February 5, 2009

Since this was to be my last full day in Guatemala, I decided to allow myself to play “tourist” for part of the morning. It was “market day” in Antigua, and I took the opportunity to “comparison shop” for items I knew I would need to purchase when I move down. As much as I hate shopping in the States, and even avoid the “tourist market” in Antigua, I have to admit I love the activity of market day in the municipal market. These are mostly open air stalls, with everything from flowers, to peppers, to pots and pans, to towels. No organization, no rhyme or reason to where things are located, so just walking through it is an adventure. I was so proud, too, that I have been here often enough now that for the first time I did not get lost among the twists and turns among stands that all pretty much look the same. I did break down and buy myself a new wallet, and a “cup and ball” game for my grandson.
Mostly I just walked and looked and soaked up the atmosphere. Many of the stands sell food, and the smell of “barbeque” filled the market. I managed to control myself and not eat any of the “street food” Mari had warned me about.

When I’d had my fill of shopping, I headed to Hermano Pedro. As I entered the courtyard Moises and Sonya called out from the therapy room and hollered “Paty”. It felt so good to be recognized. As I write this, I realize that it’s the same for these kids. They sit, day after day, waiting for someone to recognize them, acknowledge their value, call them by name. We who have so much freedom and so many friends take this for granted. For the children and adults in this orphanage, love and attention is the greatest gift we can bring.

I hunted through the dormitory to find Lionel. For some reason, they seem to keep moving his bed to a different place each day. He still was a bit congested, but again, I was allowed to take him outside. We were immediately joined by Moises, who seems to have “adopted” Lionel since he moved downstairs. The small smiles I got from Lionel were nothing compared to his belly laughs when Moi played with him. The tenderness Moi shows for this little one is beautiful. He has his own ministry here, looking out for and welcoming the new kids.

Though it was still morning, it seems a lot of the kids were already back in their beds (assuming they had ever gotten out of them in the first place). After playing with and feeding Lionel, I made the rounds of the beds to visit each of the kids. I wished I could have taken each of them out for a while, but knew if I did I would not get to say good-bye to all of them. I decided a little attention for each would trump a bit of freedom for a few today. Again, I was surprised that a number of them knew my name, and many seemed to recognize me. Again, I realized the value of just being with the kids, loving on them, showing them they are important. I’d like to think that I’d done something for them, but in reality, they have given me much more than I could ever give them. They have made me a better person by becoming part of my life.


After helping feed a number of kids supper, it was time for me to head home for my last night with the Hernandez family. I wasn’t prepared for the tears that began to flow as I walked away from the area housing the children. I can’t imagine what the people in the halls thought of this crazy “gringa” crying her eyes out, but I really didn’t care. Each tear confirmed for me that I really do belong here.

February 4, 2009

Again, this morning, we were back in the clinic with Silsa and her mom. Am learning much about patience and perseverance through this clinic experience. After waiting about an hour and a half to see the doctor, the news was that Silsa needed to see a specialist, and would need to return March 24th when one would be available. I was disappointed that they did not even give her any medication to help with the seizures. So Dick will be bringing her and her mom back down again next month. I was once again impressed by the matter-of-fact way in which Sylvestra accepted this news, saying only she was grateful that her daughter would get to see a doctor! Oh, how I complain when my doctor at home makes me wait 15 extra minutes to be seen!



















With this taken care of, the families and Dick were ready to head back to La Libertad. It was so hard to say good bye to each of them. I dissolved into tears when Sr. Perez thanked me for all I’d done (which really wasn’t much) and promised to pray for me. The kind hearts of these folks continue to overwhelm me. So after hugs and kisses from the families, and a sarcastic remark or two from Dick, they were on their way. And I pray I will see them again when I return. I fear, though, that I may never see Lisvi again until we meet in heaven.

Since I would not be meeting Pastor Julio’s family until one, I still had time to play with the kids. Lionel seemed to have a lot of congestion in his chest, and I wanted to make sure one of the doctors checked him over, so he was my first stop. I was surprised when the nurses let me take him outside, but he really enjoyed it, even if he was a bit subdued. The doctor decided that most of what we were hearing was in his throat, rather than his chest, and wasn’t too concerned. I’ll be sure to check on him tomorrow.

Poor Ervin has some kind of skin eruption, so is stuck in his bed (at least this time there’s a legitimate reason). He knows I’m a sucker for taking him out, and it’s hard to listen to his cries as I can’t even touch him for fear of spreading his infection to the others. I wouldn’t feel so badly except I know Dick will be gone for the next few days, and Ervin will probably spend most of his day cooped up in the crib he hates. This makes me more determined than ever to return, if only for him.


After helping to feed a few kids, it was time to meet Pastor Julio’s family across from the cathedral in Central Park. As I waited, I was offered numerous tours of the city, shoe shines, and taxi rides. It was fun to just sit and people watch for a few minutes. Soon, Julio’s son Arturo and his wife Lily arrived to take me to their home in a small town about 20 minutes outside of Antigua. I have known this family for about four years now, stayed at their home, eaten at their table, and worshipped in their church. They are my second “Guatemalan family.”







This reunion was a sad one, however. The gangs in the area have been demanding bribes or threatening to kill Lily and Arturo’s three children. There is a long story behind this, but, unfortunately this happens to families all too often in Guatemala. The worst thing you can do is pay these criminals anything, and unfortunately, the family had done just that in the past. So the extortion demands keep coming, each time for greater amounts. This last demand was absolutely outrageous. In fear for his safety, Dennis, the 13 year old son, has been sent to a military school near the Honduran border. The two girls, Wanda, who is 11, and Genesis, who is 9 are living as virtual prisoners in their own home. Their father takes them to and from school, and they go no where else.

Even amid these dire circumstances though, we enjoyed catching up on each others lives. The congregation is building a new church building, and it is fun to see the progress they have made on it. Each trip it is a little more complete. The men of the church spend their Sundays worshipping God through their work, and are so proud to show off what they have done! Julio told me they are planning to be done with it in March. (Since this is Guatemala, it remains to be seen March of what year!)

Over a wonderful dinner prepared by Lily and Julio’s wife, Amelia, we talked of my plans to move to Guatemala. The entire family is so excited, and really wanted me to give them a date I would be down. I explained it would be in God’s time, but I believe that time is coming, hopefully in January of 2010. A long discussion followed as to where I should live. They adamantly offered me the rooms above the old church, free of charge, saying I would really be one of their family then! They even pointed out that my children might feel better about me moving down if I had a family to watch over me. With all this family is facing, their willingness to take me in is humbling. Once again, I saw people in almost impossible circumstances reaching out with concern for me. I don’t know that I have ever felt as loved as I do by my two Central American families! How blessed I am!

February 3, 2009

Early this morning I met our friends at Hermano Pedro. The Perez family was in the pediatric clinic upstairs, while Silsa and her mom were waiting to see the doctor downstairs. I found myself somewhat uncertain of the rules and procedures of the clinics, and I can only imagine how lost these folks felt. There was no doubt in my mind that I would spend the day learning how to navigate the clinic system here. I was so glad when Dick appeared, and I could ask all my “stupid” questions without fear of being made fun of. (Well, this is sort of true. At least no one else would understand him making fun of me because he only can do it in English!)

As I sat with Lisvi’s family upstairs, I realized that these people had become my friends. I naturally became part of the rotation of holding Lisvi, and was grateful for how comfortable the family had become with me. Their patience during this long wait, never becoming the least bit irritable, was amazing.

While we were waiting for the doctor, Dick called me from the clinic downstairs. Silsa needed to go to a hospital on the other side of town, and I would accompany her and her mom. So we loaded, once again, into Dick’s car and went to the “other” Hermano Pedro Hospital. This one seems to be more designed for acute care. Silsa needed a CAT scan, and I was pleasantly surprised at how modern the equipment was, and how professional and competent the staff members were. Again, though, the wait was agonizingly long, though neither Silsa nor Sylvestra complained. This gave me a chance to visit with and get to know this family, so it was time well spent. After about two and a half hours, Dick returned and we went back to the “first” Hermano Pedro. We would return after lunch to pick up the test results.

While we had been gone, Lisvi had seen the doctor. He had been willing to admit her to the malnutrition ward, but, as we had expected, her parents could not bear to part with her. They took a quick tour of the malnutrition ward with Dick, but were resolute in their desire to take their little one home. They did, however, receive nutritional counseling and supplements which may help her gain some weight. How long she will live is in God’s hands alone, but, as Dick reminded me, she is well loved, and that may be what she needs the most.

After this intensely emotional morning, we decided we needed a break and would take some of the kids to Pollo Campero. Ben and Andy joined us so we set off with Moises, Elmer, Minor and David. This was just the therapy we needed! The kids love to go out, they love to eat even more, and their joy in this excursion lifted our spirits. I didn’t even become discouraged when Elmer started to tantrum on me when it was time to go. It was a bigger challenge, however, to keep my cool at Dick and Carlos taunting me about not being able to “keep that kid quiet.” Once again, the children I can handle, it’s the ADULTS who challenge my patience!

After retrieving Silsa’s test results, we discovered that the doctor she needed to see was in the clinic only until noon. She would have to return tomorrow. With this news, it was decided that tomorrow Dick would once again travel north with both families, so they would not have to tackle a “chicken bus” with Lisvi and Silsa. I would stay in Antigua and spend more time with the kids at Hermano Pedro and other friends in the area.

I was more than a little discouraged at the thought of Lisvi returning home, but really did understand her parents’ refusal to leave her. Would I leave my child in an strange hospital, with people I didn’t know, and travel to my home 8 hours away? Not on your life. And at least we knew these good people would do everything they could to keep Lisvi alive. What more could we ask?

February 2, 2009

I woke up this morning feeling a bit under the weather, so Dick and Fernando went to pick up the other family we would be taking to Antigua, and let me sleep in. This also gave the Perezes time to just hang around at the hotel, rather than spending two more hours in the car.

Fernando took some pictures for me when they picked up Silsa and her mother Sylvestra. Silsa is a beautiful, shy young lady of 13 who, about six months ago, lost the strength in her legs. She also began having severe seizures. She would be coming with us to find out if the doctors at Hermano Pedro could figure out what is wrong with her, and give medication to control the seizures. Her family has already spent all their money on local “doctors” who have not helped Silsa, and now refuse to see her because the money has run out.

So, eight of us piled in the Land Cruiser and headed back to Antigua. And, after some of the roads we’ve been on the last few days, the traveling seemed easy. We even stopped for dinner at a “steak house” near Tecpan. I was so excited, because I actually recognized this as a place we’d eaten on my last trip to Guatemala. This stop broke up the trip nicely.

When we arrived in Antigua, we went straight to Hermano Pedro to sign in the girls to see the doctors in the morning. Dick was also able to get accommodations for the two families at Casa de Fe, where they could spend the night free of charge. This hostel was full of people who would be seen at the various clinics the next morning. After dropping the families off, we then attempted to drive to the home where I was staying. Since I walk, and do not pay attention to one way streets, this was somewhat of a challenge. Fernando, once again, came to the rescue and navigated us directly to my door. After all I’d experienced the last five days, I was ready for some solitude and a good night’s rest!

February 1, 2009

We were joined this morning by Roland’s friend, Amanda and some of her children. She had some folks in the area who she wanted us to visit to see what we could do for them. This lady has lost her husband, has four children to care for, and yet asks nothing for herself, only for those who are ill. I am coming to realize that this compassion is not unusual among the very poor people in Guatemala, but is the norm. They are constantly looking for ways they can help each other.

At breakfast, Dick proposed that we ask Roland to call Lisvi’s family one more time. This is a delicate decision, because generally, no means no, and we want to maintain good relationships with the people in this area. We can’t afford to come across as “know-it-all” North Americans. All of us have prayed during the night about this situation, and the three of us felt peace at making this call. We decided to call Dad, and make sure he understood that they could come with us, see a doctor, but it would then be solely their decision as to whether or not Lisvi would stay at the hospital. I don’t know if it was this reassurance, or the compassion with which Roland made the call, but he walked back to us beaming. The family would be coming after all.

This will change our plans slightly. We had planned on heading back to Antigua today. With the time it would take us to pick up the Perez family, we would need to stay in Huehue another night. Not one of us, even Fernando who would now miss a day of school, seemed to mind. Roland, however, needs to be back in Xela in the morning. He is more than happy to take the bus tonight.

So after breakfast, we set off on our visits. Our first stop took much longer than we had anticipated. At this home, there was no need of a wheelchair. Rather, there was a very ill young man, Estaban Roberto Cruz Alfaro who lives with his mother Rosalina. This young man was in kidney failure. Twice a week he needs to go by bus to Guatemala City for dialysis. Since the trip to the city would take us about six hours by car, I can’t imagine making that trip on the bus. Especially with the weakened condition Estaban would be in before dialysis. The family had been paying 1000 Q for each dialysis session (approximately $130 US). Even for an uninsured family in the States, this would be a lot of money. For a family in northwest Guatemala, this is an impossibility.

Amanda had hoped there was something we could do to help. Dick explained that this was beyond the scope of his ministry, but promised to post the need in his blog. He said that if someone responded, wanting to help provide for this dialysis, he would immediately let them know. It seemed a small hope, but, with our God, there is no small hope. As Thomas Merton once wrote, God does not expect us to be successful, only faithful to what he calls us to do. So now the need is known.

A beautiful part of this visit was to see Fernando playing with the children in the family. He has worked so hard translating on this trip, that it was good for him to have time to be a kid. Even as a kid, though, he has one of the most generous hearts of anyone I’ve ever met. I’d given him a deck of cards this morning, and he, in turn, gave them to the children in this family. Fernando is not a child who has much himself, but frequently gives, not of his excess, but his best to others. After Amanda explained that the other families she would like us to visit were also in need of medical treatment, rather than wheelchairs, we all decided that Dick and Roland would visit them on their next trip up north. We needed to get to Lisvi’s home and return down the mountain before dark. The roads there were treacherous enough in broad daylight. None of us wanted to try them in the dark.

Sr. Perez would be waiting for us in the town of La Libertad and direct us to their home. The only problem was, none of us had ever met him, so we didn’t know who we were looking for, other than that he would be wearing a large white cowboy hat. Only about 90% of the men in the town wore them, so that was a big help. Through Roland’s excellent phone negotiations skills, however, we met him with little difficulty and were off for the home.

Their house turned out to be in one of the most beautiful areas I’ve ever visited in Guatemala. Their home was stucco, and they had a number of out buildings, as well as a variety of animals. This family is not rich, but they seem to be doing better than many of the families in the area. So lack of food did not explain Lisvi’s starving condition.

It was immediately apparent, too, that her condition was not due to lack of care. Upon entering the house, we found Lisvi sitting in an “infant seat” which her father had made for her. She was right next to the stove where she could see all the action in the kitchen. In many ways, she seemed to be the center of attention. I began to realize the sacrifice this family was making even taking her to the hospital to be examined. This child is well loved, both by Mom, and, it seems, especially by Dad.

We were informed that Francisca (mom) was preparing lunch for us. Since it was not yet ready, Sr. Perez showed us around their ranch. Roland explained that this area was a bit more “affluent” because the land was so fertile in this area. Even in the middle of the dry season, everything was wonderfully green. As in other homes we had visited, this family could not do enough for us. Fernando and Amanda’s son mentioned that they would like to “sled” down the steep hillside, and Sr. Perez immediately produced a board, pulled out the nails stuck in it, and helped the boys do just that. When the board did not work out well, he went and found a burlap sack which proved to be a more than adequate “sled.”

After lunch, we reluctantly left for Huehue where we would spend the night. We still had to get Roland to the bus station, take Amanda and her son home, and get supper for ourselves. I rode in the back seat with the Perez family, and got much Spanish practice as I learned about their life and their family. Lisvi, was not their first child with malnutrition (and probably cerebral palsy). They had already lost two other daughters to starvation despite their best attempts to care for them. They did not really seem hopeful that anything could be done for Lisvi, but they needed to do what they could to help her. The tenderness with which they cared for her, gently passing her back and forth on this difficult drive, brought tears to my eyes. When they finally trusted me to hold her, the tears overflowed.

As I held her, I couldn’t help but think of my almost 30 lb., two and a half year old grandson back home. As I prayed over Lisvi, I also prayed in gratitude for Zach’s health which I too often take for granted. And, as I struggle with the contrast between these two precious children, I had to remind myself that God loves each of them unconditionally. His ways are surely not my ways. . .