Day 5

Student Reflections by Ginny Adamson, Austin Cooke, and Krissy Colvin

Ginny:
Well, hello everyone. Buenas noches from Guatemala! Ginny (A, not T-T) here. At the end of the week, there are so many things that we have experienced and that have been on my mind. Trying to decide what to write about, I feel like I'm in one of the fabric shops here- I have no idea which one to choose.

Every time I try to write down my deep, personal reflections, they seem much more shallow. Entonces, I will stick to a description of an event that had a profound effect on me- and all the rest of us.

This morning, we had the privilege of visiting Kaminaljuyu, an important site for the Mayans. Although part of the site was destroyed with the urbanization of the surrounding area, some of the most important parts were preserved. Some of these, like The Acropolis, were excavated, and we were able to see some of the results from that research.

However, another key aspect of the park is very much alive. The park welcomes people of all religions, as this site is sacred to many. And it is easy to see why. Surrounded by trees, rolling green hills, and the mounds of the important sites, this park becomes an oasis from our busy world.

This idea of separation becomes very apparent in the Mayan worship ceremony we witnessed. This ceremony had rituals completely distinct from, and just as unique as, our own Sunday morning ceremonies. To begin, a setup of the altar: there is a large circle, with a small circular hearth in the middle. This hearth has four more around it, corresponding with the cardinal directions. In order to call down the spirits of the Sun, Air, Wind, and Ancestors, they burn different offerings. The ones we saw started with sugar- they would pour sugar onto the hearth in specific patterns. After this, they would add balls made of pine resin, and different types of wood and herbs. These elaborate, organized piles were burned and prayed over, with the goal of communing with the different Spirits, in order to give thanks and worship.

The main thing that struck me during the part of the ceremony we witnessed was the way one participant prepared. First, he took his wallet and phone, things of the outside world, and put them down. He then wrapped a bandanna around his head, and a special belt around his waist. Then, he grabbed a cigar at least an inch and a half in diameter, about six or seven inches in length, and lit it. Some others already had them- there was a group of people using this same altar, and they all seemed to have different parts to play in the ceremony. We had to leave before this man could start burning his offering, but I could have stayed and watched all day.

The most important reminder I took from that visit is that all beliefs are valuable. Seeing how Christian and Mayan people use the same sacred place in different ways really inspired me. If we can just realize that the sameness of our beliefs outweighs the differences in our ceremonies, perhaps one day we can value all religions and beliefs equally.

This is only one of the many thoughts that I'll be carrying home with me. All I can say to Guatemala in return is "hasta luego", because I will most certainly be back.

With Love,

Ginny Adamson


In writing this, I want to begin with a simple metaphor that I feel describes our situation adequately. A lot of the issues that we have been taught about this week are things that we already knew about. Spanish takeovers, US intervention, we have heard it many times. But now they're so much more real to us. Up until this point, it is like we have been hearing yelling through thin walls. We are aware of its presence, but it is not anything that has seemed our business up until now. Being in Guatemala has changed that, and I will explain why.

First, let me quickly recap the things that we have learned are Guatemalan problems this week. First, hospitals and schools have the same problem. Those that are public are no good - those that are private are too expensive to be viable for many people. We learned that the Guatemalan nation is very machismo, or manly. This means that women's rights are terribly undervalued, and rape and femicide are rampant. We learned that Guatemala is hit with a myriad of storms every year that devastate its landscape, it has four active volcanoes, and it sits between two tectonic plates and is upon three major fault lines. Guatemalan human rights are also in serious danger. Those who stand up for themselves are silenced by people in power, and the land of many peoples are threatened by big businesses. To top that off, a new strategy is being taken against those who are leaders in their communities against injustices: criminalization. Criminalization is not the killing of those that lead, but their jailing - cutting them off from their people and draining their families of all resources so that they are not dead, but broken.

Today we learned two new major things. First, Guatemalan migration is extremely common. Those that immigrate to Guatemala have been persecuted out of their homes, and are often broken physically, mentally, and spiritually. Those that emigrate to the US (the most common area) are persecuted, and often find it very difficult to support the families they left to help - if they even make it. These people are at our doorstep. There are no thin walls here, we hear about these people's struggles daily. The second thing we learned today is extremely sobering. Today, we were supposed to have a speaker from La Puya, a Mayan community which has been locked for two years in a struggle. A mining company has been working there, poisoning the water supply and evicting people from lands which are rightly theirs. The people have thus blocked the road, and have been protesting for two years keeping the company out of their lands in their many attempts every few weeks to drive mining tools into La Puya. But today, the company went again, and our speaker had to stay to continue the struggle. This time the company brought riot police, and the people were tear gassed. Men, women, children, and the elderly were beaten as the mining tools were pushed past the blockade. This as well does not sound from behind a wall. It is loud because it is real.

This mission trip is not one in which we performed much physical labour, it was for our education. We learned what it is to be in Guatemala, and it has absolutely taught me something important. These are not problems between us and them, these are not problems between the haves and have-nots, and these are not problems between the United States and Guatemala. These are human problems. Because we made up these walls.

Once this realization is made, the yelling that was behind something increases in volume, it becomes deafening. Because we are among those who brought the tear gas and weapons, and we are among the people who scream in pain as they are mercilessly beaten. As Cooper House heads home, I hope that I and my friends can talk to people about this, and bring attention to it. I hope that I can meet people, and talk to them, and make them feel uncomfortable as I do. I hope I can make people angry at these atrocities. I hope I can start people yelling.

Because we are all human. And these thin walls do not exist.
-Austin Cooke


An Open Letter to Guatemala:

Mi amor,

Thank you. For your eternal hospitality, your rich culture, your stories shared, and the memories made here. You will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Thank you for reminding me right after graduation that I do not have be in a formal institution to continue learning, and for granting me the opportunity to learn from you.

Thank you for welcoming me with warmth, open arms, and all the tortillas I could ever ask for.

Thank you for reminding me that this is just the beginning, and that there is always a reason for hope.

Thank you for humbling me, and forcing me to feel uncomfortable or angry at injustices at times, so that I may remember that there is always a fight to be fought. And along with that, thank you for sharing your sorrows along with your triumphs, and reminding me of what passion looks like.

Thank you for allowing me and my friends to sing loudly in public with only a few (well-deserved) stares, and thank you for bringing us closer together. I am eternally grateful for the laughter you have brought us and know that when I think of Guatemala, there will always be a smile on my face.

Thank you for your patience as I struggled with Spanish and thank you for validating my struggle as I strive to be better at conscious, intentional, and inclusive language.

And finally, thank you for making my first week in the "real world" one of the most memorable and meaningful of my life.

While there is no way I could possibly repay you for what you have given me, know that you will remain in my thoughts and my prayers, and that I cannot wait to return to the land of the eternal spring.

Con todo mi afecto,
Krissy