, scooted chairs closer, and she served them with a heartfelt welcome. People come to her for prayer and counsel.  And, of course, the work at home takes up much of her time.

It was a huge blessing to be in Guatemala.  We look forward to future visits, and now we have a better idea of what a week will hold.

Guatemala: Land of "Pase adelante" and flowers

Where ever we went in Guatemala we were greeted with "Pase adelante."  This phrase, literally "come forward", has a meaning of "welcome" and "come in" all rolled into one.

When we got ready to board the mini-bus the driver would say "pase adelante." When I went to speak to the ladies in the kitchen of the hotel they would say "pase adelante." When we arrived at our host's house for meals; "pase adelante." In a store, a barber shop or restaurant they all greeted us with pase adelante.

The most amazing pase adelante was in the village behind the hotel. We arranged to get the gate unlocked and walked the 1/2 mile or so into the town. One of the first houses we passed had two ladies out in front. Joan started to take a picture and this opened up a conversation. We were invited into the courtyard of the house where Joan took a picture of the woman in front of the bed of flowers.

Guatemala is home to many of the flowers and houseplants we are familiar with in the US, except they grow naturally, and in many cases wild. The flower industry is big business in Guatemala. As we drove around we would see flower houses cascading down the mountainsides. They were plastic covered and without sides. Inside we would often catch a glimpse of flowers being grown for the world market. The sight of a Guatemalan woman in traditional huipil skirt and embroidered blouse and apron with a basket of flowers on her head going to or from the market in the town plaza was not unusual. The plaza would be surrounded by women selling fruit, vegetables, live poultry and rabbits, roasted iguana, and flowers. Many of the houses were festooned with vines and other flowering plants and a bouquet that would be extravagant in the US is available to a modest farmer in Guatemala.

A Whiff of Wisteria

For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.  As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.  For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.  Psalm 103:14-16

I smelled them before I saw them - a strong floral scent on the wind.  I looked around and didn't see anything that looked like it could be producing such a beautiful smell.  Then I looked up the road.  More than a block away, wisteria hung like clusters of grapes from a vine, high up in the trees.  The closer I got, the stronger the smell.  It was the first time I remember seeing so many of them growing wild.

I clipped one bunch of flowers and carried it home, placing it in a slender vase.  Within hours, however, the petals had shrivelled and died. 

They were so beautiful that the next day I returned to the tree-clinging wisteria vines to take pictures.  Once again I could smell them before I was even close.  Bumblebees buzzed among them, collecting their sweet nectar. 


I remembered the reminders from Scripture that our lives are temporary and short-lived.  We are like flowers of the field that (hopefully) give off beauty and sweet fragrance for a time and then are no more. 

Although the stem I had cut had withered and died, the scent was still there.  Gathering the petals together in a small bowl, I kept them by my computer so that I could catch a whiff of their sweet smell as I worked.


Lord, let my life be like these wisteria flowers.  Let it be a sweet smell to people around me.  Let it shout your amazing grace to everyone who stops to look at what You have done.  And when my life is over,  let it linger on for a while as a testimony to Your glory, creative wisdom, and power.