Time with Herlindo

I’ve been involved, along with Dick, in trying to find out exactly what is going on with Herlindo’s (Rony’s brother) health.  I’m borrowing Dick’s and Daryl’s journals about our experiences during the time he spent with us in Antigua/Chimaltenango. . .

Dick writes:

A good part of my time has been spent running back and fourth to and from the home of Ronny's family. Ronny who had muscular dystrophy passed away about 2 months ago and although his family seems to be going on with their lives Ronny's death has still left some scars. Mom and dad are aware that all 3 of Ronny's younger brothers have the possibility of having muscular dystrophy as well so they are rightfully worried.

Herlindo in my (Pat’s) yard playing with one of the pups

Arlindo who is 8 years old is there biggest concern because that is exactly how old Ronny was when he was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy. Although Arlindo has lost some of his appetite and often falls asleep in school, his muscle tone is good and Pat and I are pretty much convinced that he does not have muscular dystrophy. We feel that he is going through a bit of depression over loosing his brother and hearing Mom and dad continually talk about the fact that they think that he has muscular dystrophy is making things much worse.

A few days ago I asked if it would be OK if Arlindo came to my house and spent a few days. I wanted to observe first hand how he was doing and I wanted to get him in to see a doctor and have a good checkup.

During the 5 days that Arlindo has been with me I have not seen any of the things that mom and dad had told us. Arlindo has been sleeping well at night, his apatite has been great (even though he has been eating my cooking) and he has had lots of energy. I think that he my be a bit anemic though so I have started him on some good vitamins.

Mom with her other 2 sons

Although both Pat and I are convinced that he does not have muscular dystrophy we still felt that it would be a good idea to have him go in to Hermano Pedro for a physical examination. Although the results of the blood tests and a few other tests have not yet come back the doctor is convinced that Arlindo does not have muscular dystrophy. We are praying that his parents will now be convinced as well and not keep telling their son that they fear that he has a disease that would likely take his life within a few years.



Although some of the tests were not the most pleasant for Arlindo or myself (I don't really enjoy taking stool samples) he had a great time while he was here and he and my kids had a great time playing together. When we brought him back to his house yesterday it was not easy for any of us to say goodbye. We did make a promise to the 5 kids that attend school that we would return once they get their report cards and if they were good that Pat would take the 4 girls to her house and that I would let Arlindo come back to my house for a weekend.

   Daryl and Wanda Fulp with one of   
                  Arlindo's sisters

It is a bit against my better judgment to post journals that are not 100% accurate but after much arm twisting Daryl Fulp convinced me to publish his rendition of yesterday's events. I am sure that on reading the following you will soon become aware that not everything that Daryl says is true but than again what can you expect from a missionary.
                                                                         Dick

Much of what Daryl has learned about blogging, including the license to exaggerate, he’s learned from Dick, so I really don’t know what Dick’s worried about~~Pat

Daryl wrote,

In addition to our normal work and ministry, on Wednesday Wanda and I were able to journey over toward the coast with Dick Rutgers and Pat Duff. During that afternoon we experienced a temperature increase of about 15 degrees as we dropped in elevation. By the time we reached our destination things were plenty hot and humid, and this is not even the hot time of year. In addition to the heat we were also exposed to the back and forth verbal bantering between Dick and Pat. Dick had “forgotten” his hearing aids, although I wonder if it wasn’t by design so he could pretend not to listen to Pat. Meanwhile Pat kept trying to prevent Dick from talking while she was attempting to translate:

Pat: “I can only listen to one person at a time!”

Dick: “No Problem, Just make sure it’s me!”

  Our first stop was at the home of
  Gabriel. He is eight years old and has
  Spina Bifida. His back has never been
  repaired, so this little guy has a large
  mass on his back that prevents him
  from sitting up with firm back support.
  Dick delivered a new wheelchair and
  fitted it with a back pad that is
  positioned higher, allowing the lump to
  fit underneath. This chair also has the
  benefit of folding easily as his family
  takes him to physical therapy each
  week. This journey is actually a nearly  
  two hour trip one way on a crowded chicken bus, so a folding chair is a great asset to them. We were blessed to meet this wonderful family!

From there we delivered Herlindo (Dick: Daryl spells Arlindo a bit differently than I do but it is the same kid.) (Come to think of it everyone spells things differently than I do?) to his home. Herlindo is the younger brother of Ronnie who passed away in February of Muscular Dystrophy. Herlindo had been showing some weakness and weight loss, and his mom was concerned that these were the early signs of MD. Dick picked him up and kept him for five days so that he could take him to Hermano Pedro for testing. I am pleased to report that he is free of MD. While they are still waiting on a few test results, the general consensus seems to be that he is still depressed from losing his big brother, to whom he was very close. After a few days with Dick he seemed much happier and was eating like a horse!

When we took him home we were able to meet his brothers and sisters. There are seven children remaining, including Herlindo. While there, Wanda got to hold some little ones so that made the entire trip for her!

Then we traveled through the town of La Gomera where we delivered a load of vitamins to a medical clinic and picked-up wheelchair applications. At this point, it was after 3:00 pm and we still had not eaten lunch, so we stopped at a roadside chicken place for a quick bite to eat. The food was good and there were some tables under an awning, so it was a welcome stop. By the time we had eaten and left we all felt renewed.

It was great afternoon together. I saw that Pat has finally gotten used to Dick’s driving as I saw no tears and heard no screams.

Dick: Daryl had evidently left both his glasses and his hearing aid at home.   Truth is, I was too busy praying~~Pat

However, I think maybe Wanda has become a Catholic as I believe I saw her cross herself a few times as she sat in the back. (Now that I think about it, I think she started that around the time I started driving here.) In reality, everyone felt better when Dick let Herlindo ride in his lap and steer.

Dick: The only reason that they felt better was because I first offered to let Daryl drive but he didn't think that he would fit on my lap, and Wanda said that she wasn't sure that she could find the right buss to take home.

When we returned back home we dropped Pat off at her apartment in Antigua and Dick came back to our house. He needed a break and a place to do some journaling so he spent last night upstairs. I just realized that I should probably go check on him to make sure he is not wandering around lost. I think I saw him carrying his GPS around the house last night.

Dick: Daryl's guest bathroom is larger then my entire house. This may sound disgusting but his bathroom is located inside of his house.

Blessings from Guatemala!

Daryl, Wanda, and the Fulps

Thanks Daryl (I think?) : Dick

April 1, 2011 (There’s no April Fool’s Day in Guatemala!)

Michelle on her first “tuk-tuk” ride

This morning I went to the Guatemala City airport to meet Michelle Hogg.  She arrived a bit late (due to the need to de-ice her plane in Houston!), but none the worse for her trip.  Michelle is a speech pathologist from Lexington, Kentucky, who wanted to come down for a week and work with us over her spring break.  It always gives me great joy when someone wants to spend their vacation working with us.

I had not met Michelle before, but felt completely at home with her before we even were out of the airport traffic.  I was so happy to have someone to bounce ideas off of, and someone who had more insight into communication disorders than I did.  It promises to be a good week.

Not wasting any time, after we arrived at Mari’s, got Michelle’s baggage settled in her room, and ate a quick lunch, we left to introduce Michelle to the kids at Hermano Pedro.  It was great fun introducing her to each of the kids, and I had particular questions for her about many of them.  It astounded me that she was not totally overwhelmed by all this after her long journey, but she was a great sport about it all, and gave me some valuable insights into the kids.

  We arrived back at Mari’s just
  in time to accompany her and
  Father Enrique to
  a “velacion”  at the church in
  Santa Ana.  Each weekend
  during lent, a different church
  holds a “street fair” and a
  Biblical display in their
  church.  I couldn’t help but
  think of this as a “Fish Fry
  Guatemalan Style” with a little bit of a religious slant.  The display in the church was of the Resurrection, and it was incredible how many people could pack into the place to see it.

 

After visiting the display, we went outside where we ate our share of street food.  Mari has given me some tips to doing this with a reasonable amount of safety, and she often knows people who are selling food at these festivals.  Tonight we ate a luscious sandwich of sliced hotdogs grilled with onions, and topped with tomatoes, mayonnaise and more onions.  I think this was the first hotdog I’ve eaten here in Guatemala and it was yummy.  We also ate corn on the cob (Father and Mari ate theirs “loco” style with mayonnaise, ketchup and mustard—yuck; Michelle and I settled for the less traditional, but tamer topping of “limon y sal” (lime and salt).

Though I have to admit I enjoyed the crowd and chaos of this annual celebration, I think one “velacion” a year will be more than enough to satisfy my exploration of this Guatemalan tradition.

Homelessness Hits Home

A homeless man sleeping under my guest room window

Permit me today to process a confusing situation as I share it with you.  Since I by no means have the answer to this dilemma, I welcome your feedback and comments. You can use the comment section, or email me directly.

Today, as I left the house to meet Michelle at Mari’s for breakfast, I encountered a new experience—a man sleeping outside my house.  As I stood locking the front gate, I wondered how I should respond.  Often  these men who sleep the streets are sleeping off what they have drunk the night before, yet they have no where to go but the streets.  I stood wondering, “What would Jesus do?”

And I have to admit that I couldn’t find an easy answer to that.  Jesus did not, from what I read in Scripture, heal EVERY crippled or ill person He encountered.  He did not feed EVERYONE who was hungry.  He didn’t provide the wine for EVERY meal.  So how did He know when to do these things? And how do I know when to help?

I came up with two answers, First, He was so in touch with the Father and Holy Spirit that He simply KNEW when to act and when not to.  The second answer is more profound, but also perhaps more tricky.  I believe He worked miracles to show the glory of God. (John 9:3)

So how do I apply this to my situation? 

First, is God telling me to help the person before me?  My goal is to love each person God brings me.  Loving best does not always mean helping materially.  Is responding to a particular need the most loving thing to do for that person? 

I need to ask God, listen for HIS answer, and not listen to my emotions.  I have a missionary friend, Daryl Fulp, who often says, “Intelligence without compassion is deadly.  So is compassion without intelligence.”  The intelligence I seek is the wisdom that comes from hearing God.  So I must stay in touch with His voice, know how to recognize this.  I can only do this through intimate time spent with Him daily, not just fly-by prayers when I need direction. 

In this situation, I really believe my emotion at finding a man outside my own door, over-road any direction from God.  Usually, when God leads me to help, it is hard to think of a good reason not to, His call is so strong.

Secondly, would this act of compassion bring glory to God, or make me feel better?  It’s not about making myself feel generous and righteous—it’s about glorifying God.  I know Jesus tells us to feed Him in the poor (Matt. 25: 31-45), but I don’t think this implies every time we encounter someone in need.  It would seem to imply only that we do these things in His name.  How would putting a sandwich and bottle of water next to a sleeping man bring God glory?  Honestly, I think it would only make me feel better about all I have, and how I use what I have to help others. 

This is a tricky part of ministry.  Often, when I help in my own name, I feel “relief” and even pride—”See, God, how I am helping you with Your work on earth.” When I help as God leads, I feel peace and a sense of satisfaction. "Thank you, Father, for letting me be a part of what you are doing here on earth.”  I strive for the latter, but fear too often I fall into the former.  I concluded that this might bring glory to me, but probably not God except if I act in obedience to His direction.

(I did think briefly about putting together water bottles with the gospel message [like those offered by Thirst No More ministries in the States], but then realized that almost all street people here are illiterate.  Besides, how much impact would just a static label have? I think the biggest impact of the Thirst No More water is that when it is personally given to someone.  I am gonna chew on this idea a little more in the future, though.  Maybe this could be done in coordination with the feeding program for the homeless either in our church at Christmas or the on-going program at the dump.)

I also thought of other Scriptures in which we are told repeatedly to care for widows and orphans. (This is how I have come to handle the many street beggars—I give to the older women who really do have no other way to support themselves.)

But my final realization as I pondered this was that God has not called me to Guatemala to feed every poor person I meet.  I may do this, but in conjunction with God’s call to me to work with the disabled, or perhaps in coordination with another ministry with which I collaborate.  I have been repeated admonished by more experienced missionaries of the need to stay focused on what God has called us to do, rather than doing shot-gun ministry to every need that comes along.  Failure to do this will leave us depleted, both monetarily and personally.

So, could I just walk away in indifference?  As a Christ-follower, I believe in the power of prayer to impact lives.  So, as this man lay sleeping on the sidewalk, I stopped and prayed for him.  And the more I prayed, the more I was convicted that THIS was why God brought this man to my door.  So I will continue to pray, and maybe, one day, perhaps in heaven, God will show me the result of my prayer.

Kids and Camperos

I know we very often take some of the kids from the orphanage to Pollo Campero for lunch.  I suppose some of you wonder why we so frequently spend our time and money on what appears to be nothing more than a fun outing.

Honestly, sometimes this feels like more of a hassle than it’s worth.  We need to get not one but three signatures giving us permission to take kids outside the institution’s walls.  Then we need to wait as the nurses change them and get them ready to go.  For some we need to pack up bibs and bottles.  Finally, there’s the challenge of navigating wheelchairs through the people on the sidewalks and over the cobblestone streets.  So why do it?

The other day, Dick and I took Elmer and Ervin there for lunch, and I realized more profoundly than ever the benefits of these trips. 

First, just getting the kids outside is good for them.  Allowing them to chose what they would like to eat is a somewhat unique experience for children who live on a diet of institutional food.  Both Ervin and Elmer knew EXACTLY what they did and did not want from the menu. The selection process, as well as the meal itself, provide numerous opportunities for communication experiences and practice in a natural, meaningful environment.

Just the type of food served here, food that is whole and recognizable (as opposed to the blended puree they often eat) makes the experience more inviting for them.  Sitting at a table with others, eating together, is also a somewhat novel experience since it only happens when they go out.



Learning table manners, using silverware, and being a good lunch companion are also part of our goals for the kids.  Both Ervin, who used to shove food into his mouth with both hands, and try to eat off everyone else’s plate, and Elmer, who would throw a screaming tantrum if he didn’t get his own way, have made a great deal of progress in this area as you can see from these pictures.














After lunch we usually try to take the kids into the play area at the restaurant.  Suddenly, kids who are in wheelchairs become mobile, independently or with our help.  Both Elmer and Ervin are experts at climbing on the equipment, and get a great deal of exercise doing this, though neither of them like to practice their walking skills during physical therapy sessions.  It is so much fun for me to watch them as they challenge each other to try new things, which they would probably never attempt if an adult asked them to.  On this trip, they created their own form of “follow the leader” which was quite amusing.
   
 

Both of these guys have learned to follow the direction that “It’s time to go,” without any fuss or bother.  This is quite the accomplishment.  A few years ago, Dick and I had Elmer and some others out to Camperos.  I was responsible for Elmer, and Dick took great delight in my struggle to push Elmer back to the orphanage after play time.  I suppose it was rather interesting to watch an inexperienced gringa try to push the wheelchair of a kid who was fighting it and screaming all the way.  (Guess I’m lucky I didn’t get arrested, come to think of it.) Today when he was told it was time to go, Elmer crawled to his chair himself and helped me to get him in.  Quite the change.

  A few weeks ago both boys received
  new wheelchairs from a distribution   

  held by Hope Haven Guatemala.  These
  chairs are very easy for them to

  self-propel, and today they had much
  practice pushing themselves through

  the restaurant (which I would not want
  to try in a wheelchair) and through

  Central Park.  They were in heaven with
  this freedom to go where they

  wanted to go.

The final benefit, though, may be the one with the most far-reaching impact.  Eleven years ago, when Dick first took kids into the restaurant, they were refused service.  Neither the restaurant staff nor the patrons wanted kids in wheelchairs disrupting their work and meals.  Today, when we hit the door, the staff begins rearranging tables for us, and often customers offer to help or at least greet the kids.  I was humbled one day when a lady walked over to me and handed me a note (in English) saying, “Thank-you.  Today I saw God in your eyes.”  Our outings benefit the community as well as the kids.  Not only are the kids more accepted than ever before, but I believe many in Antigua know that we do what we do to bring glory to God.  And to God be the glory. . .

A visit to Rony’s family, March 27

 
Dick looking at a picture of Rony
with his brothers, Herlindo & Dovan

Today started very early when the "tree man" arrived at 5:30 to trim the tree that has been scraping against my roof and sounding like someone trying to get into the house.  This was my first experience in tree-trimming here in Guatemala and it was quite interesting.




In previous journals, I've described Antigua road crews as two men, a pick-axe, and a box of rocks.  Today I discovered that tree-trimming crews are similar: one man, a rake and a machete.  I have to admit that I enjoyed watching this process so much that it was almost worth getting up early to let the tree trimmer in.

Shortly after he finished, Dick came to pick me up to travel to visit Rony's family in Cerro Colorado.  Dane Underwood, from Omaha, is visiting here, and came with us, along with five of Dick's boys. 

Dane with some of Dick’s boys

We wanted to visit this family whose son, Rony, died a couple months ago from Muscular Dystrophy, and see how they were all doing.  We were especially concerned about Herlindo, age 8, who Mom said had not been feeling well.  While we recognized that this was Sunday, and we would not be able to manage both church and the visit, we also knew if we did not go today we would not make it out for a while.  This was one of those times when we decided it was more important to BE the church than go to church.  And we were off.

We had not told the family we were coming, so our arrival was somewhat of a surprise.  Mom, baby, and Clara were off selling limones (limes), but we were able to visit with the Dad and the rest of the kids.  Dad was quite concerned about Herlindo, saying he was not eating, sleeping, had fevers, and complained of muscle aches. A local doctor had diagnosed him as anemic and low in calcium.  His parents were not so sure, though, that this was all that was ailing him. In front of him, Dad repeatedly expressed his fear that Herlindo was developing the same symptoms as Rony had at the same age.  Each time he said this, you could see Herlindo "shrink" a little and become more withdrawn.  Dick and I were concerned about the lethargy of this little one who usually is going a mile a minute.  All he wanted to do was lie on Dick's lap.



We also discovered that both Devon and Claudia, two of the younger children, were covered in scabby spots.  Dick said that a few years earlier, Claudia had had the same problem and it was from the contaminated water.  Dad agreed that this was the case, but when we discussed solutions, I once again experienced cultures colliding.

Dad was focused on the need to dig a new well, because tree roots had grown into the current one and was contaminating the water.  When we talked about using a water filter (they had been given one previously), Dad was convinced that this wouldn't do any good. . .a new well would be better.  This family, like so many others we have visited recently, does not understand the importance of using pure water consistently.  They may buy bottled water one day, and drink from the polluted well the next, not realizing that it only takes a teaspoonful of contaminated water to cause problems. 

I was curious to see the condition of their water filter, and two of the kids and I began the search.  We finally found it stuck between the pila (cement outdoor sink) and the house, and try as we could, we were not able to reach it.  It was obvious, though, that the filter had not been used for a long time.  Dick and I briefly discussed the possibility of giving them a new filter, but quickly reached the conclusion that, until they realize the value of pure water and ask for a filter, there was not point in giving another one that would not be used.

We also reminded Dad that antibiotics had helped Claudia when she had had these skin eruptions the last time, but he was opposed to using them this time.  He was convinced that they were too strong, and when we reminded him of how they helped Claudia, he agreed she could take them, but only until the spots were gone, not for the full course of antibiotic treatment.  Hearing this we decided to let their bodies fight the problem with their own resources.

If it sounds like I'm criticizing this father, I really don't mean to.  I'm writing this more to reflect on the difference in our world views than to maintain that I know better than he does what his children need.  It strikes me once again how "scientifically oriented" we Americans are, how we often trust science and technology more than our own guts or experiences, as Dad does.  It also made me realize, once again, how American I am in my attitudes.

At one point, Dane said something along the lines of, "we need to do something if these parents are going to be irresponsible."  That "brought me to my senses" in terms of what I was thinking and feeling.  This family is really one of the most functional and loving ones we work with.  Dad works hard in the sugar cane fields to provide for them.  Mom clearly loves her children.  They welcome us unconditionally into their hearts and homes each time we visit.  They are NOT irresponsible, but they are Guatemalan.  Their worldview and their way of addressing problems is different from ours. 

I needed to be reminded of that.  While I have learned not to push my values and ideas on the people I serve, I still look constantly for ways to convince them that my way is best.  How can I make them understand that pure water and filters are necessary for the health of their children?  How can I help them understand you need to take all the prescribed antibiotic? And I approach these issues from my American mindset, using my American logic to construct American arguments.  And Dick reminded me, kids here often get well inspite of us. . .

I'm not suggesting that we never say anything and leave everything as we find it.  If that were my belief, I shouldn't be here.  But I am suggesting that, even in the so-called "secular" areas of our ministry, I need to speak the truth in love, and let the Holy Spirit do the rest.  When directly addressing spiritual matters, it's so easy to remember to let God speak through me.  Now I must learn that, even when it comes to matters of everyday living, I must listen for His voice and share as He leads, not relying so much on my own wisdom.

Did I say or do anything wrong in this situation?  I really don't think so.  I know how to be "politically correct" as a missionary by now.  But that's not the issue.  The issue is the attitude of my heart in sharing the truth, and, I have to confess, in this situation, my attitude left a little bit to be desired. 

Forgive me, Father, and heal my heart.  Help me to remember my first and only responsibility is to follow You and bring Your love to this family and all I meet.  Help me get out of Your way.