Rags and Riches

A week or so ago I was enjoying a swim in a friend's lap pool in Antigua in fairly perfect weather.  The pool offers unparalleled, commanding views of Agua, the inactive volcano due south of Antigua.  I couldn't help but think of the people I had seen earlier in the day crammed into a village church at the base of that volcano.  The village of San Miguel Escobar where many live, in very basic houses of cinder blocks with corrugated metal roofs, is a ten minute drive from Antigua.  More than 200 people, forty families who have lost their homes, are now living in the church and church yard.  Another 1,000 or so who have lost their businesses and/or cooking facilities are being fed at the church.  There is a certain amount of guilt in participating in disaster tourism but clearly the Guatemalans know that each disaster tourist might mean a bit more help so they talk and agree to be photographed.  Two of us went to have a look at what we had only seen on world news and we ran into my friend's carpenter in the church. "Don Julio" showed us both around the church and the area of the town where forty homes and six residents were lost.

Many bridges were lost throughout Guatemala during Tropical Storm Agatha.  The one in this village, sadly, held and was blocked by enormous trees and rocks that came down from the top of the volcano.  As a result the water rose from what is normally a lazy stream and flooded the land.  Portions of the stronger buildings still stood but for the most part what we saw was a wasteland of mud with little evidence that a month earlier people had lived there.  A bit further down the hill where some buildings still stood the mud line was half way up the walls and mud had washed through the houses taking of all the contents with it.  One of Guatemala's charms is that it is a "small town" where everybody seems to know somebody if not everybody.  Don Julio asked one woman whom he obviously knew if we could walk through her house which was vacant and actually quite grand but was missing its back wall.  The woman had an overwhelmed look on her face no doubt due from a couple of weeks of cleaning mud out of her house and the shop that once gave her a source of income.  Behind the house a man was making a feeble attempt to get a car that had obviously been covered with mud running again.  Beyond the car there was another wasteland where houses once had stood.  The only evidence was water bottles stuck on protruding pieces of rebar which marked where the columns of a house once where.  Piled in a heap was a "pila" the molded sink that is a required part of every Guatemalan home. 

As we approached the cheerfully colored yellow church we first saw a man who was organizing a group of children and playing games with them.  In front of the church was a huge pile of downed trees that had no doubt been hauled there to provide fuel for cooking for twelve hundred people.  There was also a long line of portable toilets.  Inside the church courtyard one was immediately struck by the number of people and piles of supplies as well as by the upbeat, organized atmosphere.  One corner had been closed off by sheets and was marked as the medical center.  Next to that area a number of women were making tortillas.  Another group of women lined a long table and on the wood fire was one of the largest cooking pots I have ever seen.  Amidst the piles of water bottles and other supplies the children (who were not in school as it was a Sunday) were lined up to get their lunch.  A couple of rooms were devoted to piles and piles of beans, sugar, rice, oil, milk, incaparina, toilet paper, diapers and more.  There was one television and several men were watching the World Cup.  In back of the church in a shed was a huge pile of foam and other mattresses.  Don Julio told us that the mattresses were put on the floor in the church sanctuary at night so that the residents could sleep.  Many children had found themselves a quiet corner to share their lunch.  For more photos follow the link below.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jfuetsch/sets/72157624320506482/

Estela reported that she and her children had gone through all their clothes and taken a quantity of clothing to the church for the "damnificados," are the victims are called in Guatemala.  

A number of organizations are doing what they can to help.  One such organization is ConstruCasa which, as many of you may remember, built Casa Broccoli.  They have built a number of homes in San Miguel Escobar and are currently trying to raise additional funds to aid those who have lost all or most of what little they had to start with.  For more information or to make a tax-deductible donation please visit their website at: www.construcasa.org.

I must admit that it troubles me to see such enormous need and such deserving people with engaging smiles who take it all in stride and then to return to the Silicon Valley and be assaulted by the entitled.  The cost of one Ferrari could rebuild all 40 homes in San Miguel Escobar.   The cost of one bag of groceries at Whole Foods could feed everyone in that church for a couple of weeks.  The homeless children in San Miguel Escobar laugh and play hide and seek behind the wood pile.  The entitled children in the Silicon Valley whine when their iPhones don't work.  What in the world is it going to take to level the playing field?  When are the entitled going to understand that poverty is everyone's problem?  Alex's youngest, little Michelle who lives in San Miguel Escobar but only lost the roof of the humble room that she shares with her mother and brother, is no less deserving than a kid in California with a wonky iPhone.

Speaking of Alex, father of many children, a month of so ago he thought he had cut a deal to upgrade his car.  He had a cash buyer for his existing car and a bit of spare change to add so I encouraged him to go forward.  When he went to do the paperwork on the new car the police turned up and took the car as it had been reported stolen so Alex wound up with no car, no money and no way to earn a living.  Yes, the bandito went to jail but Alex's money went somewhere else.  Another reason not to be poor and uneducated in Guatemala.  So, Tia Joan had to decide what to do.  Help him out again, or let him loose his sense of identity, his way to earn a living and to fail in the eyes of his children.  Fortunately, the perfect car was sort of waiting for this event and Alex is once again rolling and once again has some debt payments hanging over his head.

It's Very Complicated!

More than once I have said "I am doing it for the kids" and the kids are great.  Actually even greater now that I have gotten to meet two other, previously only rumored, children that belong to Alexander.  Unlike politicians in the US there was never any denial involved but it does sort of explain the decline in the relationship between Estela and Alexander.  Or was it the other way around?  It is definitely complicated but who are we to judge the poor with limited education, limited resources and not too many other ways to have a good time?  Certainly none of these excuses would apply to one time presidential hopefuls in the USA.

The reality is that "it is what it is," the children are here and Tia Joan has two more to help educate.  Gladly, a couple of years ago I made one of my all time best investments and thanks to counseling from WINGS (www.wingsguate.org) and my $40 Alexander had a vasectomy.   Santa Estela (mother of the first three) has been one of the first to say that the children are innocent.  Christopher, 3, has his Dad's charisma and Michelle, 2, her Dad's dimples.  Both appear to be clean, well-nourished and well cared for.  They both know what books are for as Mom reads to them which is a rarity in Guatemala.  So, I guess we can give Alex credit for picking good mothers and for taking some responsibility for all five children.  Now we all know the answer to the question of where all his money goes. And go it does.

As for those who don't belong to Alexander there are five in the village of San Antonio Aguas Calientes in school this year thanks to a donation from a womens' club in Southern California.  School is technically free and technically compulsory.  Neither are close to the truth.  Uniforms are often required along with gym clothing and school supplies as in the US.  Many families simply do not have the funds for school supplies or uniforms thus their kids just don't go to school.  Interestingly, two of the sponsored children, Veronica and Elmer, are siblings of "Charlie" who received a Rotary scholarship last year and apparently couldn't cope with being the oldest and the tallest at age 13 in the third grade. He dropped out and is, probably, up to no good.  His sister, Veronica, is 12 and very happy to be in the second grade and their brother, Elmer, 6, is also in the second grade though in a different class.  I explained to the two of them that there were able to go to school because some ladies in the United States were making it possible.  Elmer assured me that he could read.  The school year ends in October in Guatemala so if their grades are good they will be able to continue with financial assistance.

Speaking of books I was recently able to visit the Riecken Foundation library in Xolsacmalja, Totonicapan to which many of you have contributed.  The 100% indigenous village is about a 20-minute 4-wheel drive ride off of the paved, main road (3-4 hours west of Antigua) yet the progress in this library in scarcely a year was quite remarkable.  We were there to discuss an internet connection that is being partially funded by The Rotary Club of Woodside/Portola Valley (CA) and also to deliver two boxes of Spanish language childrens' books donated by a young girl named Quincy from Napa, California.  Quincy asked her friends to bring the books as gifts for her birthday party.  In the photo above Juana, who is the president of the library board, looks over the new books with her 3-year old niece, Elena.  Elena now has the very new prospect of growing up with books and computers in her life.  Despite, currently, having to travel by bus to another community for internet access the library staff managed to send Quincy a digital "thank you" for her book donation.

While at the library three young boys cornered me as "gringas" are a rarity in their community.  First, they eagerly posed for a photo so that they could see themselves on the back of the camera.  Then, they plied me with questions.  "Why are gringos tall?" was one of their first.  Since I wasn't sure of the answer I mentioned that gringos eat different food.  Then they wanted to know what gringos ate, what I ate when I was in Guatemala, how did I get there, how long did it take, what did it cost and why was my hair short.  I finally escaped the questions by asking them to get books and read so that I could take some photos.  All three read aloud in unison endlessly.  It was quite clear that they all were good readers and they were happy to show off their skills.  Bingo! Library

If you would like to read a bit more about the Riecken Guatemala libraries and see more photos just follow this link: http://rieckenguatemala.blogspot.com.

Real Food, Real Life

It is March. The jacarandas are turning the town purple. Mangos are in season and everywhere in great abundance. The Lenten festivities are in full swing. Fuego is spewing away and many are whining about all the dust. Organic "pollution" that is good for the gardens and also provides full employment for the muchachas. Unless you go to Hiper Paiz (Walmart) or Pricesmart (Costco) in the capital it is pretty easy to maintain a diet of "slow" and very fresh food by wandering through the mercado on market days. A chicken might even be "fresher" than you want to cope with. The carrots are enormous and very tasty, nothing like those that come from ten pound plastic bags in the states. Mushrooms smell like mushrooms when they are cooking. Strawberries look and taste like those from your childhood. Pineapples picked locally when ripe make the whole house smell good. Eggs have deep orange yolks because the chickens eat what they are supposed to and nothing that they are not supposed to.

This past week I had the good fortune to meet with the staff and some of the board members of the Riecken Foundation library in Xolsacmalja, Totonicapan. The library is flourishing after scarcely a year mostly due to the motivation of the members of the totally indigenous community who worked for five years to have a library. It has attracted international attention and is receiving funding from the Finnish Embassy in Guatemala City to pursue programs designed to keep the indigenous culture and their language of Quiche alive. Amazingly, a woman is now the president of the board and she has asked me for my email address despite the fact that the community does not have internet. Her name is Juana (second from left in the photo) and she wanted to know what I did for a living, how old I was, was I married. She too has a niece named Elena. She rides a bus to Totonicapan to use the internet in a cyber cafe. I expect that I will hear from Juana.

My Rotary Club (Woodside/Portola Valley California) has just approved the funds to install an internet connection in the library but on advice of the Riecken country director we asked them to submit a proposal including a budget and how the community would plan to pay the ongoing monthly costs. The expectation is that their proposal will show up very soon and we will then tell them that the funds are available. Their next dilemma is how to add to the three computers they currently have which are in constant use even without internet. It might have to involve another Rotary project.

Gladly, the tourists are returning to Antigua thus the locals who are dependent on the tourist trade for a living are breathing a sigh of relief. Antigua is definitely cheaper than London or Paris and the weather is way better, especially in March.

Life with Estela and Alexander is better than anything I have seen on television of late. At the moment they are not speaking so Alexander comes around on the weekend when Estela is not here to tend the garden. Yesterday he pleaded with me to let him run his laundry through the washing machine while he worked. When things are bad on the home front his biggest dilemma is how to get his laundry done. Despite the ongoing domestic dramas (I have lost total track of who is or is not doing what to or with whom) the children seem to be flourishing and are both enjoying and doing well in school. Denis turned 13 the other day and, oh dear, his voice has changed since I was last here. Can the hormones be too far behind? He does seem to be a sensible, sensitive kid but only time will tell. Heaven knows Alexander, who can be utterly charming but is really about ten at heart, is certainly not the best role model.

Next, a progress report on the young students
in San Antonio Aguas Calientes who are receiving school scholarships from readers of this blog.

A 14-year old teacher in Guatemala

When I built my house and hired Estela and Alexander to look after things I never dreamed how it might all unfold. Four years ago I heard about their living situation then saw it for myself. Fortunately, then the "Dow" was a lot higher then it is now and thanks to many of you, they now have a house and a garden which has, more or less, catapulted them into the wobbly middle class of Guatemala. The result has been that they have all been extending the acts of kindness to the less fortunate around them. Estela has had to receive treatment for cervical cancer, which is the most common killer cancer among women in Guatemala. Fortunately, because she has regular checkups hers was caught early and treatable.

Recently, while at the Cancer Center in Guatemala City for a check up Estela met a 22-year old woman with an infant and a toddler. Fifteen days earlier her husband, a bus driver, had been murdered by would be extortionists. While they were talking a doctor came out and told the young woman that her cancer was advanced and incurable. Alexander drove the distraught woman and her two children home to their ramshackle house in a very poor neighborhood and they both pondered what would become of her children. I was grateful that Estela hadn't offered to take them as I know that thought passed through her mind.

As a write Estela is overseeing the purchase of school supplies for little Sonia and her two sisters and two siblings of Charlie who continue to go to school. Thanks to a California womens' group for providing these funds which will pay for their books, school supplies and uniforms. Sonia is very excited to be starting school and with a uniform too. NY Times columnist and co-author of Half the Sky (a must read about the benefits of educating girls), Nicholas Kristof indicates that if a girl has a uniform she will stay in school longer.

Estela and Alex's daughter, Jackie, who turned 14 in November and who is a passionate reader, started reading stories to young children in their village during their school vacation. When I visited Casa Broccoli before Christmas the number had multiplied to 15 children all of whom sat in rapt attention and then participated in a question and answer session about the story. Thanks to Child Aid (http://www.child-aid.org/) I was able to supply Jackie and her "students" with a supply of books that will last them for some time. Child Aid also supplied pamphlets so that each child could either draw or write answers to questions about the stories to encourage creative thinking, something not normally included in the government schools of Guatemala. Many of these children had never handled a book before.

This Christmas season it was Jackie and Astrid's turn to see a lake, stay in a hotel and ride in a boat for the first time. They also learned how to play Rummikub.

Julio, the Spanish teacher of former visitors to my house, who is a single father of three and in his second year of studies to become a physical therapist, received another contribution from his benefactors. Only with these contributions is he able to continue his studies. His 16-year old daughter is also starting university this month and she wants to pursue studies in human rights, badly needed in Guatemala.

The Guatemalan school year starts this month and Jackie will start her last year of basico (middle school) and next year will be the first one in her family to start high school. She wants to pursue a career as a bilingual secretary thus will go to a secondary school that will head her down that path. Denis, who starts basico this month, continues to spend all his spare time on the computer. Santa Claus brought the family a Level 1 Rosetta Stone English program and Denis has been charged with seeing that the whole family pursues it. ("There will be a test in March.") Estela has "graduated" from her cooking school and now has a certificate as a professional chef. She starts English classes at the same school this month. Astrid is starting the fourth grade, continues to be the top of her class and also reads whatever she can get her hands on. Alex remains Alex. Charming, stubborn, caring, dramatic, always yearning for another car ("sure Alex, when you have saved half"). As much of his business is by phone these days over the holidays he exchanged cars with a friend who just finished law school and needs to make money in order to take the bar exam. Sergio was the taxista and Alex the private driver and they split the proceeds. So, he has some business sense just but no sense of saving money to fund his dreams.

More Photos December 2009

Fijase!

My dictionary translates this all too often used word in Guatemala as "Just Imagine!" I think it is one of those words that defies translation. Typically when the conversation or even the sentence starts with "fijase" (or the familar "fijate") you know that whatever you were hoping to have happen has not and you are about to be told why. Did you go to the bank? Fijase, but the bank was closed. Did you do your homework? Fijase, but I couldn't find my books. Did you feed the starving people in your country? Fijase, but we can't find the money. "Just imagine" may not quite be strong enough but lacking another word with more than four letters it will have to do.

So, fijase, but Charlie quit going to school. As much as he seemed to want to go he apparently couldn't cope with being the oldest and the poorest in his third grade class. He stole a small bit of money from the classroom and the teacher contacted Estela (as neither of his parents care whether he goes to school or not). Estela paid the teacher the missing amount of money and her children have banished Charlie from their house until such time as he repays the money. Sadly, Charlie has lost his one shot at rising above his very humble beginnings and will probably either end up in the United States picking fruit or in a gang. Fijase, but his government doesn't care if he goes to school either.

Estela and Alex's kids, on the other hand, are thriving and take their studies very seriously. In October Denis who is 12 was the second in the family to receive his 6th grade "certificado." When the school year resumes in January he will go on to "basico" (middle school) like his older sister, Jackie, who will enter her last year of basico. Astrid remains determined to be a doctor, Denis wants to be an engineer and also a computer "tecnico" while Jackie is thinking about becoming a bilingual secretary. Next October Jackie will be the first in either family to graduate from basico. It will be quite an occasion.

Just back from my first return trip to India since Pan Am was the way to travel there, I found myself marveling at the progress made in that country while little or none has been made in Guatemala. The main difference is a great emphasis on education in India. There are schools, universities and "coaching" centers for the challenged everywhere and lots of children in neat, clean uniforms practicing their English every chance they get. On the Kerala coast we were asked "please, I would like one ball point pen," so many times that we decided that it was representative of their first full sentence in English.

Back in Guatemala I took Alex, Estela and their children to Guatemala City to see a movie in a real theater. The children had never been to the capital before and none, except Alex, had ever been on an escalator before. I proceeded up the escalator only to find them all standing at the bottom wondering what was happening. Popcorn and pop for all and we saw "Illuvia de Hamburgesas," (rain of hamburgers) or, in English, "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." It actually had a good message for Alex, the distant padre.

As in the US the holiday season seems to start earlier every year in Guatemala. With a friend I went to a nearby village that must grow most of the planet's poinsettias as we visited nurseries that had literally thousands, as far as one could see. Most were marked "vendido" or "sold." Soon they will be in Home Depot in the states and on the streets of Antigua for far more than we paid for a dozen or so. The Christmas season in Guatemala is a mix of religious and thanks to those of us in the developed world, consumerism. There is a Christmas market selling creche provisions and also a fireworks market which blew up a couple of years ago thus it is now in a different location. The law dictates that all workers receive an extra month of pay mid- December and a lot of that seems to go for cerveza and stronger along with fireworks. The trees in central park are all lighted and the "posadas" which are processions of children seeking lodging for Mary and Joseph start mid-month. Feliz Navidad to you and yours!

Why Guatemala?

This is a question I am frequently asked and I always find it difficult to give the right answer in thirty words or less. Could be the perfect weather, could be the scenery, the restaurants, the $30 massages or the fun of running into people you know all over town, all involved in some sort of development project. But maybe it is the piles of fresh fruit and vegetables everywhere, mangos for a dime that you can scarcely lift, avocados by the dozen for a pittance. Or perhaps it is nothing more than the fact that the tension of living in the San Francisco Bay area just seems to melt away. It could be the friendly face waiting outside the customs hall. It could be waking up to a virtual symphony of birds just after dawn every morning or the friendly, smiling people with little more than the clothes on their back. As I write I am watching Fuego, the active volcano which is close but not too close, erupt. Fuego has been unusually busy today. One can only wonder why.

Today is Mothers' Day, here and there. It is always on May 10th in Central America and was actually started as a tribute to someone's mother rather than by a greeting card company. My friendly face spent this afternoon's earnings on flowers for his "Tia" (aunt) and the grave of his mother, who wasn't much of one. I hope that wherever she is, she appreciates the fact that he spent his last Qs on flowers for her grave rather than on food for his kids or gasoline for his taxi. Perhaps those of us have enough for both shouldn't judge or deny them a little frivolity now and then.

Speaking of frivolity the celebratory fireworks (another good way to use up what little money you have) are still ongoing for this three day weekend dedicated to the mothers of this country who get very little respect the other 362 days. Friday was a school holiday in anticipation of Mothers' Day (and what better excuse not to teach?). Astrid (9) told her teacher for the second year in a row that she had two mothers and, therefore, needed two invitations for the school festivities. Estela and I went together and sat in the front row to see Astrid and her cousin, Brenda, in a dance routine. The older boys in suits played the (of course) drums and marimbas. Interesting to see that among them was a severely disabled lad who was wheeled in by his classmates and a set of small drums was propped in his useless left arm. He joined in vigorously with his one good limb, his right arm. There was a lottery for "canastas" (baskets) put together by each grade filled with nutritious items like liters of Coca Cola, chips and marshmallows. Thankfully I did not win one. Estela got chosen by one of the older boys to go out on the dance floor and looked pretty good despite admitting to being mortified.

With the exception of Astrid who remains determined to be a doctor the other children including Charlie are still being challenged by school. They are good kids who are up to the challenge who do their homework but having parents with only a 6th grade education leaves them lacking guidance though they seem intrigued by the idea that with education they will have choices. Denis's current choice is computer technician. Astrid recently lectured Charlie about his reluctance to do his homework telling him that if he didn't do it I would not be paying for another year of school for him. Actually my Rotary Club paid his fees this year but he got right down to work.

The global recession has taken its toll in Guatemala. The Spanish schools are fairly empty as are the hotel and restaurants. The local newspapers tell us that remittances from families working outside the country are down significantly. Tourism and remittances are the two most important components of GDP here. As a result for the first time ever my beat up old, burlap coffee bag purse was slashed in the mercado. Surprisingly to me the perpetrators were all women. Several blocked my way and therefore succeeded in distracting me. Ha ha, they got nada as I had nada in my bag. Yesterday when purchasing a very fresh cauliflower and a bunch of giant carrots for Q4 (52 cents) in the same market I told the seller to keep the extra Q1 and to make sure that people in the market knew that if the slashing didn't stop (I showed her my bag which had been "repaired" with duct tape and was now serving as a badge of courage) that the gringos might stop shopping there. I have been told that the vendors understand this and don't like the thieves ever better than the rest of us.

On my way to the market yesterday a police car went screeching by me with its sirens blaring. It turned the corner that I was about to turn. I saw a number of people staring wide-eyed in the direction where I needed to go. I wondered what horrible scene I was going to encounter. I turned the corner and saw the remains of a motorcycle mostly under the front end of a mini-van. Both vehicles were on the wrong side of the street. I looked around not once but twice and there was neither a victim nor a driver of the mini-van. Clearly, this accident happened all by itself. No doubt the motorcycle driver had stolen the motorcycle and the driver of the mini van did not have a license. We pay dearly for insurance. They take off on foot. When I returned from the market a tow truck was preparing to tow away the undamaged but uninhabited mini van waiting for its owner to call and say, no doubt, that it had been stolen just that morning.

Estela and my neighbor's maid, Gloria, started taking computer classes on Saturday mornings. Last Saturday they did the unthinkable after their two hour class, abandoning their children and endless labor by taking the bus to Chimaltenango. This is sort of akin to taking a junket to Detroit in February. Such chatter. The men were furious, the children intrigued yet supportive. I encouraged them to make it a regular thing but suggested they stay in Antigua which is a lot safer than "Chimalt."

A couple of days ago Alexander came upstairs to where I was working. He was carrying my duffle bag from the garage and asked, with a silly grin on his face, if he could borrow it for an hour. When I questioned why, he reminded me of his friend who had found his wife a couple of days earlier in a compromising situation. As the couple and their three children lived with her parents this fellow had quite literally found himself on the street with his worldly possessions (mostly clothes) all of which fit into my duffel bag. The wronged taxista has moved into Casa Broccoli for the time being and Estela is happy to have a paying tenant. I tried to point out the irony of the Hispanic double standard to Alexander but I am pretty sure he didn't get it. Or chose not to.

So, why Guatemala? It is rarely dull, often frustrating. There is always something to do, something to be done. The Guatemalans are incredibly hard workers. They think nothing of working 12-hour days, six days a week for very little money. They often laugh when they have virtually no money. They eat when food turns up or they find an avocado tree. They talk about going to the United States but I suspect they are not sure why. They don't want to go but they want a better life for their kids. The old women reduced to begging on the street after a life of hard labor and childbearing bless you when you give them a few coins. Such is a day in Guatemala.