19 April 2009
21 February 2009
Antigua is a respite after a week of hard work
This week was hard work, but it was incredibly rewarding. We arrived in Antigua and immediately began exploring. Guatemala's colonial capital is incredibly well-preserved. It's gorgeous! 
20 February 2009
San Bernadino School
The last school we visited. The kindergarteners sang for us while their teacher played guitar. After the ceremony, the kids played in the schoolyard with us. These were the cutest kids!
17 February 2009
Dancing, hot springs and avocados!
Today's run was to the top of a neighboring hill, where we could see the entire valley of Huehuetenango. The steep hills were a bit too much of a challenge for me. I hiked rather than run.
The view was worth it. After a 7:15 breakfast, it was off to Agua Calientes hot springs for a swim and the ceremony. We had to drive right past the school to reach the hot springs, so we stopped to say hello. Pine needles were already spread out to welcome us, and the children in primary school greeted us warmly. A marimba band serenaded us, and, after some quick hellos, we set off for the hot springs, bag lunches in hand. The hot springs, which were just down the road from the school, were a few pools and a picnic area, with a changing area and some loos. The students followed us to the hot springs with their teachers. Watching gringos lunch and sunbathe was their noontime activity. It was a bit strange--I felt a little conspicuous. I'm incredibly pale, and the students were clearly not used to seeing someone who looks like me. (I get that reaction on beaches around the world. I'm practically glowing. We spent some time in the warm and cool pools. The hot was a bit too hot for much more than dangling feet, and on an 80-degree afternoon, the water was refreshing. By 1 we were back at the school.
All 24 students in grades 7-9 were awaiting us.
A gaggle of preschoolers, their faces and scalps full of glitter and confetti, saw my camera and insisted on sitting with me. They kept inching closer and closer, as in a game of red light, green light. They little girls would scurry closer, and when I'd turn around and grin at them, they'd freeze. Soon two little ones were at each elbow and another one was on my lap. They were about the same age as my little sister, Bella.
The older students entertained us with dances and skits, and the last class called a few of us from the audience to the stage. I danced with a boy of about 14 in a foot-shuffling waltz that thankfully required little coordination on my part. 
After a never-ending song--it was blazingly hot, even under a tent--we returned to our seats. Our respite was short lived. The town's Don Juan asked me for a dance, and I certainly couldn't refuse him. His compadre asked Catherine to dance, and we soon found ourselves on stage again. After another 10 minutes of dancing, we finally got to start playing and chatting with the kids.
I'd made some copies of some random family photos, then wrote Spanish phrases on the back of them. The students and their parents loved seeing them--especially the snow. Then one young mother asked me a question. I thought she wanted me to take a photo of her. No--she wanted one of my photos, and she wasn't the only one.
The mom who wanted one of my photos. What a cute baby!
About a dozen photos of me, my boyfriend, my family and Cincinnati are floating around the town of Agua Calientes. In a village far off the beaten path, in a place where four-wheel drive is compulsory and there's no paved road for miles, my Gramma Penelope's photo is hanging up somewhere!
We went to a small town called Colotenango, and after a quick bathroom break, we strolled through the market. I love shopping for vegetables, but it was not possible during this trip as all our meals were provided. However, knowing my adoration of avocados, my new friend Ivan--our photographer--bought me five for 1 quetzal.
16 February 2009
Day One of Book Deliveries!
Running went well. I kept a good steady pace for the more than two miles, though I walked part of the way back because my knees were freezing--we jumped in Lago de Atitlan.
The sun rose as we swam through the lake. The morning was clear, and the water--while cold--was calm and as smooth as glass.
We set out after a hearty breakfast--an omelet con vegetales, frijoles negros, queso fresco, fruta y tortillas. Running has helped me work up quite the appetite!
The drive from the lake to Xela (Quetzaltenango) was beautiful! We stopped at a textile museum where a cooperative of women are working to preserve Mayan traditional dress.
After a box lunch, we headed to our schools. We went to La Candalaria School, the largest in the program this year. More than 800 students greeted us. Crammed shoulder to shoulder in their gymnasium, the students applauded enthusiastically as we entered. My eyes welled up fro, the sheer magnitude of the event and the thunderous applause.
After the ceremony, we got a tour of the school. The students are 50 to a classroom, and the walls are sparse and often bare. There was no toilet tissue or soap in the bathrooms. The teachers had little more than a stubby piece of chalk and a blackboard. The students wore new gym uniforms over their dress clothes--black pants and white shirts for the boys and huipils and cortes for the girls.
The students were so enthusiastic. After the ceremony, we had time to interview some of the students. Their quotes were priceless--the kinds of statements you can't make up but are so perfectly fitting. One boy, Lesvin, told me he was happy that they would no longer waste so much time in class because they would now have books.
15 February 2009
Education is power
domingo 15 febrero 09
Today we took a boat from "Pana" to Santiago for shopping, a tour of the town square and a visit with some scholarship students. The sky was hazy, obscu
ring the view of the volcanos surrounding the lake.
Two young girls were on board to peddle their homemade crafts during the 45-minute ride. At first, having been instructed to let us come to them, they hung back and timidly watched us as we mingled and got to know one another. Dressed in the traditional Mayan clothing that they also sold, they were striking: clear mocha skin, thick jet black hair with eyes to match.
I bargained with them to buy a black velvet purse embroidered with multicolored flowers and trimmed with fringe. They allowed me to test my weak Spanish, and I asked if I could take a photo. They eagerly said yes. I kept chatting with them in my broken but enthusiastic Spanish (a French degree really hasn't come in handy very often!).
Estella (above left) is 17, I learned; Lelila is 15. The elder wanted to live in the States. She wanted help, a friend who could help her get there and get started. I gave her my email address, thought at first I felt odd about the situation. I hope they'll write. (They didn't.)
The children are amazing--especially the scholarship kids--Maria, Juan, Jose and Petrolina. It costs almost $3,000 to send them to school--a significant amount here. They've inspired me and exhausted me. I felt an overwhelming sense of compassion. These kids work so hard--and they've got little to show for it. Their father, Nicholas, is a brick layer. He's a kind man who wants the best for his children. He only had two years of school because his parents couldn't afford to send him. They needed him to work. He wants better for his kids, he says
Casey and Kathy with Maria and her siblings
Maria's father, Nicholas, is in the back right
Their home in Santiago de Atitlan. We were warmly received!
Maria's 6-year-old sister, Petrolina. I have a 6-year-old sister, too. Petrolina is so adorable, a real cuddle bug!
Being here has allowed me to revisit memories of Korea--the teaching and societal observations. There, parents spend massive amounts of money to educate their children. Here, the parents do the same, in a less ostentatious and more desperate way. Parents in Korea want their children to have the best education so they can continue to be the best--for their family and their country. The best scores, the best schools, the best colleges. Harvard or bust. Here, parents want better for their children in a realistic, proportional way. They want books for their children, they want a good job, a life outside of poverty.
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