While I’m under no illusion that there’s many of you “out there” today, I still want to wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving.  It has always been my favorite holiday, mostly because it’s just about family and food without a lot of distractions.  The retail world and black friday notwithstanding of course.  I can’t even bring myself to capitalize black friday.

While I don’t always see my kids on this actual day, I will still miss them especially today.  They have lots of family “obligations” on a day like today, so we have in the past often gotten together on the day before.  I will get to talk to them on the phone.  Every year my son-in-law Adam has to leave for Chicago on Friday for a big convention and has to spend the rest of the holiday weekend working.

Today I’ll be having dinner with friends and my Guatemalan family, the Westbys.

I pray for safe travels for all of you as you visit the important people in your lives.  And if you’re cooking, don’t burn anything, especially yourself.

Only brown and white!  🙂  (some of you will know what that means)

……. I think it was the 4th of July.  Sorry.  That song just popped into my head as I was writing this title.  Or was it Saturday near the park.  Yikes, move on eric.

Shakespeare in the Park?  I’ve seen this kid (blue sleeve T shirt), around the park regularly.  He seems to be quite the story teller.  I can’t begin to keep up with what he’s saying, but I can tell you he must be very entertaining.  He was speaking in a very animated way and the people who were gathered were laughing and shouting their encouragement.  He went on for quite a long time and seemed to gain energy and momentum from his audience.  A budding thespian me thinks.

The park is always a good opportunity to practice my Spanish with kids.  They like to engage visitors and they could care less if you get all the words correct and in the right order.  Oh, and they like to try to sell you stuff.

Today included a special opportunity to have the roles reversed.  There were a lot of small groups of junior high age kids roaming the park conducting interviews.  They are all learning English in one of the language schools and their assignment was to seek out English speakers and ask them questions.  It was fun and interesting to have the shoe on the other foot and be the one who was helping with finding the right words and sentence structure.  Like all kids, they attacked this project with varying degrees of self assurance, timidness, humor, seriousness, and in some cases fright.  This is a good time to observe that the learning of English is continually growing in Guatemala and thought of with increasing importance.  My sense is that knowing English is one of the new survival skills for the new generations of Guatemalans.

On a completely different note, I see that winter seems to finally be arriving in Minnesota.  I feel no need to rub it in, just be careful out there.

I am well and hope you all are too. 🙂

OK, I’m finally playing a little catch up with posting.  It’s amazing how busy a retired guy hangin’ out in Guatemala can be.  I won’t bore you with a blow by blow description, only some highlights.  I can tell you this, I think I’ve already walked about 50 miles or so this first week, and I do spend a lot of time in the park (see drinking too much coffee), which is always interesting.  After awhile the street vendors start to leave you alone ’cause they recognize you as a crazy old gringo who isn’t going to buy nada.

Saturday was an especially good and interesting day.  I decided to revisit a hike I’ve made one other time before, Cerro de la Cruz.  For you non Spanish speakers that’s Hill of the Cross.  This is a pretty famous site on the north side of Antigua, and I dare say most visitors who are able to make the trip, do.  It is a pretty steep climb.

I think this stairway probably makes this hike doable for many who otherwise couldn’t handle a rocky path.  Two years in the making, it was completed in 1991 with private funding from individuals.

Here is a view from near the base of the hill.  You can just make out the Cross right in the middle in that open area up on the hillside.  And here is what it looks like up close.

This is the view from up on top.  It’s almost wide enough to include the peaks of the two active volcanoes in this area of Guatemala.  That’s Agua on the left and Fuego on the right.  Of the two, Fuego is the most active, and if you look closely it has scarring on top from lava flow.  When there is lava flow you can sometimes see it at night. Otherwise small eruptions are mostly ash and vapor floating up into the sky.

If you draw a horizontal line in your mind through the center of this picture, just to left of center is where I’m staying and to the right, just visible over the tops of some trees, is the steeple of La Merced, a church I’ve mentioned in earlier posts.  Had a chance to chat with a group from Wisconsin while I was up here.  Connecting with others from around the US has always been an enjoyable part of my time down here.

When I got back down to the bottom, I stopped at a small park for some street food and was treated to a great game of wheelchair basketball.  These guys play rough and their athleticism is very evident.  I watched with amazement as one guy, who was knocked over, just “went with it”, rolled across his shoulders with his chair directly above him, and as his chair was descending he snapped his body and the chair popped back up on it’s wheels.  My jaw just dropped.  I was looking around for a Jumbotron so I could watch it again.  I have to say that I’ve never seen anything more than short video clips of wheelchair basketball.  These guys are somethin’!  If you ever get the opportunity, try sitting on a regular chair near the corner of the court, and see if you can shoot it anywhere near the basket.

In the background of the basketball picture are the ruins of Santa Rosa.  I’ve walked past here several times and there is restoration work happening everyday.  You can see there’s a small patio area completed and there is lighting built in to illuminate the front.  I’m guessing that this area can be used for weddings or other special events.

Right near the patio area is this partially restored ruin protected by fencing.  This could be an old baptismal fount, or an old wood fire oven.  I couldn’t find any specific info on this object.

A little more on the weekend to follow.  Love you all.

Mornings after mass are the best times to relax and hang out in the park.  It’s cool, (sweater or hoodie time), and quiet.  The city is just waking up and it’s before the very numerous street vendors descend on the park with their wares.  The most prominent sound is the rhythmic swish of the sweepers.

The building you see in the background photo of this worker houses the city offices and I believe it still is the residence of the mayor.

In recent days a flurry of activity has started in the park.  I’m guessing it is preparations for the Christmas Season.  The fountain is being cleaned and every day there’s been an army of ladder climbers stringing up lights in all the trees.  Last night I was on my way home after meeting my friends for a “winner, winner, chicken dinner”, and I swung by the park to see if they were turning them on yet.  Not yet, but I did capture this nighttime view of The Cathedral.

And here we are back to morning again.  This is the view when sitting at my regular perch for catching up on emails, reading, and posting.  The ruins of the Church of Santa Teresa are right next door.

So a couple of days ago I started working on this post I called Now and Then.  It’s my thoughts on how Guatemala is different today versus when I first started coming.  I quickly realized it could turn into a monster post, so now I’m thinking it probably will be a series of posts and I need to get them organized in my head.  Stay tuned, hopefully it will be worth the wait. 🙂

I am very well and hope you all are too.

I wrote this shortly after my very first trip to Guatemala years ago. Over the years it has appeared in a number of newsletters and small publications, and I wanted to share it with you here.  The style feels a little crud to me, but I left it as it is.  Re-reading it now, it at the same time seems like so long ago, and then, just like last month.  The faces, the sounds, and the smells all come back with amazing clarity.  I wish my short term memory was still this good. 🙂

AN AMERICAN BARBEQUE IN GUATEMALA

evan gel i za tion   n.  the act of evangelizing or the state of being evangelized.

The definition made me smile. It clearly suggests that evangelism is a two way street, a point I’ve made in a number of talks and witnesses in the past several years.  It is what makes community such a gift. And it reminds us that often the giver becomes the givee.  Here is one such story.

There were no spatulas in two different stores. There were however two utensils that probably have a name although I don’t know it. They were short handled and looked like a cross between a shallow ladle and a colander. Jorge and another young man watched with curiosity as I pulled the anvil off the shelf, put it on the ground and began pounding these mystery utensils flat. “Bueno” I said looking up at them and laughing. “Si” said the younger. Jorge just shrugged and smiled his very appealing “crazy gringo” smile.

The day before, all of the workers were gathered and told that the staff was going to have a cookout for everyone tomorrow. It took the better part of a day down in Guatemala City to find enough hamburgers, hot dogs, buns, chips, and beans for this simple gathering of 50. We would be using “homemade” charcoal. When Guatemalans cook, they douse their firewood, dry it and re-use it. They are masters of the efficient use of resources.

About mid-morning the event began to take on momentum. A number of the Guatemalan workers began preparing the space. It was a long, covered, outdoor work area with work benches going down the length of both sides. They removed the variety of vices, clamps, and cutting tools from the bench tops and washed them down. All the while they were chattering and laughing. One lasting impression I have is the image of Guatemalans doing long hours of physically hard work, and chattering and laughing the whole time. Whether you understand what is being said or not, there is no mistaking the sense that they are happy and grateful to be working. For the final touch to our party space they spread pine boughs on the ground. Yes, there are lots of pine trees in Guatemala. It is predominantly a mountain country. This is a traditional ground décoration for celebrations, and I was just knocked out by how festive it made a work shed look.

My friend Greg Scherer (the man who introduced me to Common Hope and Guatemala), and I were to be the cooks. For tools, we had a big pot, a grill, two very short “spatulas”, and a short pair of tongs. This was going get ugly for knuckle hair.

The big bean pot took up a big chunk of space on the grill top, so as we cooked the burgers and dogs we quickly put them into a covered pan and kept them in the beating sun to keep them warm. Later we would both laugh at how all of our efforts to keep the meat hot didn’t matter in the slightest. As we neared the end of the uncooked burgers and dogs the men had started to gather. Many of them were gathered around watching Greg and I and looking curiously at our culinary offering. They were of course chattering and laughing. It’s very likely that some of the men had only seen pictures of hamburgers and hot dogs, if that. Ernesto, a young lad who had become one of my favorites, walked up and turned my hand over inspecting the knuckle hair carnage. He pointed at the make shift spatula and held his hands about two feet apart as if telling a fish story.  His suggestion that it should be longer was clear, and he immediately knew I understood it when I pointed at my head and shrugged and nodded.  Simple connections without words are surely Grace filled moments.

The men began going through the line. While we were finishing up the cooking it was fun to watch their faces and listen to their banter as they filled their plates. You didn’t need to know the words. I was pleased to see that all of the supervisors waited for all of their men to go through the line first. After a moment I realized that no one was eating.  My first thought was that this American food just didn’t look good to them. But Greg and I realized simultaneously that they were waiting for everyone to be served and to give thanks to God. With over 50 people, for some it was a long wait. Greg just whispered, “look at that.”  Not a single morsel was touched.  It was one of the coolest demonstrations of respect by a group that I have ever seen.

When everyone had finally gotten through the line the two top supervisors of the Guatemalans both gave a speech. I could tell that they were talking about “the company” (Common Hope) and expressing gratitude for work and for the opportunity to start a new life at New Hope Village. I could recognize names when they were mentioned and I was honored to be mentioned by one of the men. One of the guys I had worked with for a couple of days caught my eye and pointed at me and smiled. A lump came into my throat because I knew he was telling me “your one of us”. The quiet passion with which these simple tradesmen spoke was beginning to bathe me with emotion. I glanced beside me at Greg, and he must have had something in his eye because he was blinking real fast. When the second speaker was finished he gave an inviting gesture with his hand and into the center of the long circle of men stepped a diminutive Guatemalan that was one of the older members of this group. He placed his hat on the ground and crossed himself. We all followed suit and he began his prayer. Although his eyes remain closed the whole time, he walked up and down the long circle. His prayer was in the foreground and in the background was a low din of murmured individual prayers. His voice ranged from a shout to whisper. At times his fists were clenched and at times he held his hands up, open to the sky. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he talked to us and to God. I was transfixed by this man and my tears matched his. Others were clearly moved and no one seemed to care in the least that the food was getting cold because this seemed like important stuff to all of them. You could cut the spirituality and sense of community in this group with a knife.

When he was finished everyone seemed to add their own Amen. And then as if turned on like a faucet the chattering and laughter returned and eating commenced. Overcome, I turned away to gather myself. I was absolutely overwhelmed by the fact that I had understood very few of the words, yet I knew exactly what they meant. I knew I had just been present for something very special and that the Holy Spirit was with us in this gathering. I knew that God had lead me to Guatemala for this moment. That he had brought me here to show me this. That this was one of those times in life when an unexpected reward comes our way. I had come to Guatemala to work and to help, but it was I who had gotten the gift.

There’s just no escaping the arches.  Actually Antigua has escaped the arches because business signs must be flat against the building.  They cannot hand out over the sidewalk or be lit.  This is a wise ordinance Antigua made years ago to preserve as much of the old historic character as possible.

An then, almost right across the street, are the old ruins of San Agustin Church.  There are many church ruins in Antigua.  Over the years, and sometimes centuries, they have been destroyed by war and earthquakes.  There are both government and privately sponsored efforts to restore some of them, but many stand simply fenced off in an effort to prevent further damage and vandalism.

Not very big by US standards, but this is a well stocked Office Depot. This wasn’t even a twinkle in the Office Depot’s eye six or seven years ago.

And right around the corner from OD, the partially restored back of San Agustin, now a museum and art gallery.

The Cathedral, one of my morning mass stops.

And as if in answer to prayers, 🙂 the micro brewing craze has come to Guatemala as well.  This place is new since my last trip here and the first of it’s kind in Antigua.

It seems like the best thing to do first is to show you my home for the next month.  Think of it as the latest version of a campsite with upgrades.

My apartment is situated in a small courtyard with six other apartments.  At the moment only one other appears to be occupied.  The courtyard is surrounded with chairs, benches, and small dinette sets.  Above where I’m sitting to take this picture is a terrace with two more apartments.

The apartment itself is small but well suited to my needs for a month.  There’s a bedroom with a bathroom and walk in closet adjacent, and a kitchen with a breakfast counter.

Situated in a very convenient location,  it’s only four blocks down to the Parque Centro (main square), and two blocks from La Merced, a frequent morning mass spot for me in my trips down here.  There’s a small store (tienda), right around the corner.

This morning I’ve already been to mass at the Cathedral, and my first tasks are going to be to find a power cord for my Kindle, which I left at home, and to buy a simple pre-paid phone to use while I’m down here.  It’s easier and cheaper to stay in touch with friends here, and I can get one for about 100 Q, which is about $13.

I am well and hope you all are too.

Pronounced “feen”.

So as not to leave you hangin’, I’m back in Minnesota having driven from Sleeping Giant Provincial Park to St. Paul.

Packed up a wet camper on Friday, but ultimately the decision to move on was made easier by the prospect of another wet morning on Saturday.  The decision to not stop anywhere on the North Shore before coming home was really made for me.  Truth is, I didn’t think this one ahead very well.  In my world everyday is Saturday except Sunday.  In the rest of the world of course, there are workdays and weekends.

Highway 61 was packed with people.  The parking lot at the Grand Portage National Monument Visitors Center didn’t have a parking space left. Grand Marais was already a mass of weekend humanity at one o’clock in the afternoon.  The prospect of stopping to exchange my Canadian money seemed fruitless.  There were cars everywhere, with dad frowning and mom pointing, that were obviously looking for  a place to park.  Lunch at the Angry Trout?  A pipe dream.

So instead, it was a Culver’s Deluxe burger in Two Harbors and a drive home.  The entire way, cars were streaming north.  I don’t know where they were all going to fit.

For those of you that followed along with me once again, my heart felt thanks for your interest.

I am home at the end of another safe journey.  Thanks be to God.  I am well, and I hope you all are too. 🙂

I came up to the truck stop to get a cell and wifi signal and to be able to look at the forecast.  It’s raining and this morning I was going to move back into MN either to Cascade or Temperance River State Park.  The forecast for the area between here and Duluth doesn’t really help me to make up my mind about staying or moving.  Sometime in the next couple of hours I’ll need to decide.

I am well and hope you all are too.

This photo is taken over looking Thunder Bay from the Terry Fox Memorial Lookout and Visitor Center. Remember Terry Fox? In 1980, with his cancer somewhat in remission, he attempted to run across Canada on a prosthetic leg to raise money for cancer research. Cancer had taken his right leg several years before.

He fell short of his goal. But only of his running goal. Just east of here is a sign marking the spot where Terry, his cancer once again trying to take his body, had to stop his run. Implored by his family and support team, without fanfare, he climbed into the van and rode into Thunder Bay.  He had run close to the equivalent of a marathon for 143 straight days. Terry slipped into the Kingdom the following year.

His legacy of fundraising alone is enough that his story should be remembered. In the 35 years since, hundreds of millions of dollars have been raised for cancer research in Terry’s name. But it is his legacy of courage and inspiration that has cemented his place as a Canadian Icon.