If anyone wonders how one gets started helping in a foreign country...............I can only offer my own example, as on the pages of this blog, but here is a summary in a few paragraphs:   I visited Antigua to learn Spanish and while there looked up several projects, went to visit them and gave them my credentials - M.A. in psychology and MFT license, former teacher and social worker.   Unfortunately what I didn't have at the beginning was Spanish.   So that held everything else up.

But where there's a will, there's a way.   So I volunteered to help with babies in the hospital; babies don't care if you can speak Spanish...they just want to be held and smiled at, and hear a loving voice.   Then by chance I met someone who was involved with a project and was willing to take me in to shepherd his young teachers, if I would take a training.   So - sure, of course!  I attended the training and became enraptured with their philosophy and their program of "brain gym"-adapted exercises for preschoolers.   I left the hospital after writing a letter to the doctors, praising their physical care of the babies but alerting about the need for emotional and developmental work with them, and writing a small manual for future volunteers.

I worked in Antigua for this project for several years and then moved closer to the director of that program in San Pedro LL.  There I worked for the director, testing in the schools, seeing kids who were having difficulty reading, and shepherding a teacher in one public school classroom.   In that school, their director gave me a chance at my own preschool classroom to provide enhanced experiences for the children in their regular classes.  

I began selling artifacts of the local artisans in my home town to gain money to buy the school paint for their preschool tables and chairs, and then a copier for the office (so the teachers weren't hand-drawing activities pages), and finally preschool play-yard equipment (put in by the parents.)

About that time I met two painters (introduced to me by their cousin, the man who painted our tables and chairs) and began to offer funds for various of their activities with kids, becoming more and more involved over the years to the point of teaching in class, looking for sponsors, taking the painters to the states to sell paintings, etc etc.  After three years, I discontinued the classroom in San Pablo after teaching some beginning teachers to maintain the activities in that room and leaving them with all my equipment.

The painters and I met a parting-of-the-ways when I finally discovered they were cheating me, and eventually mishandling the project funds and cheating the mothers.   With some trepidation and legal advice, I branched out and did my own version of the project - the whole board of directors and half the families coming with me.

While this continued, I met a tailor who could bring a professional reality to my clothing designs, and we began selling clothing made from recycled Guatemalan textiles in the same way that I had previously developed benefit events for the school.   

I'm still heading the children's project on my own, and the clothing project as well - though the pandemic has made a serious dent in my ability to sell in the states.   But on we go, and we're doing well enough - supporting 35 families, in the process with a community garden and learning to develop saleable products from the garden.

Thank Heavens my friends in the states as well as people who have met and believed in us, continue to support the families in the program.   I am grateful and humbled by this generosity, every day.

So this is to say - this all has come to me, step-by-step, by following my nose, saying "yes" to things that came, and by doing what I love and naturally occurs to me.   In the process I have learned much about my abilities and my failings.  Have learned much about how important it is to establish a project that is meaningful to the participants, especially because in their need they will say "yes" to anything, whether it really fits for them or not.

I've had to learn how to allow others to have a part in the project without losing track of its original intent, how to establish guidelines that are clear to staff and participants so that they aren't confused and you aren't overwhelmed, how to be fair and just to staff and participants, alike, when there are so many different needs, ideas, and circumstances.   What has seemed to work very well is to have a participant "Board of Directors" or, here, Junta Directiva.  I make it clear that I make the ultimate decisions because I have to honor my sponsors and I hold the money, but I want their opinions and input.  I also put them completely in charge of what they put in the food baskets, how they are accountable to the participants, and how they distribute the food.   I also include them in decisions about including or discontinuing families - though, for close-community reason, many are not comfortable.  They want to give me "the dirt"/gossip/their opinions....but want ME to make the decisions.

It's all been difficult, and much has been enormously fun, touching, and deeply rewarding.

 MOVING ALONG.  Recently opened a new website for our clothing enterprise, and today learned that it is suggested (in the infinite wisdom of commercial mentality) to link your blog to your website.  Not sure what their motive is - but what I got about this suggestion was that many people who come looking for "ethnic clothing" or something from Guatemala.....have a curiosity for many things associated with this - the customs, where different styles or motifs come from.   Maybe they even have a craving for different lifestyle, a new life, perhaps.  Maybe they would want to know how the creator of this clothing got here; maybe they would like to know more about my life, my journey, so they can begin or continue to dream about theirs.

So I'm making the attempt, in my infinite lack of technical ability, to make this link.   I would love it if this blog were more interactive; if your questions and doubts, or alternate experiences could interweave with mine.  Comment, if you can figure out how.   I checked the box that said "permit" - I hope that works.

Science and Religion

It has been several years since I blogged here.....despite continuing to live in Guatemala, and living a constantly interesting life.   Since I cut the ties with my former friend (last blog) I started a project on my own, with the same basic intent and format as the one we had together.....you can find this at www.creatingmyfuture.org.   And I learned that I can make it "on my own".....I didn't need to put up with all the disillusions and difficulties just to have the gifts that that person brought to the project.
The new project utilizes the knowledge and services of the Junta Directiva (Parent Board) far more than did the last one, and we have 4 young teachers who were former students.  In the place of the Director/teacher we have a painter from a nearby town who is guiding the older students in the direction of more originality and creativity.   So, really everything is much better.  I miss a "compadre" to do the project with, but sometimes decisions are easier on your own, as every recently-divorced woman learns.
Additionally, in place of taking artifacts made by other artisans of the area to the states to sell to fund the structure of the project, I am designing clothing from traditional textiles, with the great help of my tailor (a local man).   He (and much of his family) have become my friends, as well....but fortunately I have found I can trust them implicitly.
Since I faced the chance that I might die last year (a vision I had when I was 50 or so that I would "die at 83"), I have arranged for a friend to take over the project, and to live in my house until it sells (for the benefit of my children) if by chance I do die.  Fortunately this didn't happen "at 83" since I'm now a year older.   I also checked with my children and learned that they have no particular interest in holding my ashes, "afterwards" so I am free to be buried here in San Pe....which will be much easier for my friend who has promised to handle this occasion.
So I can die now, right? 
No, not yet.   I'm too busy.
Several years ago I decided if I was hungry and hankering for a chance to dance freely, as I used to at Dance Church in Chico, Calif, I might as well start it myself.   For two years or so in flourished, in a small way (like 8-10 regular people - a great quantity in a small community like this) and was way fun.   Not only my body flourishes in this activity, but my spirit as well.   My way of dancing is to give my body "up to God" - asking Him/Her to move me.    Evidently S/he likes to dance.
We eventually changed venues from the quaint restaurant we were using, to the project classroom - a big concrete floor.   But person by person, knee, hip and back problems began, people got Chikunguna (a bit like Lyme, I think) or for one reason or another my friends "took a break" or dropped out.   So Dance Church happened with only 2-3 people, and less and less frequently.
During my 83rd year, we hardly danced at all, and by chance I didn't dance during my California event-trips, either.    And my body has gone down hill.    Knee problems mostly.   My inclined hill down to the road from my house has become a bit problematic.

Recently we started up again.  This mostly happens, it seems, during wintertime, when people are here from Canada and other Northern climes.   And my knees don't hurt when I dance, so that's all good.
Right now there are some folks in town from Canada who are also volunteering at the project - which is way fun, particularly because this particular person is great with the kids (despite minimal Spanish) and talented in several ways.
My project runs really well and the kids are occupied and entertained during class, but I know they could be doing even more creative work - I somehow have only minimal ideas and energy for making this happen.   So I love input.

That's all - that's enough for now.  

One of the most difficult things about living in a third-world, or perhaps a second-world country, is that a foreigner is perceived as "rico" - rich.   And relatively speaking, we are.  But what this means is that - unless you live in an insulated community, which I can't imagine - you are surrounded by people who have less - way less - than you.  And if you are a person who relates to other people, of course you begin to relate to them, as friends, as you would in your own country.
And so you hear the sad stories - parents who have advanced illnesses who would have been cured if they lived in the U.S., even on MediCare; childen they can't take to the hospital even though they are suffering, homes threatened by the chicanery of someone who talked them into taking out a loan they can't pay, homes lost to flood - the list goes on and on, tho medical expenses are a big part.  This is especially true in towns where alcoholism and diabetes are rife.
So, as a good friend, again and again you respond to these needs - and are glad to be able to do so. 
Unfortunately there are people who see this - or a project to help the needy - as an opportunity to take advantage of.   So the stories proliferate and it is only after some time that you discover that those stories were false, there was never an operation, the grandmother didn't really die, and so on.
It is amazing to me that I was so easily tricked, but of course I had my part in it.
I came to Guatemala (without realizing it) emotionally needy - only a few years after the death of my spouse, and the forming of their own partnerships and/or families of all my children - and knowing noone.   So I was ready to be invited to birthday parties of the children, to share Christmas with my new friends, and to help when needed.   Perhaps I allowed myself to be blinded to the lies or exaggerations.
Now, although everyone is poor, relative to you, not everyone takes advantage.  I have had vendors run down the street after me to give me correct change, someone went out of her way to tell me I had dropped a 100 quetzal note in the street (a fortune to them).  These things happened many times.   And my Friends helped me with some things - bringing soup when I was ill, or a dinner when I first returned from a trip, checking on me if I didn't answer my phone all day.  It was not entirely a one-way street; maybe they felt this evened the scale. But that was never a verbal agreement.
When my Friend's economic situation went on a downturn, because there were suddenly lots and lots of people in town doing his type of work, the problem stepped up.   Money disappeared from my house several times.  He began to pocket money that I gave him to pay people who did work for me.

So that was the end of our friendship.  And this was really sad for me; I had depended on his help and his friendship, and that of his family.  He had shared much about his life with me, and I cared about him.   But allowing him to continue to take advantage of me would have been bad for him as well as me.   So I left the friendship, and several years later the work that we did in common.   Tough times.

Learning to set clear limits with those you deal with is one of the first priorities, and will save bad feelings and your heart.

Una boda (a wedding)

Anita, sister of Jose & Henry, had her wedding today. When I arrived at the father's house, where she has lived all her life, the patio was decorated for a lunch, later, (crepe paper, balloons) and many family members were standing or sitting around, waiting for the event to begin. All the old women sat together, and each person who entered the house passed them, kissing each of their hands. In her bedroom was the bride, having her hair curled. All of the women in the family had to get in on the act, with advice, curling, arranging her elaborate braids, etc. She was dressed in a falda (wrapped skirt), faja (embroidered belt), and blouse like any other day, but all new and the blouse was white and  more elaborate - much like the top my daughter Anna wore to her wedding.  Her elaborate white veil hung nearby.
Many tears as her hair wouldn't curl properly; finally Anita took over the job herself.  When she felt things were good enough, she went out into the patio and rehearsed the young niece and nephew with their role as pillow-carriers, to walk in front of the bride.  I said something to the father about "losing your daughter today" but he didn't seem to relate.  Then I remembered she will live nearby (in the house of her husband's family, as I understood it.) 
People seemed to be waiting for something, and finally Anita's madrina - her godmother - arrived.  More kissing of hands (an elaborate system that honors elders, or those important in the church or community.)  Finally the madrina went to the bride, and it is she who has the honor of putting on the bride's veil.
When everything was ready the whole assembly, family and close friends, went out onto the street in front of the house, and ahead of them two bombas were set off - huge noises like a cannon-shot, reverberating in the surrounding mountains.  Then the procession to the church.  I asked a man where the novio, the groom, was in all this; he said he was doing something similar, but not as elaborate, in his house.  "After all, he is the receiver," he said.  So we all, some 40 people, walking slowly up a steep alley and then thru the streets of town to the church. 
Inside all the pews were decorated with balloons and some little statuary.  When she entered...alongside her madrina and her parents - the music started up, marimba and chorous - the Wedding March that we know, although someone altered.  The groom and his padrino (godfather -my old landlord and community leader) were waiting near the foot of the area that includes the set-back altar.
They joined and all sat in the front pew for the mass.  My informant said the audience of some 2-300 people was not divided - groom's side, bride's side.
There were the usual call-and-response Catholic prayers, and then many readings from the Bible by assistants (sacerdotes?) --  two were wearing leather jackets, but most robes, and one his traditional Catholic robes with the additional of a local traditional men's brightly-colored sash.  Several of these readings (on the subject of weddings) were given by a French woman who has lived here for 20 years, speaks perfect Tz'utujil and seems to have the - perhaps informal - role of a nun.  She is completely involved in the local traditional community.
The priest then spoke at length about the importance of trusting completely in God, and how that will aid this couple on their journey together.  He seems like a lovely (young) person - speaks informally and personally.   He said he had a secret; he and the bride and groom had grown up together, and the padrino and one other man closely involved had been two of their "professors."  So this wedding was special to him.
He then called the couple up and had them join hands.  He blessed their union and said what an important example they were to the youth of the community (many people never get legally married, much less in the church).  They then repeated their vows to each other, each saying, "I give myself to you promising to be faithful in poverty and richness, sickness and health.." and then I can't recall the ending words...as long as we both shall live??    The priest blessed their rings as symbols of their promises on this day, and they exchanged them with some help from the padrino.  They then each said to the other "I promise to love and respect you."  (I was sort of listening for this, because when the priest spoke, there were several phrases about the woman being obedient, and the man being caring...as Christ cares for his church.)   The priest didn't give the direction, as in our customs, but the groom then pulled back the veil and gave his new wife a quick kiss.
The couple then faced the crowd and were heartily applauded.
They then came into the center of the church were they took Holy Communion, (and at that point I sneaked out of the church to go to the bank before it closed.)  She will go to live in his house tonight.

Imagine generosity

I woke from a dream of singing the last line's of John Lennon's IMAGINE, and spent a long time thinking about how exactly that line went.....what was it before "...join us, and the world will live as One."   It seemed to me it was words about throwing away ego, being more generous, living without limits....and I pondered this for a long time as it related to my current life, and my recent questions about appropriate behavior.
Those came from a man who supplies our "viveres", our food baskets for the moms.  He came to our director yesterday and said he has "un necesidad..."    How I've come to hate those words, because here EVERYONE has "un necesidad" and often comes to me - as the local perceived-as-rich white person - with that problem.  Rarely just asking for a handout or "loan," but selling something of theirs, usually cortes (local wrap-around skirts that I use to make clothing to sell to support our project) or guipiles (traditional women's tops).  These "necesidades" are everything from family from the Capital coming to visit and they are expected to pay to feed them for several days, to medical expenses, to school expenses for their kids, to their mortgage or "hipoteca" due and they can't pay.  Good reasons, I'd like to help.  But I can buy the materials I need super-cheap at a textile market across the lake, I can't pay 3 x the price here in San Pedro because that means less for our project, which ALSO has "un necesidad."   The mean side of me says, Maybe I should say we have "un necessidad" too, could they please donate to our project??
So this supplier of food has "un necesidad" and our director says we should pay him what he's asking - three months in advance - because he does a lot for us.  "He always gives us a break on our baskets," he says.  "He buys in quantity and passes that savings on to us."
Well, that's why we pay three months in advance, so that he can do that. 
I come from the U.S.  I cannot imagine a business contact that you have coming to you to ask for an advance because they have personal economic problems.  Unheard of, unless you are family or something.  But here it's expected??  I'm a bad person if I don't do this?   Our landlady had "un necessidad" six months or so ago and wanted a year-and-a-half in advance, and I paid it, in order to keep this good-site-at-low-cost.  And it has nearly busted our project budget!   I haven't taken in enough since then to pay our two teachers a regular (low) salary.
I go to the father of the family I live with, because I have heard him say, "If somebody needs something, I do it, because you never know when you might be the needy one."
I know "what goes around, comes around" at least in theory.
When I first came to Guatemala I had $16,000 in the bank.  And I was generous when my Spanish teacher needed $200 for brain surgery for her son.  And with each reasonable thing that came up after that.  I believed that you enter the energetic flow of money with positivism and what you give out comes back to you.
$16,000 later I began to wonder.   Surely some of those dollars were spent on my various trips to the U.S. to do Benefit Events for the project, a few dollars were spent on furniture I needed ($125-150 each for 3) and going to restaurants here with friends (usually $6-10).  Over $3000 went in loans to a friend who returned it, not in money, but in work.  At least $1000 went to put a roof on the house of a woman who was struggling to make ends meet.  And there was $50 here and $75 there, each of them to help someone out.
And now I have nothing left of that $16,000.   Did any of it return to me?  Can I believe that philosophical concept?  At some point I realized MUCH had returned to me through my generosity - appreciation and esteem from my friends in the States who know about my project, MUCH appreciation, genuinely expressed, from the mothers in our project whom I've helped for four years.  Just nothing monetary.  Although my son has recently been very generous in helping me by property.  Is all that part of that "flow"?   I think so.   I just don't have personal money to give out any more.  And I'm very protective of our project money since it's down to the minimum to keep us giving classes and food.
So what did the father of my family say?  "No, this is not an expectation here; it's not 'part of the culture', and you're not a bad person if you don't do it."
Well that freed me up to think more creatively.  So I went back to the phone and told our director that we would pay one month in advance now, one at the end of the month, and then in December we would pay for Dec, Jan, Feb.  A more balanced approach.  I hope he accepts it, but if not there are other tiendas (stores), and we can make it clear from the beginning that there are advances every three months and nothing more.
But still, early this morning I pondered the extent of my appropriate limitations.  I am happy to give anyone something that I am not using.  I am happy to give a small loan if there's surety of repayment, or work they can do to repay it.  These things actually do make me happy - and to some extent I think the joyous physical feeling you get from generosity should be its own reward.    But even though my house is too large for me, am I willing to have a family come live with me?  Probably not, although maybe for a short-term emergency.  I think I'm probably not willing to give up my personal needs for space and time, at this point in life.  Though I have freely given 3 mornings a week and many other hours to both Ayudame and my preschool project, and have trucked suitcases through airports and exerted MUCH to produce the benefits in the States every six months.  And I will always listen to someone's troubles if they are sincere.  Maybe those are my limits.
Am I missing something?  Is the guy who gives the shirt off his back freer than I am?  Probably. 
This isn't the end of this questioning, and probably is something I'm here to learn. 
Does my horoscope give me counsel?  It suggests that that fine balance between contraction and expansion, between "Mrs. Gotrocks" and "the Scrooge," between generous and stingy are an important learning point for me in this lifetime.
At least that's where I'm at for now.  Doing the best I can.
This morning I looked up the lyrics of the song and they were not as demanding as I dreamed, "I hope some day you'll join us,  And the world will live as One."

The Lake, the Lake.....

With all these posts, over five years of experience at Lake Atitlan, how many photos have I posted of the lake itself?....this constant, and constantly-changing presence.  I will post what I can locate.

For my first seven months here I lived with in a few hundred feet of the lake in the house of my dreams.  Then a little further away (not so directly visible) for 2-1/2 years, and then another mostly blissful two years in the first house.  From the balcony the lake view was close, and every morning I could see the local fishermen take their wooden cayukas out onto the water....whether the lake was a flat silver disk or the waves were rocking the boat so strongly I didn't know how the men could stand.
In the early morning hours a mist rises off the lake, obscuring the boats and the fishermen...sometimes just the arc of the fishing net thrown into the air was visible.

The third photo is three of our girls in the project painting by the lake.  The fourth is view from my balcony.
And after 1-1/2 years in Antigua, Guatemala, and more than five years in San Pedro la Laguna,  I'm still here.   A trajectory.