David On the Wide Open Road

The Jesus Prayer

2010-05-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of hiking lately and clearing trails of blowdowns as I go. Small to medium-sized tree? Move it with your burly arms or axe the dickens out of it. Massive tree? Get out the chainsaw. Yeah, the one you've been carrying on your back (along with everything else) for the last 10 miles. Yesterday we were on a trail flooded in knee deep water for 5 hours, clearing blowdown after blowdown, and noting jobs too big for our three person crew. It was exhausting and so deeply gratifying and fun.

It feels inexpressably good to be on the trail in a beautiful place, doing the outward work of restoration even as it occurs inside. Sometimes my head gets filled up with anger, sadness, bitterness, or confusion about the more difficult events of the past 8 months of my life. I've been trying to recast those things in a more redemptive light as I ponder them, but the hurt is often too big for me to handle alone - so I've turned to Jesus in the form of an old, old prayer that people have been saying for centuries, beginning with the Desert Fathers of the fifth century.

My variation goes simply: "Lord Jesus Christ, having mercy on me." That's it. Over and over. And that kind of says it all. Jesus is Lord and the Christ. I need his mercy not only to heal my sin, but also to bring out the best in me. This goes along well with another prayer I've been saying most mornings: "Lord, help me remember the grace that you have given to me so that I can give it to others."

I feel the peace and purpose of God, and it is finally, increasingly well with my soul.

Prayerful Planting

2010-05-06T20:42:00.000-07:00

My job this week, along with the rest of the conservation staff, has been to plant trees in burn areas from the big Ponil Complex Fire of 2002. Restoration and regeneration. Perfect!

I've thought about how St. Francis used to preach to the birds, and have so felt inspired to pray for each little tree (we're planting 5,000 - each with an unfortunately low chance of survival) to make it through the dry months and hold on for rain. I'm so blessed to have the chance to so intimately involve my body and soul in the physical regeneration of the land - an absurdly beautiful and direct metaphor for the work that God is doing in me right now. Hallelujah.

Arrived

2010-05-04T19:39:00.000-07:00

Hey all. I have made it to Philmont. On the way I stayed with a friend in Fort Collins, CO and played an open mic, had dinner and good times with other friends in Denver, pushed on through the night to arrive here early this morning. Planted trees in a burn zone this morning, relaxed this afternoon.

The sky is big, the mountains are inviting, the air is fresh, the sage is fragrant. This feels a lot like home, but I know it now as preparation for a return to my truest home on Earth, Kansas City. Looking forward to quieted time in the wilderness, more celebration, and heart/spirit restoration. Love you each and all.

Address

2010-05-03T01:36:00.000-07:00

Hey there. So for the next month, I'l be receiving letters at:

David Burchfield
Philmont Scout Ranch
Staff: Conservation
47 Caballo Rd.
Cimarron, NM 87714

email and phone are still in the game, but not all the time. hooray!

Ready, set...

2010-04-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

Today I feel the thrill of expectation mostly buried underneath the mundanity of this windowless office day. Still, it bears noting that tomorrow is my last day at the office of IJM Guatemala, or IJM in general, for that matter. In a few short days I´ll be on the road West to Philmont, CO Springs, Denver, Telluride, then back East to Nashville, Smokies, Conway, Osceola, then back home to KC by July 4th. It´s going to be an exciting two or so months followed by the great journey of refinding a home in KC. I know these next steps in my life´s journey are at least as important as the last, and I´m ready for whatever challenges, triumphs, griefs, and joys may be coming my way.

Meanwhile I feel like I´m out of pictures, witty quips, and condensed stories or bits of wisdom. I´m sure I´ll be back on here to keep you all updated on where I am, who I´m rubbin shoulders with, and what foot-stompin tunes I'm playing. For now, though, I need to focus on packing, then unpacking, then repacking, then driving, then unpacking, etc....... You get the idea.

Further support for a life as a barely solvent (or not at all), nomadic musician

2010-04-23T09:42:00.000-07:00

"I know nothing that is greater than the Appassionata [by Beethoven]; I'd like to listen to it every day. It is marvelous superhuman music. I always think with pride—perhaps it is naive of me—what marvelous things human beings can do!

But I can’t listen to music too often. It affects your nerves, makes you want to say stupid nice things, and stroke the heads of people who could create such beauty while living in this vile hell. And now you must not stroke anyone's head: you might get your hand bitten off. You have to strike them on the head, without any mercy, although our ideal is not to use force against anyone.

Hm, hm, our duty is infernally hard."

-Lenin

And that is why we should play music, make beauty, and do some things that make no sense economically or politically, but because they make sense to the soul.

I like mate

2010-04-21T08:40:00.000-07:00

This is not posed.

Despedidas Pt. 1

2010-04-19T15:15:00.001-07:00

Despedidas means something like "farewells" but we also use it to describe the going away parties and get togethers that occur in the last weeks and days of someone´s (mine) days in town. That´s right. I´m heading home soon. Here´s the beginnings of my despedidas:

Last Friday we three interns looked pretty funny next to each other, so we took this picture. Kim we labeled as chic New Yorker (surprise!), Kelly labeled me as straight out of "Dr. Quinn Medecine Woman" (which I took as a compliment of course), and Kelly is wearing a traditional Q´eqchi´ traje.
There was a mariachi band at Tacontento, one of my favorite restaurants. I pretty much want to be these guys.

A lake named Calderas below the summit of Pacaya. Volcan Pacaya is sort of a tourism must-do here in Guate, and I hadn´t yet done it. We finally got er´done on Saturday.

Walking up towards the lava through the descending fog.

We brought up that stick to roast marshmallows over the lava.

We thought it looked like "Lost" on Pacaya. This picture barely captures that. Also, Kim is a balla.

We´re risky.

Somedays there´s a river of lava on the mountain. Somedays there´s none. This particular day, there was a couple pockets. It was much more impressive than you may think.

This is pretty much how it looked when we were walking down the mountain. There´s two Brits in this picture. See em´?

Every Sunday after morning church I go to lunch with these ladies. I call it my "Over 50 Club." It´s a long story as to how I got included, but it´s been one of the best, most surprising friend groups I´ve ever had.

A bit of wisdom

2010-04-19T10:42:00.001-07:00

Here´s this poem by Rilke that´s been up at my desk since January. Don´t know if I´ve posted it already, but it´s worth a repost de todas maneras.

I am, you anxious one.

Don´t you sense me, ready to break
into being at your touch?
My murmurings surround you like shadowy wings.
Can´t you see me standing before you
Cloaked in stillness?
Hasn´t my longing ripened in you from the beginning
as fruit ripens on a branch?

I am the dream you are dreaming
When you want to awaken, I am that wanting:
I grow strong in the beauty you behold.
And with the silence of stars I enfold
your cities made by time.

---
Also, I´ve had this verse (my favorite) up:

"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:12-14
---
Finally, while in Antigua this past Saturday, Kim and I ate at La Fonda de la Calle Real. They´ve got great Guatemalan food and dichos, or sayings, painted all over the place. This one must have been put up for me at just the right moment. Definitely a lesson learned over the last several months:

A Good Sunday

2010-04-12T09:24:00.000-07:00

So yesterday I went climbing with a friend from the climbing gym and a bunch of his friends (now also mine). We went to Lago Amatitlan, about 20 minutes from the city, and had a great time. The rock was beautiful, the view was big, the sun was very hot.

After climbing, we headed back to the city by way of a gas station for some celebratory beers, where we were accosted by a stereotypical drunk Latin American man who thought it´d be a great idea if we all shared a second round, and would be cool if we bought? We turned him down and headed back to the city, where I hit church just on time for the very end! I would´ve liked to make it for the whole thing, but at least I got to hang out with some of the crew (see below) for dinner. I´m feeling the end coming quickly and want to make the most of things while I can.

The view.
Julio, Leoni, and Garilla hiding in the shade. German and Luna in the foreground.

On Corrosión, 5.10d. Gorgeous rock. Hoping to go back and send it clean soon.

See? Gorgeous.

Leoni.

Making hardcore faces to accompany bold moves.

We got right up under the airtram lines. People kept shouting "Escaladores! Buena suerte!" I waved at them from the top of a 60 foot rapel. It was funny to me that people would pay to be transported by box to the same height and view I had reached by hiking and climbing for free. What a deal!

Julio and Johnny, at least I think that´s his name. He kept telling me to call him "La Gorda," which is the feminine version of "fatty." Wha?

Johnny on a 5.11c of unknown name.

The afterchurch party. Lucia, Ana Lu, Anaco, Jillian, and some obnoxious guy.

My buddy Rodrigo.

Semana Santa

2010-04-07T08:51:00.001-07:00

So I´ve been known to leave my camera at home on more than one occasion. When it comes down to being there, and proving that I was physically present, I tend to prefer the former. Forgetfulness, really, though, is the reason that I don´t have any pictures of my time up north in Coban visiting the caves of San Marcos, Semuc Champey, Lanquin Cave, or the sweet people from Wyoming I got to hang out with. But really, it was a good time. I went up there with some friends from church, and we took it really easy. A lot of napping that first day, which fit in well with my sick-recovery plan (still workin on beating this bronchitis). The next day we checked out San Marcos, then the next I went to Semuc by myself. I ended up befriending a girl from the Czech Republic who promised to email me photos from Semuc, which I´ll post here if she ever does.

On the evening bus back from Semuc and Lanquin Cave, I ended up really hitting it off with a couple girls who had met at the University of Wyoming. I ended up getting off the bus with them and having dinner with them and their friends. It´s hard to explain, but I sort of felt like we were all immediately old friends, and that was a great feeling. The next day I bussed back by myself to the city and a few hours later headed to my host family´s pineapple farm. It was hot, rustic, and beautiful. It all ended me up back in Guate for a few days alone, which I mostly spent recording demos, reading, and watching movies. Here´s some pictures and a video.

The chicken coops behind, the chickens (and roosters), hanging out on a rail ahead. Why do people keep roosters over the longterm? I´m serious. All they're good for is crowing all night, fertilizing eggs, and eating.

A few of the folks from next door who watch the house for Victor Sr. and Candy, and then Jo and Victor.

They grow pineapple. We didn´t eat any of it on this particular day though.

Victor Sr., Joanna, Victor. None of their hats fit my big American head.

Amor means love.

Better Than Expected Friday

2010-04-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

With a quite varied and exciting Holy Week coming to a skidding crawl due to bronchitis and skin rash, I'm holed up here back home in Boca del Monte for the rest of the week off. Sort of a bummer, but a good opportunity to get a lot of demos recorded/movies watched/books read/friends called.

Today I was recording until about five, then decided I oughta head out to the pharmacy for some meds and to the corner store for a pirated DVD. When I rounded the corner out of my dead-end street, I came upon a giant alfombra, which is basically a huge pattern of flowers, vegetables, and colored sawdust to depict bible scenes or religious iconography. They work on these things all day long, right up until the procession passes by carrying incredibly heavy and ornate floats depicting scenes from the passion, and then the alfombras all destroyed in an instant. The temporaryness of all of our works.

There were people gathered in mobs to see the procession go by. Incense was burning. Vendors were selling street food. The brass band was playing dirges. People were dressed in robes, etc. Smells, sights, sounds, even motion. Most people walked right along with the procession, making the whole ritual a bodily, as well as spiritual, experience. I was blessed to experience such a holistic replaying of the drama of the cross on this Good Friday. I was anticipating a quiet night and another conspicuously unLenten-feeling Lenten night. Admittedly, this Lent doesn't seem to have the communal feeling or focused discipline of Lents past, but it will no doubt be a memorable one.

Travels with Mom and Dad

2010-03-23T15:22:00.000-07:00

That´s right. My mom and dad came down to Guatemala last week and we had ourselves an adventure. We headed straight to Antigua when they arrived and spent a few days there enjoying the colonial city in all its goodness: Good food, ruins, a few museums, ziplining over a coffee plantation, Lenten festivities. From there we headed to Santiago on Lake Atitlan (called "the most beautiful lake in the world" by Aldous Huxley and a whole lot of other people) for a few days. We enjoyed the weather, played cards, rode horses up to a ridge and overlooked the whole lake, my dad and I sunk a kayak in the middle of the lake and got rescued (not that we weren´t gonna make it safe to land on our own, but it would have taken a long time) by some local fishermen in their clapboard boats. Adventuresome, simple, good, luxurious. We spent our last night in the capital at dinner with my host family. Both moms cried about the awesomeness of the other. It was a good time. Very nice to have some time off and see parts I hadn´t been to before. Here are the pictures from my camera. My dad will send some more soon.

Lent is a big deal in Latin America. Here is a vegetable design on the floor of the main cathedral in Antigua. They do stuff like this the whole 40 days.

All vegetable.

They carry these massive floats all through town. They´re so heavy that they have to trade carriers every block. They sway back and forth and side to side when stand in one place because it´s too darn heavy to stand still with it. See video below.

The guard.

The biggest float. I think I counted something like over 60 carriers.

My dear friends Dave and Jessi Lueck happened to be in the country as leaders on a youth group missions trip the same week! We met up on their last day in Antigua for lunch. It was inexpressably relieving to see these people.

That was last week. This week I´m working, and then next week... more vacation! Yep, pretty much the whole continent will be on vacation next week for Holy Week. I plan to go visit some caves/waterfalls with some friends from Church, go to my host family´s pineapple farm for a couple days, then go to the beach for a couple days with some other friends. THEN... the home stretch. But let´s not start counting just yet. More photos and updates to come soon.

An update and the latest thoughts on lawyering, etc.

2010-03-10T10:42:00.000-08:00

Lots going on lately. The pace here is picking up in life-giving ways. A climbing gym finally opened a week ago. It´s right on the way home and has given me back one of my favorite activities. Hanging out with people from church more, and finding more to do in the evenings in general. I’ve recently gotten into Lost, and am eating any negative words I might’ve said about it before. Season 1 is just full of genius. Maybe I’ll get frustrated later on, but for now it’s a great escape when I need one.

Pretty much every day I sit at my desk and am overcome by the feeling that I really ought to be playing music somewhere. Hopefully I can make this a reality sometime down the road. Big recent contributors to this feeling include: Chris Thile/Punch Brothers, Yonder Mountain String Band, Ray Lamontagne, Crooked Still, Justin Townes Earle, The Hot Club of Cowtown, Old Crow Medicine Show, and Son Volt – all pulsing through my earbuds. For now I’m going it alone and working on music as much as possible with my ample (though lately shrinking, thanks to the mentioned above) free time. I’m working through some flatpicking DVD’s by Steve Kaufman, two (or three?) time National Flatpicking Contest winner at Winfield (i.e. heaven on Earth, more specifically, in Kansas (where else would you look?)). I’ve been writing as much as I can, and am now working on charts for that fantasy band that I’ll surely form soon after returning to the states. I expect to make some demos in the next month too. Maybe I’ll put something up here for you all when they’re done.

I’ve been struggling with work lately. As in any internship, it has taken a long time to find my niche and figure out how I can contribute here. As I’ve finally found it (and indeed I have, I’m busily contributing in real ways these days), I’ve also determined that as much as I believe in the ends of this work, the means are mostly frustrating/boring/unchallenging/uncreative to me. It’s good to learn more about what I do and don’t like to do. And I guess that’s sort of part of the intern’s lot: do the tedious stuff that needs to get done but that no one wants/has the time to do. I’m okay with that for now, but looking forward to moving on to greener pastures. I now know how important it is to me that I work in smaller organizations that allow me to fill a more dynamic, creative, interactive role. Getting outside would be pretty great too. This is all good revelation. A big reason for coming here was to figure out if I wanted to be a lawyer, and now I know. If anything, this has been confirmed for me by some recent reading and interesting insights in Luke.

The National Revised Standard Version has Luke 11:46-52 like this (underlines added):

“46And he said, ‘Woe also to you lawyers! For you load people with burdens hard to bear, and you yourselves do not lift a finger to ease them. 47Woe to you! For you build the tombs of the prophets whom your ancestors killed. 48So you are witnesses and approve of the deeds of your ancestors; for they killed them, and you build their tombs. 49Therefore also the Wisdom of God said, “I will send them prophets and apostles, some of whom they will kill and persecute”, 50so that this generation may be charged with the blood of all the prophets shed since the foundation of the world, 51from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zechariah, who perished between the altar and the sanctuary. Yes, I tell you, it will be charged against this generation. 52Woe to you lawyers! For you have taken away the key of knowledge; you did not enter yourselves, and you hindered those who were entering.’”

Now, I don’t by any means intend to indict all lawyers, but Jesus is being pretty direct here, especially in that last verse. “Taken away the key of knowledge”? That sort of characterizes the legal system, doesn’t it? We have lawyers because the system is so complicated, senseless, and unnavigable without them. This often works to the disadvantage of the poor, who rarely have the means to challenge this system in a dignified, successful way. This is also why it’s important that organizations like IJM exist. We have lawyers committed to working against the tilt of this system to seek justice for the poor. They work within the system to overthrow its evil (wording too strong for you? go back to Luke) disposition.

I understand the necessity of organizations like IJM, but at least for me, in the ways that this and the following verses have spoken to me, I think Jesus is calling me to live according to another way of life – to see the Kingdom come and not engage with corrupt systems. Here’s Luke 12:11-12 and 57-59 (underlines added).

11When they bring you before the synagogues, the rulers, and the authorities, do not worry about how* you are to defend yourselves or what you are to say; 12for the Holy Spirit will teach you at that very hour what you ought to say.’

57 ‘And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right? 58Thus, when you go with your accuser before a magistrate, on the way make an effort to settle the case,* or you may be dragged before the judge, and the judge hand you over to the officer, and the officer throw you in prison. 59I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the very last penny.’

In 11-12, Jesus tells us to hold to God´s justice, and in 58, he tells us to avoid litigation.
Granted, of course, all of these verse could be applied to the support of IJM’s work, and I don’t mean to take that away. I have, however, felt a personal call to read these verses as I’ve stated. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve even felt this here at the mission. As I see the organizational inefficiencies and the usual bureaucracy that are bound to occur in any giant corporation or organization, I’ve felt a lot of resistance to simply towing the line.

I guess I’ve always been pretty independent. In some ways, that can be a bad thing – like if it were to keep me from being effective here at the mission, or in school, or in the church community, or whatever. I’m aware of the necessity of curbing the independent spirit for the sake of community. But in other ways, I’m seeing how this is a good characteristic that God has put in me for a reason. I need to listen to that tug toward independence, and make myself as free as possible from participating in corrupt systems. For a long time I thought that maybe I could be that advocate to stand in the gap and navigate the corruption and senselessness of the legal system for the typically underrepresented. As much as I believe that that should be done, I’m now learning that instead of playing by the system's rules for the sake of the Gospel, I personally am called to, as much as possible, live by a new system according to the Gospel for the sake of the system. Similar ends, but very different means - a path, I think, that fits me much better.

Not that I’ll never work for another organization, or fight corruption directly, or live in community, etc. But rather, I want to form community, work with organizations, and live a life that models the Gospel’s alternative reality and avoids as much as possible engaging in the world’s broken systems. There are signs that this is possible, though my own version is yet mostly unformed. Here are some clues and outlines: Catholic Worker houses, Jacob’s Well, local food and goods, home gardens, veggie oil engine conversion, solar power, clandestine urban chickens and bees, forming relationships across socio-economic divides, front porch folk music. I’m just reaching for little pieces of this alternative vision. I know that´s vague, but I have a feeling many of you get what I´m saying. I look forward to working for this kind of life with all of you.

El Salvador

2010-03-08T14:04:00.000-08:00

Hey folks. We´ve begun the crazy month of travel that my March promises to be. It all started off in February, actually. I left Guatemala on the 26th and took a four hour bus ride to San Salvador, El Salvador where my dear old friend Jennifer picked me up. Jennifer and another friend, Sally, have been living and working in El Papaturro and Suchitoto, El Salvador since October. They flew through Guatemala and I got to see them at the beginning of their time in Latin America. They are finishing up their time, and I wanted to see what they´d been up to living up there in the campo (countryside).

It turns out they´ve been having a really richly meaningful and growing time, and I got to experience a bit of that over the best five days I´ve had down thisaway. Jennifer and Sally work for a U.S.-based organization named Sister Cities in conjunction with a Salvadoran organization named CRIPDES. Both organizations were formed as a response to the Civil War fought between 1980 and 1992.

The war was basically waged by the urban-based elite and wealthy against the leftist ideas (and guerilla army) taking root among campesinos (country people, almost exclusively wretchedly poor) as communism took hold in Cuba. Of course, the campesinos had a reason to latch onto leftist ideas. My first night in the country I sat with an older man named Don Pablo who had lived through the whole war. He said that before the war, campesinos lived in tiny pueblos (villages) without water, electricity, or schools. They worked on plantations owned by the wealthy, paid just enough to survive and given rancid food and water during their short lunch breaks in the middle of 12-16 hour workdays.

Don Pablo said that as word of communism spread, they asked the soldiers who had begun coming to the communities what it was. It was, of course, characterized as an evil system that would really serve no one´s interests. Fidel Castro was described to them (literally, like not as a joke) as a devil with horns and a tail who ate children. After a while, one of the villagers talked to someone from the budding leftist party and learned the truth. That the party would be concerned with redistribution of wealth and just wages and conditions for the poor won this particular villager over. Don Pablo recounted how horribly mutilated this man´s body was found after voting for the leftist candidate in a regional election. This signaled the downward slide into gross human rights abuses (rape, mutilation, property destruction, mass murder, etc.) by the government and military, much of which, by the way, was financed by our very own U.S. government. We were so afraid of the spread of communism that we financed (i.e. $1 million a day) the terrorization and slaughter of peasants young and old (over 70,000 dead in El Salvador. About 200,000 dead in Guatemala in a similar situation).

Many of the campesinos fled to Honduras as refugees while the guerrilla army fought it out with government forces. When the war finally ended and the revolutionary army was recognized as a legitimate party, the refugees came back to their villages and reorganized them in just ways according to a land redistribution set up by the new government. The day we visited Don Pablo in Cinquera, El Salvador was that community’s Repopulation Day, and they were celebrating with joy and remembering what happened lest it happen again.

And it very well could. The day I was in Cinquera, the mayor´s record was being examined per charges (proved that evening) that he had stolen $30,000 from the community’s treasury. This particular mayor was from the right-wing Arena party, elected in the leftist stronghold of Cinquera through some devilish maneuvering similar to gerrymandering. What if he had gotten away with it? Further oppression of the poor. Obviously, the struggle is far from over, which is why it´s so important that organizations like CRIPDES and Sister Cities remain funded and active. It is equally important that we pay attention to the role that our own government is playing throughout the world. I didn´t know this story until I walked into it. What else don´t I know about the past? Or the present? I was so blessed to learn this story directly from Don Pablo and many others who lived it. Here are some pictures from my visit.

Martyrs from the Civil War.
"I don´t believe in Arena." I saw this sticker in more than a few places.

Names of victims from Cinquera.

LtoR: Jennifer, Sara (staff from Sister Cities), Sally, sitting at Don Pablo´s house. It´s filled with revolution posters and artifacts from the war.

People dancing like they mean it at the repopulation party.

Jennifer on a Suchitoto morning.

"Communities in Resistance against Neoliberal Politics"

One day we hiked up to this farm to meet one of Jennifer and Sally´s friend´s boyfriend. He was super nice and the view rocked way more than this picture.

The town of La Bermuda also had their repopulation party while I was there. To celebrate, they had a big horse race/competition. See the video below.

After the horse race, we went to this woman´s house for lunch. She works for CRIPDES and served as a nurse for the guerrilla army during the war. She told us her whole story.

We also celebrated Angelita´s (left) birthday by making empanadas over her woodburning girl in her backyard. They were soooooo delicious.

Jennifer frying.

Angelita´s backyard.

I tried to get involved, but I´m a boy, which means they mostly wouldn´t let me. Angelita´s daughter "helping" me fry.

Folding them up.

Wholeness

2010-02-23T07:46:00.000-08:00

Been thinking more about oneness/wholeness. About past and future and present/presence.
If I feel desolate sometimes these days, I didn´t before, and won´t always.
I was electric, proud, hopeful.

I am still ten years old, grassy soccer knees and unstoppable smile, exhilarant. I am still seventeen, wild hope. I am still twenty that first summer in New Mexico – the whole world changing and opening before my eyes from the tops of ragged mountains. I am still here, newly twenty-three and feeling displaced and emptied but still possible and so grateful to be learning.

Even if now can feel no good, it is still one with what lies ahead and what lay behind.
Nothing is lost or ruined. I still contain that electricity, pride, and hope. That never changed, and never will.
It´s in there, feeding new roots somewhere deep.
Thank God.

Does that make sense? I feel fine.

---

Also, we just had an earthquake. Shook is the wrong word. I was sitting here writing this and it felt like I was suddenly in the wave pool and then suddenly not. Everything and everyone is fine, but I feel a little dizzy. Weird.

Also. I love Cat Power lately. Is she out of my league?

One

2010-02-10T07:05:00.001-08:00

Lately I´ve been reading Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening by Cynthia Bourgeault, which focuses on the contemplative tradition in Christianity and its relevance for our current day and individual lives. Centering prayer is essentially the practice of surrending thoughts and sitting quietly in the moment, seeking God´s presence and relinquishing thoughts gently as they come to you. It is helpful to have a single word to bring you back to your practice when you notice yourself thinking (which happens very often at first). I´ve been experimenting with this method as part of my larger attempt to spend more time with the Divine and from a real need to center myself daily in my deeper identity and in God´s being before I head out into the chaos of living here and doing what I do.

I´ve also been in the practice of going to yoga every Monday and Wednesday morning from 6:40 to about 7:40 for some prework exercise, wakefulness, and meditation. Today as I laid down for the final part of the yoga practice, savasana (a short meditation and stillness), I started counting my breaths (one, two, one, two) as I tried to quiet down. I quickly grabbed onto "one" as my meditative word, and had a little something of a realization (which is, ironically, not actually the point of centering prayer as a specific meditative discipline, but whatever) that what I want to tell you about.

As I breathed in and out, letting thoughts go and returning to the word when necessary (often), the word swelled and became something much bigger and more meaningful than I expected. As I tried to relax, my mind slipped to more peaceful settings I have known. Specific mountaintops at Philmont, the shade of specific trees at Shawnee Mission Park, etc. filled my mind, and it all seemed like a quick round the world flight (in my mind. I had no illusions about actually be transported. And I might seem a little weird to be saying all this, but come on, I´m not that weird). As I noticed myself thinking, again and again I came back to my word "one," and some kind of sense was made of everything when those very visions in my head collided into a mess of formless color and beauty.

Whether or not the lesson was meant to be this literal (or even a lesson at all), I felt as if I saw the oneness of my life and this world. Where I am now is not as beautiful or peaceful or easy as where I have been at other times, but it is absolutely one with them in some fundamental, ineffable ways. The implications of this are, of course, big - calling me to a deeper presence in my current situation, a stronger rootedness in the oneness of my being, of God, of this world - rather than some kind of overwhelming attachment to a particular home or group of people. In saying all of this, of course, I´ve not only fallen far short of explaining anything like the actual reality, I´ve also changed it a little bit. But what does T.S. Eliot say?

"Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholy new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate - but there is no competition -
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. "

(Four Quartets, East Coker, V, l. 3-18)

Perhaps he is one of the few who has conquered by "strength and submission" that which simultaneously evokes and evades description, but I am not. Hope some of this has made at least a little sense, though. Much love to you all.

Monterrico

2010-02-08T10:49:00.000-08:00

"We gotta get out of here. It´s been too many weeks in the city." We say that occassionally. Living in this city of four million (planned for less than a million) feels a little bit like you´re constantly on the run: racing to get to work, to get into line, to get off the street before dark, to stay safe, to get work done despite myriad infrastructural and organizational roadblocks. Though there are certainly good things about the city, they´re mostly people related - so when you can bring those people along with you (in this case, friends from work Kelly, Kimberly, and Kati), it can be a real relief to get out of the city. I guess this is just big city life, but I don´t remember feeling spiritually exhausted by New York City or Chicago or Denver or KC. Guatemala City is just tough to live in, and we feel the weight after enough time here. So this last weekend we planned/improvised a trip to the beach town of Monterrico. Here´s how it all went down.

There was no first class bus, so we rode the fabled chicken buses all the way there. 3 bucks for a 4 hour ride, but three to a seat plus people standing in the aisles.

We stayed at a place called Eco Beach Place run by a man named Luis and his family. We met his soon to be daughter-in-law, a girl from Virginia who happened to stay here one weekend on break from language school in Antigua and never left. She gets married this coming Saturday. We ate lunch as soon as we got there. (LtoR: Me, Kati, and Kelly).

Then we napped.

Then we went and played on the beach.

Down the beach was the weekly baby turtle race. Contestants buy a baby turtle for 10 Quetzales (about $1.24) and cheer them on as they race from the rope to the line.

It was a beautiful Pacific sunset.

The beach was steep so the undertow was really strong, but I went in up to my waist to play for a little bit after the race.

That night we went dancing at a club down the beach. I guess we don´t have any pictures of that. The next morning, we got up at 5 AM for a tour of the nearby mangrove swamp. I tried to take a picture when we started, and this is what came out.

And then it got lighter.

And lighter.

Etc.

That´s Kim in front.

We took a boat across the river to another town to take a different, quicker way back to Guatemala City. I guess they take cars across too.

That´s a bucket of fish in the foreground. It sat in the sun for a least two hours. I´m pretty sure the lady who brought them intended to sell them. Ugh.

Packed again on the bus back. We made it home on time to see the Superbowl, complete with Spanish commentary.

The Flower Debacle

2010-02-03T07:01:00.000-08:00

As some of you may remember, shortly after returning to Guatemala I made a list of ways that I wanted to change the ways I live and think about life here. Point five on that list was all about searching out and creating beauty wherever possible. In the weeks since then, I´ve done a pretty good job of bringing beauty to my bedroom, my desk, and even my car. Yesterday, I accidentally (and in the end, fortunately) stumbled into an opportunity to spread some life and beauty throughout this entire windowless office.

It was 7:55 and we were just a few blocks from work. As we passed a big market on the way, I pulled into a parking spot I´d parked in before to buy some flowers for my desk (having previously bought a vase for $6 at a nearby antique store). The first time I did this there was no problem. Bought the flowers and went. This time, for some reason, a vendor had left a significant amount of flowers (exactly 12 vases-worth) wrapped up and on the ground in that parking spot. Of course, I didn´t see them until I saw them under my back tire. I got out and offered to buy them all - which seemed to confuse the vendor. I think she expected me to argue or something. She kept acting mad until a fellow vendor said "He just wants a price and then he´ll buy them all and go." Oh. So we settled on 140 Quetzales (about $18) and I went on my way.

Not sure what to do with all these flowers, we knew couldn´t leave them in the hot car all day. So carrying the flowers into the office, I impulsively offered a couple bunches to a shop/restaurant named Willy who is just one of the nicest guys I´ve ever been acquainted with. He took them and put them out on his dining tables. Boom. Beauty Bomb number 1. Then coming into the office, I arranged, with our office manager/maid, to get a vase together for every female member of the office (plus me at my desk). Everyone was really excited about their flowers and very thankful. There was even enough leftover to bring back home at the end of the day for my host mom´s birthday. How ironic that I was going to buy flowers and ended up running over them. What was at first frustrating turned out to be quite a blessing for the whole office (and Willy, and my host mom).

The whole cache. Proof that I made good on the beauty goal at the office, complete with pictures of friends, a Kansas calendar, a Rilke poem, a few photos of St. Louis sent from an old friend, a paper crane sent from Spain, a drawing of some old guy carrying wood up to a cabin, and of course, the flowers.

Bea.

Delmi.

Miriam.

Lately

2010-02-01T08:31:00.000-08:00

A lot has happened over the last two weeks. One of our lawyers left the mission for a job closer to home, Kimberly and Kelly (new interns) have come to start their year of service, and Alex finished up his service and headed back home to Chicago. Here´s some pictures, many of which are courtesy of Kim.
We went to the beach for the day two weeks ago for Kim´s first full day in the country.

This is Alex. He just finished a year of service here as a Church Relations intern. He showed me the ropes and became a dear friend. We spent the last week hanging out as much as possible. Following our day at the beach, we went to this fondue place to kick the last week off.

Cheesy deliciousness.

Alex was really sad about leaving. I tried to console him... ...everything got better when dessert came. I really enjoyed the chocolate-covered marshmallow. We had wine flights at a little shopping center named Fontabella. It feels like a tiny, tiny version of the plaza in KC. That´s Kim on the left.

Then we went to dinner at a bookstore/cafe called Sophos. They have the best salad in the world. It´s called the Paraíso. On Saturday we had a Día de Gozo, which means "Day of Joy." It mostly means we bring all the clients and their families to a church or children´s home or somewhere and play with them all day. At this particular Día de Gozo we had a clown (payaso), which was both creepy and great. He did a great job. All my other pictures are of our totally adorable clients, which you´ll just have to see when I come home.

We went dancing for Alex´s last night at a dancehall reggae club. We were busting earth-shattering moves.

My first Sunday morning at Union Church I was invited out to lunch with an older group of folks, and I kept coming. At first it was a more mixed group, but now it´s usually just three women over 50 and me. Totally strange, unexpected, and hilarious. Also a good time. It´s usually just a quick lunch after church, but yesterday we went to Julianna´s apartment in Zone 14 for cake. This is her view. I live somewhere down there in the valley. Yesterday I ran for 80 minutes to the top of that half-hidden mountain on the left and came back down to Boca on time for dinner. It was awesome. Now we´re back to the daily grind. This is what traffic looks like in the morning. It moves about as fast as this picture.

And this is where we park. It´s a tight squeeze every day.

Western Highlands

2010-01-12T06:55:00.000-08:00

So last Friday I went with a paralegal (Beatriz) and a social worker (Delmi) from our staff to Quetzaltenango, otherwise known as Xela, to meet with a client at the children´s home where she is staying. Xela is a small-feeling (though it´s the second-largest city in the country) city 3.5 hours westward into the mountains, with a lot more Mayan presence than the capital. We worked for most of the day, and had to spend the night because we worked so late. We went out with Beatriz´s friends to a classy french restaurant where gypsy jazz/cuban jazz group (they were great!) played the night away. It was a really good time. The next morning, I caught a chicken bus to the mountain town of Almolonga twenty minutes away for one of the biggest fruit and vegetable markets in Latin America. I was soaking wet with culture. Here are the pictures.

Shenni, me, Beatriz, Lilian, Delmi

The central park in Xela.

Get your fungicide right here in the corner store.

I sort of wanna live here.

Farms amongst houses amongst businesses amongst schools and churches. Sometimes not planning leads to great planning?

Taking a break.

The market.

The bulk room.

Cauliflower.

It was all Mayan, all the time in Almolonga.

The Almolonga church.

Gente apretada.

Here´s a video of the market. Take note of leaf-on-the-head lady towards the end.

Returning Home Pt. 2

2010-01-05T11:39:00.000-08:00

So I went home (last post) and got reinspired and reenergized for my life and work here in Guatemala. I mean, I was really, deeply encouraged. As clear as I made it that I was struggling, I want to make it equally clear that I´m in a much better place now. Certainly I will still struggle and feel lonely and even listless sometimes, but I´ve returned with all kinds of new ideas and energy and hope. In that hope, I made a game plan with some close friends for how I could capitalize on the differences of life here and not only survive, but thrive - if not in all ways, at least in some ways. So whether its more for me or for the interest of whoever reads this thing, I´ll now attempt to enumerate those ideas. Maybe you can check on how I´m doing with this stuff in a couple weeks.

* In order to feel a greater sense of purpose at work, I need to create a more important role for myself by kicking serious butt. This will be first characterized by avoiding non-work related distractions (the blog mostly exempt, however, because some of the folks paying for me to be here and/or praying for me read this thing and they have a right to know what´s going on). I will take on every task as if the entire mission of justice in Latin America rests on my shoulders at that moment. So when my team starts noticing that I´m finishing stuff really fast and really well, they´ll come to rely on me more. And that´s sort of the whole idea.

* I will appreciate what social blessings I already have here. Goodhearted coworkers. A few, close friends that care about me a lot. A darling host family. It was wrong to ever take them for granted.

* Even while getting used to the idea that I will not have 20 close friends here by the time I leave, I will seek out community wherever I can get it in hopes of having 2(ish) more close friends. I will accept almost any invitation, and go out of my way and be very bold about initiating new friendships and social opportunities.

* I will be way more consistent about exercise: pushups and pullups and situps when I wake up and before bed, waking up earlier to go on morning runs at least three times a week, joining the yoga studio and attending at least 8 times a month, checking on the once-closed and maybe open-again-by-now climbing gyms.

* I will be serious about getting enough sleep and establishing a routine that I can stick to in order to make that possible.

* I will go out of my way to create beauty whereever I can: at my desk, in my bedroom, in my bathroom, in my car. I brought some pictures of friends and favorite places, as well as a scenic Kansas wall calendar for this purpose. I´ll be on the hunt for more beautiful things to put up. (This has made an already appreciable difference. Now, when I sit at my desk in our windowless office, all my friends smile at me from the wall as if to say "Go get em´tiger.")

* I´ll be active in creating beauty. I´ll be disciplined about writing and recording music. I´ll try writing more poetry. I´ll even try drawing or painting or something visual.

* I´ll be disciplined about getting better at guitar - my new flatpicking instructional DVDs will help with this.

* I´ll not believe that indulging in material things will make me happier - but I will enjoy a movie, a weekend trip, or a meal out whenever it is appropriate.

* I´ll keep in touch better, calling at least one person every day if possible, and keeping up with emails, blogging, and maybe even snail mail. (If you want to kick off an exchange of the latter, my address is: David Burchfield/Misión Internacional de Justicia/13 Calle 2-73, Zona 1/Guatemala/GUATEMALA; If you really want to talk to me on your own initiation, you can also call my Guatemalan cell phone via Skype or Google or whatever: (502)4912-6121).

* I will do my darndest to reserve some time for just me and the Divine in the morning and at night - in meditation, scripture and other literature, intercessory prayer, journaling, dancing alone, whatever. I may begin fixed-hour prayer.

* I will read voraciously, to improve my knowledge of the world and God and people and agriculture and justice and the human story in general. Fortunately I feel the slightest, completely appropriate, bit of pressure here because of the 10 or 15 books that have been given or lent to me for this time. (I´ve finished "No Impact Man" and knocked out a good portion of "Unexpected News: Reading the Bible with Third World Eyes" in the last 4 days. A good start.)

* Perhaps most importantly, I will seek the courage to change the things I can, accept the things I cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference.

There´s my game plan. Check up on me in a little while, okay?

Returning Home Pt. 1

2010-01-05T11:15:00.001-08:00

It is my second day of work in 2010, and my third day back in Guatemala. I went home for 17 days that were richer than I could ever hope to describe. Almost every moment of every single day I was with people, knowing that I´d have plenty of time to be alone when I got back here. I even spent some nights with people, slumber partying a few times. The coldest, snowiest Kansas City Christmas of my entire lifetime was in many ways also the warmest.

I´ve been struggling down here, and that´s not such a big secret for many of you. I, a pretty extreme extrovert, have been limited to a much, much smaller (though very good) group of people to interact with here, let alone interact with in my first and most comfortable language. I feel uncharacteristically quiet, withdrawn, and pensive here. Maybe those are good things in some ways, but they've also been incredibly difficult to adjust to. There is also, of course the cultural adjustment and new work environment, not to mention the end of a very important relationship. So I´ve been grieving that, and struggling with all this newness and differentness and I felt like I was going crazy with doubt and a loss of connection to the reasons that I came here in the first place - and then I went home.

I think words like Hallelujah were made for occasions like this. We know what it means, but it still seems to grab the edge of that ineffable elation we feel when we feel loved, or inspired, or purposeful, or all of the above together. I dove right in with friends and family, laughing and celebrating the goodness of Christmas and America and Kansas City and Togetherness. I moved forward through some of that grief and pain and confusion and cried a little in the presence of people who care quite about me and could actually hug me at the end of our time together, rather than just say goodbye and hang up the phone. I was so blessed to be loved, and so blessed to have the chance again to love my people in person - with affectionate touch, or gifts, or even just eye contact.

I was healed in some really significant ways by community, and reflected on the magic of Christmas. In the middle of this messy world, and my messy life, God incarnate came to Earth to give us direct and complete communion with him - which we often find through each other. We are the Body. Get it? I felt like I really did (and do) get it.

Heading home

2009-12-17T11:27:00.000-08:00

That´s right. I´ll be home for just a bit, arriving tomorrow around noon and leaving around 4 on January 3rd. I can´t wait to be there and spend time with my friends and family, more than anything, really. But just for fun, here´s a list of some other things I´m looking forward to:

1. Oklahoma Joe´s
2. A friend´s wedding
3. Jacob´s Well (which, for all that it means to me, could be a list all its own, including the following 2 items)
4. Lunch Bunch
5. Sunday Night Jam
6. POC
7. Cigars with the boys
8. A moment´s quiet, without the honking of buses and their accompany fumes, the barking of dogs, cockadoodledoodling of roosters, screams of children, blaring reggaton, or the tv. just peace and quiet, particularly in the following two situations:
9. A walk all by myself on my favorite trail at Shawnee Mission Park
10. A trail run at Swope with an old friend
11. Some possible late night escapades with the good ol´ bike gang
12. The Hot Club of Cowtown Dec. 30th at Knuckleheads
13. Christmas (duh)
14. Real beer
15. Real cheese
16. Plaza lights
17. Lavender Lace Tea
18. Broomball (let´s make it happen people)
19. You Say Tomato
20. McCoy´s
21. Being cold

And on and on. In the interest of tying up my last loose ends, I´m gonna leave this at 21 and finish up before I head out! If you have anything to add to the list, put it down der in the comments section. Love you guys!

Retreat, Antigua, Tow, Christmas, Futbol

2009-12-14T06:07:00.000-08:00

Lots to report on here from a full weekend.
We had a staff prayer retreat in Antigua last friday. We kicked the day off with some breakfast. From L to the back and then up the right side: Giselle (Admistration and Accounting), Me, Gaby (Paralegal), Bea (Paralegal), Joanna (Australian Social Work Fellow), Luis (Lawyer), Name Withheld, Marisol (kind of hidden, Office Manager and Maid), Delmi (Social Worker), Jessica (Lawyer, Director of the Legal Department, my boss), Alejandra (Guatemalan Legal Intern), Silvia (Guatemalan Legal Intern). Not pictured: Pablo (Field Office Director), Alex (Church Relations Intern), Miriam (Director of Social Work), Alejandro (Guatemalan Legal Intern).

Luis took a holy nap during quiet time.

We played a game that put us all in ridiculous positions that made me and Alejandra laugh a whole lot.

See?

Later, my car broke down and I had to tow it back to the city. Good thing I have free roadside assistance!

Putting up some Christmas decorations with the family. If I´m an adoptive son of Candy (right), then Joanna is my sister-in-law. That´s my "cousin" in the middle.

Our maid Emma. This was a rare moment of animated laughter. Great.

The family. Victor, Candy, Me, Joanna, Victor Jr.

This Coca Cola water tower looking thing is right in the middle of the legal district. Out of place and beautiful. I´ll get a better shot later on.

We went to a semi-final soccer game yesterday. Our team, Municipal, is called the Rojos (Reds). I came with Joanna, Victor, and Alex (not pictured).

Gameplay.

There was a kind of absurd amount of fireworks, smoke bombs, and of course, shouting.

I´m shocked.

People were happy about the win.

Frustrations and Hilarious Latin Americanness

2009-12-07T07:47:00.000-08:00

When you live in the developing world, you begin to notice some big differences - or at least some idiosynrancies that stick out like a sore thumb to American eyes. For example:

Yesterday, the biggest intersection in this, the capital city, was shut down in order to make the world´s longest pizza chain in the world. First of all, you need to understand that when an intersection that big is shut down here, there´s no going around the block, and there´s no u-turning to backtrack and find a way around. Almost all of the streets here are one-way, and there doesn´t tend to be much of a grid to the system. I ended up going 2 miles out of the way the other direction, weaving my way to the airport, and going a back way to the road that comes out on the other side of the world´s longest pizza chain. I found out today that there was no pizza-making actually happening at the event. Nope, they were taping pizzas in delivery boxes together. Something to be proud of indeed.

On a similar note, the only road that goes into my town directly from the city was basically shut down the other day for a Christmas parade. This meant that for most people going into the town (who had no warning or signage to help them out) ended up turning a 20 minute drive into a two hour drive. Bummer. I, fortunately, had some foreknowledge and turned the curse into a blessing - taking yet another backway that loops way out over the top of the mountain the town sits on, around the bend, and down a long road into town. This way turns out be pretty naturey, lacking the smog and smells and noise of most of the rest of this continent (or at least it´s major cities). It also turned out to be the same road I ran up last Wednesday on an hour and a half excursion beyond the city limits. In my half running-half walking it turns out (based on my car´s odometer) that I covered about 9 miles that day. Not bad.

Finally, yesterday there happened to be some kind of revival happening in the streets just a few blocks from my house. I don´t think noise ordinances exist here, and if they do, I´m absolutely certain they're not enforced. Trying to get some Sunday afternoon R & R in my room, I was distracted by the very loud Merengue worship music and some preacher screaming at me (and everyone else within 2 or 3 miles) about Jesus. As much as I love Jesus, I don´t much love anyone screaming at people about him - much less telling people about him when it comes from a desire to "win" souls, rather than as an overflow of our love for friends, family, neighbors, and enemies. I made another blessing out of this cursed yelling and headed uphill to the only green space in my gated community with my guitar, where I was somehow able to get above the all the noise and actually commune with our Lord. How ironic.

And that´s just the kind of lesson you learn in a place like this - feeling far from home and culturally disoriented (because I know that if I grew up here probably all of the above would not really phase me), I can either get frustrated and grumpy (which I´ve done plenty of), or I can adjust and make the most of things. I´m learning to do the latter more and more. Forget how you thought it would be, forget your plan, forget wishing it was different, forget what it´s like at home - and make the most of it. I can´t imagine how potent those lessons may be by the time I´ve been here for 6 more months and begin transitioning home. I´m sure I´ll feel some cultural dizzyness there too.

The Great Adventure With Rachee Bee

2009-11-30T13:05:00.000-08:00

Hey Friends. Sorry it´s been a while since I´ve posted. Life is good here, and certainly moving and changing - but in sublte ways. The basic format is still: wake up at 6:30, iron clothes, eat egg and fruit breakfast, driving down the hill and up again and around the roundabout and end up at the office, where I more or less sit at a desk from 8 to 5 and enter data, do some filing, go to meetings, or run out to meet with public prosecutors, etc. Drive home around the roundabouts, down the hill and up again (or stop in Zone 10 for dinner and/or a movie), go home. Run. Practice guitar. Eat dinner. Do some skyping or reading (currently: The Gift of Good Land, Chasing Francis, and the Gospels). Hit the sack. There are of course the day to day changes and interruptions. I´ve had the pleasure of getting more involved with my church lately, and tomorrow I´m going to see the Messiah performed at the national theater.

A more remarkable interruption, though, is the recent visit of Rachel. She flew in on Tuesday and left on Sunday. What happened in between was a great time. We went to the old colonial capital, Antigua, and enjoyed the metropolitan atmosphere, cobble stone streets, ruins of centuries old churches (and the still standing structures of others), and some great food. We then headed back to the city, hopped an overnight bus, and the next morning woke up in the jungle province of the north, known as the Petén. We had breakfast at the island town of Flores, then took a shuttle to the lakeside town of El Remate, where we holed up at a french-run hotel for two nights. Swimming off the idylic thatch-roof dock, eating at the same reliably delicious restaurant for every meal (they even served a real Thanksgiving meal!), walking around, shooting pool (that´s right), and resting (I think there was at least one nap in every day!).

We also went to nearby Tikal, the ruins of one of the largest, most powerful city-states of Mayan days of old. The stone-built temples, houses, and other structures were astoundingly gigantic, and the presence of history seemed to breathe with the wind in that place. Really a dramatic wasteland of power fallen, and jungle encroaching - just a shell of grandeur for our touristic voyeurism into the lives of a people long gone. We took the bus back to the city on Saturday, and had breakfast with my host family on Sunday morning, before I took Rachel to the airport and sent her back to Kansas. I know pictures tell at least a thousand words each, though, so check these out below. All of the Tikal and El Remate pictures are on Rachee Bee´s camera, so we´ll have to wait for her to email those or put em up on her flickr or something.

The Great Adventure Pictures Part I

2009-11-30T12:06:00.000-08:00

Trimming back the hedges. Don´t worry. I asked if we could take a picture. They were really nice.

We found what looks like a meeting place for some Guatemalan Boy Scouts. I swear Rachel was more excited about this than me.

There's something like 20 churches in the tiny town of Antigua. This is one of them.

Rachel´s art shot.

Rachel was insistent on taking a picture of me jumping on this roof. I didn´t realize until later that she got it in a series.

At a giant tourist-friendly shop, Rachel found a comfortable place to rest in the arms of her savior.

We stopped at a mirador (scenic overlook) on the way back from Antigua which overlooks the entire Guatemala City metro area. I live somewhere towards the right of the picture.

Rio Dulce

2009-11-09T12:42:00.000-08:00

A couple weekends ago Alex and I went to Rio Dulce, a town a little ways inland from the Caribbean on a river of the same name.

We stayed in this sweet screened in shack. All we heard at night were the jungle animals doing their thing. Pretty and relaxing. A great place to read and swim (of which we did a lot).

We walked into town to catch a bus through the outlying ranch country to see a certain waterfall (see next).

We went to a place called Finca Paraíso. That waterfall is fed by a hotspring = hotwaterfall. Hott.

We also kayaked across the bay to this castle. It was built in the 1500´s to keep pirates off the mainland and out of the harbor. The pirates, of course, commandeered it. Shiver me timbers.

The castle courtyard.

Over my right shoulder you can barely see a mess of shipmasts, that´s where we stayed (and where we kayaked from). We had to to kayak back as that more imposing mass of rain you see moved over the water. It was an epic aquatic adventure.

More Castle.

More news: since our trip to Rio Dulce, I have gotten sick, gotten better, and found a church. Hooray!

Finca envy

2009-10-29T10:03:00.001-07:00

So last Friday I came into work prepared for an all-day legal team meeting - a marathon affair (I hear) involving lots of coffee and a review of every single active case (and I can´t even count how many that is. 20? 30?). I was just preparing myself for my first legal team meeting when one of the Guatemalan paralegals told me the meeting was canceled and we had a big errand to run instead. It turned out that only of the paralegals (out of two, plus three Guatemalan interns, and then me) knew how to get to a certain public prosecutor´s office in a town called San Juan Sacatepéquez, so we were assigned to literally drive to it, and then drive back (really).

The drive was over an hour long, and about fifteen minutes into it we left the capital city limits and wound our way through farming territory. I rolled the window down and drank in the cool mountain air and ogled the terrace-farming techniques, high-tunnel-like structures specifically made for the hills, and the entire families (school is out here until January for most kids) working the fields with hand tools (which is our past and eventual future, people).

I was envious. Now. I know I´ve got a great opportunity to do a lot of good and get some experience in an office environment working for something I believe in and using some of my talents. But still... I couldn´t help but wish I was out there with them: breathing clean air (not the deathfog emitted from city buses and industry), working with my whole body, and getting dirty. The appeal was overwhelming. Not to say that I´ve given up on the office thing. I´m still doing my job well. I´m still in this for the long haul. But the experience was telling.

We returned to the city and to work. Not much has changed here in a general sense - but some other noteworthy events have taken place. See below.

Fotos

2009-10-29T09:14:00.001-07:00

Last night Lerae and I were driving home after seeing a movie. In the middle of the city, at about 10 PM, for no noticeable reason whatsoever, there was a fireworks show. We pulled over at a gas station to watch it. Latin America often doesn´t make any sense, and usually that´s frustrating. This was just a nice surprise.

My friends from Lawrence, Jennifer (left) and Sally (right) came to visit for a night on their way to El Salvador to work with a community development organization for six months. It was really nice to see them. Check out their blog.

Last week my host dad, Victor Sr., pointed out this rainbow (arcoiris) from our porch.

On Día de la Revolución (a national holiday) we went to a spa in a nearby town for its volcano-heated hot pools, cool pools, and absurdly cheap massages. It also happens to be a castle.

My roommate/coworker Lerae and I went to the zoo near our house a couple of weeks ago. I know. It´s a zoo. But it´s a cheap, quiet, safe place to sit outside and read. We´re talking $2.50. I´d pay that much for all of the above without the animals in this loud, dangerous, smoggy city!

I dress up everyday, including fedora and briefcase. Sometimes there´s even a pocketwatch involved.

Fireworks.

Urban Husbandry in Mixco, Guatemala

2009-10-16T14:24:00.000-07:00

So part of my job is to go to government offices and get documents processed/signed/paid-attention-to faster. Yesterday I was doing just that with a coworker in the suburb of Mixco, when I noticed some seriously small-scale urban food production going on. Right there, in the middle of the city, just outside of the public prosecutor´s office, was a herd of goats. And right there, in the middle of the city, was a lady milking one of these goats into a styrofoam cup for a businessy-looking customer waiting nearby.

If food systems can get any smaller than this, I truly don´t know how. Maybe if she´d skipped the styrofoam cup...?

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Not much else to report on here. I´ve been reading an impressively dull (and yet intriguing) case brief for the last four days and I finally finished a few minutes ago - so I thought I´d check in. I should be starting a special project compiling all the old verdicts from old cases for easy reference beginning next week - this squeezed around daily trips to various offices in and around the city.

I´m still getting into my routine, but it´s beginning to look like: a long day of work followed by a run, sit-ups, reading (currently Blood Meridian, Psalm 86, and The Best of Outside), journaling, playing guitar (and missing my bluegrass buddies), a Skype call to someone back home, and maybe an episode of The Office with my roommate Lerae, all followed by going to sleep with earplugs in so that a nearby rooster (which crows all night), won´t keep me up.

This weekend I plan on climbing Volcán Pacaya (which you can see from my window in Boca del Monte) and celebrating an acquaintance’s birthday. Hope everyone out there is doing well. If you´re not digging autumn or winter back in the States, just know that I´m missing them both geographically and in my heart. Aprovechen.

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Currently listening to: "When I First Came To This Country" by Crooked Still (unreleased, but available for listening here - I have literally listened to this song at least 20 times today) and Crooked Still's fiddle player's myspace.

Pictures

2009-10-09T08:17:00.000-07:00

Alex on the roof in Antigua.

The view from my room.

Victor Jr., Me, and Alex.

First Days in Guate

2009-10-09T08:09:00.000-07:00

It has been a week since I first arrived here in Guatemala and I´ve been meaning to blog, but have been so busy. As a result, I have much to report to you, and I think we should start at the beginning.

When I arrived last Tuesday night, I wound my way through the airport to the baggage claim and grabbed my guitar and giant pack, but no giant plastic tote ever came down the conveyer belt. I was thrown into a world of Spanish as I had to ask how to get my missing tote, and was surprised by how quickly the language came back to me. A good sign. I had actually been quite apprehensive in the plane, remembering how hard it had been in Costa Rica and feeling the absence of each of you. It was nice to feel some immediate linguistic confidence, and even better to finally emerge from the airport and spot three of my comrades waiting for me. There was Joanna, the aussie Aftercare Fellow, her Guatemalan husband Victor (they got married a few months ago, and I´m now living with Victor´s parents, Candy and Victor Sr.), and Alex Fine, the Church Relations intern. Somehow we immediately recognized each other and they took me home to Candy and Victor´s in a suburb of Guatemala City called Boca del Monte.

Candy and Victor are very nice and immediately made me feel at home with some soup and rice and beans (pretty standard fare around here). They put me up in Victor Jr.´s old room with a view that looks up at Volcán (that´s Spanish for Volcano) Pacaya and down on the city. The next day I settled in in the morning and then ran some errands with Victor Jr. (including getting my tote from the airport). We met Jo and Alex for lunch at Tacontento where our friend Christian works. I started work the next day (Thursday). Everyone at the office was very welcoming. I spent the day reading an orientation packet, which I have been reviewing along with the penal code ever since, except for attending the final arguements of a trial on Friday which was very intense and which I could only tell you more about if you asked (legally).

The Communications Intern, Lerae, had been nannying on IJM business in the old colonial capital Antigua, about forty-five minutes from Guatemala City, so Jo, Victor Jr., Alex, Christian, and I all went out to visit. We were welcomed by the family for whom Lerae was nannying into one of the most beautiful bungalows I´ve ever seen. This place, like the rest of Antigua, was all colonial-style architecture with corner fireplaces, tile floors, mosaics, a courtyard with a fountain, a rooftop patio (with a view of yet another volcano), and heaps (I also happen to be working on my Australian) of Latin American art. We dined in and then went out to a discoteca (para bailar... y tomar un poco).

The next day we walked the cobblestone streets of Antigua, winding our way through Mayan weavers (and vendors), food stalls, and families out for the weekend. We ate at a pretty famous (for which I have no name or pictures, of course). I sat in Bill Clinton´s chair. We hung around the town center for a while. Antigua is, in many ways, the antithesis of Guatemala City. It is quieter (they just passed an ordinance against honking - which goes a very long way in Latin America), cleaner, and much more walkable. It was a nice respite.

Later in the afternoon we headed back to the city and ate dinner together that night. Sunday was spent much like my Sundays in the states: church, lunch, a nap and some reading, dinner, bed. So as I finish this up I sit here at my desk drinking mate, listening to some good ol´ American bluegrass on my ipod, and preparing to read the Codigo Procesal Penal some more. That´s my life right now. A very confusing and exciting mix of cultures and people. I know this will get hard, but for now it´s almost completely new and exciting. I´ve felt so welcomed by my coworkers and hosts. I think it helps that we are all united by a very common purpose and calling in a way that I never experienced while I was in Costa Rica. I have felt the provision of God in these new friends, coworkers, and host family. In some ways this city feels familiarly like San Jose. I´m not so shocked by some of the harder things that are just part of Latin American city life (trash, traffic, bus fumes, the parade of people, stalls, and well, Spanish). I´m still excited by some of the better things (committment to family life, food, music everywhere, etc.).

Missing all the folks back home but comfortably and happily diving into life here.

Just Beginning

2009-09-22T13:46:00.000-07:00

Dear friends,

I am new to blogging, but not to traveling. I'll be doing a whole lot more of both very soon, and want you to come along for the ride. Check back here soon for a real update.

lots of love,
David