Adopt-a-Village in Guatemala

When Matt and Adam Richman of Chester Springs, Pennyslvania, heard about the two little Mayan boys, Osvin and Jonatan, (see our previous blog) who lived in a tumble down shack with a mud floor, no furnishings, and only an open bonfire to cook upon, they wanted to know more.  Mrs. Richman told her sons that the two youngsters were part of a family of eight children and an abandoned mother, all of them struggling to survive on a handful of tortillas a day.  Matt and Adam told their parents, “We are going to sponsor them.”

Matt Richman, age 15, is a magician.  Yes, at his young age, he is a professional magician–winning  a scholarship from the Society of American Magicians to attend the Sorcerer’s Safari camp in Canada last summer. He began making a name for himself two years ago when he presented his card tricks at local restaurants as a strolling magician. Since then he has expanded his business, working at the outdoor cultural events in Phoenixville, where musicians and entertainers perform.

Here is a kid who is serious about his trade—see his Raise Rise card trick in person or on You Tube on his website (www.mattrichmanmagic.com) and you will be coming back for more.

His 13-year-old brother Adam is a balloon entrepreneur. Adam wows crowds of kids with his creations of an amazing array of hand-crafted balloon creatures.  Want a Pink Panther?  Or a Parrot-on-a-Perch?  How about a futuristic dog, a crazy cat, or some other weird animal? Want action? Watch him blow balloons with his nose!  (H-m-m-m).

Matt and Adam, two compassionate and caring young people, are now sending a portion of their earnings to Adopt-a-Village to ensure that Osvin and Jonatan will have food and clothing in the future.

We applaud you, Matt and Adam.

Frances

Hello all,

Hey!  What do you think about this great picture!

I traveled to Nuevo San Ildefonso a few days ago, a rather tortuous trip that required a four-wheel drive vehicle to climb 4,000 feet over a steep boulder-studded road, slippery with mud.  After an hour of challenging the mud with spinning tires, the hardy pick-up arrived, somewhat less glistening clean, at the base of the tiny community.

To my surprise, the entire village turned out!  It was Sunday, and the families, not working on that day, were happy to have an event in the making.

People gathered outside the one-room schoolhouse, chairs were set out for the moms and kids, soft drinks offered to the guests, and the men made speeches, as is the Mayan custom.  When I explained Natalie’s gesture of friendship to them, it was clear that the Nuevo San Ildefonso parents were moved.  They prepared gifts that I would take back to the United States for her.

Upon hearing of Natalie’s desire to learn how to weave, Juana Alonzo took me to her hut and introduced me to her young daughter who she was teaching to weave.  So I include her photo for you to enjoy.

Let’s keep those friendships blooming!

Frances

In the more than 25 years that I have been traveling to Guatemala, I do not remember a time when the weather has been so punitive as it has been this year. In February, the Pacaya volcano, located just outside Guatemala City, erupted, spreading volcanic ash over the entire city.  The ash mixed with the ensuing rains to create a cement-like mixture that caused a shutdown at the international airport for days, and brought untold infrastructure damage to the city.

In May, the deadly tropical storm, Agatha, swept through the country, causing hundreds of deaths, creating over 100,000 reported evacuations, and costing millions of dollars of damage.  Since then until now, the rains have not ceased.

By the end of August, the water-logged country had suffered thousands of landslides, some of which buried homes and their inhabitants, obliterated roads, and blocked access to towns and villages.  Bridges were washed out countrywide.  Areas of the international Pan American Highway closed and whole sections of pavement simply crumbled under the tonnage of mud and disappeared  into the gorges below.  Government earth-moving equipment was impotent to keep the highway cleared as the rivers of mud continued to flow daily, uprooting trees and anything else in their wake.  As we inched along the highway on Sunday, I hoped we would not encounter one if those avalanches of muck and tree limbs coming our way.

Yes, making the two-day trip to Guatemala City was was unnerving.  I estimate we passed more than 300 mudslides, some small, some gigantic.  The massive slides blocked the entire four-lane highway.  There, bulldozers had plowed open narrow passageways for one-way traffic.    The normal six-hour trip seemed to take sixteen.   Throughout the journey, we were forced to hop-scotch into oncoming traffic, sharing miles and miles of highway with the northbound vehicles.  We were on high alert, not knowing what we’d find around each curve.

On August 30, the day before I left for the United States, the BBC reported that human losses and infrastructure destruction continued to accumulate, with rivers running at dangerous levels, flash floods, mudslides and landslides.

It feels good to have left all that rain and mud behind.  Not so good to know that the hurricanes are heading Miami-way.

Good wishes to you all, and please send good wishes to our Guatemalan friends.

Frances

Hello again,

Here is the sequel to Brigidito´s story.  After receiving his small pay for washing the truck, he added those earnings to his  past year´s savings.  Then he and his dad travelled to town to buy beans, cooking oil, salt, sugar, milk, and laundry soap for the eight fatherless children he wanted to help.

Upon arriving at the family´s hut, the children drew near to him.  It was obvious that this young guest had come to visit them, and them alone.   One by one, their little faces lit up as he placed his heartfelt gifts in their hands.

Later, on the ride home, he was quiet.  What was he thinking, I wondered?  I didn´t ask.  I didn´t want to intrude upon his private thoughts.

Five-year-old Osvin and his younger brother Jonatan are just two of the  little kids in Guatemala caught up in extreme poverty and its devastating consequences.  Abandoned by their father, they live with a sick and overworked mother who is overwhelmed in her attempts to support them and eight other siblings.   It is clear that the children’s most minimal needs of food and clothing are  not being met.

Yesterday, AAV’s driver sent me these photos and told me that the only clothes these two little guys have are on their backs.  Without a helping hand, these kids will grow up continuing to suffer from malnutrition, ill health, and little hope to be educated.  It is you, our readers, who can reach out and help.  Sponsor Osvin.  Sponsor Jonatan.  Sponsor both of them–and give them a fighting chance in their young lives.

Or send a small donation so we can buy them food.

Thank you,

Frances

Brigido Berduo Perez enthusiastically tackles the big job of washing down a pick-up truck about 20 times his size.  His motivation?  He  earns money with this chore and others so he can  buy food for an impoverished family of ten children who have no father.

United Nations statistics show that Guatemala has the 6th worst level of malnutrition of children under five in the world.  In the rural area in northern Huehuetenango, poverty and malnutrition is extreme.

Brigido is a Guatemalan child who lives in the village of Quetzali.  He is in third grade.  Despite his young age, he is well aware of other children who have less than he does.

Hello all,

I want to share a letter I just received.  It came from Amy, mother of little Natalie who is featured in my previous blog.  She writes:

“That is a wonderful blog post.  Thank you for posting it.  I can’t wait to show it to her kindergarten teacher.

I don’t know if I ever told you about Natalie learning how to weave on a backstrap loom. I had found out about a sheep shearing demonstration at a local historic sight.  They had all things related to wool such as spinning, dyeing and weaving and all sorts of looms set up to try.  Natalie was instantly attracted to the backstrap loom.  She had no idea that they were used in Guatemala.  She couldn’t stop weaving on it.

She loved weaving!  I told the woman demonstrating that Natalie was from Guatemala. Last summer, we went to her home and she made Natalie her own backstrap loom (a small one out of popsicle sticks).

Natalie says she was born to weave!  She loves her Guatemalan heritage and is very interested in it.”

Great story Amy, thank you for sharing with all of us.

Frances

P.S.  Here are some photos of girls from the village of Nuevo San Ildefonso in their beautiful backstrap-loomed blouses made by their mothers.

Seven-year old Natalie, along with her school friends, recently created a giant poster to send to Mayan kids in Guatemala.  Why? Natalie’s teacher at a Budd Lake, New Jersey primary school was inspired to learn about the friendship between Natalie and Alicia, a Mayan girl in Guatemala; she recognized an opportunity to bring awareness to her students about children living in other countries.

The poster’s theme is “Friendships Bloom Around the World.”  Under the teacher’s guidance, the kids were encouraged to “express friendship through art.”

Alicia, a young Mayan girl living in the remote village of Nuevo San Ildefonso about 30 miles south of the Mexican border, exchanges photos and drawings with Natalie through the Adopt-a-Village Child Sponsorship program.   Alicia will receive the large drawing when Adopt-a-Village president travels to Guatemala later this month.

Alicia lives a small impoverished community of families who speak Mam, one of the 24 different Mayan languages spoken by the indigenous people of Guatemala.  The community is known for the beautiful and intricate designs of blouses and skirts that the mothers weave on back strap looms.  (See Alicia’s blouse in her photo)

Thanks Natalie for your poster! And give our thanks to your teacher and classmates!  What a creative way to open the doors to international friendships!

First the earthquake in February—then the volcanic eruption in May—and now, the deadly tropical storm.  Evacuations, flooding, landslides, injuries, death.  I ask myself, “When is it going to get better for Guatemala?”

At the height of the tropical storm Agatha, I was horrified to learn that our more-than-spunky school administrator, Pedro Sebastian, had traveled to Guatemala City to obtain books for our high school students.  On the bus, people had squeezed in, packing three to a seat.  Others jammed the aisle.  It was a common enough mode of travel for those too poor to afford something more comfortable, but traveling through a tropical storm in gale winds on a flooded highway was not so common.  However, eventually, the bus reached its destination.  Whether it was due to the driver, heroic in his own right, who had successfully manipulated mudslides, inched the bus over hazardous bridges and steadied it in the high winds, or due to the very noticeable cross that hung from the rearview mirror, passengers were left to decide.

At 5:00 p.m. the same day, Pedro called me to say he had collected the books he’d come for and was now getting ready to board a return bus bound for Huehuetenango.  Of course, I thought he was joking!  It would mean a night journey in the torrential downpour on the now even more dangerous highway.  The trip would take him through Chimaltenango, the region worst hit by the storm. Landslides had buried entire communities there and dozens of people had been reported dead. “Please don’t go now,” I implored him.  But Pedro, a fatalist, wasn’t going to let a life-threatening storm delay him.  He gave his signature laugh and said, “I have to go, I’ve got work to do.”

From the time he’d left the villages where Adopt-a-Village works, more than 30 inches of rain had drenched the mountainsides.  AAV’s driver told me how the earth, transformed into mud, had slid down and buried sections of road.  Pickup trucks, full of passengers in back, sunk into the muck up to the floorboards.  Others fishtailed wildly, fighting to stay on the road and continue their journey.  I’d had to travel that same road in rain and mud three weeks ago.  I remember the fishtailing and my fright.  It was far worse now.

In all of Central America, Guatemala was most devastated by the storm.  Over 100,000 people have been evacuated from their homes.  The authorities continue to search for bodies.  You can imagine that I am anxious to leave the States to see that all our Mayan friends are safe.  I am worried most about the poorest families, and especially the widows and children we help who tend to live in the remotest areas in the flimsiest structures.  I ask myself, “Will their crude huts still be standing after such a fierce storm?”

Frustratingly, at this time of writing, the Guatemalan airport is still closed as crews continue to clear the cement-like mixture of volcanic ash and water from the airstrip.  However, my hope is to leave on Friday.  I will write again after reaching Guatemala.

Frances

Twelve-year-old Alex is a kid with a social conscience.  He sells lemonade  with his brother and little sisters and uses his earnings  to  help Guatemalan children. What a great example of kids helping to make a better world!

Adopt-a-Village in Guatemala gives thanks to Emily Jones, a longtime supporter of AAV, for all her hard work in hosting a fundraiser to purchase books for the Adopt-a-Village high school.  The Seattle event, “Dinner with a Doctor,” was sponsored by the University of Washington’s “Hand2Hand” pre-health philanthropy and community-service group, of which Emily is the co-activities coordinator.  Jill Hodges presented our organization’s programs with the acclaimed video she filmed and produced for AAV. The event was attended by 45 of the  university’s students interested in pursuing a career in healthcare, as well as medical professionals, including the Chief of Surgery from Harborview Hospital and the Chief of Pediatrics from Seattle Children’s Hospital.

Emily is an enthusiastic AAV volunteer and child sponsor of an eight-year-old girl, Maricela, (see photo) who lives in the remote village of Nuevo San Ildefonso.  Fifteen years ago, young Mam families settled the tiny community, naming it for their home town where land was overworked and in short supply.  They migrated to the only location they could afford to purchase land—a distant and remote area in northwestern Guatemala. Today, Maricela lives with 10 other families where they eke out a living by growing coffee on small plots terraced on the hot, low-lying mountainside.  When the coffee harvest is over, they migrate to the coast in search of seasonal work.

Life in Nuevo San Ildefonso entails daily hardships.  It is a pioneer life in every sense.  Land was cleared by hand and, for 15 years, families had to transport all building materials,  food and supplies on their backs up a long winding trail.  Family homesteads consist of crudely constructed cottages where chickens scratch around and pigs prepare themselves for market.  The village’s only burro is used to transport firewood.  A rustic wooden structure built by fathers serves as the one-room schoolhouse.  When the government refused to send a teacher because the village lacked the obligatory 25 school children, families fought their case and won, an unusual achievement in Guatemala.  Currently, after months of back-breaking labor working with picks and shovels, the village men are nearing the completion of their rough  four-wheel drive road.  

Adopt-a-Village has lent a hand to these hardworking families over the years, supplying rainwater catchment tanks, supplies, materials, and a school library, emergency food, and training in animal husbandry for several village members.

Despite their harsh way of life, the people of Nuevo San Ildefonso have a strong and positive spirit.  They do not give up even in the face of their defeats.  They are an inspirational people, and Adopt-a-Village is proud to call them friends.

On May 1^st, the people of Santa Cruz Barillas, local seat of government and regional commercial of center of 200,000 inhabitants, viewed the award-winning float created by our Mayan Center’s high school students.  Attired in costumes reminiscent of the ancient Maya, students proudly presented their creation.  Draped in large paintings of mythical Mayan gods with a massive jaguar constructed of wood and paper Mache on top, the unique float brought cheers from the onlookers.

These Mayan students had been awarded scholarships from Adopt-a-Village in Guatemala based on academic excellence and leadership abilities.  Their presentation was a demonstration of their skills, creativity, and ability to organize.  Their motivation—a deep pride in their school.  Student council president, Floridalia López, expressed this pride when she said, “This is our first year.  We need to let everyone know we are an important part of the community”.

The heavy fog has enshrouded the rainforest and neither moonlight nor the firefly’s intermittent flicker can pierce the obscurity.  It’s pitch black.  I awaken in the unfinished cabin, a small and simple abode elevated high off the ground to instil the sense of living in a tree house.  For all the years I have slept here, it remains without doors and windows, so pure fresh air is my companion of the night.  I look at my watch…4:30 a.m.  Slowly waking, I realize that our resident jaguar is likely still hunting and it will be another half an hour before the playful paxas (pashas) announce the break of day. 

The Mayan paxa is perhaps my favorite bird, not for his beauty, as he only sports black plumage and resembles nothing more than a lowly chicken.  He can hardly be admired for his melodic song either, because he has none.  Rather, he is held in awe for his thrilling aerial antics.  This is the bird that announces dawn and this is the bird that bids farewell to the day with as much gusto and style as any high diving pilot performing in a July 4th air exhibition.  The paxa introduces his show with a loud rifle-like crack immediately followed with the staccato rat-tat-tat of a New Year’s Eve noisemaker, then gleefully executes his high dives and swoops with a pretentious air.  More than once, as he mischievously zooms through my open porch, his din has knocked me out of my sleep and almost onto the floor.

However, this morning it is not the paxa that has awakened me, but voices, muted by the morning mist.  Two students have descended the mountain trail, carrying an enormous pot of dough just ground on the motorized corn grinder.  The next sound–firewood being chopped.  And the next–pots rattling.  At the Mayan Center, every student has daily work duty.  These students are on kitchen assignment.  Others, rising later, clean the goat stable, feed and water the chickens and collect eggs.  Yet others clean the school, weed the vegetable garden, or perform one of the more unpalatable tasks, such as scattering odor-killing wood ash down the latrines.

Whereas the Center employs a cook, it’s the students who really make the kitchen hum.  The peel the vegetables, cook the morning atol, (a hot drink made from boiled rice or corn served with sugar and cinnamon), and serve up the food.  But their primary expertise is the complicated task of making 300 corn tortillas every morning.  The first step is to build a hearty fire on the ground outside.  Once hot, the comal (a large flat pan) is set on top of the flames, and the process begins.  A “tortilla work group” usually consists of four students, three boys and one girl.  I would imagine that the girl is present to give the boys faith, as tortilla-making is definitely not on the list of a Mayan’s boy tasks at home.  But they are good natured about it, chattering and joking as one forms the dough into balls, another flattens it in the press, and the third cooks.  And while the tortillas don’t turn out like those that Mom makes, hungry kids devour them nonetheless.

At times, I wonder what they think, working, playing and studying in this remote wilderness.  What would I think, I wondered, if I had had such an opportunity in my youth?  I think I would have loved it.  No standing in line in the hall, military fashion, waiting for the teacher to give the OK order to enter the classroom.  No constant clanging alarms announcing the end of one class and the beginning of another.  No entrapment all day within drably painted cement walls.

The Mayan Center is a unique residential high school set in a magnificent and remote rainforest, designed to provide a perfect environment for serious study.  The students understand why they were chosen for their scholarships–to learn and to become future leaders in their communities.  They take their education to heart, expressing their gratitude not just verbally, but by their enthusiastic participation in all aspects of their studies and maintenance of their school.  Last week, when school director Pedro Sebastian and I were viewing the creative decorations made by the kids and placed in every classroom, he commented, “The students really love their school.”  I mentally added, “and their new friends, their cozy cabins, the fresh mountain air, and the joyful bird songs that waken them every morning.”

Connie Cloud is an air traffic controller in Alaska who commutes 850 miles to her job. (By air). Fifteen years ago, she became involved with Adopt-a-Village.

She writes: “Over the years, I have sponsored three beautiful children. I have loved receiving their letters and photos and feel like I have played a small part in their lives. During that time, I have watched Adopt-a-Village spread its tiny roots to become a major source of aid in northwest Guatemala. I am proud to be part of this fine organization!”

Connie expanded her involvement when she learned about AAV’s Mayan Training Center. “I knew right away that I wanted to become part of this grand vision. I knew I had been one of the lucky ones—through nothing more than being born in the right place in the world. I had parents who would see to it that I would be educated. One the other hand, because Mayan children were not born in the “right” place, they are being denied. I thought about all the girls who are destined to a life of grinding poverty and hard labor, bearing children and beginning their work before daylight and continuing on into the night. I knew that by helping one of those girls with a scholarship, she would have hope for a better life. I truly want that for one Mayan girl”.

Connie told us she needs help to succeed in reaching her goal. “As much as I want to fulfill a child’s dream, I too have been affected by this bad economy. Nevertheless, I am determined to find a way to fund a scholarship. My plan? To find others who will join me and share the fees. I am excited to say that my first partner is an Alumni group of women in New York who are contributing 25% of the scholarship—$500. A scholarship covers the cost of room and board, textbooks, school materials, and a portion of the teachers’ salaries—a small percentage of what it would cost to board a child at a residential high school here in the States.”

“I am helping Noelia, a 15-year old Mayan girl, the school’s youngest child. She speaks one of Guatemala’s 23 ethnic languages, Q’anjob’al. She follows Mayan tradition by wearing the long foot-loomed skirt called a “corte.” She is the middle child of eight and the only one to attain an education beyond sixth grade. The family lives in a tumbledown shack on the edge of the road. Everyone in the family, including Noelia, works in the fields to eke out a basic living.”

If you would like to become part of Connie’s scholarship partnership to help Noelia complete her high school, please contact her at cccloud@gci.net and bring education and a happier and brighter future to a Mayan girl.

Frances

Dear Readers,

I thought the play was to be a comedy. The kids were giggling. As they readied themselves backstage, I caught glimpses of some outlandish costumes. They had used whatever they could find at hand—plastic, paper, borrowed clothing, tree branches. What ingenuity!

Opening set: A father, carrying his sick son his back, staggered into a doctor’s office, his ragtag family trooping in behind him. What would follow would be a clear and true depiction of how life plays out in the lives of impoverished Mayan families.

The overall theme of the production provided an example of how the Maya cope with their health emergencies. The father wavered on his feet after having carrying his 10-year-old child for many miles on his back. The entire extended family (including granddad, hunched over and hobbling along on a handmade cane) had trekked out of the mountains, desperately afraid for the wellbeing of the boy. Distraught, the mother began crying, imploring the doctor to treat her son. Everyone feared the possibility of an operation. The Maya believe strongly that if you take someone to the hospital, most likely that person will not leave alive.

The doctor affirmed that yes, indeed, the boy’s condition was serious and the doctor must operate. The family grew alarmed. Not only could they lose the child, but in order to pay for the operation, they would lose everything they possessed. They would be destitute. The doctor crossed his arms, named his exorbitant fee, and refused to begin surgery until he received the money.

At that point, I was painfully reminded of the time Adopt-a-Village had transported a young man suffering with a compound fracture to his leg to a hospital, a distance of 12 hours over a bone-jolting four-wheel drive road. At government hospitals in Guatemala, surgeries are free for the poor. Or so I understood. Several days later, I understood differently. There was a catch. Or better said, several catches.

Although penniless, this young patient would be responsible to pay for his medications, (including anesthesia), food, water, soap—even toilet paper. The final catch—he was responsible to purchase and deliver to the doctor the metal screws that would secure his fractured bones.

It was four days later, after the patient had suffered intense and unrelenting pain, that the family was finally able to find a lender. His brother purchased the screws in a distant city and brought them to the doctor. As a hospital requirement, he was required to stay at the hospital, sleeping on the floor beside his brother’s cot. His job was to purchase food and water for the patient and attend to his daily needs. The entire incident left me with only one thought. “Barbaric.”

The play followed a similar story line. Hovering over the child’s limp body, the mother begged her husband to rush to find a buyer who would purchase their small hut. It was sold at a deeply discounted price, leaving the family completely destitute. The doctor, money in hand, operated. The only happy ending to this play was that the child lived.

I learned something important that day from our students. They are keenly aware of the inequities of the political and social order under which they live. It’s part of being indigenous in Guatemala. It was neither through the spoken word nor the written word that they communicated their awareness, but through the medium of theater, a safer form of expression for them.

AAV’s foremost goal is to train our students in leadership skills. By demonstrating that they are able to express a clear understanding of the inequalities in their lives, our Mayan Center students have taken the first step toward becoming future leaders in their communities.

Frances

P.S. I very must appreciate receiving your comments. Please continue to write to me.

Hello again,

On March 8th, when 12 Mayan youths  stepped onto the soccer field at Monte Bello,  even the chatter of the children stopped.  Our Maya Jaguar boys sported white jerseys, black shorts, and white stockings.  Their black hair, cut short, and glistening in the sunlight, gave the final professional touch to their handsome black and white appearance.  No other team at this regional soccer tournament presented themselves so proudly or so well turned out.

Appearance aside, how would our boys do, I asked myself,  given that they had had no time to prepare.  The Mayan Center had received an invitation to participate in the tournament only four days earlier; in the following days it rained ceaselessly, making it impossible to practice.  The second challenge– team members came from many different villages, spoke five different languages, and each one had no way of knowing the style or strategy that the others used.

To be honest, I am best a lukewarm sports enthusiast, but today for  the first time in my life, all that changed.  I stood  there under the cloudless blue sky, as the soft breeze rustled the trees leaves.  The mountains, with their new multi-colored spring tree growth adorned the hillsides.  In this beautiful place of nature,  I looked at the eager and expectant group of kids and all I wanted was to see them WIN!

But as the opposing team stepped onto the field, it became clear that the odds were stacked against our students.  They were to play against a group of well-muscled men from a  seasoned soccer team.

I felt people jostling behind me.  Curious, I turned around to see that onlookers had left their comfortable places on the grass  and began ringing  the edge of the soccer field.  I heard voices murmuring, “Maya Jaguar, Maya Jaguar.”  “How strange, I thought, nobody knows anything about us, but they are repeating our name.”  It quickly became evident that they were rooting for our team!  We were the unknown dark horse and they were betting on the unknown.

Until this day, I had had no idea of the high level of skill it takes to play soccer well.  As the game began, I was astounded with the agility and lightening fast speed of the players.  They performed such feats such as twisting a leg behind and unexpectedly kicking the ball  high in the air and with amazing accuracy.  At one point, the team captain, Gaspar, shot off the ground like a human cannon ball, his head batting the ball with tremendous force across the field.   Manuel, normally our most playful and fun-loving student, turned deadly serious in his offensive moves, blocking, running, kicking the ball.  Without a doubt, he caught the other team off guard with his rapid twists and turns.

And then it happened!  I held my breath.  Antonio, our quiet and solemn boy postioned himself.  Everyone grew silent–the crowd, the opposing team, our kids.  Then–GOAL!  Our spectator students (me, too) screamed, “Maya Jaguar!  Maya Jaguar!  Va a ganar, va a ganar. (Maya Jaguar, Maya Jaguar, is going to win, is going to win).

They had pulled it off!  Twelve students from as many villages,  from  different language groups and cultural norms, had formed  a true unity through their beloved game of soccer!

What a proud day for the Maya Jaguar Center.  And for them.

Frances

Hello,

Yesterday,  I was reading  the course curriculum offered at our Mayan Center (15+ courses) and was reminded that our forestry class will undoubtedly be one of our most important.

Many people do not realize that the destruction of Guatemalan rainforests equals the speed of destruction of the Amazonian forests.  Moreover, the rainforests here are only second in  value to those in the Amazon.   Much has been written about this topic, but progress in stemming the vast denuding of the forests is indeed slow.  The slash and burn method used by the Mayan people is not only used grow their corn crops.  They are used to clear land to grow coffee.  If the coffee crops gave poor peasants  a decent income, one could perhaps find a rationale for this massive cutting of trees.  The fact is, it doesn´t.    Who gains?  The truckers gain.   The fertizer companies gain.   Certainly the coffee brokers gain handsomely.  And the government  fatten their coffers with export taxes.  And the people go hungry.

In my opinion, there exists a great myth in this region of Guatemala.  The government, companies, and nongovernmental organizations,  all urge the people to clear, clear, clear land and plant, plant, plant coffee.   Sometimes the world market price of coffee rises, but with the vast world competition of coffee, more than often, it doesn´t.   The poor campesino loses.

What to do?  The idea that coffee will make a person rich has been deeply embedded in the minds of the small farmers through exhortations over the  decades. Until that mind-set shifts,  forests will continue to fall  at a fast pace.

The thing is, there are options.  I am not saying that such a massive problem can be resolved, but at least it can be dimished.  Start small.  For instance, there is a great population living in 250 villages who spend their hard-earned money to travel to the only town in the region to buy their supplies.  They purchase near-rotting vegetables that have been  trucked in from great distances and sold at sky-high prices.  Why not use some of that precious land to grow vegetables to sell and barter?  Because the people believe there is only one thing to grow.  Coffee.

Secondly, land could be reforested.  New-growth trees have many uses–fuel, building materials, wood products.

These concepts are being put into practice by the Adopt-a-Village Mayan Center through our agricultural and forestry course.   Once students have learned the appropriate skills,  they will fan out to many surrounding villages to introduce and implement these new ideas. As students and sons and daughters of the people themselves, we believe their ideas will not just be accepted, but welcomed.

Adopt-a-Village is seeking funds to support these programs.  If you would like to donate, please go to our “How to Help” page or write to me at guatvillage.com.

I’m off to our mountain-top school.  More news next week.

Frances

Good morning from Guatemala,

After four and a half months absence from school, children lined up to enter their classroom today.   More than six weeks of this time is attributed to the long teachers strike.  Major highways were shut down due to protests on and off during this time, causing traffic to be blocked for hours.  Earlier this week, 75,000 teachers protested in front of the National Palace, sleeping under plastic sheets to escape the rain.  Part of their protest was that the government had not lived up to its 2009 agreement to provide teachers with the promised 8% raise.  As if the education system here is not bad enough, the children have now lost  over 20% of the school year.

This is just one more example of the poor education that Guatemalan children receive.   One-day vacations can extend into one week, as happens with Mother’s Day in some of the schools.  Teachers are constantly absent from giving classes due to an interminable amount of paperwork the government requires, or days-long absences due to meetings by the Department of Education in town.  Schools rarely have any books.  As such, teachers dictate their lessons for students to study at night.

These issues have negatively affected the students at our Mayan Center.   I know we have the best kids possible, but I feel so badly to see their ignorance in spelling, writing a sentence (let along an essay), and the inability to fully comprehend what they are reading.  We have a tough battle to overcome.

The good news is that our students are the most enthusiastic and eager to learn that I have every come across.  Yesterday, when class was due to close at 4:00 p.m., they exhorted their teacher to continue with his math lesson!

We also have the good fortune to have found capable teachers sincerely interested in educating their students.  Novel methods have already been introduced to help them overcome the deficiences in their past education, and the kids are more than up for whatever suggestion is proposed.  All teachers, whether they teach language and literature or not, are encouraging the kids to read, read, read.  We have a small collection of books for them to read at night and to take home with them.  Additionally, the teachers have split the students into small groups, so the learning opportunity is much more intense.  I have no doubt that with students and teachers such as we have, that the kids will overcome the type of education they received in past grades.

Adopt-a-Village continues to help in primary and middle schools.  Our Books Across Borders program that our donors so generously support means that these schools now have reading materials.  We are helping in the village of Monte Bello with school materials, books, a new blackboard and seeds for the school garden.  At the Rio Hermin middle school, where most children received scholarships from their sponsors,  we’ve supplied the school with manual typewriters, school materials, reference materials and books.  These students will have a head start when they enter high school.

I have lots of news to share with you,  so I expect to write again soon.

Frances

Hello again,

The earthquake hit at 3:00 a.m.   What at a frightening time to be jolted awake by such thundering noise and shuddering movement.  My bunk bed jolted side to side as it had suddenly gained the life of a bucking bull.   Listening to the tin roof clang and shake with such force, I thought it was surely about to  topple.   In my semi-consciousness, I pictured that several large animals, larger than jaguars, had jumped on top of the roof to shake it so. fiercely.  When I came out of that ridiculous half-dream, I realized the truth.  Earthquake!  I felt myself frantically searching for my flashlight, intending to get out of the house before it collapsed on top of me.  Then the shaking stopped.  But at 5:00 a.m., it began again…then another tremor at 9:00 a.m. and then a final one at 5:00 p.m.   Even the following day,  I felt jumpy.

Happily, I learned that there had been no major damage except on the roads.  Massive boulders had been dislodged by the earth’s movement.  Trees had been uprooted with some of them covering areas of the roads.  Our driver was sorely challenged getting back to Tres Ranchos on the narrow mountain road as he edged dangerously close to the precipes to manouver  the massive rocks.

Needless to say, I won’t be in any hurry to experience another of nature’s such punishments!

Frances

Dear readers,

I’d like to tell you about Luis, a Mayan boy I met some 17 years ago in the village of Quetzali.  Mr. and Mrs. Barsan of Medina, Ohio, were sponsoring the toddler at the time.  Luis’ story is just one example of how Adopt-a-Village sponsorship helps the children, especially with education.

One day, I found this little guy at my cabin doorstep.  His mother had died in childbirth, and whether it was because he had no mother, or was unusually small, or just plain shy, it was evident that he had no friends.  Luis was a lonely little soul and I felt badly for him and invited him to visit me whenever he wanted.  He began coming daily to play with the small toy cars I’d kept from my now-grown son’s toy chest.  Luis was quite content to play about my feet as I worked and seemed to have quietly “adopted’ me as his second mother.

Soon after, AAV’s second major project began—a much needed primary school. Our volunteers had worked for a year to raise the funds and now the fathers labored for several months with us to build it.  Meanwhile, Luis took great interest in the books and drawing materials I had given him. I made a rustic “desk,” nothing more than a wooden board placed on tree trunks teetering on the uneven ground below. With that unlikely furniture and paper and crayons, he began to turn out dozens of colorful drawings.  He was ready for schooling!   When school opened, Luis showed himself to be an avid student, although he continued to stay pretty much to himself.  After he graduated from sixth grade, AAV helped him attend middle school.  Then, with no more opportunities for additional education at that time, he moved to another village to work.

One day this past December, as the AAV scholarship committee was finalizing applicant interviews for high school entry, Luis appeared at the office doorstep—only a few feet from the from the door where I had first met him.  He had heard about our scholarship program.  As I gazed into Luis’ bright eyes, I saw a fine young man, transformed from his timid days.  He took his entry exams and won his scholarship!

As school began, I observed him taking the lead in organizing student projects.  He made it his job to make new students feel welcome.  He was voted to the Student Council and when he spoke at the first council meeting, he said, “I want us all to be friends.  I want us to work in unity and be part of one of the best schools in Guatemala.”

I am sharing this story with you because it echoes many similar stories over the years.   Hundreds of Mayan children have received primary and middle schooling because of our sponsors.  Now, we usher in a new era.  Despite countless challenges and seemingly impossible hurdles, AAV has implemented an unrivalled educational concept in Central America—one that combines academic, vocational, and practical community education that will open up job opportunities and to give students, their families, and their community members, a better future.

Thank you again for sharing in our vision, for sponsoring a Mayan child, and for making it possible for children to become educated and have a better life. 

Sincerely

Frances

Hello,

As I was leaving the villages, I received some heartening news.  One of our sponsored children, seven-year-old Brigidito, had spent the last three months earning small amounts of money to help a more impoverished family than his.  He had now reached his goal.  With his proudly earned $23.57, he had gone to town with his father  to buy food for a widow and her six young children.

His father, who had taken corn to the family on several occasions, had talked to his young son about how the poor family lived.  When Brigidito arrived with his gift of rice, beans, salt, sugar, and soap, he saw firsthand an example of the extreme poverty that exists in this area of Guatemala.  He found the children wearing  tattered clothing, shoeless, and only a handful or so of corn that would serve as tortillas for dinner. The small crude hut in which the family lived consisted of a palm roof  (that constantly leaked from the rain), sticks tied together with tree vines to serve as walls, and a muddy floor where the mother cooked over an open fire. 

Brigidito had worked for these past few months washing his dad’s truck, picking up  garbage and doing extra tasks in the house to earn his money.  But he could see that his job was not done.  Observing the T-shirt of one of the young boys, riddled with holes, he whispered solemnly to his dad,  ”I have to buy him a shirt, Dad.”   It’s amazing what big hearts little children have, isn’t it?

Good wishes to all,

Frances

Good Morning dear readers,

Yesterday–a cold, rainy day– I left the Mayan Jaguar school, but with happy memories. I remember my last day in class–the air was charged with the  high energy enamating from the students. Putting one of our key concepts in process–that they play an integral pa in the management of the school has sparked a flow of ideas they have been presenting.

The students first request is for a field trip to a volcanic lake situated in a great protected forest, about a two-hour hike from the school. The lake contains freshwater shrimp and the kids hope to make a good catch. The school’s forestry professor will lead the trip, and a local guide will be along to identify birds, trees, and edible plants. The kids plan to bring back some of those plants for their dinner.

I shall to be back in the States by Friday and will be in the office and available for any inquiries before I leave again in two weeks for Guatemala. I look forward to hearing from you.

Frances

Two days ago, I arrived at the school campus just as lunch was breaking up. As the pick-up truck slowed to a stop, one of the students came running down the hill toward us, waving his arms wildly. It was Cesar, easy to identify with his cheeky grin. As I opened the truck door, he was shouting, “Good afternoon! Good afternoon!” And said with hardly a trace of a Spanish accent! Behind him, all the other students lined up to greet me with “Good afternoon,” proud of of their success in learning some basic English over the past few days.

It wasn’t all they had learned. As we met in the school room, I was astonished to hear the student council president report on how the group had organized themselves. Their leadership skills were already in full swing. Luis, a high-energy kid, had prepared a daily task list, jobs that were assigned to each student on a revolving basis. According to the school cook, Luis had taken charge of the kitchen duties, rising before dawn to grind corn for the tortillas, forming the masa in a press, and then cooking and turning the tortillas on the stove. Three others had been assigned to assist him. Others cleaned the chicken coup, gave them an “outing” for a bit to peck at the grasses, and of course collected the fresh eggs . Others chopped wood, cleaned the school, and tended to the goats.

At the meeting, one of the topics turned to food, specifically food that the mountain offered for the taking. The kids rattled off a list of a dozen foods, including greens, root vegetables, and fruits. I could see that it wouldn’t be long before they would be scouting the forest to discover something exotic to add to their diet of beans and tortillas.

Perhaps the best part of all was to hear the pride in their voices as they talked about beautifying their school by planting trees and flowers, removing unsightly stumps and keeping the grass cut. And then, there was sports. Mayan kids love to play soccer, basketball and volley ball. They described how they could make a volleyball net using trees vines. “Just buy us the ball,” pleaded Gaspar, vice-president of the group, we will do the rest.” One volley ball coming up!

Frances

Hello!

Some of you have been waiting anxiously to hear news of the school’s inauguration fiesta. Well! First of all, I have to say I was simply amazed. I knew the kids and the teachers had been working all day to make everything beautiful but I could not have imagined at what they accomplished Multi-colored banners fluttered from center point of the school roof and ended on the ground on four corners. I was reminded one of the “four cardinal points of the earth” which relates back to Mayan mytholodgy. And there, wonders of wonders, appeared a freshly-made wooden stage on the school ground, looking as if it had dropped out of the sky! It too was wonderfully decorated in all colors of the rainbow. On stage, the marimba band had already struck up and would continue to play into the early morning hours.

As we waited for the village dignitaries, the kids and I rushed in to set the tables. All the classroom had been decorated with streamers and paper flowers, and this room was no exception. Bright green and yelow paper covered the tables an it was hard to think there could be a most festive table.

After speeches, everyone happily dug into a meal, a rare treat for our Mayan guests, grilled steak, rice and mountains of tortillas. The marimbistas took a break to eat too, and then played non-stop until three in the morning.

So, it was a grand party and a wonderful beginning to the school work of the next day. (Yes, despite the 3:a.m. closing, the kids really were up bright and early to begin school!

Frances

Hello everyone!

These past few days have been the most exciting that I can remember in AAV’s history!  Our long-held vision is now a reality–our Mayan Center school is in its second day of operation.  Our students are already immersed in classes and projects.  They arrived on a frigid day, and I trekked to the dormitory area with them, anxious to see their reaction to seeing their little cabins.  There was no assigning cabins, not even time to assign!  They ran from cabin to cabin, deciding which one they preferred.  (They are all identical!)  What was surpising to me is that without a couple of minutes, they had paired themselves off (two to a cabin).  Inside they found the solar lights that had been installed the day before by volunteers from Florida, their cots, small study tables and chair.

The next morning, the sun was shining and their group met outside under the trees.  Thirty-five percent of the students are girls, a much higher percentage than I had hoped for.  And most striking was their ability to voice their thoughts and opinions in the meeting.  They were considerably more vocal than the boys.  Before I arrived to join them, two students had taken the lead in planning their first work project.  (Every student is responsible for two hours a day in maintence, i.e., making tortillas, tending the chickens, cutting firewood).  For each task, there were ready volunteers.

It was a grand first day.  I tried to imagine what they were thinking.  What would I be thinking at the age of 15 to find myself on top of a remote mountain, keeping warm in a small cabin, trekking down the mountainside the rustic kitchen for hot tortillas and beans.  One of the girls related, “I woke up in the morning, not realizing where I was.  I looked outside to see the circle of cabins and to hear the birds singing, and I was so glad to be here!”

–Frances

Hello again,

On Tuesday morning, not long after dawn, a shivering group of students and parents arrived at our home base in Quetzali.   A meeting had been planned to give further information on our educational programs, and to provide time for the parents to give their children a last goodbye.  As I explained the school’s philosophy, I was struck at how eager the parents were to comment.  I could see their worries and concerns slipping away, as they related stories of their youth.  Those had been years of severe hardship, of no hope for education, and desperate attempts to escape with their children to Mexico during the war’s massacres of their villages.  Now, they were entrusting their children to us, a major sacrifice in light of how tightly woven family ties are here.  Several parents insisted on accompanying their children to the Mayan Center.  There simply was not enough room to transport all the students plus parents in one pick-up truck. It didn’t matter, they were deetermined to see where we were taking their children.  As luck would have it, we found a second vehicle, and we all set off.  It struck me how caring and protective the parents were toward their children.  Upon inspecting the school and dormitory cabins, their relief was obvious and they left with the promise to see their children again at the inauguration on Sunday.

More to come another day!
Frances

Greetings from the village of Quetzali.

A few days ago, three stalwart volunteers, Allen Langford, Harry Blenker, and Dave Synder, all from south Florida, arrived with state-of-the art portable solar power units in their suitcases, a unit for every student cabin at the Mayan Center.  They had dragged into town that night, after traveling from Guatemala City at 6:00 a.m.  Among their adventures, the vehicle broke down. (Of course!) The driver caught a ride to a town 60 miles away to get a part in order to repair it.  Finally fixed, our friends struck off for the worst of the trip.  Heavy rains had caused boulders to loosen from the mountains, transforming the already rough road into an obstacle course.  Add to that mud and more mud, and the deep ravines below.

However, the next day the recovered  trio traveled to the Mayan Center over more bad road, and upon arriving, tackled the job of installing the solar units, just in time for the students’ arrival.  Once again, our volunteers make the difference!

–Frances