Experience: that most brutal of teachers.

So I´ve got a little less than a week left here in Guatemala and I´d have to say, as has been usual here, I´m a mix of emotions. Over the past week or so, I´ve fielded a lot of questions: Are you ready to leave?; Did you enjoy your time here?; Do you want to go home?; Will you miss Guatemala?; Are you coming back?; etc.

None of those is an easily answered question. Well, I´m ready to leave, but I think I could stay a little while longer as well. Yeah, I enjoyed my time here most of the time, and I´m certainly glad I came, but there were times that I wished I was home. I think that the homesickness I´ve had is not so much for America or my actual home, it´s for friends and family and the ability to express myself completely. Like I said in the last post, I kinda want the two worlds to meet.

As I look back on this experience as it relates to others I´ve had, I´m struck by common themes. I think every time we have a significant change in environment: a move, progressing from high school to college, summer experiences, time abroad, etc., there are things that are good, things that aren´t, things that are insignificant, things that fill us with joy, and things that hurt but help us grow.

When our family moved from Virginia to North Carolina, I didn´t want to move: though young and for the most part passive to my environment, I knew that I was comfortable and also knew that a move meant a removal from friends and extended family. Sure, I adjusted, but the move wasn´t fun. However, as I look back at the last nine years (I´m 20 now... not a significant birthday legally but I´m now out of my teens. Weird.) and how God has worked in me through friends, his church, and events in North Carolina, I can´t help but be thankful. Camp had some of the same characteristics: didn´t know many people when I jumped into it, didn´t really know what to expect, had a time filled with both challenges and joys, and ended up growing immensely and making fantastic friends.

And so that brings me here. Of all the experiences I´ve ever had, this was the furthest from my comfort zone and the most difficult. Very rarely was it easy, but it was good, and good things came of it. The people I´ve met are fantastic. That´s probably the main reason I´m hoping to make it back here someday, especially with friends or family. I´d love people from home to meet people like Otoniel, Luis, Samuel, and all the others who have welcomed me here. I´ve got to admit, however, that growth isn´t as apparent as I had hoped. I believe it´s there, and some of the deeper previous posts will point to the main areas of growth that I´ve experienced. As I´ve already said on this blog, though, I believe community is our place of calling, and I think that the potential growth that´s built up here will be kinetically realized when I´m back in a scenario in which I can truly express, recieve, and share in life and struggles with those around me. I´m not sure how it will manifest itself in my case, but I think that our collected experiences build our wisdom and ability to relate and love in ways specific to the individuals we encounter.

As time has gone on, I think I´ve been able to see more and more ways that God has been working through me (as opposed to my frustration just a few weeks into the trip). Kids have truly learned some English, I´ve been able to help with some office work, and I think some of the adults have polished their English, as well, through Saturday classes and also just chatting. So, though still not quite as useful as I would´ve liked, I think God worked through me here. Sidenote: perhaps that´s another thing I´ve been taught... it´s not always obvious, but God is working through us. And we´re not always called to do huge things or see great results. God works through broken people in all circumstances to accomplish his will.

However, I can´t believe that God´s work through this trip stops when I get on the plane Wednesday.

My friend´s away message right now is a CS Lewis quote: ¨Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.¨ Indeed, God works through our experiences to break our hearts and reform us into his image. Sometimes his hand is obscured, and it´s often difficult to rest in the situation he´s put us, but he promises that through our experiences and struggles he will engender endurance and faith in us. I think that quote is a good summary of my experience here: it´s at times been brutal (though brutal´s a rather strong word... it´s been a good experience) but I think I´ve learned a good deal and will continue to increase in wisdom as I reflect on my time here. And that´s why I can´t believe that God´s work through my time in Guatemala stops here.

I vaguely remember a conversation with my brother a few years back after a church service about a similar issue. The pastor in his message said that God has plans for us that have nothing to do with our past. Sounds good, but the bro (if you haven´t been reading his blog, I highly recommend it: linked in the top left of this page) pointed out that God´s plans for us actually have everything to do with where we´ve been: that´s why he took us there in the first place. We are crucified with Christ and have new life in him, but we still live life in a broken world with desires of the flesh. These longings of our heart don´t magically go away, and we´re not automatically good at loving people. Some of those weeds have deep roots. God uses real circumstances to cleanse us and show us how to love. So praise Him for difficulty, for exams, for loneliness, for Guatemala, for exhaustion, for separation, and for desperation. In our darkest hours he shows his love and draws us to himself.

Màs Fotos Nuevos

Two new albums up on the site that is, once again, linked below. One is sort of daily stuff, and the other is the promised album of Tikal photos.

http://picasaweb.google.com/d2006shank

-Daniel

Dios de la hueva

This past weekend, I had the fantastic opportunity to go to the Mayan ruins of Tikal in the state of Peten. Tikal, in its day, was perhaps the most important city in the Mayan world, meaning that it was huge and they built quite an impressive city structure of plazas, living areas, and of course the famous, massive temples. It was pretty fabtastic.

We left Friday morning for a mission near Rio Dulce, and got to our destination about 1 o`clock or so. We went swimming in el Lago de Izabal (lake Izabal) for the afternoon, went to the church in the village to eat dinner (hen soup (mine had the liver, I think) with roasted hen and tortillas) and then we went to sleep. The morning was like all the missions: we fed breakfast (cereal, bread, eggs, and more of those nasty vienna sausageish things), some gave Bible classes, some played with the kids, and me and Raul gave a class on health. We showed a video with a song, and the song was stuck in my head the rest of the day. Para crecer, debemos comer... poco de todo y masticar bien. In order to grow up, we should eat a little of everything and chew well. Musical and lyrical genius.

Then some of the group returned to the city and Santa, Jaime, Marisol and I went to Tikal, which is quite a drive. If you look at a map of Guatemala, there`s a big part that sticks out the top sort of stuck between Mexico and Belize... near the top of that is Tikal. Guatemala City is in the South Central part of the counrty, and Rio Dulce is to the East of the city where the big lake narrows before making the final journey into the sea. Quite a bit of driving this weekend.

Anyway, we got to Flores, Peten, and walked around a little bit and took a boat ride to a little zoo there, then we headed on to Tikal. We camped Saturday night in the park and then Sunday woke up early to head into the ruins. We walked around and enjoyed the ruins for about 5 hours, then rested a bit before beginning the LONG journey back home. I won`t tell you much about the actual ruins, since words couldn`t really explain it. I`ll put up pictures in the next few days, and those should suffice as an explanation.

As to the name of this post... ¨Dios de la hueva¨ means something like God of the slackers. When you have ¨hueva¨ it means you`re a little lazy and sort of sleepy all the time, kinda like a sloth I guess. Anyway, at times I was such on this trip. Riding in the car for hours on end and getting minimal amounts of sleep does that to you. But I think most of the time, when my mood was being mistaken for ¨hueva¨ it`s because my thoughts were elsewhere. My friends who are abroad right now have all said sort of similar things: there`s an odd mix between loving the place where you are and yearning for what you miss about home. I got an e-mail from a friend the other day (she`s studying abroad in Argentina this semester) that said she went camping in one of the most beautiful spots she`s ever been and the whole time was thinking about how much she thought her Dad would enjoy it. That was my experience in Tikal. I was amazed at the work of the Mayans, that their huge structures that have lasted all these years (the site was populated a couple hundred years BC then rose to its greatest glory around 500 AD or so), amazed at the beauty of the jungle surrounding the ruins, enjoying myself completely climbing these ancient and mystical structures, yet the whole time I was thinking, ¨oh, Salem would really enjoy this,¨ or ¨Brent would think this is sweet,¨ or ¨I`d love to come here for family vacation sometime.¨ It`s an odd mix of gratefulness for where you are and yearning for home. It`s like I want the world to fold over so the two places can run together.

So now, once again, it`s back to the joy of teaching here in the city. Every day I enjoy the teaching more and more... as the kids get to know me better, as I get better at communicating with them, it gets more fun. It`s fantastic when the kids tell me they don`t want me to go or they`re glad I`m here to teach English. Makes my day.

Watch for new pictures in the next few days.

Daniel

Did you know... ?

It's 2 in the morning here and I can't sleep... not sure why. So after tossing and turning for a few hours, I decided to distract myself and hopefully tire out in the process.

One of the many great things about Gautemala is that there's never a lack of fantastic fresh fruit. Pineapple, papaya (which I don't really like, actually), melon, banana, and the ubiquitous mango, just to name a few of the most common.

Three or four times since I've been here, I've woken up in the morning with a random case of severe chapped lips. Hang with me, here... this story will come back around. It's an odd sort of feeling that won't go away, isn't helped by chap stick, lasts for about 5 days, and is accompanied by a sort of itchy irritation. Now, the first time I wasn't too worried... it was odd, but not too weird to cause concern. Then when it happened again a week or two later, I got rather scared and started to think about what in tarnation might be wrong with me. As I began to search my memory for any patterns that could have caused this phenomenon on both occasions, among many things that popped into my head was the fact that I had eaten mangos a day or two before each outbreak of the unknown, undiagnosed disruption of normal lip sentiment. Another week or two later, I ate mangos a third time (cautiously and cleanly), then had a very mild outbreak of the same symtoms. Then Saturday, on the way back from Monte Rico, we encountered a Mango tree on the side of the road bursting with ripened orbs of flavor. Though I had recognized a subtle pattern, I was ever unsure of my hypothesis's validity and, wanting to put out of my mind the sneaking suspicion of a more serious medical condition, I decided to put my body on the line. I ate three of those delicious suckers, and I ate 'em like a monkey. Biting a small hole in the top of the mango, I worked my way down, peeling the skin with my teeth while basking in the glory of what, to me, is Guatemala's finest cuisine. So after three mangos, I was sufficiently full and overly doused in mango nectar. I was satisfied that my experiment was properly initiated as to produce difinitive results, but I was wary of what was to come (if I don't get chapped lips, I was wrong, and if I get chapped lips, well, I'm stupid for eating mangos like a monkey when I more than suspect it causes severe chapped lips).

Sure enough, I woke up Sunday morning with an annoyingly painful set of lips and a fully developed sense of pseudo-scientific accomplishment. At the computer on Monday I decided to probe that omniscient brainchild of Al Gore to determine once and for all if my hypothesis and conclusion to this grand experiment had any merit whatsoever. Sure enough, my conclusion was soon confimed. After but a quick google search for "Mango skin allergy," I encountered myriad unscientific personal experiences claiming similar (and often worse) symtoms resulting from identical actions. After a little more searching, I discovered that Mangos, oddly enough, come from the sumac family, the same one that includes poison ivy, oak, and, of course, sumac. Though the skin of a mango contains relatively small doses of the poison urushiol (the same contained in the other 3 aforementioned plants), for those already sensitive to the poison and prone to urushiol-induced contact dermatitis (as it's scientifically known), contact with mango skin can cause mild to severe reactions, depending on your level of sensitivity. Also, if ingested, the skin (which also has "considerable potential as an antioxidant") can cause further irritation in the esophagus and digestive tract.

Never fear, however: only the skin of the fruit contains this lip-attacking culprit, and with careful eating and proper post-consumption washing, I should be able to avoid such discomfort in the future, while still being able to enjoy one of my new favorite snacks. So for those of you who DIDN'T know that mangos can make you itch, you're now advised to take caution. Peeling is a good idea if you suspect sensitivity, wearing gloves also not a bad idea if your allergy is severe. For those of you who've never had problems, go to town. I haven't met another person here who encounters such inconvenience upon consuming mangos.

And there's one perfectly good thing to come of all this: I've always answered the question "do you have any allergies" with a boring negative, but now I can proudly and resoundingly claim, "Yes: mango skin."

In other news, I went to the National Palace today and poked around a bit. Quite a lovely place. Friday I'm headed to Rio Dulce for another "mission" with church members, and then Saturday when we're done we're heading to the Mayan ruins of Tikal, where we'll camp Saturday night inside the park and explore the ruins on Sunday, heading back Sunday night and planning on a return around 1 or 2 Monday morning. Expect pictures. And if you haven't seen the pictures of Volcan Pacaya yet, I highly recommend you go take a look. Link's still hangin out down below.

Now it's three, and I'm waking up at 6. Oh boy.

G'night.

Choices

I am, in fact still alive. Sorry that it´s been so long since I´ve written an entry. It seems every time I have free time I´m without computer and every time I have a computer I´ve got work to do. But here I am writing, finally.

The good (or bad, depending on what you prefer) news is that there´s little to report as far as what has actually happened here, so you´ll be hearing mostly about my thoughts and some of my recent feelings. It hasn´t been slow, but it´s been steady. I´m back working at the church during the days, teaching English and working on the other stuff they need done. Then at night I chill at my host family´s house (now Samuel´s family... moved here from Claudio´s a week ago). Half of the nights we go out or go to small groups... the other half of the nights we just stay home. Went on another one of their mission trips this weekend, to Monte Rico again. A good time, but like always tiring. Rested up today and ready to start another full week...

So now to what´s really been on my mind...If you´ve talked to me in the past couple weeks, you probably know that I was thinking of coming home a couple weeks earlier than the planned April 30 return. This was for a number of reasons, many of which were hashed out a few posts ago. After much prayer and some mom and friend coucil, I decided to stay. At first I was unsure of the decision, and there are still those times when I´d rather be home, but I´m now glad I decided to stay. I think if I had only a week and a half left here I´d be disappointed. Anyway, the decision-making process made me delve a little deeper into what I miss most about the United States. Of course, comfort, friends, famliy, English, and such things came to mind, but after a little more thinking and a little more digging, I realized that something I REALLY miss is the freedom of choice. And then I got to thinking about whether that was a healthy longing or not. Here we go...

Some things, things like friends and family, are fine to miss... even good to miss. This trip has confirmed and cemented my belief that we were created to live in community. Some might herald the pursuit of the likes of Christopher McCandless to ¨find themselves¨ on a solo adventure in the wilderness. To me, especially now, this seems selfish (if we believe we´re called to be good stewards of not only our money but also our time) and unfulfilling. We are called to support each other and (this one´s often overlooked or vehemently avoided) to be vulnerable with one another about our struggles, sins, worries, and of course our bountiful blessings as well. That´s one of the things I love most about working at camp in the summers: you can´t survive without both supporting and being vulnerable with your campers and fellow counselors (another thing I`ve struggled with is a longing to be at camp, something a few of my readers will understand).

I don´t think it´s good to miss things like hot showers and dressers where I can put my clothes, but I don´t think it´s necessarily bad either. A hot shower is one of those comforts that I believe with all my heart is worth the cost. I´ve had other longings, though, that I think might be better to live without. For example, I´ve had an odd longing to play golf (something that I can´t figure out... I don´t really play much golf normally)... such longings that are pure luxury and leisure are maybe better left behind.

So there´s some good and some bad in what I´ve missed during my time abroad, but what about that longing that was hidden beneath, the namesake of this post? Well, the subject of choice strangely reminded me of my Civics and World History teacher from 9th and 10th grade, the highly esteemed Mrs. Strumwasser. I don´t remember much from her classes, mostly because the majority of what she spoke about dealt with her kids, her clothes, her car, and New York (and you´re right in thinking that none of those things deal remotely with the subjects of Civics or World History). However, I do remember her definition of wealth: the ability to make choices.

We come from a wealthy society. We can decide a lot of things that a lot of the world doesn´t have the opportunity to decide: Will I take this job or that one?; Will I go to this school or that one?; Will I go to the movies tonight or stay home?; TGI Fridays or Applebee´s? (a decision, oddly enough, that can be made here by the city´s wealthier inhabitants); what will I eat at TGIF/Applebee´s? (yesterday for lunch I had Caldo de Pata. It´s a soup made with the meat of cows´ hooves. Interesting, to say the least); boxers or briefs? I think I´ve made my point. Now, as is usually true in these discussions, not all of these choices are true for all Americans, and not all citizens of third world countries are without such choices. However, as a general observation, our freedom of choice - our wealth (as ¨Strum¨ would say) - is much greater in America than the majority of countries in this world.

Now, such freedom of choice in itself isn´t a bad thing. It´s not the money itself (which gives us much of our freedom of choice in the consumption of our material goods, so here I hope the reference serves the same function), but the lust for money that is the root of all evil. In my case, it´s not the choice itself but the severe longing for the choices I lack that is my problem. When my longing for choice prevents me from being content in the circumstance into which God has led me, therein lies the issue of the heart that God seeks to dig out and destroy. It´s by weeding out longings such as these that he sanctifies us, that he fulfills his promise to give us hearts of flesh in place of our hearts of stone.

Christ seeks to replace our love of choice for a different kind of freedom - the freedom from slavery to sin, which is provided by his blood: ¨It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery¨ (Gal 5:1). This is a verse quoted often in my experience, and it`s great for inspiration and maybe even a little cheap support of our political system, but what does it mean? Paul here, it seems to me, is writing against a culture of legalism, in which his recipients sought to earn their salvation by continuing to follow a lifestyle of empty rules and traditions, depending on circumcision to cleanse themselves. And Paul cries, you fools!: ¨You who are trying to be justified by law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace¨ (5:4). We were freed from the power of sin and now, being led by the Spirit, we don`t have to depend on circumcision or the following of the Levitical law to save us. Christ has set us free, given us the riches that come from his sacrifice. And here we find our call to righteousness which our freedom in Christ gives: ¨You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: "Love your neighbor as yourself"´ (5:13-14). I implore you to check out this whole chapter for yourselves... good stuff. Romans chapter six also deals deeply with our freedom in Christ. Both fantastic, and of course better spoken than my commentary on them could ever be.

So where does this leave me? I think I ended up a good bit away from the beginning, talking about missing the choices of a wealthy, independent lifestyle. But that`s the point, really. I didn`t plan this post, but I don`t think it`s coincidental that I started frustrated and missing some of the choices I now lack and then ended up at the freedom provided in Christ and the call to use that freedom to love others. So that`s where I`m left, then, trying to figure out what it means to forget about the choices I lack and enjoy the freedom Christ has given and share this continual freedom and grace with those around me.

Thankfully, this is a task I don`t have to pursue alone. Of course, Christ is my main ally in this, and the only way it`s possible, but here we come back around to my belief that we`re created for and called to community. That`s another thing I wanted to share (and now the length of this post has gotten severely out of hand): I wanted to tell you guys how thankful I am for all of you who have been praying for me these past months. I`ve been shocked by the mountains of people who have told me they`ve been reading my blog, thinking about me, and most importantly praying for me. It`s truly humbling to go to another country to minister at a church and then be ministered to by folks back at home. So thanks for keeping in touch, advising me, taking time to pray for me, and doing things like paying 17 dollars to send me a pie mix (yes, one of my fantastic amigas did such a thing... only a camp friend would do such a thing). But thanks, all of you, and I look forward to catching up with you all when I get back and recounting my adventures to you face to face.

All the best, once again, from Guatemala.