evacuated from the island of Utila

Dear friends and family,

I'm back safely with my host family in San Juan del Obispo, Guatemala, a day ahead of Hurricane Felix. We were evacuated from the island of Utila, Honduras and so I didn't get to finish my last two dives. However I did do four dives and successfully completed the PADI open water SCUBA diving training. I aced my final test and so I'm certified to go diving anywhere in the world up to depth of 18-meters (60 feet) or less. The night that I passed my test, I went out to celebrate with a friend and a pickup truck from the government was announcing in both Spanish and English that all tourists needed to evacuate the island the following morning if they wanted to leave the island before the hurricane. So the next morning most of us left on the 6 a.m. ferry and we headed inland six hours by bus to Copán, Honduras.

Copán is a lovely little town near some Mayan ruins. The next morning we woke up and while eating beans, tortillas, fried plantains, and coffee with lots of sugar, we heard that the hurricane was moving inland and was expected to hit Tegucigalpa (the capital city) that afternoon. So I quickly bought a bus ticket back to Guatemala and headed off to enjoy the ruins for a couple of hours before once again jumping on a bus.

Of course there's many more stories to tell, but I wanted you to know that I'm safe and sound after my two and a half week journey around Nicaragua and Honduras. By the time Felix hits Guatemala, hopefully it will just be a tropical storm instead of a category five hurricane. Please pray for all the people who couldn't leave.

You may have heard that I'm moving back to Humboldt County for at least the next little while. I will once again be working part-time for Disabled Student Services (DSPS) at College of the Redwoods, while I apply for graduate school. I hope to earn a master's degree in information and Library science. I will be arriving in Eureka/Arcata on Thursday, September 13.

PADI scuba diving school

Hi dear friends,

I´m with a friend Betina from Switzerland. We're at Cross Creek, PADI scuba diving school on island of Utila off the coast of Honduras in the Carribean. Been studying hard last night and this morning. 3 days of Open Water Diving certification. PADI Certified. Lots of good schools on this island, but after looking at a few we chose Cross Creek. http://www.crosscreekutila.com/

I remember my brother Rick getting PADI certified. Now it's my turn. Later when I'm back in Humboldt I'll explain this in more depth (ha-ha). I have to get to class. Training for 3 days and then 2 free fun dives. Very cost effective and safe here.

Blessings,William

on the north coast of Honduras

I´m now on the Honduran Caribean coast. Went for a walk with a new friend to see Garifuna (descendents of black slaves) Villages. We saw monkeys in the trees, swam in the very warm sea, and drank coconut milk out of freshly cut coconuts. It´s very nice here, tropical wonderland: long beaches, palm trees, rain at night, very warm. Yesterday I rented a bicycle and rode around the town and around some old banana plantations.

On Sept. 13th I´ll be returning to Humboldt to work at CR, temporarily. It seems that my skills are needed there right now and it will be wonderful to be around old friends for a while.

From León, Nicaragua

So far I have found the Nicaragua People to be some of the friendliest, cosmopolitan, outgoing, and kind people I’ve met in Central America. Although their country is statistically only second to Haiti in this hemisphere in terms of poverty, they have some great art and culture.

If you ever travel to Nicaragua, remember to ask when the water and lights will be out. Due to corruption and a deteriorated infrastructure, the electrical system will not power the entire needs of the country, therefore the electrical water pumps don’t always run. So here in León, Nicaragua, we don’t have running water from approx. 6 a.m. until 7 p.m. It’s not that big of a deal because people just fill up their little wash tubs and buckets.

Things I will remember from León:

The variously colored colonial buildings, the Benjamin Linder Café where people with disabilities work, , tiled sidewalks that are wide enough, the shoe shine boy who told me Nicaraguan legends and fables, reading poet Rubén Darío and then visiting the place where he lived, beans and rice and chicken lunch for approx. $1.60 at the comedor, palm trees, nameless streets, friendly people who helped with directions, the photos of the Sandinista revolution, the University HR guy who came to my table to eat lunch with me and talk to me about my views on Nicaragua, my haircut from ex-Sandinista soldier who told me about his brother who was killed during their fight for independence, groups of school children visiting “The 21,” wicker furniture, political murals, people who love talking to North Americans even though they disagree with U.S. Government policies, Internet access for 60 cents an hour, horse drawn carts, milk in milk cans, geckos on the walls, the sound of birds, church bells, ice cold bottle of soda, hammocks…

Granada:

More colonial architecture, the elderly couple who rented rooms, buying fresh mangoes and star fruit in the boisterous market, squealing pigs being carried by boys, horse drawn carriages, pizza with spinach, being asked for handouts, kids throwing stones in an attempt to procure mangoes, the little bookstore and her nice smile, eating beans and rice while talking to Italian grad. student at the Bearded Monkey, reading Rubén Darío by the lake, the guy who warned me it wasn’t safe for extanjeros to walk in the park solo, the Third Eye, sushi, art, the churches…

Managua:

The National Library, beautiful smiling women, helpful / friendly taxi drivers, the bookmobile with “libros para todos,” vegetarian soup and rice, motorcyclists wearing helmets, rows and rows of tents of banana workers demanding better wages from Nicaraguan and U.S. companies, people dancing in the National Palace, school buses without paint, the old Cathedral with its bullet pocked tower, the young Spanish speaking British medical student who has been working in rural northern Nicaragua, the beggars, the guy twirling in the street, so many piles of garbage, street vendors, the new Cathedral with Jesus under glass, Bismarck and drinking Toño and Victoria and talking politics….

I’m now off to Northern Honduras (heading past Tegucigalpa to San Pedro Sula), a 12 hour bus trip from Managua. I leave tomorrow (Saturday). I will have plenty of time to read and think about what I’m going to do next with my life.

Visiting Managua, Nicaragua

After a 2 day bus ride (with sleepover stop in San Salvador), I arrived in Managua, Nicaragua 2 days ago. The power was out when I arrived and I had no cordobas—the national currency. But U.S. dollars often work around here and luckily I had some. I paid $5 for a little dive hotel and then took a taxi to local mall to use a cash machine.

I’m staying in a little neighborhood near the TICA bus stop. Lots of little hotels and restaurants, I heard it called “gringolandia.” They say crime is rampant here, but I haven’t encountered anything strange except for a bunch of kids and drunken guys asking for cordobas. Right now I think Guate. City and San Salvador are much more dangerous.

I’ve actually been having a great time here. I walked down the street to a local bar and drank some beers with Bismarck, a Nicaraguan guy about my age who works at the local Coca-Cola bottling plant. . We talked about politics and U.S. policy.

He said that the Coke employees here haven’t experienced the same oppression and the union leaders have not had problems like in Colombia. He told me that most people here do NOT dislike U.S. citizens, but they need our help especially after the U.S. backed contra war which has literally devastated this country.

Yesterday I took the bus to the old cathedral, partially destroyed in the 1972 earthquake and it’s no longer used. It is very picturesque in a stygian sort of way. It was a Sunday and it was wonderful to sit under a tree and look at Lake Managua, and feel the tropical breezes. I ate great local food and watched the people going in and out of the free UNESCO bookmobile that had “libros para todos” (books for everyone) pasted on all four sides. They don’t lend out books and people can read all day if they so desire. I watched some parents trying to entice their children to stop reading and come with them, sometimes without much success. It made me think even more about the possibility of being a librarian. Here in Nicaragua, before the 1978-79 revolution, less than 49% of the citizens could read. Part of the Sandinista revolution involved sending out young people to teach reading. After the literacy campaigns, 90% of the people could read. How can I be proud of my country which tried to stop people from learning to read or from trying to get better medical care?

Nicaragua is probably the poorest country I’ve ever been in. But I’ve found many of the people to be friendly and talkative and I feel grateful to be here. I plan to head off to Granada tomorrow and then we´ll see where I end up next.

Blessings and peace to you all.

Before I leave Central America

More life changes for William. I decided to quit my volunteer job three weeks early serving kids from the garbage dump with Camino Seguro. I hope all the kids are well, but I don't need to get burned out before trying to go back to work.

I finished my 10 weeks of intensive Spanish study and I did pass my written and oral Spanish tests. I will be receiving six rural Guatemala University credits.

Before I leave Central America I want to travel some more. So I'm heading down to Managua and León Nicaragua, and then around Honduras. Exact travel plans are indefinite, although I would like to see the social projects run by a saintly Catholic nun in Honduras. She supposed to be somewhat like Mother Teresa.

I'm a free man and this is my chance to spend some time learning some more about the world, and my Spanish is good enough. After my adventure here, we'll see what I do. Still considering to which grad school programs I wish to apply.

By the way, if you plan on traveling in Central America. Here are some suggestions (below).

Peace be with you all,
William

Survival guide for Guatemala -- or what gringos should know

• Toilet paper goes in the basket next to the toilet, not in the toilet or else it will block up the pipes.
• Don´t drink the water unless it's purified or from a sealed bottle.
• This includes don't brush your teeth with tap water unless it is purified, and close your mouth in the shower.
• If the street is empty, day or night, it might not be best to go down it alone
• watch your feet at all times, there are lots of steps, truck tires, holes and other dangers
• watch your head, iron bars on windows and other obstructions abound at head level while walking Antigua's narrow sidewalks
• traffic will not necessarily stop for you at intersections
• men: always take off your hat/cap before entering a church, and also during mealtimes
• don't take pictures of indigenous Mayan people without asking, it's considered rude and demeaning
• cipro can be purchased here in local pharmacies, make sure you have some on hand
• If you want a warm shower with a flash heater, don't turn up the water pressure. You can either have warm water or pressure, but not both at the same time.
• wallets are for money that you may want to share with other people in public, i.e. pickpockets; passports and money that you really want to keep should be kept in hidden waist, belt, etc. carriers
• use every chance you can to get change -- 100 quetzal notes are often almost worthless at times depending upon the situation
• hint: if you exchange money in a bank, try to get 50 quetzal or 20 quetzal notes for at least part of the transaction. Or go to the “Bodegona” supermarket and buy something to get change for your 100s.
• chicken buses will generally not stop for you unless you are on a city corner or a straight stretch of road
• a simple arm wave will let the driver know that you want a ride
  always ask the driver before getting on where the chicken bus is going -- don't assume the painted sign on the front of the bus is accurate
• as soon as you get on the bus, hang on...
• and also hang on to your backpack -- hint use a carabineer to keep prying hands out
• you don't pay when you get on the extraurban buses, someone will come around to collect
  stand up and start heading towards the front or the back of the bus at least two blocks before your stop
• usually the electricity works here, not always, but usually
• usually there is running water here, not always, but usually
• many people eat with both hands above the table, tortilla/bread goes in the left hand
• index finger flicked side to side = NO
• Saturday evening, expect to eat Guatemalan tamales which are different from Mexican tamales -- whatever the case, don't eat the banana leaves
  
  
  William Straub
  

What am I doing?

14 July 2007

I've been in Central America for over four months. What have I been up to lately?

I am again taking formal Spanish classes, five days a week, and in four weeks I will take both a written and oral exam to receive credit from the Rural University of Guatemala.

In the afternoons, I've been volunteering at Camino Seguro. On Mondays I teach computer classes. The other days I help the children with their schoolwork and/or other activities such as English language acquisition, horticulture, playing soccer, playing on the swingset, Legos, etc. Some of the children's behavior issues remind me of jobs I had many years ago.

I have been enjoying volunteering at the little library in the town of San Juan del Obispo every Saturday afternoon.

I'm considering the possibility of having the experience of living in a different village/town other than Ciudad Vieja in Guatemala.

Blessings and peace to you all,
William

Travelogue #12 El Salvador

(updated) Choices of the Heart, signs of hope in El Salvador

Back in 1984, right before going to college, a Catholic priest showed a movie about Jean Donovan who worked in El Salvador as a lay missionary helping children. Finding out about her life and death, the wars in Central America, and my country's involvement down here changed me profoundly. For the first time in my life, I had a profound reason to learn Spanish. I started studying liberation theology in college and joined Amnesty International, writing letters trying to stop human rights abuses. A few years later I worked for a total of approximately 8 months with refugees from Central America who had come to El Paso in an attempt to get political asylum in the U.S. As you know, after college my life went in another direction and so it is only recently that I've been able to fulfill my dream of living in Central America. Of course it took me 20 plus years to get down here, and over that time, peace accords have been signed, and human rights abuses have diminished.

So when Mom and Dad said they would come visit me in Central America, we explored some options and signed up for a GATE tour (Global Awareness through Experience) to see some of the sites in El Salvador which I had learned about earlier in my life. It was a rather unique non-touristy "vacation" experience that we had with five other individuals over the span of nine days.

Every day we had at least a couple of activities / visits and so we got a chance to meet and talk with individuals and groups working for social justice in El Salvador. After a brief historical introduction to the reason for the inequality of land distribution in Central America, we met with youth group leaders and priests who continue the tradition of liberation theology, trying to empower the impoverished to improve their own lives. Another day we spoke with the Mothers of the Disappeared who lost loved ones during the internal conflict. And of course we visited the memorials where some of the lay people, priests, and nuns who were serving the poor served and where they were tortured and killed including where Jean Donovan perished. I broke down crying while seeing the Wall of Remembrance which names the thousands and thousands of civilians who were disappeared and/or killed.

One of the most hopeful signs for the humble people of El Salvador was visiting with Emilio who has helped to organize a number of small cooperatives including producers of organic dried fruits, cashews, milk, honey, and even gourmet cheese (all organic), along with youth groups, scholarships for kids to attend school, economical water purification systems, ecotourism, etc. They still have a lot of work to do to try to export their organic products, but it seems to be a sustainable model for growth and development for even the poorest people in the Lempa River area east of San Salvador. As a testament to the success of these cooperatives, there are no people involved in the cooperatives who are leaving for the United States, nor do they have any gang problems, unlike pretty much the rest of the country.

We met with a doctor who is also a Maryknoll Sister who has dedicated her career to serving people with HIV AIDS, and actually she is trying to empower women to stop some of the machismo in their own homes.

Another sign of hope we saw was a group of women who have joined together to help small rural communities get the funds to dig water wells so the people do not have to carry water so far. A group of North Americans had donated some money a couple of years ago, and so the small village of San Juan near the city of Armenia could get a well and pump. They were so happy that they didn't have to carry water 2.5 km every day nor did they have to buy the polluted water sold by the barrel from misanthropist business people. The kids of the village had practiced a number of dances and songs to entertain us and to thank North Americans for their support. It was really a humbling experience, and so sweet to see the people so happy to have precious H2O. Another village is hopeful they can share the same well at San Juan, they just need to come up with $9,000 in order to purchase the pump and PVC pipe.

There were lots of other signs of hope including young pretty Marguerita who is going to law school while still continuing to advocate for rural water rights; the young men of the youth groups who have decided to stay in El Salvador and have avoided joining the gangs; all the young people I saw him wearing Oscar Romero T-shirts; plus all the great laughter and beautiful smiles of the friendly openhearted Salvadoran people.

Besides the emphasis on social justice, we did do a few touristy things. One afternoon we traveled up a beautiful lush green summit with beautiful views of a volcanic lake. And the last day before leaving, we enjoyed some wonderful seafood and spent the afternoon playing in the waves on one of the white sand beaches.

I am really grateful that I could tour with Mom and Dad for a total of almost three weeks. We all learned a lot and it opened our hearts and minds. Plus we enjoyed lots of different flavors of ice cream on an almost daily basis in the tropical heat.

Now I'm back in Guatemala working with the kids from the garbage dump. I'm still waiting to teach computer classes, they should start next week. In the meantime, I've been reading storybooks to them, helping them with their English and math skills, and also helping the cook by chopping up donated vegetables for meals for both the children and the staff. I'm also taking some time to think about what I'm going to do after these adventures.

Know that you are in my thoughts and prayers,
William

Travelogue #11, Liberation Theology, El Salvador

Hi Dear Friends and Family,

The earthquake we felt a few days ago was minor and didn´t do any damage. It was much stronger in Guatemala, but apparently no one was hurt. Mom, Dad, and I are fine.

We’ve been learning about the oppression and poverty of the Salvadorian People by going to visit different individuals and groups working for social justice. For example yesterday we had a group discussion with a Catholic doctor / sister who graphically showed us issues with HIV/AIDS here in Central America. In the morning we met with a Catholic priest who is literally putting his life on the line to help empower the poor of his parishes to improve their own situations through base communities. If he hasn’t already been receiving death threats, he probably will be as the two priests before him were murdered by the government for doing similar work.

Liberation theology is a preferential option for the poor, and looking at how societal structures can be changed through giving impoverished people the language and conceptual tools to start to work for their own betterment. It is radical, revolutionary, and a great threat to the U.S. Government and the few wealthy who live here.

I studied social justice and liberation theology over twenty years ago, but it continues to be challenging, emotionally, spiritually, and intellectually. I need to ask myself several questions including, what am I doing to change the U.S. Government to make it more just and less oppressive of poor people both within our borders and in Latin America and the rest of the world? The U.S. Government still teaches torture at the “School of the Americas” (now renamed but doing the same work) in the State of Georgia. What is being done with my tax dollars and how am I working to change that? How does my lifestyle rely upon the enslavement of poor people including migrant workers and oppressed foreign workers who are not paid living wages? You may wish to ask yourself some of the same hard-hitting questions.

To see a few pictures and to read a little bit more from Charish Badzinski, a freelance writer who is accompanying us on this trip, please check out http://gate-travel.org/Articles/El_Salvador_Blog

Travelogue #10, El Salvador, Issues with Being a Vegetarian

San Salvador, El Salvador

Mom, Dad and I arrived in El Salvador on a Pullman bus from Antigua, Guatemala yesterday. We will be going on tour to learn about human rights and social justice issues for the next 9 days. Mom Dad arrived in Guatemala one week ago and we’ve been visiting some great art and history museums plus we went to some sacred Mayan ruins. More about this later.

After nineteen plus years I’ve started eating chicken again. I had originally stopped eating meat so as to be in solidarity with the poor on the border of Mexico who couldn’t afford meat/poultry, plus all the petroleum and water needed to produce feed for livestock in the U.S. But I’m in Central America and people eat whatever they can here including lots of chicken. Yes, there are beans, rice, and tortillas for protein but usually people refuse to eat that 3 meals a day. Over the past few weeks, I’ve had several conversations with various people about the pros and cons of a vegetarian diet here. When all is said and done, it’s more expensive to eat soy / tofu, lentils, whole grains, etc. which mostly are imported than to eat what the majority of people are commonly eating. Most of my food has been prepared with/next to chicken anyway, and hopefully my expanding my diet will ease some minor tension with my host family in Ciudad Vieja. Note that when I return to the U.S. I plan to return to being a vegetarian again, but in the meantime, when in Rome....

Travelogue #9: Guatemala, land of contrasts

Friday, 1 June 2007

Travelogue #9: Guatemala, land of contrasts

Guatemala -- land of contrasts.

Guatemala: dirt streaked faces on children dressed in rags; heaps of burning garbage souring the air and making one's eyes burn; still more discoveries of mass graves from people murdered by the government sometime between 1960 and 1996; old mufflerless, overcrowded school buses, honking their horns from 4 a.m. until 9 p.m.; anorexic looking roosters crowing all night long; illiteracy; corruption; garbage choked rivers that are more or less open sewers; 200,000 men and women and children murdered or disappeared by the government; pesticide runoff from multi-national agribusiness companies; burning sugar cane fields; dozens of alcohol bottles littering the streets which kids use to sniff glue to get high and to cut their hunger pains; lack of clean water for people to drink; more gang violence reported in the capital city; child labor; rotten corpses of chickens decaying on cobblestone city streets; polluted water, air, soil....

Also Guatemala: smiling content faces; laughter; caring friends; teenagers and adults who make the sign of the cross when passing near a church whether riding on the bus or on the back of a motorcycle; nighttime processions of prayerful, respectful people holding candles and performing the stations of the cross outside, blessing their neighbors houses in Ciudad Vieja; beautiful conical volcanoes and puffs of smoke and/or cloud halos; traveling from rain forest to pine forest to desert within two hours; warm beautiful sunny days; lovely rainy evenings; organic macadamia nut farms with owners who freely distribute macadamia nut trees to indigenous Mayan communities to help; bucolic peacefulness of farmers tilling soil with horses or burros; throngs of people carrying one casket of a dearly beloved friend/family member through city streets stopping all traffic; chanting songs; wonderful smell of roses on shady afternoon patios; three young people helping a woman whose motorcycle is fallen over in the street; carpets of colored sawdust and vegetables which people work on all night long and yet the procession will trample in mere seconds; church ruins with scattered carved rubble; women carrying baskets, bundles, a watermelon, bags of flowers, mangoes, peanuts, whatever on their heads; beautiful purple petals from trees creating lavender carpets of splendor on city sidewalks and highways; poetry, dancing, and free musical events set against the backdrop of a colonial church façade; crystal blue lakes surrounded by volcanoes; buenos dias, buenos tardes, and buenos noches; a little orphan girl at Camino Seguro gives me a balloon; another girl asked me to open my mouth and close my eyes, and then puts a stick of gum in my mouth; a guy overhears my conversation with another Guatemalan about how to change buses in Guatemala City. He later taps me on the shoulder to let me know that this is the bus stop where I need to get off; handmade tortillas still warm from the corner store; the young man who stops for five minutes to listen to the birds with me and to tell me their names, but only in K’ekchí because he doesn't know the Spanish names for them; beautiful waterfalls, fecund rainforests, and all the birds...

I guess it depends upon how you look at it....

Apparently I'm dealing with culture shock. My initial near-euphoria of being back in Guatemala has mostly worn off. I've been struggling with some of the more negative aspects of Guatemalan culture, but have managed to focus on the more positive.

The fact is I can choose to either focus on the garbage, the violence, the pollution, the grinding poverty, the injustice here; or I can still be aware of those more negative elements of life here in Guatemala but instead focus on the beauty around me in the present moment and enjoy the simpler lifestyle.


"It's time to make up your own state of mind..."
-Natalie Merchant

I guess my photographs tell what state of mind I'm in too. Compare the following photos showing where I live in Ciudad Vieja. One looks more like a slum,



and the other emphasizes the beautiful Agua Volcano, at least in my opinion. The yellow arrow is pointing to my bedroom door on the second floor of the green house. Pardon the cliche, but what I'm trying to do is to change my point of view.

The rainy season has begun. Here they call it invierno (winter) and the rain that falls almost continuously is called chipi chipi. The word is probably onomatopoeia because of the sound it makes on tin roofs. Once the rains started a few days ago, zompopos “flying ants” have been crawling all over and literally dropping out of the sky. Yesterday at Camino Seguro, I was helping the cook Maria Luisa in the kitchen by paring vegetables and scrubbing the pots necessary for making dinner for the 44 children and dozens of staff members. While I was working, some of the niños brought in flying ants in a small plastic bottle, and the cook was kind enough to fry the larger ants with some salt and a little lime juice. I'm told they're quite tasty and they are a good source of protein. Are vegetarians allowed to eat insects?

In typical Bill fashion, I've been working on a number of social projects at once. In fact I'm working on four. Occasionally in the evenings I am standing little blocks of wood to make blocks for the kids, I've been going to the Spanish-language school to help them translate their website and volunteer opportunities book into English, on Saturday afternoons I volunteer at a little local library, and five days a week I work with the kids at Safe Passage/Camino Seguro.


I've been trying to help the little library get two very old computers working with educational programs for the kids. I've also gotten to read Spanish-language stories to them and to help them with some of their games and activities.
Here is the translation of La Union language school's volunteer book description of the library:

Biblioteca Comunal Luis de León
The library is located in San Juan del Obispo and was founded in the eighties, but because of the armed conflict the Government closed all the libraries (reading was prohibited). So responsible people took the books from this place to their homes. In 1992 the library was opened again to the public with the current name Biblioteca Comunal Luis de León (named in honor of one of the best writers of the 20th century and who was born in San Juan del Obispo), but there was nobody who could always keep it open. So it was not until 2006 when the group “Probiblioteca” (with a majority of young people), including the writer’s daughter (Mayarí de León González), took on the challenge of keeping the library open on an ongoing basis.

The goal of this library is to give support and education to children and teenagers in painting, music, and lecture; besides rescue the history of the village through the writer’s life.
Presently the project works out of the LIBRARY which is open from Monday to Friday from 7.30 p.m. to 10 p.m. and on Saturday from 3 p.m. to 7 p.m. They offer a PROGRAMA ESCOLAR for children and teenagers, a MUSEUM which is situated one block from the library and a THEATER GROUP in which 19 people of different ages participate. In the library 7 people work as honorary volunteers and thus the library incurs no costs.
The Biblioteca Comunal Luis de León serves 65 children between 3 and 15 years of age. They offer classes on Saturdays from 3 p.m. to 7 p.m. in which the children can attend various courses (painting, music, handcrafts, etc.), and activities (go to the park, mountain, etc.). Besides, the children receive a reward for good attendance in the classes, for example they earn a trip to the zoo. To lower/reduce the costs the project requests Q5 for every child for every course. The majority (70%) of the children are from poor families, so the project assists family can not pay for it.

As a volunteer you can help organize and maintain the library, help with the lectures for the kids, work as an English or assistant teacher (no experience necessary), or make furniture for the school and the library. Volunteers are asked to stay at least for 3 Saturdays and it’s important that they like to work with kids. To volunteer you need an intermediate Spanish level. If you would like to contribute with a special course or you have an idea, please contact us.

If you wish you can donate educational materials (children’s books, lecture books, art and coloring books, educational pictures, cardboard, sheets of paper, etc.), school implements (crayons, pencils, glue, paper, recycled paper, etc.), any kind of educational game (table games, etc.) for children and teenagers, or any donation. The Biblioteca Comunal Luis de León will be happy to receive your help.

---

Mom and Dad are arriving next Wednesday, June 6. We'll spend a few days in the capital city, and then they'll come see where I live before we head to El Salvador for ten days. I'm really looking forward to spending some time with them and enjoying some of the wonderful Central American Culture with them.

I hope you are all able to look on the brighter side of your lives too, and I hope you are surrounded by friends and family.

Blessings,
William Straub

Travelogue #8 -- Traveling to Chiapas to Renew My Visa, and Guatemalan Volunteer Work

Traveling: it's like watching a movie, but you can't just walk away easily back into the parking lot to go home. Traveling is 3-D surround reality including smells, tastes, and all the senses.

I've been following the Mayan trail. I purchased a $50 one-way minivan ticket from a Antiguan travel agency to travel to San Cristobal de las Casas in Chiapas, Mexico. Actually Chiapas used to be part of Guatemala and it's still is rich with indigenous Mayan culture. San Cristobal is the city where the Zapatistas started fighting in the mid-1990s, but is now peaceful except for some graffiti in support of the Oaxaca people's liberation and indigenous independence. San Cristobal de las Casas is named after Bishop Las Casas who tried to convince the conquering Spaniards to treat the indigenous peoples with some semblance of dignity and respect.

San Cristobal is similar in many ways to Antigua, Guatemala. They are both touristy towns with intriguing colonial architecture. San Cristobal has stoplights and the traffic is somewhat more gentle for tourists. Antigua has more ruins, in my opinion it's more quaint, and I feel a greater sense of connection here. Both cities offer numerous good places to eat, however there are more vegetarian restaurants in San Cristobal. One night I ate at Casa del Pan, a vegetarian restaurant two doors down from where I was staying, and was enjoying listening to the piped in jazz music. After one of the songs, a radio announcer came on in English saying that KCSF was on the air in San Francisco and also on the World Wide Web. I almost felt like I was back home in California.

Chiapas is one of the poorest Mexican states, but at least in my short time there it doesn't seem to be as poor as Guatemala. The infrastructure in Mexico appears to be more robust. For example, in Chiapas they have small buses and minibuses for public transportation. In Guatemala, it's almost always old school buses ("chicken buses") or riding in the back of stake trucks or pickups without shells for the workers/campesinos. In Mexico, the municipal dump trucks are mostly fairly new. In Guatemala, the dump trucks are almost all old junkers. The bus terminal in San Cristobal is covered and even offers a metal detector one must walk through before boarding an air-conditioned pullman bus featuring movies for your traveling pleasure. The bus terminals in Guatemala are not covered, and more or less they are simply places where the chicken buses congregate -- usually next to market stalls selling almost any thing and everything. There appeared to be less garbage in Mexico and the sidewalks were wider. The signage was superior, or at least present, in front of churches and tourist places in Chiapas, whereas in Guatemala you usually need a map and/or guide. Of course it should be obvious that Mexico is a much larger country in terms of size, population, industry, etc., but I was still impressed by the differences between the two countries.

After arriving in San Cristobal, I happened upon the economic Hotel Casa Real for 80 pesos ($8) per night with a shared bathroom and a great view of the surrounding city from the rooftop. The next day I went on a paid tour of two local indigenous Mayan villages . We traveled 10 km to San Juan Chamula where our guide Raúl explained where we could and could not take photographs, and also gave us some background history. Most of the villagers are indigenous Tzotzils, so Spanish is their second language also. The people here are fiercely independent. The Mexican police and government officials are not welcome here in Chamula unless agreements have been made in advance with village leaders. Many of the men were wearing black fuzzy woolen tunics whereas other guys were wearing white tunics, and the women wore beautiful blue blouses with colorful braids in their hair. Raúl the guide spoke Tzotzil, besides Spanish and English, so he spoke to many of the villagers for us. The turquoise painted crosses festooned with pine branches and/or flowers are not Christian, but rather represent the sun crossing the sky and intersecting with the Milky Way galaxy -- thus representing the Tzotzil cosmology. Remember that the Mayans were great astronomers and still their calendar system is more accurate than our Western one. They also used the number zero years before other Western cultures including the Romans. After climbing up the hill to get a view of the village, he invited us into the adobe house of a mayor duomo (village leader) where Tzotzil ceremonies are held and posh, a strong fermented corn liquor, is drunk in fairly large quantities.We got a chance to taste some. Inside the structure, dozens of candles were burning in small ceramic representations of oxen and burros. Pine needles were scattered around the floor, and hanging vines inside the room separated us from statues and pictures of saints and idols.

We walked back down to the main plaza toward what ostensibly looked to be an ordinary Catholic church except for the multicolored decorations detailed on the bright white façade. Three men were hanging from rope swings. Apparently they paint the façade every couple of years. Upon entering the multi-colored church, one immediately realizes that this is not a typical Roman Catholic church. Yes, there were incense and music, but there were no pews (benches) except for some sort of small bleachers near the back eastern wall. Upon these "bleachers," an apparently posh drunken Tzotzil elder was swaying back and forth, occasionally yelling something in Tzotzil. Thousands and thousands of different colored tapered lit candles were stuck to the cement floor where the pine needles had been moved away. Crates of soft drinks were capriciously stacked in between some of the sets of candles. Small groups of people were standing around the candles playing accordions, fluids and stringed instruments, and chanting. As people drank Coca-Cola, seven up, Fanta, etc. they passed around bottles of posh with the telltale reed stoppers (yucca plant ?) . There are only windows on the western side. Raúl explained how this Tzotzil church is a representation of the Mayan cosmological system. Dozens and dozens of male saints in wooden boxes with glass doors were aligned on the eastern wall, and female saints in boxes are on the western side along with blinking Christmas lights encircling a picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe. A couple of hundred years ago, Catholic missionaries forced the Tzotzil people to carve wooden saints in an attempt to force them to stop worshiping their Mayan idols. The Tzotzil complied, but inside each of the wooden saints, they hollowed out secret compartments to hold their own Mayan idols. So when they prayed to the "Catholic saints," they were actually praying to their ensconced Mayan gods. The statue of Jesus was not in the front center, but rather towards the eastern wall above the boxes and boxes of eggs in the apse area. I spied a group of women kneeling in front of one of the saints drinking soda. Next to the women was a black plastic bag with a live chicken poking its head out. Supposedly the chicken's neck was later broken/twisted as part of one of their rituals. The visit was very impressionable to say the least.

If you want more information about the Tzotzil church and rituals, you may wish to check out http://www.philipcoppens.com/chamula.html.

I also paid for a three-day tour of the jungle area of Chiapas to enjoy the Mayan ruins and some of the beautiful waterfalls. After seeing some of the present day Mayan rituals, it was easier for me to imagine the populated previously multicolored cities of Palenque, Yaxchilan, and Bonampak. In the jungle heat I perspired enough to completely soak my cotton shirt. Thank goodness for my backpacker water filter/purifier so I could drink lots of fluids without having to buy so many plastic bottles. The one-hour boat trip to the ruins at Yaxchilan was particularlyimpressive, partly due to the fact that most of the steales (?) were still in place and one could still see some of the multicolored painting up close. At Palenque, the temples and pyramids were pretty much intact, but much of the detailed artwork has been relocated to museums. On the second night we stayed in little thatch roofed cabanas, and I filtered my water right out of a jungle stream. I was grateful that this is not the mosquito season. The next day, a very young Lacandon indigenous boy was our guide on a hour and a half hike through the jungle to a small ancient Mayan temple and later to a series of beautiful waterfalls.

Although it costs 50 bucks to get to Mexico through a travel agency, it only cost $10 to get back to the Mexican Guatemalan border, and another approximately $10 to take chicken buses across Guatemala back to Antigua/Ciudad Vieja. Actually before returning to Ciudad Vieja, I spent another two and half days traveling around the western Guatemala. My first stop was Huehuetenango, which is way way in the western part of Guatemala, and way way far from my friends and family. Since writing letters for Amnesty International years ago, I've wanted to visit Huehuetenango and I finally got my chance. In the late afternoon, it looked like one of the dirtiest, ugliest cities I've ever seen. However I did get a nice, inexpensive hotel room with a private bathroom and went out for some pizza. Actually I had tried to find a Guatemalan restaurant that served vegetarian food, but was unsuccessful and too tired to search for very long. Soon after my pizza arrived, a couple of street urchins came into the restaurant begging for money. The pizza I had ordered was larger than expected, so I gave them each a piece. Of course they wouldn't take the them unless I also gave them a couple of little Heinz ketchup packets. In Guatemala it's not an option to eat pizza without salsa dulce / ketchup -- try it sometime, it's surprisingly good. In the morning, I awoke rested and feeling better. Huehuetenango looked a lot better, and I enjoyed wandering around the open-air markets and seeing all the vibrant colors of the fruits, vegetables, and everything else imaginable for sale. I should also mention the number of both men and women wearing the beautiful, colorful indigenous Mayan typical clothing, each design representative of a person's home village. The people certainly weren't dressing in native dress simply to entertain tourists, as I only saw two other gringos while I was there. I then boarded another chicken bus, this time to Quetzaltenago, commonly simply called Xela, Guatemala's second largest city. I only spent one night there also, and most of my time there was spent shopping for Spanish-language educational computer software. I was impressed by Xela, specifically the friendliness of the people, some of the beautiful parks, and the number of indigenous Mayan people wandering around Western-style malls and shopping centers. I hope to return to both Huehuetenango and Xela for a more thorough visit sometime in the future.

In the midst of traveling to these beautiful and fascinating places, I also met some very nice people and had some great conversations, almost all of them totally in Spanish. I would like to remember Oscar, the Sun Java computer programmer from Mexico City who traveled with me on many of the tours. I was glad I could find his glasses in one of the pools at the jungle waterfalls so that he could see well enough to walk out of there. Also I would like to remember: beautiful Mercedes, the young erudite Mexican historian who is also involved in Catholic base communities and liberation theology; the couple of university professors with whom I had the great political discussion about environmentalism in Mexico; Maria who served me delicious eggs with nopalitos (cactus) and told me how hard it is for women in Chiapas to deal with machismo; Mario, the gay hotel clerk, who gave me great directions to some restaurants and stores to get some supplies; Laura, the young woman from Munich Germany who spoke great Spanish; Michael, the young disillusioned Israeli who had to perform military service in order to be eligible to get a job -- he is Jewish but doesn't believe in God; David, the first grade teacher from Tapachula who, I believe mistakingly, thinks that Guatemalans have had more linguistic influence from English speakers; and Danny, the Guatemalan National Police officer with the thick accent, on vacation visiting his family in San Marcos, who was kind enough to share his gum with me. Plus I am grateful to all of the bus and van drivers who gave me directions and got me back to Ciudad Vieja in one piece after navigating some fairly curvy and rough roads.

Now that I'm back home in Guatemala, I'm still try to figure out what I'm going to do after this Central American experience, but I find it a little comical that I'm once again installing software, crawling under computer tables, and writing lesson plans, except this time it's all in Spanish. I have been helping set up the first computer lab (10 Windows XP workstations) at Casa Hogar for the kids from the garbage dumps at Safe Passage. Before this, they only had one computer in the little library. By the way, if you get a chance to see the 38-minute documentary titled "Recycled Life" about the people living in the Guatemala City garbage dump, you learn a little bit more about the organization for which I volunteer, and also you will get to see some of the places I've been in Guatemala City.

On Saturday afternoons, I've been volunteering at a little library in the little town of San Juan del Obispo just outside of Antigua. The library is named in honor of a local poet who, like many writers and intellectuals, was killed by the government during the Guatemalan civil war. His surviving daughter Marjorie is trying to keep the library open with the help of some volunteers. I'm trying to fix the very old Windows 95 and 98 computers. Supposedly someone has paid for Internet access, but the computers are too old to access it reliably. I did buy some Spanish-language educational computer programs in Xela for the kids and am trying to gather a CD-ROM and other parts to make them usable (thanks Dad!). While I'm working on the computers, young people provide games and activities for the 50 or 60 kids who show up on Saturday afternoons. I even got a chance to read a Spanish language story to the kids and discuss some world geography.

I'm grateful that I'm back safely and that I can be of service with some of my skills. I'm taking a break from attending Spanish-language classes in the mornings, and instead am going to study on my own and prep. some Spanish-language computer lessons. My Spanish-language skills continue to improve. Just this morning while listening to the news, I realized I was understanding almost all the Spanish language news from one of the crackly local radio stations.

I hope you are all happy and healthy.
Blessings and peace,
William Straub

Yes, Mayan Rituals inside a 'Catholic Church' in San Juan Chamula. It was very interesting. Lots of boxes of eggs, crates of soda, accordians, pine needles on floor and people drinking liquor/Posh. I saw woman with bag with chicken she was going to sacrifice by breaking its neck. Incredible! I'll write more later, but here is some info. from a link on net.

Check out http://www.philipcoppens.com/chamula.html

''From the outside, the church looks typical. Once inside, that impression changes quickly. There are no pews, there is no altar. Instead, the walls are lined with glass cases, each containing a saint, resting on tables. These saints may seem to be Catholic saints, but really represent Mayan gods. In front are sometimes other tables, on which flowers stand. On the ground, rows of candles are burning, often with a worshipper behind it. In the background plays music, which is apparently a Christmas cassette the locals once received with the new Christmas lighting. Christmas music is not just for a season – it is for all seasons… On the right hand side is the shrine of the Virgin of Guadelupe, illuminated with a type of lighting you would expect on a strip in Las Vegas or Broadway, beckoning people inside. The scene looks otherworldly, though neither hellish nor divine… just very weird.

The floor of the church is normally covered with pine needles, but this is a Monday, when the floor has just had its weekly cleaning. One young man is still removing all the wax from burnt candles from the floor.''

http://www.philipcoppens.com/chamula.html

Travelogue: William in Mexico, San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas

Dear Friends,

I´m doing great. Try to read the letter below in Spanish -- I have lots of stories to tell. Very nice city here in San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas , very friendly, and inexpensive. I´m impressed. Will be visiting ruins in the jungle for next 3 days. Tourist agencies are crazy here, but more stories to tell.

I´m off to eat at another vegetarian restaurant!

Love & hugs,
William

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Hola mi amigo bueno David,

Estoy sano y salvo, pero mi telefono cellular no sirve aqui. Disculpá por no llamarte ayer.
Hay un hotel muy bonito y tranquilo por Q49 a noche. Hoy fui a los pueblos de Chamula y Zinacantan -- vi unas rituales paganas en la "iglesia" en Chamula--muy interesante. Muchos restaurantes vegetarianos aquí -- es un gran placer comer.

Mañana voy a las ruinas de Palenque y a la selva en Bonampak y Yaxchilán, un tour de 3 dias con guia y 2 noches de cabañas. Voy a regresar a San Cristobal para el sábado que viene.

Espero que todo salga bien contigo y la famila Quiñones. Cuidáte y portáte bien vos,

tu hermano,
Guillermo Straub

Travelogue #6 -- Guatemala volunteer work

I have five more weeks of Spanish-language classes, but will be traveling and doing volunteer work over the next few weeks besides studying Spanish on my own.

I will be working as volunteer computer tech. support for http://safepassage.org at their complex for abused children from Guatemala City garbage dump. I still need to fill out the paperwork, but very interesting -- right down the street from where Hermano Pedro used to serve the poor in the 17th century.

Even before this official volunteer job, I've purchased a few planks of wood and have been cutting and sanding wooden block sets for children who don't have toys. Papa Neto has been kind enough to share his carpentry workshop and tools. I'm still looking for non-toxic paint for the wooden blocks.
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About the Program Safe Passage
(“Camino Seguro”)

Program Overview: Hope, Education, Opportunity Safe Passage (“Camino Seguro”) opened its doors in 1999 to provide hope and assistance to the children of the Guatemala City garbage dump. Where others saw a lost cause and lost resources, we saw potential and determination in the eyes of these children. We believe every child should have the opportunity to receive an education and to go as far as they are able in school. Our programs are designed so that each child can gain the skills needed to obtain stable jobs, to be self sufficient and to lead their families out of poverty in a dignified and permanent way.

Formal education is far beyond the reach for many of the children living on the periphery of the Guatemala City garbage dump. They are unable to afford the school uniforms & shoes, enrollment fees, school supplies and books required by the Guatemalan public schools. With financial support from Safe Passage, each child is able to attend a local public school for the half-day term and then come to our center for educational reinforcement, caring and supervision.

At Safe Passage, each child receives assistance with homework and hands-on learning activities designed to reinforce basic primary school concepts through our educational reinforcement program. They also participate in a range of arts, music, sports & recreational activities, English language classes, and computer instruction that provide opportunities to learn valuable life and social skills.

Safe Passage is committed to providing each child with nutritional support, including a daily healthy meal & snack, medical attention from our on-site clinic, vocational training programs, and weekend clubs for girls, boys and mothers.

Additionally, Safe Passage provides services for children 2-3 years old through the early intervention program, adult literacy for our children’s mothers, and residential care for children coming from the most dangerous and unstable living situations.

Safe Passage currently serves more than 550 children ages 2-19 years old. Our staff, consisting of Guatemalan teachers, social workers, and support staff and international volunteers are working to instill within each child a sense of hope and possibility and to provide them with the support, encouragement, and care they need to turn their dreams of an education into a reality.

For more information and pictures of the Guatemala City garbage dump, please visit http://safepassage.org

Love,
William

Guatemala: William's host family photos

Hi,

Some people wanted to see photos of my host family in Ciudad Vieja. We went swimming 2 weekends ago and also went to a shopping mall.

Click here to view them all.

Travelogue #5 -- Guatemalan Volcanoes, Lenten/Easter Activities and a Visit to a Local Coffee Plantation

It's a hot sunny morning and I'm sitting on my balcony outside my bedroom watching white smoke gently float out of Volcano Fuego ("Fire"). It's actually a couple of kilometers from where I live and partially behind the larger Volcano Acatenango. No, I haven't felt any tremors nor heard anything from it, but people say it's definitely more active than usual. I'm now in the habit of checking it every morning to see if anything is seriously spewing from it. I've seen grayish white smoke numerous times and a couple of times columns of blackish smoke with orange red.

Actually the other volcano behind me, Volcano Agua, is more dangerous due to water runoff. A week ago last Tuesday we had torrential rain for a couple of hours in the afternoon/evening and a little town just south of here suffered mudslides, landslides and and flooding. Impoverished people have cut down the trees for firewood for cooking (every afternoon I hear a woman yelling "firewood for sale") and they have also built squatter houses in some of the washouts on the side of the volcano. So when the heavy rains came, the water created a mess across the highway, damaged many people's homes and buildings, and blanketed the local organic macadamia nut farm with boulders and debris. Though this only happened a kilometers south, I didn't even find out about these landslides until a few days later when my family showed me an article in one of the national newspapers. In a way this event isn't completely unexpected. This same Volcano Agua spilled water from its crater in September 1541, enough to overwhelm the then recently founded (now former) capital of Guatemala, Ciudad Vieja, which in turn motivated to citizens to move their capital to Antigua -- which was later destroyed by an earthquake. The fact is is that there is no safe place here on earth.

Religion seems to permeate most aspects of life here. Every Monday night during Lent, the people of Ciudad Vieja walked in little processions, groups of approximately eight to twelve people singing hymns, carrying candles, and stopping in front of different peoples houses. This is the via cruces -- the Stations of the Cross. In advance, many people set out small tables covered with linen on top of which they place one or more candles, a crucifix or religious picture, and perhaps some flowers or greenery. Women in their medium length skirts and men in the groups kneel down on the uneven cobblestones in front of each of these little tables reciting prayers and more or less performing the Roman Catholic Stations of the Cross. My guess is that their knees would be pretty sore by the end of the evening.
I remember three Mondays ago, I walked outside of the house to watch the processions after dinner. I was playing with some of the neighborhood kids (actually grandchildren of Papa Neto) when their mom Angelica came outside to take the children along to participate in the Stations of the Cross. The kids invited me to walk along with them, so I did. After we got to the second house blessing/station, I scanned the crowd and saw another neighbor Don Gabriel smiling at me -- I had shared a few beers with him a few nights before. He invited me not only to watch but to participate, so I did. It brought back memories of going with my parents during Lent to a Catholic church to say the Stations of the Cross, but this of course was different. People would come out of their houses to watch or to accept the house blessings. Children meandered through the groups playing and making me smile, and almost giggle, at their antics. Meanwhile other groups of faithful folks were gathered down the street also doing the same thing. The stars twinkled above in the sky as candles flickered amidst the religious icons and flowers. What I was participating in was very normal here, yet I found it hard to picture such an event happening in Eureka/Arcata or even in the town of Wausau, Wisconsin where I grew up.

If you see my Lenten procession pictures on Kodak Gallery, you can probably appreciate the fact that it takes all night and sometimes longer for a group of people to create one of the marvelous alfombras ("carpets"). I was fortunate enough to be able to work with my Spanish language school, Centro Linguistico La Union, to dye some sawdust and a week later to help create an alfombra from start to finish. Good Friday here is incredible in Guatemala. The tradition here in Guatemala for Good Friday is: no showering, no sex, and no hitting one's children(!). But surprisingly many people do eat red meat on Good Friday, partly so they can have enough energy to walk all day in the processions. I got up before 4 a.m. to take the bus into Antigua so I could start photographing the processions and alfombras. Out of of the 400 plus pictures I took, I selected what I thought were the best to share. On Easter Morning I was also honored to not only walk in one of the processions in Ciudad Vieja, but was invited to help carry one of the andas ("floats") for one block. Later I was invited to a neighbor's house for breakfast. There were no colored Easter eggs, but I did eat plenty of fried eggs with salsa, black beans, freshly made tortillas, mangoes, and instant coffee. The few middle-class and upper-class Guatemalans mostly enjoy freeze-dried instant coffee made from Guatemalan coffee beans. It's ironic that poor Guatemalans have to grind their own beans, but the middle class/rich enjoy Nescafé.

Now that the rains have started, albeit early, the coffee picking season is pretty much over. Last week I went on a bicycle trip with fifteen or so other Spanish-language students from our school to a local coffee plantation which also has a small processing operation. We paid approximately $4 each to rent the school's bicycles and to have a guided tour. There are two main types of coffee grown in the world; Guatemala is known for its shade grown beans. However coffee is not native to the Americas but rather comes from Africa. Coffee was originally grown in Ethiopia where the story is that a priest asked the local shepherds how they stayed awake all night. Supposedly the shepherds learned about coffee from their goats that stayed awake after eating a certain kind seed/bean. The shepherds figured out how to shell the bean and roast in grind it to create a black drink. The priest was so intrigued that he started serving this black drink to his congregation to help them stay awake during his homilies/sermons. As I stated earlier, religion seems to permeate everything here.

The assistant director of the school asked me to be the English translator for our proximately 17-year-old tour guide at the coffee plantation. I was honored, but therefore didn't get to take many pictures. Our young tour guide explained how the coffee is picked by hand, weighed, washed, then de-hulled. Then it is dried, heated, and the inner shell opened, before sorting it. Any beans with blemishes (mold) or not wholly intact beans are removed as part of the final process. Are these beans simply discarded? Of course not; not much is wasted here in Guatemala, at least as far as material things go. These blemished beans are used locally here in Guatemala. All the rest are for export, mostly to North America or to Europe. And as I stated before, in Guatemala the rich get the processed instant coffee, and the poor get the beans, but both rich and poor are treated to the same inferior beans.

Earlier I said, "picked by hand." Please understand what this means. During harvest season, December to April, Dad will probably get up at 3:30 a.m. to start working by 4:00 in the morning. Mom and perhaps five to seven kids will start helping pick coffee beans at 6:00 a.m. No, there is no school for those kids even though the government says education is mandatory. Besides, families of plantation workers can't afford the necessary uniforms, pencils, books, etc. even though the government claims that education here is "free." The fact is is that the family must pick at least 100 pounds of red coffee beans before 7 p.m. or they will not be paid anything. How much are they paid for all those hours of work? 30 quetzales, approximately $4 -- the same we each paid to use the bikes and to tour the plantation. Please understand that this was one of the better plantations; they had bathrooms, running water, etc. And this is not $4 per person, this is for the entire family. Just enough to buy tortillas, salt, and hopefully some black beans each day. Of course, if they accidentally pick any green coffee beans instead of the red ones, their "salary" is reduced. I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty, but if at all possible, please pay extra for your coffee and purchase "fair trade" coffee. The extra money you will pay can go a long way here (and in other coffee producing countries) so that the workers can be paid a more just wage so perhaps the kids can eat better, wear some better clothes, and perhaps attend school. Children in Guatemala often start drinking coffee when they are six months old or when they are weaned. We were told by the guide that caffeine does not stunt the growth of children. This is one reason why farm workers down here have so many children, because if they all work hard enough, perhaps they could pick 200 pounds of coffee in a day. Realize that if they pick 199 pounds, they are only paid for 100 pounds. By the way, how much does an espresso cost in Starbucks nowadays? The coffee plantation workers are normally only paid a very small fraction of what we North Americans usually pay for coffee. Remember: BUY FAIR TRADE.

Okay, I'll get off my soapbox and start working on my homework again. Monday through Friday I have Spanish-language class from eight till noon, and I've had usually 4, and sometimes 6 hours of Spanish reading, writing, and grammar homework. It hasn't left me a whole lot of time to get in trouble, but I have started doing some volunteer work which I'll tell you about later. Thank you to all the people who have written kind and generous words of encouragement regarding these travelogues. They usually take me approximately five plus hours to write as I am not the world's fastest writer.

Other news: I finally found a place to buy tofu. My host family finally changed the calendar from January to April 2007 in the dining room. Mom and Dad are coming 6 June and staying until 24 June, nine days of which we will be in El Salvador.
By the way, if you no longer want to receive these travelogues, please let me know. I try to get on the Internet at least twice a week, although it is slow, I pay by the quarter hour, and the computers are not in the best shape regarding viruses and such.

Blessings and peace from America, Central America that is,
William Straub

Travelogue #4 -- More Guatemalan Travels: the Beach, Caves, Comestibles and My New Adopted Family

It's Saturday morning, and I just got back from a 3.5 mile run on this beautiful sunny day. After showering and eating breakfast of mango, and granola and corn flakes with skim milk from a box, I'm sitting in my room using Dragon NaturallySpeaking to type this travelogue. I finished two weeks of Spanish-language classes and have quite a bit of Spanish homework to do before the end of this weekend.

Two weekends ago I was lucky enough to go to with a group of ten female gringa students on a school sponsored trip up north. After traveling through the outskirts of the capital, we traveled through various climates within a couple of hours: semiarid fields, desert strewn with cacti, pine forests on steep hills, and later through semi-tropical rain forest. We were heading to the city of Copan and then beyond and to tour some caves and beautiful waterfalls and pools where the Rio Cahabón flows through a 300 meter tunnel before reappearing in a series of waterfalls at the national park called "Semuc Champey." I'll send you a link to my photos, but I didn't take photos during the best part of the trip when I traveled with two young women and a native indigenous K'ekchi guide swimming and wading 2 kilometers into a cave holding candles in our hands. It was an incredible experience climbing ropes and slippery ladders to traverse the flowing river in the cave and to see the natural stalagmites and mineral deposit formations. Yes, there is life after age 40!

Last Sunday I was invited to go to the beach at Puerto San José with the father of the family: Papa Neto and some of his friends and workers. We left early in the morning and drove down the highway past the three cloud shrouded volcanoes near where I live. I had never been south except for running a few kilometers. Soon vistas of flat land stretching towards the ocean could be seen, and off in the distance Pacaya, a volcano south of Guatemala City. It was amazing to see how I really lived in the hilly Altiplano and we were heading into the tropical flatlands filled with sugar cane. The temperature rose noticeably as we dropped down from the Altiplano. Double length trailers brimming full with sugar cane were everywhere, and the air was thick with the smell of burning cane. After harvest, I suppose they have to burn the cane fields before they can replant. We passed a number of small towns and some amusement parks with waterslides. Outside of one park, a couple guys were walking with an elephant. Yes, an actual full-size elephant, and I joked with Papa Neto that I appreciated him driving me all the way to Africa. Apparently one of the tourist traps has an "African safari zoo" with tigers and everything.
Puerto San José is a small sandy ocean side town where local Guatemalans go. I didn't see any other gringos all day -- they go to other beaches. Unfortunately in typical Guatemalan style, they don't have garbage collection so there is an incredible amount of litter, but that was easy for me to overlook by instead being grateful for all the beautiful palm trees, smiling people, coconut and fruit stands, and multicolored stores and restaurants. We parked at one of the many humble (North Americans would probably use the word "ramshackle") hotels, "Viña del Mar." Breakfast consisted of a picnic lunch of toasted French bread with black beans smeared in between, some cheese, and an orange that the daughter Evelyn had packed earlier in the morning.

I will never forget sitting on the beach, while Indigenous Mayan women were wading in the water and simply enjoying themselves. They were fully dressed in their beautiful huipiles (blouses) and full length skirts which are supposedly six meters long when unwrapped. Their cotton clothes must have weighed a ton after being soaked with salt water. Sometimes Indigenous Mayan women wear their beautiful clothing as part of their jobs to "entertain" tourists. As I stated earlier, other than myself, I didn't see another gringo all day. These women certainly weren't doing anything except laughing smiling and enjoying themselves on the black sand beaches.

We sat in the shade watching kids and teenagers play around in the hotel swimming pool, while vendors try to sell us bootleg music CDs, shell jewelry, and other artesania. After wading in the water (beware the strong undercurrents further offshore) and enjoying a few "Gallos" (Guatemalan beers) during the morning, Papa Neto invited me to eat lunch: Guatemalan fish stew, which consisted of a 7-inch fish (head and all), one and a half palm sized complete crabs, and eight jumbo shrimp with a slightly spicy vegetables broth. Later when I told Evelyn (daughter) about it, she thought it was funny that in the U.S. we only serve shrimp with the heads removed. I was a little concerned about how my stomach would react, but my friend David later reminded me that Papa Neto knows where it's safe to eat, even for vegetarian gringos.

The fact is that I have been befriended by Papa Neto -- what an honor. And while drinking cheap Guatemalan booze the other evening, he told me about his wife dying 1-1/2 years ago. Although Papa Neto chases the cats out of the small dining room and harasses the noisy parrot on a regular basis, he really does have a heart of gold. After Holy Week, one of the weekends he has invited me to travel with him to Totonicpan in the Western Guatemala Highlands to deliver some coffins (empty of course) and procure some lumber to make another dozen or so for the upcoming week. Papa Neto (actually his name is Ernesto) and I are bachelors together. The first week I was here he took me walking around to the stores at night to try to get access to a phone that would take one of my North American calling cards, but to no avail. So instead I bought a Guatemalan calling card, and he allowed me to use his cell phone to call Mom and Dad. In the evening, he'll say "let's go down to the corner" or "let's head to the store." The fact is that after dark, it's not the safest for a gringo to be wandering around the town alone, so I appreciate his company, besides his great sense of humor. The other day he even showed me his personal small living room and bedroom with a small LCD TV that helps him fall asleep. Papa Neto is a fairly successful businessman/carpenter who employs a group of approximately six to eight guys who helped him build beautiful caskets. Some of the caskets look like they are metal or bronze. I consider him to be an artist who in the tradition of European guilds has a group of apprentices under him. In his kindness, Papa Neto has even hired Julio, a young man who is developmentally delayed, to help work in his workshop.

I feel the content, safe, and accepted here within this family. One daughter lives a block and a half away with her husband and eight-year-old daughter. One son who works for a local bank lives with his wife and 18 month old son across the street, another son who works in the coffin workshop, lives right next door with his wife and two children. Papa Neto's youngest daughter Evelyn still lives at home. The fiancée of my friend David, pretty Evelyn is in her early twenties, and prepares most of my meals herself. I'm actually not sure why she does it, because my host family is well off enough to employ an indigenous Mayan maid, Clara, but I think that Evelyn actually enjoys making salads and other vegetarian fare for me. However, she does think it's totally unreasonable to put black beans in Tupperware for me to take to school for lunch. She is afraid that the other students/staff will see me eating beans and tortillas for lunch and incorrectly think that my host family isn't feeding me well. I tried to explain to her that I've been a vegetarian for years, and I really enjoy beans. She explained to me that Guatemalans eat beans sometimes for breakfast, and sometimes for dinner, but not for lunch, the big meal of the day. Black beans for lunch are simply “fodder” for our laughter filled conversations. By the way, Evelyn is one of my better Spanish-language "teachers," because she laughs and corrects me almost every time I misspeak.

So you may be wondering, what have I been eating? Tortillas and different types of non whole-grain bread are always available. Beside cereal and milk or yogurt for breakfast, sometimes I get pancakes made with a little bit of powdered macadamia nuts. Sometimes I get black beans with scrambled eggs, or fried sweet plantains. The coffee is local Guatemalan Antiguan, but I'm told that the best handpick Guatemalan coffee beans are exported to the United States (Starbucks is a major importer of Guatemalan Antiguan beans). Juice is usually "fruit nectar" juice with lots of Guatemalan sugar and FDC red and yellow dye. For lunch it depends upon whether I take a lunch to school or come back on the bus to eat with the family. Lunch at school is often veggies with cilantro, pasta with cheese, tortillas and apple, and a can of juice. If I return home, I'll probably be served a large bowl of rice vegetable soup (minus the chicken), with chunks of vegetables on the side: corn on the cob, a boiled potato, and two local starchy vegetables: guicoy and güisquil, fresh handmade tortillas from the local corner store, and to drink either horchada (blended rice, water, sugar, and cinnamon) or un liquado (blended papaya, mango, watermelon, etc). Dinner is a smaller meal than lunch and is usually served between 7:30 - 8:30 p.m. I might eat sweet peppers or green beans dipped in egg batter (sort of like chile rellenos but without the spiciness), fried plantains smothered in honey type sauce, or black beans and rice with tortillas and stir fried vegetables, tostadas with guacamole, or vegetarian chow mien from a local "restaurant." Saturday evenings we always have tamales. But these are different from Mexican tamales, they are corn mush wrapped in banana leaves instead of corn. I of course, get the ones without meat. Thanks to Evelyn, my digestive system has been in great shape except for one day when I had a cold and ate guacamole tostada and atole (corn mush, cinnamon, and chile drink) from a street vendor near school and later regretted it.

The calendar on the wall in the dining room still says January 2007 (sometimes it seems as if time stands still here). I sit at the dinner table wonder why so many rooms including this dining room are painted aquamarine green -- is it because people miss living where the forests have been cut down? Perhaps Papa Neto will turn on a black-and-white TV in the dining room during dinner to watch one of the Mexican telenovelas (soap operas) or to watch a fútbol (soccer) game. Even still, there is lots of laughter and discussion of what happened during the day. My comings and goings are often topics of great interest to the other family members: What funny thing happened to Guillermo after classes today in the central park? What the heck is "tofu" and why is that funny gringo unsuccessfully searching for it around Antigua? Yes, the gringo wants more black beans!, etc. It's all very enjoyable. Approximately a week ago I finally started being able to understand enough Guatemalan slang and shortened Spanish phrases to understand most of the mealtime conversation even when it doesn't pertain to me. Halfway through dinner, my friend David walks in after a very long day's work delivering crates of beer, purified water, and soft drinks for a local bottling company. He kisses and teases Evelyn and relates some funny story about his job that starts at approximately 6:30 a.m. and often doesn't finish until 7:30 p.m. In the almost 4 weeks that I've been here, David hasn't been able to get a day off from work even on the weekends. Supposedly after Holy Week he can get a Sunday off. Not only does he help support his aging mom in a nearby town with whom he lives, but he also financially helps his fiancée (they're not married yet because weddings cost a lot here compared to people's salaries).

I have a number of other friends here and many more stories to tell in future travelogues. But now, I have more Spanish words to memorize, and I'm trying to get through the second chapter of the renowned Guatemalan Miguel Angel Asturias’ novel "Hombres de Maiz." I hope you are all well and also enjoying time with your friends and family, whether they are "adopted family" or blood relatives. Blessings and peace.
William (Guillermo) Straub

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