Dear Diary,
Its been a while since my last entry... Been pretty busy and out of touch. As my last entry mentioned, May has been a very trying month with my boys. The week before my third descanso brought more interesting situations in the house. Senora Bea, the lady in charge of the kids who stays at the orphanage (not the head director), involved herself with my boys more and more as the days wore on. It seemed like every free moment the boys were supposed to have was taken away from them and she forced them to clean. It grew very tiresome for them and for me, as I was forced to stay with them and help organize the cleaning. These cleaning sessions might at first have been necessary for them to get back in touch with how their rooms should be cleaned and how their chores should be done, but after a while, these punishments did not serve a purpose. If these punishments were given for them to behave better, it surely was not working. The wake up hour was changed from five in the morning to four in the morning. Around this same time, I found out that for some reason, Senora Bea had some problems with me and I guess found it hard to talk to me. I tried to talk to her about this several times, but I most often found that these conversations would end in her rambling on about how the cat has fleas, and avoiding the issue of some type of bad communication between us. Whatever the case may have been, I left for my third descanso angry at her, very tired, extremely sick, and not understanding why my kids could not understand how to follow simple rules.
The company on my third descanso was a charming little lady named Leigh Ann. A nurse from Tennessee, she came to the casa thinking she might help in the clinic, and ended up being a teacher for the pre-k class. Having similar tastes in music and many philosophies to discuss we set off to explore more of Guatemala. Traveling north, we visited a beautiful lake, Lago Petez Itza situated next to Tikal, the ruins of a Mayan civilization about 1500 years old. Traveling back down south from the Peten along the Mexican border, we got into an interesting situation trying to push a broken down pickup truck with no lights towards a town we had no idea the location of - not to be worried though, we hitched a ride with some other friendly locals who put us in the back of their truck where there were a few lively chickens. Then, another stop off in the north west at a national park called Laguna Lachua, a beautiful, untouched lake, where the fish did not know the danger of being fished, and where I accidentally swam a lot closer to crocodiles than I would have normally if I knew they were there. From there, it took a lot longer to get to Lago Atitlan than we imagined, because we ended up taking the smaller, unpaved roads through the Alta Veracruz, the Highlands. Besides the twisting and turning of our small micro bus and the rocky, muddy roads, a huge landslide at one point separated us from our destination. Hiking over this landslide to get to the other side of the road where we could pick up another bus and continue our travels provided some very comical situations. Arriving in Lago Atitlan, where I spent my first descanso, we met up with an old volunteer and returned her green backpack we´d been lugging along our whole break. We broke up the trip back to Rio Dulce, staying in Antigua, a the old colonial capital of Guatemala, where old Spanish churches sat in ruin next to coffee shops and comedores. It was a lot of traveling, but it being my last time to travel around a country I´ve found so beautiful and visit with local people I´ve found so friendly, it was well worth the countless hours in the buses.
I am now back at the orhpanage. It is weird to be back knowing that I have only two weeks left. Daniel, who I had been working with previously, changed positions after having some incidents with the kids. There is a new orientador, Marc, from Spain, who I am handing off all of my expertise to. He will take over the captains chair when I leave. So far, it seems we have the same philosophies on how to handle situations and how to mold these children´s lives, and so I think it will be a smooth transition. After initiating a couple new systems in the house, the kids seem to be responding well. Their behavior seems to have improved. Either that, or possibly I am just trying to enjoy my last weeks with them...
New pictures posted. Enjoy.
Looking forward to a music filled June, a good amber beer, and to seeing some familiar faces back in California - not quite a bad place to return home too.
Chris
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Its Already May?
Wow. April has come and gone, and with the arrival May, thunderstorms have also come my way. I swear I did not mean to rhyme, the words just felt right at the time.
So much to say, but so little time. Some words are better than none though. Its been a long couple weeks since I got back from my second descanso. My second descanso, which I took with four other volunteers north to the Peten, and east to the Carribean, was average. It was a much different mood from my first, in which I traveled by myself, but the company was fun, and it was nice getting to know my company at the orphanage outside of those circumstances. Unfortunately, by the end, all of us had fallen under the weather, a serious storm at that. One had blinding jungle eye disease, two others a rare parasite from eating bad ice cream, and Andrea and I, just your normal everyday third world food poisoning. This being said, spirits were only their highest one or two days at the most. In short, Semuc Champey? awesome! Livingston? Skip it. Go to Honduras instead. Pictures are on the right for those who wish to partake in my vacation and my return.
My kids, it seems, have grown accustomed to my face, accustomed to my voice, and accustomed to me. Slowly but surely, their respect and obedience diminished as we became closer friends. This all boiled up in a kettle until I finally had to cut to the gas and put them back where they belong, in their place. Their is a fine line between parent and friend, one that is often times hard to see and easy to cross, but one that most be walked if you are to maintain some sort of order in the house. I continue to learn about myself, and about my work. Each day, new problems arrise, and each has to be dealt with. I find myself being tired, and often times very frustrated with a situation that I don´t neccesarily know how to handle. Some issues get solved; others don´t. The only consistency here is the beans and rice. It seems there is a lack of dinero for the old foodo. But what once I might have noticed as being boring and monotonous, I don´t think twice about, and eat it happily for every meal of the day, every day of the week. That is not to say that the other volunteers and I don´t have some very exciting conversations about food concoctions that we can only get close enough to smell in our dreams.
It is hot down here, so I shaved my head today. It was my first time in a barber shop in Guatemala. Not very different from Linda´s in San Diego.
Now I have to go walk across the bridge back to Fronteras to pick up the externos from school. They don´t really like walking with me back to the boat. I´m that lame babysitter that they don´t want people to know that I take care of them. Or maybe I´m a dead give away that they live at Casa Guatemala? No se.
Happy Birthday to my May friends: Caitlin, Alex, T, Melissa, Jimbo. Happy early Mother´s Day. Happy Spring to those that get it.
So much to say, but so little time. Some words are better than none though. Its been a long couple weeks since I got back from my second descanso. My second descanso, which I took with four other volunteers north to the Peten, and east to the Carribean, was average. It was a much different mood from my first, in which I traveled by myself, but the company was fun, and it was nice getting to know my company at the orphanage outside of those circumstances. Unfortunately, by the end, all of us had fallen under the weather, a serious storm at that. One had blinding jungle eye disease, two others a rare parasite from eating bad ice cream, and Andrea and I, just your normal everyday third world food poisoning. This being said, spirits were only their highest one or two days at the most. In short, Semuc Champey? awesome! Livingston? Skip it. Go to Honduras instead. Pictures are on the right for those who wish to partake in my vacation and my return.
My kids, it seems, have grown accustomed to my face, accustomed to my voice, and accustomed to me. Slowly but surely, their respect and obedience diminished as we became closer friends. This all boiled up in a kettle until I finally had to cut to the gas and put them back where they belong, in their place. Their is a fine line between parent and friend, one that is often times hard to see and easy to cross, but one that most be walked if you are to maintain some sort of order in the house. I continue to learn about myself, and about my work. Each day, new problems arrise, and each has to be dealt with. I find myself being tired, and often times very frustrated with a situation that I don´t neccesarily know how to handle. Some issues get solved; others don´t. The only consistency here is the beans and rice. It seems there is a lack of dinero for the old foodo. But what once I might have noticed as being boring and monotonous, I don´t think twice about, and eat it happily for every meal of the day, every day of the week. That is not to say that the other volunteers and I don´t have some very exciting conversations about food concoctions that we can only get close enough to smell in our dreams.
It is hot down here, so I shaved my head today. It was my first time in a barber shop in Guatemala. Not very different from Linda´s in San Diego.
Now I have to go walk across the bridge back to Fronteras to pick up the externos from school. They don´t really like walking with me back to the boat. I´m that lame babysitter that they don´t want people to know that I take care of them. Or maybe I´m a dead give away that they live at Casa Guatemala? No se.
Happy Birthday to my May friends: Caitlin, Alex, T, Melissa, Jimbo. Happy early Mother´s Day. Happy Spring to those that get it.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Long Time, No Blog
Dear Diary,
Here I sit at the internet cafe in Fronteras. Its Saturday night, and I´ve managed to make it out with some of the other volunteers for some dinner and relaxation. As it just so happens, I am once again the only male out with about nine other female volunteers, which is not so bad of odds; although no one is gambling and I never win anything. What I do consider winning though, is being able to sit in front of a computer with a bag of chips and a Carta Blanca beer. At two cervezas for 10 Quetzal, this Mexican import is far from outstanding, but nonetheless a refreshing delight after weeks of Atol (some sort of hot drink they make with flour and water) and Rice Water (not bad). The internet cafe overlooks the main drag in Fronteras, and is far from relaxing: huge trucks and busses burn their diesel powering up the street, emitting huge clouds of black exhaust, people impatiently honk their horn waiting for pedestrians carrying tubs of tortillas or chickens to cross the street, and an annoyingly overzealous evangelical lady shouts to passerbyers below about the second coming of the Lord. Its amazing how this small little town in the middle of Guatemala seems like a metropolis after being at the orphanage for three weeks.
The weather. Invierno, and with that the rain, is officially over here in lovely Rio Dulce. I haven´t seen clouds overhead in almost three weeks, and as of two weeks ago, the heat has been overwhelming. It is usually a little over 100F in the sun in the middle of the day and drops down to a cool 80F at night. The moon is getting ever fuller as it makes its way across the night sky, and I have had many relaxing nights falling asleep on the hammock on the deck outside my boys house after I put them to bed, looking up at the moon and the stars, enjoying the lovely breeze, thinking about why little Jairon just had to jump in the river after I´d told him twice not to. Oh he has so much growing up to do. On that note, this is a reminder to apologize to my parents for all the times I disobeyed them or refused to do my chores, although I can only think of one or two select times (ha ha). So with the heat comes a lot of sweat. I walk outside and my shirt is wet, and most of my shirts now simply hang off of my body anyway. So normally I spend most of my day in a bathing suit, shirtless, which makes jumping in the river very easy at any point during the day.
Etcetera. Along with my tasks of whipping these young adults into fine outstanding gentlemen, and doing some writing and math tutoring, I have picked up some extra chores around the casa. This last week, one of our American english teachers, Caileen, returned back to the states, and the other, Claudine, from South Afica, was away on descanso. Needless to say, we needed some people to fill in for english class. I stepped up to the plate like Casey, mighty Casey, although I wouldn´t say that I hit a home run. At first I was a little nervous getting in front of a classroom of kids, but after the first ten minutes, I was on a roll talking about hobbies (nadar = to fish) (hacer joyeria = to make jewelery) etc, and how to use the gerund of these verbs (fishing, making jewelery). Having the class for only a week, and for some reason having only half of my class show up every period, was very discouraging though, and all my heart was just not into. I think I won over the kids hearts though, because I held class down on the dock most of the days. It was a good intro into teaching though, and gave me some confidence should I want to continue that in the future.
On top of the english teaching, I also picked up some shifts with a slightly mentally ill girl, Lisa, who resides at the casa. She is one of the oldest girls, but has some defects which affects her speech and learning, and whether it is part of the mental defect or part of how many of the volunteers have babied her throughout her life (you can probably figure out my point of view), she has some behavioral issues as well. Since she can not attend normal school classes, the volunteers have decided to split her up throughout the day and take shifts doing different things with her, like reading, writing, physical activity, talking, dancing, computer work, etc., all on a one on one basis. As I had already formed some opinions about her situation before I started working with her, it has been good for me to see on a first hand basis just where her mental capacity stands and how far we can get her to behave or learn. I usually swim with her, do some stretching, and talk about life, although the conversation is somewhat limited to her not listening and me not being able to understand what she´s saying.
Aside from the constant growing and expanding of relationships that occurs everyday between my kids and I, there isn´t too much else going on. I continue to meet and become friends with all the other volunteers, each one so unique and loving in their own way. It is always interesting to learn where they come from, what they had been doing, and what brings them to be working at Casa Guatemala. Although every story is different, there is a common thread that runs between all of us here. And I think it is cotton, 100% organic. Either that, or the desire to help humanity in some way, possibly learn a new language while doing it, and have some adventure at the same time. Whatever it is, it is inspiring seeing the courage and generosity of all those who come through here.
Semana Santa begins this week. Most of the kids with families have returned to their villages. Those that remain are the true orphans. We have been doing a lot cleaning in preparation for some presentations that some proffesional speakers will be giving on certain subjects, such as sexuality, morals and ethics, education, and cleanliness. Although there isn´t much talk at the orphanage about Jesus and why most of Guatemala is really celebrating this week holy week, I wish everyone a very happy Easter and hope spring in the States comes with rainbows, lollipops, green, and lots of kittens.
Till next time.
cristobal
Here I sit at the internet cafe in Fronteras. Its Saturday night, and I´ve managed to make it out with some of the other volunteers for some dinner and relaxation. As it just so happens, I am once again the only male out with about nine other female volunteers, which is not so bad of odds; although no one is gambling and I never win anything. What I do consider winning though, is being able to sit in front of a computer with a bag of chips and a Carta Blanca beer. At two cervezas for 10 Quetzal, this Mexican import is far from outstanding, but nonetheless a refreshing delight after weeks of Atol (some sort of hot drink they make with flour and water) and Rice Water (not bad). The internet cafe overlooks the main drag in Fronteras, and is far from relaxing: huge trucks and busses burn their diesel powering up the street, emitting huge clouds of black exhaust, people impatiently honk their horn waiting for pedestrians carrying tubs of tortillas or chickens to cross the street, and an annoyingly overzealous evangelical lady shouts to passerbyers below about the second coming of the Lord. Its amazing how this small little town in the middle of Guatemala seems like a metropolis after being at the orphanage for three weeks.
The weather. Invierno, and with that the rain, is officially over here in lovely Rio Dulce. I haven´t seen clouds overhead in almost three weeks, and as of two weeks ago, the heat has been overwhelming. It is usually a little over 100F in the sun in the middle of the day and drops down to a cool 80F at night. The moon is getting ever fuller as it makes its way across the night sky, and I have had many relaxing nights falling asleep on the hammock on the deck outside my boys house after I put them to bed, looking up at the moon and the stars, enjoying the lovely breeze, thinking about why little Jairon just had to jump in the river after I´d told him twice not to. Oh he has so much growing up to do. On that note, this is a reminder to apologize to my parents for all the times I disobeyed them or refused to do my chores, although I can only think of one or two select times (ha ha). So with the heat comes a lot of sweat. I walk outside and my shirt is wet, and most of my shirts now simply hang off of my body anyway. So normally I spend most of my day in a bathing suit, shirtless, which makes jumping in the river very easy at any point during the day.
Etcetera. Along with my tasks of whipping these young adults into fine outstanding gentlemen, and doing some writing and math tutoring, I have picked up some extra chores around the casa. This last week, one of our American english teachers, Caileen, returned back to the states, and the other, Claudine, from South Afica, was away on descanso. Needless to say, we needed some people to fill in for english class. I stepped up to the plate like Casey, mighty Casey, although I wouldn´t say that I hit a home run. At first I was a little nervous getting in front of a classroom of kids, but after the first ten minutes, I was on a roll talking about hobbies (nadar = to fish) (hacer joyeria = to make jewelery) etc, and how to use the gerund of these verbs (fishing, making jewelery). Having the class for only a week, and for some reason having only half of my class show up every period, was very discouraging though, and all my heart was just not into. I think I won over the kids hearts though, because I held class down on the dock most of the days. It was a good intro into teaching though, and gave me some confidence should I want to continue that in the future.
On top of the english teaching, I also picked up some shifts with a slightly mentally ill girl, Lisa, who resides at the casa. She is one of the oldest girls, but has some defects which affects her speech and learning, and whether it is part of the mental defect or part of how many of the volunteers have babied her throughout her life (you can probably figure out my point of view), she has some behavioral issues as well. Since she can not attend normal school classes, the volunteers have decided to split her up throughout the day and take shifts doing different things with her, like reading, writing, physical activity, talking, dancing, computer work, etc., all on a one on one basis. As I had already formed some opinions about her situation before I started working with her, it has been good for me to see on a first hand basis just where her mental capacity stands and how far we can get her to behave or learn. I usually swim with her, do some stretching, and talk about life, although the conversation is somewhat limited to her not listening and me not being able to understand what she´s saying.
Aside from the constant growing and expanding of relationships that occurs everyday between my kids and I, there isn´t too much else going on. I continue to meet and become friends with all the other volunteers, each one so unique and loving in their own way. It is always interesting to learn where they come from, what they had been doing, and what brings them to be working at Casa Guatemala. Although every story is different, there is a common thread that runs between all of us here. And I think it is cotton, 100% organic. Either that, or the desire to help humanity in some way, possibly learn a new language while doing it, and have some adventure at the same time. Whatever it is, it is inspiring seeing the courage and generosity of all those who come through here.
Semana Santa begins this week. Most of the kids with families have returned to their villages. Those that remain are the true orphans. We have been doing a lot cleaning in preparation for some presentations that some proffesional speakers will be giving on certain subjects, such as sexuality, morals and ethics, education, and cleanliness. Although there isn´t much talk at the orphanage about Jesus and why most of Guatemala is really celebrating this week holy week, I wish everyone a very happy Easter and hope spring in the States comes with rainbows, lollipops, green, and lots of kittens.
Till next time.
cristobal
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Tidbit
Its about 7:30 here in Rio Dulce, Guatemala. Its a little below 20 C and its slightly raining. The kids are inside the comedor watching a flic. This hour or so of activity after dinner gives me a little time to do somthing on my own. sometimes i´ll play some guitar on the dock in front of the office, sometimes i hang with the kids, and sometimes i use the net, like tonight, although the connections a little slow, so i´d rather not bother most of the time.
today was a good day. after a late wake up, cause it was the weekend (645 am), we had some breakfast, did chores, etc., and i went to the volunteer house and made myself a dank cup of joe. After playing some guitar, I did some drawing in the ´ol notebook. Its a drawing i´m happy to have, cause it actually looks good. some drawings are better than others. just like my days here i guess. i found out today that although i don´t live in the volunteer house, i have to pay 10Q a week for propane for a stove and coffee and sugar, and also have my name on some chores. needless to say, i´m spending a lot more time there, and making a lot more coffee. my chore today was to gather all the garbage in the house and take it to the basurero, where they pile the garbage and burn it. this included although waste paper from the toilets, as we can´t through that down the bowl. handling that load and putting a match to that pile was probably the hightlight of my week and i can´t wait for the next time i get chosen for that chore. (lots of sarcasm there, if you didn´t catch it) . After lunch, me and the other orientador of the varones grandes, Manuel, a 31 year old from Spain, took our boys, 27 of them (several went home for the weekend, several stayed behind) on a 6 km walk to Rio Frio. The walk takes us south away from the river, through several fields of grazing cattle, and down on to another, smaller river, set nicely in the jungle. after some rope swinging and tree diving, we had some watermelon and cookies, and went back to the house. i did the same walk yesterday, but with the little kids, and had to carry a large pot of spaghetti, so i didn´t enjoy myself as much yesterday. plus, the little kids stop often to eat dirt and cry, and things always take longer.
dinner was pretty good tonight. beans and rice. i think i might have tasted some celery in the rice. it was a good crunch. that´s about it for the day. i think the movie´s done, so i gotta go put the kids to bed. its eight oclock. getting late....
shot out to my brother jon. happy early birthday bro.
today was a good day. after a late wake up, cause it was the weekend (645 am), we had some breakfast, did chores, etc., and i went to the volunteer house and made myself a dank cup of joe. After playing some guitar, I did some drawing in the ´ol notebook. Its a drawing i´m happy to have, cause it actually looks good. some drawings are better than others. just like my days here i guess. i found out today that although i don´t live in the volunteer house, i have to pay 10Q a week for propane for a stove and coffee and sugar, and also have my name on some chores. needless to say, i´m spending a lot more time there, and making a lot more coffee. my chore today was to gather all the garbage in the house and take it to the basurero, where they pile the garbage and burn it. this included although waste paper from the toilets, as we can´t through that down the bowl. handling that load and putting a match to that pile was probably the hightlight of my week and i can´t wait for the next time i get chosen for that chore. (lots of sarcasm there, if you didn´t catch it) . After lunch, me and the other orientador of the varones grandes, Manuel, a 31 year old from Spain, took our boys, 27 of them (several went home for the weekend, several stayed behind) on a 6 km walk to Rio Frio. The walk takes us south away from the river, through several fields of grazing cattle, and down on to another, smaller river, set nicely in the jungle. after some rope swinging and tree diving, we had some watermelon and cookies, and went back to the house. i did the same walk yesterday, but with the little kids, and had to carry a large pot of spaghetti, so i didn´t enjoy myself as much yesterday. plus, the little kids stop often to eat dirt and cry, and things always take longer.
dinner was pretty good tonight. beans and rice. i think i might have tasted some celery in the rice. it was a good crunch. that´s about it for the day. i think the movie´s done, so i gotta go put the kids to bed. its eight oclock. getting late....
shot out to my brother jon. happy early birthday bro.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Lost in the Jungle
First of all, a big hello and hug to all of my friends and family. For a while there, I thought that I might not be able to ever write again.
Next, a story that started yesterday, in the dawn hours of Monday morning, March 9, and ended this morning, March 10. As I have a pretty good amount of it written in my journal, I will copy what I´ve written there. Give yourself plenty of time to read this. Its gets a little long winded.
It goes as follows: everything in quotes is in my journal. outside of the quotes, clarifying comments.
¨10 March, 09, Tuesday - 6:30 am - somewhere on the jungle floor in the South Western slope of Volcan San Pedro - If only I could have imagined how much those limes and avocados would come in handy when I recieved them Sunday night¨ ( the night before, while I was getting ready to crawl in my tent on the beach in Santiago Atitlan, I helped a family load heavy bags of lemons onto their boat. I did not ask for anything in return, but when we finished, the child gave me three green onions, about five limes, and five avocados. These are the fruits to which I am referring).
¨The story goes as follows: Waking up early Monday morning, Salvador, the old Guatemalan, reassured me that I wouldn´t get lost, it was safe, and I needed no guide to ascend Volcan San Pedro. Feeling reassured, we set off in his kayak across the lake to the eastern slopes of Volcan San Pedro. He walked up with me to a fork in the path, showing me the right one to take, charged me 50Q for his services, and left. Already my pack seemed to be weighing me down. At first I passed through sloped farmland of coffee and maize, and looking back gave me beautiful views of Santiago, the guardian volcanos Atitlan and Toliman behind it and the sun rising to warm the valley. Smoke and fog lingered above the little villages..
¨The walk was by no means easy. My pack was heavy (probably 40-50 lbs) and the trail steep. I clocked the start time to be 7:05 am. At around 8:30, I took a ´pack-off´break, had a pb and j, and eat an avocado as well. I cut up some lime, and squeezed some of the juice into my canteen, to spice up the water and provide some extra energy and Vitamin C. At around nine, I found a deserted camp with some long sturdy branches and fashioned myself some walking sticks. As the morning wore on, it bcame harder and harder to climb. My feet ached, and the path was very steep. I would walk maybe 20 paces and then have to stop, catch my breath, look up, wonder how much further, and continue. I cam to rely heavily on the two walking sticks for support and as two extra legs. At times, the path did not seem like a path for humans, but like a path made by animals, ascending the cliff straight up. I was crowded in on all sides by tall grass, bushes, etc. The further up I got, the more crowded it got, and the less it seemed like a path. The three hours that Salvador said it would take passed painfully slow, and I had not made it to the top. At about noon, I stopped for another PB&J and avocado break, and continued up. I was extremely tired, my body ached, and I was beginning to wonder if I´d make it to San Pedro that day. The only way I figured I´d make it was if there were shuttles at the top, taking people back down. I imagined the top being a little more civilized and accessible to people, like Mt. Tam, Volcan Poas in Costa Rica. I was also low on water. (I´d only brought with me about 3L). My canteen was full, but the 1.5L plastic bottle was already drained. I hoped someone might be at the top at least with more water. Around 12:30, I started calling out to see if anybody could hear me, a signal that maybe I was close to the top. No response. The clouds above me coming from the volcano seemed close, so I figured I was close too. That kept my drive to get there up. I finally arrived, crawling over some steep boulders, to the top, or part of it, around 1:10 pm, after six hours or so of climbing. The volcano is about 3000 meters high... The top was a collection of boulders, and although trees still blocked my view south west into the volcano, I had beautiful views northward toward the lake. There was another hill to the west, so I had no view over there either, toward San Pedro. Pondering my situation, I decided no one was there to help and I could set up camp or continue on. It was too early for camp, and after a thirty minute rest, and after eating a lime to suck out all the water (a practice I learned was very valuable), I figured I had enough energy to continue on. I just had to make it somewhere! The ´path´wasn´t clearly marked as Salvador had told me, and I soon found myself down between the two top hills fighting my way through branches to the top of the second hill. Before I could get there, I saw a marker and a path ad was joyful once again. I did not want to get lost in the jungle. Well that path soon disappeared and I found myself walking down the hill southwesterly, over a ´path´that either someone had crudely made or water flowing down the hill had made. This soon ended and now I was fighting my way down the hill, through vines, plants, trees, branches, rocks and dirt. Now I was covered in dirt and who knows what else, and I found myself at times sliding down dirt, or rolling over and around vines and plants that seemed to wrap up my body and limbs and prevent me from going futher. After a while of this, and at a point of desperation, I saw a glimpse of a cleared hill, with a street, in front of me, although it was hard to say how close it actually was. This gave me some hope, and I vowed to make my way toward it, no matter what was in my way. I finally made my way from this dense growth to a ravine that cut its way between two large hills of tropical forest. Although it was dry, the growth here was not as dense, and it was a little easier going. This was much easier, but there was still long slides, and at times ten or 15 ft. dropoffs that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. One dropoff I was trying to lower myself down by holding on to a tree branch, when the branch broke loose and I plummeted to the ground below. Luckily I did not break anything. On another dropoff, I threw my bag down first, then rock climbed down, using tree roots as rope to help lower me down. By this point, I´d lost my water bottles (the little I had left), a devastating blow, my sandals which were attached at the side of my pack, and my lucky Iron Springs sweatshirt. I stopped to eat a mango somewhere around this time. I ate it savagely, not caring about dirt or any bacteria that might have been on the skin, and it was one of the most delicious fruits I´d ever eaten. It gave me a little more energy to continue on. I vowed I would continue until I couldn´t see anymore. I had to be close to that road and civilization... I´d heard that there were robbers that assaulted tourists on these volcanoes. At this point, I would have welcomed one of them into sight, for I would have loved the companionship, and they might have been able to show me off the volcano. I got out my nightlite, as it was getting darker. On another fall I lost the hat I´d boughten the previous saturday. Although my bones and muscles were fine (Just really sore), the rest of my body was covered in dirt and who knows what else. My skin was cut up from passing through sharp leaves and vines, falling on rocks, and sliding hands over vines, trying to hold on before a fall or slide. I saw an opening in the path - it was where a landslide had sometime recently occurred. I was tired and took off my pack and thought about setting up camp. After hearing some more pebbles fall down there, I decided to move further down, in case the land decided to fall more during the night. With the little strength I had left, I moved further down the ravine, and there I found I decently sized clear space, at least enough for my tent, on the jungle floor, underneath the canopy. I decided to make camp there for the night. It was close to 6 pm, the time the sun always sets here in Guatemala. I set up the tent in the crowded, small space. My brother Dan´s first aid kit came in clutch. I tended my wounds as best I could, just cleaning and bandaging some cuts and scrapes. I made another pb&j but it was hard to swallow without any saliva. The roof of my mouth hurt lots. I laid down on my sleeping bag. It felt so good to lay down. I couldn´t stop imagining water to drink. I cut open a lime and ate it, savoring whatever liquid was inside. The water, though bitter, was delicious. So many thoughts racing through my head as I laid down and tried to sleep. Not being able to fall asleep, but realizing its importance, I took a sleeping pill and passed out. That night I dreamt of people finding me in the morning and a town being close by, where there was plenty of water. The people took me to this town, or in some dreams only brought me back some water. Either way, these dreams gave me a sense of hope that night. The exotic bird calls and sounds of crawling things on the jungle floor filled my ears as I feel asleep. I woke up around 6:30 am. Feeling rested. I´m waiting till it gets a little lighter down here on the jungle floor before I get a move on. I need to make it back to civilization today. All the jungle sounds are beautiful. So many birds calling out. Leaves rustling behind me. Can´t see what it is... a bird, some other animal? Thoughts of robbers seem welcome right now. I´d like to see another human. Maybe he´d have water... ¨
PART TWO
¨10:00 am, March 10, 2009 - Cafe Internet - Back safe in civilization - After finally packing up and taking a few pictures of my jungle camp, I set off around 7 am. The ravine I was following seemed more of less to continue, and I could see the sunlight on the hill to my right. I was calm, and proceeded with caution and patience, not the hurried stumbling of the night before. I knew I could not be that far away from civilization. There were some more sudden drop-offs, but I navigated slowly and surely through them, utlizing all my techniques and experience rock climbing. After an hour, I started to get the feeling that it might not end, although I knew something had to change, as the walls were drawing in closer and closer to me on either side. I grew excited as I hit a patch of sunlight and realized that it was coming from behing me, meaning that I was walking west, and not south as I had previously thought. This was pleasant news, because on the map of Lago Atitlan I had, there was much land south of Volcan San Pedro before it hit the street, whereas the road came much closer to the west side of the volcano. Thirty minutes later, I was on a definite path, and there were no more drop-offs. I got excited and my pace quickened, until finally bam! I emerged from the jungle and onto a cleared bit of farmland. It must have been recently cleared or harvested, for nothing was growing. I came to the edge of of this plot and walked south and then I saw the two land paved road to my right. I turned west and finally made it the road. I started walking towards a farmer a little ways down until I saw a taxi van coming. They said they´d give my a lift to San Pedro. I told them my story and told them to take me somewhere I could buy water and use the internet (I had some friends from the orphanage that were staying in San Pedro and I wanted to get ahold of them). They mentioned that we were currently 4 km away from San Pedro. I had almost done it. I had almost made it up over Volcan San Pedro from Santiago, and walked back down the other side to San Pedro, without a guide, my goal in the first place.
As I recalled the prvious day and night, I counted my blessings that I had not sprained or broken any bones, not gotten bitten or stung by any venomous spiders, insects, or snakes, and that I had made it without water or much food for a day and a half in the jungle. As I descended upon the lakesdie village of San Pedro, I started to cry, the experience of the previous day cactching up with me. Not tears could come out though, as I had no water to spare losing.
Our first stop was a store where I bought a large bottle of water, and then we went down towards the lake shore, and they dropped me off at cafe internet. It was about 9:30 am. My journey was finally over.
A few thoughts and reflections about my journey
1. The vasque shoes that I bought in December at REI held up very well throughout this whole endeavor. Barely no blisters, and still completely intact (very dirty though).
2. Thanks to bro Dan for the First Aid Pack he gave me before I left. It helped me feel a little better about myself before I went to bed last night.
3. The Kelty Coyote 4900 backpack that I received for Christmas from my brother in law and sister Mireya held up extremely well throughout the endeavor. No straps or sippers tore or broke. At times, I thought I might ditch it, taking only the top portion, for the top contained the only things I couldn´t replace - namely, the writings in this journal. I´m glad I didn´t leave it behind though. I think it will serve me well for years to come. The experience did make me think though of how easily we get attached to objects and that maybe a part of this experience is the dettachment from these objects, as I was ready at points to leave behind my clothes, pack, sleeping bag, tent, etc.
4. I realized I am small compared to the world, and weak compared to its power. John Franics, the author of Planet Walker, which I´m now reading, often quotes Roderick Nash, a professor of history and enviromental studies at the Univeristy of California. One such quote goes nicely with this fourth reflection. ¨Its good to see natural pwers and processes greater than our own. The lessons of such experiences are precisely what are needed if the human-environment relations are to be harmonious and stable in the long run.¨ This leads in nicely to my fifth reflection.
5. As we drove toward San Pedro, I could see the fires blase the jungle I had just come through to make room for farmland. ALthough upon emerging from the jungle I was happy to see farm and the civilzation it represented, I was now stricken with sadness. If we burn the jungle and exert out ´power´over the earth, where will people go to obtain this ´wilderness education´Nash speaks of. We must do our part to help conserve it, so that future generatios will be able to explore it and come up with meanings of their own...
6. This experience showed the failure of the Morales ´arrogance´that I have taken up as a trait. The pride and can-do attitude is good, except when we let it come before what is logical, safe, and smart. Next time, I will take a guide with me. I can not do everything own my own, and I do not know everything...¨
And that is all. Everyone who made it this far, here are a few suggestions for the day: On your next sip of water, really enjoy it, and be thankful that you have water. Lastly, hug a loved one and tell them how much they mean to you, you never know when you´ll see them again.
-chris.
Next, a story that started yesterday, in the dawn hours of Monday morning, March 9, and ended this morning, March 10. As I have a pretty good amount of it written in my journal, I will copy what I´ve written there. Give yourself plenty of time to read this. Its gets a little long winded.
It goes as follows: everything in quotes is in my journal. outside of the quotes, clarifying comments.
¨10 March, 09, Tuesday - 6:30 am - somewhere on the jungle floor in the South Western slope of Volcan San Pedro - If only I could have imagined how much those limes and avocados would come in handy when I recieved them Sunday night¨ ( the night before, while I was getting ready to crawl in my tent on the beach in Santiago Atitlan, I helped a family load heavy bags of lemons onto their boat. I did not ask for anything in return, but when we finished, the child gave me three green onions, about five limes, and five avocados. These are the fruits to which I am referring).
¨The story goes as follows: Waking up early Monday morning, Salvador, the old Guatemalan, reassured me that I wouldn´t get lost, it was safe, and I needed no guide to ascend Volcan San Pedro. Feeling reassured, we set off in his kayak across the lake to the eastern slopes of Volcan San Pedro. He walked up with me to a fork in the path, showing me the right one to take, charged me 50Q for his services, and left. Already my pack seemed to be weighing me down. At first I passed through sloped farmland of coffee and maize, and looking back gave me beautiful views of Santiago, the guardian volcanos Atitlan and Toliman behind it and the sun rising to warm the valley. Smoke and fog lingered above the little villages..
¨The walk was by no means easy. My pack was heavy (probably 40-50 lbs) and the trail steep. I clocked the start time to be 7:05 am. At around 8:30, I took a ´pack-off´break, had a pb and j, and eat an avocado as well. I cut up some lime, and squeezed some of the juice into my canteen, to spice up the water and provide some extra energy and Vitamin C. At around nine, I found a deserted camp with some long sturdy branches and fashioned myself some walking sticks. As the morning wore on, it bcame harder and harder to climb. My feet ached, and the path was very steep. I would walk maybe 20 paces and then have to stop, catch my breath, look up, wonder how much further, and continue. I cam to rely heavily on the two walking sticks for support and as two extra legs. At times, the path did not seem like a path for humans, but like a path made by animals, ascending the cliff straight up. I was crowded in on all sides by tall grass, bushes, etc. The further up I got, the more crowded it got, and the less it seemed like a path. The three hours that Salvador said it would take passed painfully slow, and I had not made it to the top. At about noon, I stopped for another PB&J and avocado break, and continued up. I was extremely tired, my body ached, and I was beginning to wonder if I´d make it to San Pedro that day. The only way I figured I´d make it was if there were shuttles at the top, taking people back down. I imagined the top being a little more civilized and accessible to people, like Mt. Tam, Volcan Poas in Costa Rica. I was also low on water. (I´d only brought with me about 3L). My canteen was full, but the 1.5L plastic bottle was already drained. I hoped someone might be at the top at least with more water. Around 12:30, I started calling out to see if anybody could hear me, a signal that maybe I was close to the top. No response. The clouds above me coming from the volcano seemed close, so I figured I was close too. That kept my drive to get there up. I finally arrived, crawling over some steep boulders, to the top, or part of it, around 1:10 pm, after six hours or so of climbing. The volcano is about 3000 meters high... The top was a collection of boulders, and although trees still blocked my view south west into the volcano, I had beautiful views northward toward the lake. There was another hill to the west, so I had no view over there either, toward San Pedro. Pondering my situation, I decided no one was there to help and I could set up camp or continue on. It was too early for camp, and after a thirty minute rest, and after eating a lime to suck out all the water (a practice I learned was very valuable), I figured I had enough energy to continue on. I just had to make it somewhere! The ´path´wasn´t clearly marked as Salvador had told me, and I soon found myself down between the two top hills fighting my way through branches to the top of the second hill. Before I could get there, I saw a marker and a path ad was joyful once again. I did not want to get lost in the jungle. Well that path soon disappeared and I found myself walking down the hill southwesterly, over a ´path´that either someone had crudely made or water flowing down the hill had made. This soon ended and now I was fighting my way down the hill, through vines, plants, trees, branches, rocks and dirt. Now I was covered in dirt and who knows what else, and I found myself at times sliding down dirt, or rolling over and around vines and plants that seemed to wrap up my body and limbs and prevent me from going futher. After a while of this, and at a point of desperation, I saw a glimpse of a cleared hill, with a street, in front of me, although it was hard to say how close it actually was. This gave me some hope, and I vowed to make my way toward it, no matter what was in my way. I finally made my way from this dense growth to a ravine that cut its way between two large hills of tropical forest. Although it was dry, the growth here was not as dense, and it was a little easier going. This was much easier, but there was still long slides, and at times ten or 15 ft. dropoffs that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. One dropoff I was trying to lower myself down by holding on to a tree branch, when the branch broke loose and I plummeted to the ground below. Luckily I did not break anything. On another dropoff, I threw my bag down first, then rock climbed down, using tree roots as rope to help lower me down. By this point, I´d lost my water bottles (the little I had left), a devastating blow, my sandals which were attached at the side of my pack, and my lucky Iron Springs sweatshirt. I stopped to eat a mango somewhere around this time. I ate it savagely, not caring about dirt or any bacteria that might have been on the skin, and it was one of the most delicious fruits I´d ever eaten. It gave me a little more energy to continue on. I vowed I would continue until I couldn´t see anymore. I had to be close to that road and civilization... I´d heard that there were robbers that assaulted tourists on these volcanoes. At this point, I would have welcomed one of them into sight, for I would have loved the companionship, and they might have been able to show me off the volcano. I got out my nightlite, as it was getting darker. On another fall I lost the hat I´d boughten the previous saturday. Although my bones and muscles were fine (Just really sore), the rest of my body was covered in dirt and who knows what else. My skin was cut up from passing through sharp leaves and vines, falling on rocks, and sliding hands over vines, trying to hold on before a fall or slide. I saw an opening in the path - it was where a landslide had sometime recently occurred. I was tired and took off my pack and thought about setting up camp. After hearing some more pebbles fall down there, I decided to move further down, in case the land decided to fall more during the night. With the little strength I had left, I moved further down the ravine, and there I found I decently sized clear space, at least enough for my tent, on the jungle floor, underneath the canopy. I decided to make camp there for the night. It was close to 6 pm, the time the sun always sets here in Guatemala. I set up the tent in the crowded, small space. My brother Dan´s first aid kit came in clutch. I tended my wounds as best I could, just cleaning and bandaging some cuts and scrapes. I made another pb&j but it was hard to swallow without any saliva. The roof of my mouth hurt lots. I laid down on my sleeping bag. It felt so good to lay down. I couldn´t stop imagining water to drink. I cut open a lime and ate it, savoring whatever liquid was inside. The water, though bitter, was delicious. So many thoughts racing through my head as I laid down and tried to sleep. Not being able to fall asleep, but realizing its importance, I took a sleeping pill and passed out. That night I dreamt of people finding me in the morning and a town being close by, where there was plenty of water. The people took me to this town, or in some dreams only brought me back some water. Either way, these dreams gave me a sense of hope that night. The exotic bird calls and sounds of crawling things on the jungle floor filled my ears as I feel asleep. I woke up around 6:30 am. Feeling rested. I´m waiting till it gets a little lighter down here on the jungle floor before I get a move on. I need to make it back to civilization today. All the jungle sounds are beautiful. So many birds calling out. Leaves rustling behind me. Can´t see what it is... a bird, some other animal? Thoughts of robbers seem welcome right now. I´d like to see another human. Maybe he´d have water... ¨
PART TWO
¨10:00 am, March 10, 2009 - Cafe Internet - Back safe in civilization - After finally packing up and taking a few pictures of my jungle camp, I set off around 7 am. The ravine I was following seemed more of less to continue, and I could see the sunlight on the hill to my right. I was calm, and proceeded with caution and patience, not the hurried stumbling of the night before. I knew I could not be that far away from civilization. There were some more sudden drop-offs, but I navigated slowly and surely through them, utlizing all my techniques and experience rock climbing. After an hour, I started to get the feeling that it might not end, although I knew something had to change, as the walls were drawing in closer and closer to me on either side. I grew excited as I hit a patch of sunlight and realized that it was coming from behing me, meaning that I was walking west, and not south as I had previously thought. This was pleasant news, because on the map of Lago Atitlan I had, there was much land south of Volcan San Pedro before it hit the street, whereas the road came much closer to the west side of the volcano. Thirty minutes later, I was on a definite path, and there were no more drop-offs. I got excited and my pace quickened, until finally bam! I emerged from the jungle and onto a cleared bit of farmland. It must have been recently cleared or harvested, for nothing was growing. I came to the edge of of this plot and walked south and then I saw the two land paved road to my right. I turned west and finally made it the road. I started walking towards a farmer a little ways down until I saw a taxi van coming. They said they´d give my a lift to San Pedro. I told them my story and told them to take me somewhere I could buy water and use the internet (I had some friends from the orphanage that were staying in San Pedro and I wanted to get ahold of them). They mentioned that we were currently 4 km away from San Pedro. I had almost done it. I had almost made it up over Volcan San Pedro from Santiago, and walked back down the other side to San Pedro, without a guide, my goal in the first place.
As I recalled the prvious day and night, I counted my blessings that I had not sprained or broken any bones, not gotten bitten or stung by any venomous spiders, insects, or snakes, and that I had made it without water or much food for a day and a half in the jungle. As I descended upon the lakesdie village of San Pedro, I started to cry, the experience of the previous day cactching up with me. Not tears could come out though, as I had no water to spare losing.
Our first stop was a store where I bought a large bottle of water, and then we went down towards the lake shore, and they dropped me off at cafe internet. It was about 9:30 am. My journey was finally over.
A few thoughts and reflections about my journey
1. The vasque shoes that I bought in December at REI held up very well throughout this whole endeavor. Barely no blisters, and still completely intact (very dirty though).
2. Thanks to bro Dan for the First Aid Pack he gave me before I left. It helped me feel a little better about myself before I went to bed last night.
3. The Kelty Coyote 4900 backpack that I received for Christmas from my brother in law and sister Mireya held up extremely well throughout the endeavor. No straps or sippers tore or broke. At times, I thought I might ditch it, taking only the top portion, for the top contained the only things I couldn´t replace - namely, the writings in this journal. I´m glad I didn´t leave it behind though. I think it will serve me well for years to come. The experience did make me think though of how easily we get attached to objects and that maybe a part of this experience is the dettachment from these objects, as I was ready at points to leave behind my clothes, pack, sleeping bag, tent, etc.
4. I realized I am small compared to the world, and weak compared to its power. John Franics, the author of Planet Walker, which I´m now reading, often quotes Roderick Nash, a professor of history and enviromental studies at the Univeristy of California. One such quote goes nicely with this fourth reflection. ¨Its good to see natural pwers and processes greater than our own. The lessons of such experiences are precisely what are needed if the human-environment relations are to be harmonious and stable in the long run.¨ This leads in nicely to my fifth reflection.
5. As we drove toward San Pedro, I could see the fires blase the jungle I had just come through to make room for farmland. ALthough upon emerging from the jungle I was happy to see farm and the civilzation it represented, I was now stricken with sadness. If we burn the jungle and exert out ´power´over the earth, where will people go to obtain this ´wilderness education´Nash speaks of. We must do our part to help conserve it, so that future generatios will be able to explore it and come up with meanings of their own...
6. This experience showed the failure of the Morales ´arrogance´that I have taken up as a trait. The pride and can-do attitude is good, except when we let it come before what is logical, safe, and smart. Next time, I will take a guide with me. I can not do everything own my own, and I do not know everything...¨
And that is all. Everyone who made it this far, here are a few suggestions for the day: On your next sip of water, really enjoy it, and be thankful that you have water. Lastly, hug a loved one and tell them how much they mean to you, you never know when you´ll see them again.
-chris.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
One Week Down
I don´t even know where to start, its been such a crazy week. I´ve had some of they biggest emotional and physical ups and downs over this past week than I´ve ever had in my life. Upon arriving at the orphanage Monday morning, I suddenly inherited 38 varones grandes (big boys), between the ages of 11-16. I am their orientador, or care taker. I live with them, wake them up, hand out their toothpaste and shampoo, make sure they shower, make sure they clean their rooms, do all their chores, get to breakfast, eat their food, clean up after themselves, watch over them while they play, get them to school on time, make sure they stay in class and don´t wander off, make sure they listen to their teachers, meet them for lunch, meet them after school, make sure they shower again and make it to dinner, make sure they go to bed and actually sleep. I live in their house. I have a small room that holds all of their necessities (shampoo, tools for making jewelery, toilet paper, toothpaste, first aid, toys, etc.), plus some spare shelves for my own clothes, my guitar, and some books. I have my own bathroom and shower as well. There are six rooms in which the kids sleep, and in the center is a common room. There is also a deck that hangs above the river and holds beautiful views of the Rio Dulce. Basically, I have to be daddy for the following hours: 5-7:30am, 11-1pm, 4-6:30pm, and 7:30-through the night. I try to get the kids to sleep by eight. There is electricity in the house between 4:30 and 7:30 am and 4:30 - 8:30 pm, so long as the batteries have enough juice. The kids wake up and fall asleep to the same damn cd every day. I blast it full volume at 5 in the morning to wake them up. I think it might drive me crazy. The kids mostly behave pretty well during the day, but its getting them to sleep and getting them to wake up which is the hardest part. I´m sure any parent reading this is laughing at me right now, or maybe with me. The first couple days I was on the verge of leaving because I was exposed to all this, adjusting to the new living conditions, didn´t know any of the kids or names, or the schedule of the place. Its hard getting kids to do their chores when you don´t know any of the names and can barely understand what they´re saying. Then they lie to you about who they are and boy gosh jeez all sorts of fun games and tantrums. I have finally earned most of their respect at this point, and things are much easier. Even though there are still some problem kids that give me much attitude and set a bad example for others, I more or less have control over them now. Its not exactly the way I would like to govern, by promising punishment for wrongdoings, but in the beginning, it was the only way to earn their respect (or fear).
It is very tiring work. Even though I get breaks during the day, it passes quickly, and I am still in the midst of the orphanage, so it is hard to get away. It is not nonstop work, everyday. As time passes though, I am getting to know the kids, and they are beginning to trust me and confide in me. This is the most rewarding part, and the reason I came. I give them the sense that they are loved and cared for, and make sure they follow the guidelines and schedules given to them so they have some sort of regiment in their lives.
Although the meals are very monotonous (beans at every meal, sometimes with either rice, eggs, or vegetable stew on the side), there seems to be enough for the kids to eat. During their free time, they seem to really enjoy this mini-foosball game (which of course I school them at), and to fish for mojorras, the local river fish. With the fish, they either supplement their meals, or give them to their two kittens that have made a home in our house. Plus there is also the constant drum of a soccer ball being bounced around somewhere in or around the house. They also wash their clothes often, and enjoy making rings and other ornaments to adorn necklaces out of coconut shells. What they can make out of a mini coconut seed is amazing.
There is much more to write about, like the conditions of the orphanage, the village of Las Brisas that lies just beyond the orphanage boundries, the howler monkeys that pick fruit from the canopies of the trees, the debilitating intestinal problems, and so many precious moments with my children, and the rest of them here at Casa Guatemala, but my time has come to go play dad once more.
At the moment all is well here. Until next time.
Chris
It is very tiring work. Even though I get breaks during the day, it passes quickly, and I am still in the midst of the orphanage, so it is hard to get away. It is not nonstop work, everyday. As time passes though, I am getting to know the kids, and they are beginning to trust me and confide in me. This is the most rewarding part, and the reason I came. I give them the sense that they are loved and cared for, and make sure they follow the guidelines and schedules given to them so they have some sort of regiment in their lives.
Although the meals are very monotonous (beans at every meal, sometimes with either rice, eggs, or vegetable stew on the side), there seems to be enough for the kids to eat. During their free time, they seem to really enjoy this mini-foosball game (which of course I school them at), and to fish for mojorras, the local river fish. With the fish, they either supplement their meals, or give them to their two kittens that have made a home in our house. Plus there is also the constant drum of a soccer ball being bounced around somewhere in or around the house. They also wash their clothes often, and enjoy making rings and other ornaments to adorn necklaces out of coconut shells. What they can make out of a mini coconut seed is amazing.
There is much more to write about, like the conditions of the orphanage, the village of Las Brisas that lies just beyond the orphanage boundries, the howler monkeys that pick fruit from the canopies of the trees, the debilitating intestinal problems, and so many precious moments with my children, and the rest of them here at Casa Guatemala, but my time has come to go play dad once more.
At the moment all is well here. Until next time.
Chris
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Goodbye my loooooooove
A very nice Canadian girl wandered into the hotel today and decided she wanted to stay and do volunteer work at the restaurant. Although it will be tough for just any gringo to match my waitering skills, I guess the hotel backpackers has a sufficient amount of volunteers now for me to leave. I still technically ´owe´the hotel three more days of work at the restaurant, and they said i might have to pay that back at some later point (maybe semana santa - easter - which is a huge holiday week for guatemalans).
Just like that, as I was just settling into my digs here at the hotel, I´m off again on another adventure. I leave tomorrow morning to start my duties to the orphans, still not really knowing what I´ll be doing. I will miss the regulars at the bar - Jean Marie, the Belgain who lives on his boat here on Rio Dulce and speaks a great mix of Spanish, French, German - Otto Ernesto, the Guatemalan caballero who totes his pistol everywhere he goes and loves to drink his gallo cerveza mixed with V8 juice (not bad, I shared one with him, but nothing like a Karl Strauss Amber). I will miss the employees of the hotel who I´ve become close friends with. Jonatan, the cashier at the restaurant who loves Snoop Dog and DJ Tiesto and who´s got an amazingly funny accent when he tries to speak English - Daniel, the 17 year old kid who graduated from the orphanage and who now works in the kitchen. One of my first days here I fished with him using string a hook and tortilla and we caught a pretty decent sized guapote, even though we were going for some mojarra.
It feels weird becoming friends with these people only to leave so quickly. It somehow doesn´t really feel right. I want to be more than just a passerby with them. They feel like more than that to me. One thing that the majority of people that I´ve met have in common, no matter what backgrounds they have here, is that they would all drop everything to have the chance to live and work in the United States. I´m not sure how I feel about that yet...
I finally figured out how to post some pictures on the blog. There is a link to a slideshow of my first couple weeks abroad on the right of the blog page. My camera does some weird things sometimes, so don´t blame my photography skills. If anyone has a decent camera they would like to send my way, I´ll make it worth your while.
As they say in Freedonia, Oogy Wawa!
Chris
Just like that, as I was just settling into my digs here at the hotel, I´m off again on another adventure. I leave tomorrow morning to start my duties to the orphans, still not really knowing what I´ll be doing. I will miss the regulars at the bar - Jean Marie, the Belgain who lives on his boat here on Rio Dulce and speaks a great mix of Spanish, French, German - Otto Ernesto, the Guatemalan caballero who totes his pistol everywhere he goes and loves to drink his gallo cerveza mixed with V8 juice (not bad, I shared one with him, but nothing like a Karl Strauss Amber). I will miss the employees of the hotel who I´ve become close friends with. Jonatan, the cashier at the restaurant who loves Snoop Dog and DJ Tiesto and who´s got an amazingly funny accent when he tries to speak English - Daniel, the 17 year old kid who graduated from the orphanage and who now works in the kitchen. One of my first days here I fished with him using string a hook and tortilla and we caught a pretty decent sized guapote, even though we were going for some mojarra.
It feels weird becoming friends with these people only to leave so quickly. It somehow doesn´t really feel right. I want to be more than just a passerby with them. They feel like more than that to me. One thing that the majority of people that I´ve met have in common, no matter what backgrounds they have here, is that they would all drop everything to have the chance to live and work in the United States. I´m not sure how I feel about that yet...
I finally figured out how to post some pictures on the blog. There is a link to a slideshow of my first couple weeks abroad on the right of the blog page. My camera does some weird things sometimes, so don´t blame my photography skills. If anyone has a decent camera they would like to send my way, I´ll make it worth your while.
As they say in Freedonia, Oogy Wawa!
Chris
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Becoming Guatemalteco
Things are good here. i´ve gotten accustomed to working at the restaurant at this hotel. Its in a pretty beautiful spot. and although i didn´t come to be a server, its been cool getting to know the area, the employees that work here, and the tourists that pass through. plus my spanish is getting real good (my english a little worse). Some of the volunteers that I´ve talked to say that the worst part is working at the hotel, but I´ve quite enjoyed it. Work is like a really long Spanish class. And when I´m not at work, there really isn´t that much to do. The river is fun to swim in, and I´m almost done reading the biography of Che. I´ll be happy to finish that book and get it out of my backpack. It could probably fuel a fire for three days its so long. I´m also grateful to my brother for convincing me to bring a guitar at the last minute. Great call Jon.
Its been a little over a week since i´ve been here. pretty crazy. feels like longer. i took a tour of the orphanage yesterday. wow. its pretty cool. the kids seem awesome and i think its going to be pretty amazing being with them. i hadn´t been there even ten minutes and I was surrounded by beautiful little boys and girls wanting any sort of attention; to be picked up, talked do; swirled around, tossed the ball. I´m still not sure what i´ll be doing, but i think i might be an `orientador´ for the big boys (yrs. 11-16). that would mean i sleep with them, wake them up in the morning at five to do their chores and make sure they shower, and then send them off to school. then i´d hang with them from eleven to one while they eat lunch, and then after school for a bit before they go to bed. i´d have most of my day off, which would be give me time to explore the jungle, read, lay in a hammock, nap, read more, play the guitar, chase some chickens, and nap again, in that order. the boy´s house is actually pretty nice. way nicer living conditions than the volunteer house, where all the rest of the volunteers that teach classes sleep. it seems like it could be nice (its all relative really), but none of them take the effort to clean the rooms. so i´m kinda hoping that i do get that position to stay with the kids. There house is right on the river with some nice hammocks, and a rope swing off one of the decks!
it was a crazy experience just to be at an orphanage in guatemala, let alone one that i will be living at for the next couple months. I think it hit me while I was there that I´m in this for a little while, and so to try and get comfortable.
i did laundry by hand for the first time in my life today. It took a long time and was very tireing. I´m not very good at it, and I think I´ll end up ruining all my clothes I brought. I guess they smell better though. I think I´ll probably just wear as little clothes as possible and do laundry more often. I´ve never really thought about how much swish swashing work the washing machine is doing back home.
I also bought a pillow today, and a pillowcase. The pillow case was I think a little over 8 quetzales ($1.15) and the pillow maybe 24 quetzales. i´m really excited to replace the Iron Springs Brewery sweatshirt I´ve been using as a pillow for the past week with something that hopefully serves its purpose. Although I think the sweatshirt has been giving me good dreams about decent beer, something that doesn´t exist down here.
What else. For the past week I´ve been craving these tacos that are on the restaurant menu. Every time I try to ask for them though, they say they can´t make them, even on the days that the special is tacos. Today a guest at the restaurant didn´t eat their order of tacos, and as I bussed the dishes into the kitchen, I set them aside. They were an order of tacos chinos (eggrolls). I ate them later and they tasted so good (is that gross?) There was chicken inside, the first meat I´ve eaten here since a disasterous episode with a hamburger last Friday that ended up with; well, I´ll just stop there. And sure enough, not thirty minutes later, I was feeling sick. No breaks at this restaurant with the meat I guess. On the good side though, I bought some peanut butter and jelly and bread at the store in town and am having some decent lunches. My six or so choices of free meals on the restaurant menu (not including meat choices, which i don´t even look at anymore) are getting a little old, to say the least, so the pb and j is a good mix. plus, living in a land where you can get three avocados for about a buck is like heaven on earth to me. i´ve taken lots of pictures, and promise to send them soon.
The orphanage could use more volunteers if anyone is interested in quitting their jobs and moving to guatemala... but that´s just a crazy idea.
chris
Its been a little over a week since i´ve been here. pretty crazy. feels like longer. i took a tour of the orphanage yesterday. wow. its pretty cool. the kids seem awesome and i think its going to be pretty amazing being with them. i hadn´t been there even ten minutes and I was surrounded by beautiful little boys and girls wanting any sort of attention; to be picked up, talked do; swirled around, tossed the ball. I´m still not sure what i´ll be doing, but i think i might be an `orientador´ for the big boys (yrs. 11-16). that would mean i sleep with them, wake them up in the morning at five to do their chores and make sure they shower, and then send them off to school. then i´d hang with them from eleven to one while they eat lunch, and then after school for a bit before they go to bed. i´d have most of my day off, which would be give me time to explore the jungle, read, lay in a hammock, nap, read more, play the guitar, chase some chickens, and nap again, in that order. the boy´s house is actually pretty nice. way nicer living conditions than the volunteer house, where all the rest of the volunteers that teach classes sleep. it seems like it could be nice (its all relative really), but none of them take the effort to clean the rooms. so i´m kinda hoping that i do get that position to stay with the kids. There house is right on the river with some nice hammocks, and a rope swing off one of the decks!
it was a crazy experience just to be at an orphanage in guatemala, let alone one that i will be living at for the next couple months. I think it hit me while I was there that I´m in this for a little while, and so to try and get comfortable.
i did laundry by hand for the first time in my life today. It took a long time and was very tireing. I´m not very good at it, and I think I´ll end up ruining all my clothes I brought. I guess they smell better though. I think I´ll probably just wear as little clothes as possible and do laundry more often. I´ve never really thought about how much swish swashing work the washing machine is doing back home.
I also bought a pillow today, and a pillowcase. The pillow case was I think a little over 8 quetzales ($1.15) and the pillow maybe 24 quetzales. i´m really excited to replace the Iron Springs Brewery sweatshirt I´ve been using as a pillow for the past week with something that hopefully serves its purpose. Although I think the sweatshirt has been giving me good dreams about decent beer, something that doesn´t exist down here.
What else. For the past week I´ve been craving these tacos that are on the restaurant menu. Every time I try to ask for them though, they say they can´t make them, even on the days that the special is tacos. Today a guest at the restaurant didn´t eat their order of tacos, and as I bussed the dishes into the kitchen, I set them aside. They were an order of tacos chinos (eggrolls). I ate them later and they tasted so good (is that gross?) There was chicken inside, the first meat I´ve eaten here since a disasterous episode with a hamburger last Friday that ended up with; well, I´ll just stop there. And sure enough, not thirty minutes later, I was feeling sick. No breaks at this restaurant with the meat I guess. On the good side though, I bought some peanut butter and jelly and bread at the store in town and am having some decent lunches. My six or so choices of free meals on the restaurant menu (not including meat choices, which i don´t even look at anymore) are getting a little old, to say the least, so the pb and j is a good mix. plus, living in a land where you can get three avocados for about a buck is like heaven on earth to me. i´ve taken lots of pictures, and promise to send them soon.
The orphanage could use more volunteers if anyone is interested in quitting their jobs and moving to guatemala... but that´s just a crazy idea.
chris
Friday, February 13, 2009
The First Couple Days...
Hello good people:
I write to you from Hotel Backpackers, a little hostel/restaurant located right on the Rio Dulce, Guatemala.
After a fun weekend visiting my pal and old college roommate Frank in Tampa Bay, I took a shuttle to Miami, and caught about a two and a half hour flight to Guatemala City on Tuesday, Feb. 10. As we approached the city, I was able to look out the window and see the steep mountains and hills cut by ravines that separated the valley that the city lies in from the rest of the country. Apart from the landscape, I noticed the small clusters of small houses with tin roofs that adorned the tops of these little mesas, and realized that surely this was not a dream and indeed I was in another country. I´ll tell you, there is nothing like flying into a third world country not really knowing the language and having heard multitudes of scary stories to get the heart pumping and create some anxiety and nervousness. This is how I felt as I stepped out of the airport and onto the street, only to be greeted by some 50 odd Guatemalans yelling at me in Spanish. Its amazing what Spanish I did know but had forgotten comes back to you in a moment like this, as survival instincts kick in.
A taxi driver convinced me (without much of a fight) that I didn´t want to stay in Guatemala City that night, but at a place he knew of which was on the outskirts and much safer. I agreed, and the place he took me ended up being a little house of a Guatemalan couple that rent out a couple of their rooms to guests. It was a lot pricier than I would have liked, but being tired, and feeling secure where I was, I let it go and felt accomplished that I´d actually made it somewhere for the first night. The couple ended up being very nice and I ended up talking with them in their living room for three or four hours that night about Guatemala, its people, its history, and its culture. The next morning he dropped me off at the bus station in the city and I made it just in time to catch the bus for a five hour bus ride north east to Rio Dulce.
After the bus dropped me off, I had to walk back south across the bridge that spans Rio Dulce, the longest and most famous bridge in Central America, and at that point I felt like I was in paradise. Both sides of the river were covered with tropical trees and plants and sparce huts and hotels with thatch roofs adorned the shores. Crossing the bridge to its east side, and looking south, I saw the Hotel Backpackers standing on piers stilts above the water. It looked exactly like what I´d seen on the website, and I couldn´t believe I´d actually made it here, so far away from home. As I walked onto the dock of the reception area, I checked out what would be my digs for the next two weeks...
After filling out some paperwork, I was greeted by another volunteer from Chicago, who had arrived about two weeks prior, and was just fulfilling her last days in the hotel. All the volunteers staying at the hotel share a room with about four or five small bunks. While I´ve been here, its just been her and I, but the occasional random volunteer will come back from their ´descanso´, or break, and stay there before they return to the orphanage. I grabbed a bunk and dropped my things and went down to the restaurant. The hotel is comprised of the restaurant, which is on a dock with about twenty tables, and big buildings, which are accessed by walking around these docks. In the main building is the reception area, public bathrooms and a kitchen on the main floor, some multi bunk rooms and one or two private rooms on the second floor, and the volunteer room on the third floor. Our room is directly above the kitchen, and if the aromas from the kitchen don´t wake you up, the calls from the birds outside in the area around the hotel surely will, quite early. Compared I´m sure to most rooms in Guatemala, ours is comfortable. It is not luxurious in the least, and clean is a word I will just have to forget about for the time being. People who can´t stand bugs or spiders or dirt in their room should not come here.
I will work here, in the restaurant, as a server for the next two weeks. I don´t know exactly why they make volunteers due this. Its almost as if we have to pay our dues, but I figure just be volunteering we are already paying our dues. At any rate, its not a bad place to work, and although I haven´t spent too much time here yet (I´ve only worked one day: the 3-10 shift last night) I don´t think it will be too bad. I didn´t come to be a server though, and its pretty hard trying to be a server to the natives, but my Spanish has progressed immensely already only being here two days. You see the employees every day, and its been interesting developing relationships with them, and then there are the backpackers and tourists, and then there are the locals who are regulars. Last night after work I was invited to have some beers with three local vaqueros sitting at a table in the restaurant. One of them spoke some English that he had learned twenty years back and wanted to be friends. One of the guys owned a huge amount of land in the area and claimed to have the biggest cow ranch in Guatemala. Judging by the size of their pistols hanging off of their waists, I figured it might be true, and didn´t want to question that claim at any rate. Not to worry, he said it was an organic farm, and the cows had plenty of space to roam.
I have a feeling I might grow a little tired of this place sooner rather than later, as I surely did not come to Guatemala to work in a restaurant, even as laid back as it is. But talking to the other volunteers who come by from the orphanage, I have several words of wisdom to live by:
1. Enjoy electricity while I can
2-buy some extra food to store while at the orphanage if I want to eat anything besides beans and rice three times a day
3. Be patient while I´m here, because my time will come soon enough to work with the kids and it will be very rewarding and
4. don´t eat the meat at the restaurant.
And so here I am. I think I´ll try and visit the nearby towns today. Its getting a little tiresome being in the same place that I sleep, eat, and work. Some new scenery would be nice. I can also take a kayak down the river...
I write to you from Hotel Backpackers, a little hostel/restaurant located right on the Rio Dulce, Guatemala.
After a fun weekend visiting my pal and old college roommate Frank in Tampa Bay, I took a shuttle to Miami, and caught about a two and a half hour flight to Guatemala City on Tuesday, Feb. 10. As we approached the city, I was able to look out the window and see the steep mountains and hills cut by ravines that separated the valley that the city lies in from the rest of the country. Apart from the landscape, I noticed the small clusters of small houses with tin roofs that adorned the tops of these little mesas, and realized that surely this was not a dream and indeed I was in another country. I´ll tell you, there is nothing like flying into a third world country not really knowing the language and having heard multitudes of scary stories to get the heart pumping and create some anxiety and nervousness. This is how I felt as I stepped out of the airport and onto the street, only to be greeted by some 50 odd Guatemalans yelling at me in Spanish. Its amazing what Spanish I did know but had forgotten comes back to you in a moment like this, as survival instincts kick in.
A taxi driver convinced me (without much of a fight) that I didn´t want to stay in Guatemala City that night, but at a place he knew of which was on the outskirts and much safer. I agreed, and the place he took me ended up being a little house of a Guatemalan couple that rent out a couple of their rooms to guests. It was a lot pricier than I would have liked, but being tired, and feeling secure where I was, I let it go and felt accomplished that I´d actually made it somewhere for the first night. The couple ended up being very nice and I ended up talking with them in their living room for three or four hours that night about Guatemala, its people, its history, and its culture. The next morning he dropped me off at the bus station in the city and I made it just in time to catch the bus for a five hour bus ride north east to Rio Dulce.
After the bus dropped me off, I had to walk back south across the bridge that spans Rio Dulce, the longest and most famous bridge in Central America, and at that point I felt like I was in paradise. Both sides of the river were covered with tropical trees and plants and sparce huts and hotels with thatch roofs adorned the shores. Crossing the bridge to its east side, and looking south, I saw the Hotel Backpackers standing on piers stilts above the water. It looked exactly like what I´d seen on the website, and I couldn´t believe I´d actually made it here, so far away from home. As I walked onto the dock of the reception area, I checked out what would be my digs for the next two weeks...
After filling out some paperwork, I was greeted by another volunteer from Chicago, who had arrived about two weeks prior, and was just fulfilling her last days in the hotel. All the volunteers staying at the hotel share a room with about four or five small bunks. While I´ve been here, its just been her and I, but the occasional random volunteer will come back from their ´descanso´, or break, and stay there before they return to the orphanage. I grabbed a bunk and dropped my things and went down to the restaurant. The hotel is comprised of the restaurant, which is on a dock with about twenty tables, and big buildings, which are accessed by walking around these docks. In the main building is the reception area, public bathrooms and a kitchen on the main floor, some multi bunk rooms and one or two private rooms on the second floor, and the volunteer room on the third floor. Our room is directly above the kitchen, and if the aromas from the kitchen don´t wake you up, the calls from the birds outside in the area around the hotel surely will, quite early. Compared I´m sure to most rooms in Guatemala, ours is comfortable. It is not luxurious in the least, and clean is a word I will just have to forget about for the time being. People who can´t stand bugs or spiders or dirt in their room should not come here.
I will work here, in the restaurant, as a server for the next two weeks. I don´t know exactly why they make volunteers due this. Its almost as if we have to pay our dues, but I figure just be volunteering we are already paying our dues. At any rate, its not a bad place to work, and although I haven´t spent too much time here yet (I´ve only worked one day: the 3-10 shift last night) I don´t think it will be too bad. I didn´t come to be a server though, and its pretty hard trying to be a server to the natives, but my Spanish has progressed immensely already only being here two days. You see the employees every day, and its been interesting developing relationships with them, and then there are the backpackers and tourists, and then there are the locals who are regulars. Last night after work I was invited to have some beers with three local vaqueros sitting at a table in the restaurant. One of them spoke some English that he had learned twenty years back and wanted to be friends. One of the guys owned a huge amount of land in the area and claimed to have the biggest cow ranch in Guatemala. Judging by the size of their pistols hanging off of their waists, I figured it might be true, and didn´t want to question that claim at any rate. Not to worry, he said it was an organic farm, and the cows had plenty of space to roam.
I have a feeling I might grow a little tired of this place sooner rather than later, as I surely did not come to Guatemala to work in a restaurant, even as laid back as it is. But talking to the other volunteers who come by from the orphanage, I have several words of wisdom to live by:
1. Enjoy electricity while I can
2-buy some extra food to store while at the orphanage if I want to eat anything besides beans and rice three times a day
3. Be patient while I´m here, because my time will come soon enough to work with the kids and it will be very rewarding and
4. don´t eat the meat at the restaurant.
And so here I am. I think I´ll try and visit the nearby towns today. Its getting a little tiresome being in the same place that I sleep, eat, and work. Some new scenery would be nice. I can also take a kayak down the river...
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Thank You All So Much
First of all, I just want to say thanks to everyone who has given me support so far on this journey. Even though I'm not even gone yet, I already feel well taken care of while I'll be there.
Secondly, to all who want to donate money but don't feel like using their credit card to do so, I suggest making out a check in my name and sending it to me at the following address:
Chris Morales
Re: Casa Guatemala
80 Hickory Rd.
Fairfax, CA 94930
If it arrives before I leave (Feb. 6), I can put it into the proper account. If not, I can arrange for this to be done in my absence. To all who wish to send some physical goods, please do not send it to me - I most likely won't have room in my luggage. Once I arrive at the orphange and speak to the director, I'll have a better idea of where this sort of donation can be sent, and I'll pass that information along to all of you.
Thanks again for your support,
Chris
Secondly, to all who want to donate money but don't feel like using their credit card to do so, I suggest making out a check in my name and sending it to me at the following address:
Chris Morales
Re: Casa Guatemala
80 Hickory Rd.
Fairfax, CA 94930
If it arrives before I leave (Feb. 6), I can put it into the proper account. If not, I can arrange for this to be done in my absence. To all who wish to send some physical goods, please do not send it to me - I most likely won't have room in my luggage. Once I arrive at the orphange and speak to the director, I'll have a better idea of where this sort of donation can be sent, and I'll pass that information along to all of you.
Thanks again for your support,
Chris
Thursday, January 22, 2009
A Plea to Friends and Family
Hello to all,
In mid February, I will be leaving on a jet plane destined for the small, impoverished country of Guatemala. Guatemala sits on the isthmus connecting North and South America and shares borders with Mexico and Belize to the north, El Salvador and Honduras to the south, the Pacific Ocean to the west, and the Caribbean Sea to the east. Originally home to the Mayan people, Guatemala has a very colorful history full of ancient Mayan civilization, Spanish colonialism, revolution and civil war. Political and social turmoil within its borders over the last four decades has left this country struggling to keep up with the rest of the world. With 56% of the people living below the poverty line, a literacy rate of only 70%, and Malaria, Dengue, Hepatitis A, and Typhoid Fever still prevalent in many of the rural and undeveloped parts of the country, Guatemala could surely use a hand in its struggle for national health and economic security.
A hand is exactly what I plan to offer for the next four months when I volunteer at an orphanage located on the Rio Dulce, in northeast Guatemala. Casa Guatemala is an orphanage that cares for the nurturing, health and education of over 250 children. These children come from a variety of backgrounds; some have been abandoned, some have been abused, while still others come from families too poor to even provide the basics of a child's needs. The orphanage receives no government support and is totally dependent upon the kind donations from people and groups from around the world.
Casa Guatemala is split into three sites, each operating in concert with the other. There is an infant home and medical center located in Guatemala City, a teenager home in Guatemala City where older kids can live and continue their studies in the city, and the children's village, located on the Rio Dulce, where some 250 children live, eat, learn, rest, play, and grow.
Although I do not know exactly what my responsibilities will be when I arrive, there is a lot to do in the children's village, and I envision myself working in all aspects of life there. There will be opportunities to help on the farm, teach in a classroom, provide physical education for the kids, and also work on maintenance and construction of the facilities there.
Strong earthquakes have threatened to collapse a water tower that provides irrigation water to the village farm. This farm provides food for the village as well as an excess that can be sold for income to pay employees and provide general upkeep to the facilities. One of the major tasks I wish to accomplish while I am there is come up with some fundraising strategies in order to raise enough money to demolish the existing tower and replace it with a new, sturdier tower that will provide water for the village and secure its sustainability.
Please help me to help these orphans with their struggle to grow up and not only survive, but thrive, and help bring Guatemala to good health and prosperity in the world. Visit http://www.casa-guatemala.org or click the link on the side for more information on the orphanage and the proposed projects they wish to accomplish in the near future. Monetary or mental donations are kindly accepted. If you would like to donate money, please click on the 'donate' button. Even the smallest amounts of money mean considerable gains to the children. If you would like to donate ideas as to how to help make Casa Guatemala more self-sufficient or on any technical work that needs to be done, please comment and I will gladly take note and make appropriate suggestions to the director.
Thank you for taking the time to read my plea. During my stay at the orphanage I will try my best to update this blog with stories and pictures from abroad so check the site every now and then to see where your donations went or to see how I'm doing.
Thank you and God Bless,
Chris
Please help me to help these orphans with their struggle to grow up and not only survive, but thrive, and help bring Guatemala to good health and prosperity in the world. Visit http://www.casa-guatemala.org or click the link on the side for more information on the orphanage and the proposed projects they wish to accomplish in the near future. Monetary or mental donations are kindly accepted. If you would like to donate money, please click on the 'donate' button. Even the smallest amounts of money mean considerable gains to the children. If you would like to donate ideas as to how to help make Casa Guatemala more self-sufficient or on any technical work that needs to be done, please comment and I will gladly take note and make appropriate suggestions to the director.
Thank you for taking the time to read my plea. During my stay at the orphanage I will try my best to update this blog with stories and pictures from abroad so check the site every now and then to see where your donations went or to see how I'm doing.
Thank you and God Bless,
Chris
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