forensic anthropologists

the other day i took our fall semester students to fafg-the forensic anthropology foundation of guatemala. (this npr link also has a mini slide show)

these are people who visit indigenous communities throughout guatemala, speaking with survivors, to aid in locating and digging up bodies piled in mass graves.

guatemala has a terrible recent history - 36 years of "the violence," begun by a CIA-led coup, when a u.s. trained and supported, guatemala army "disappeared," tortured and killed tens of thousands of guatemalans and massacred entire indigenous communities - men, women, children, elderly, infants when the word to blanketly justify such atrocities wasn´t our current-day "terrorism," but the generation-removed term "communism."

we waited as the armed guards checked my i.d. after a few minutes, they gave me the ok and we started in. it was hard to ignore the piles of empty wooden coffins that formed morbid columns banking the entrance.

we first watched footage of mass grave excavation. of wailing mayan women standing at the edge of an uncovered pit, wrapping their rainbow-colored woven shawls over their faces, as they caught glimpses of a telltale shred of clothing that put a name to the bones being uncovered as those of their husbands, mothers, neighbors, children.

laura led us into the forensic lab - rudementary by northamerican standards - where cardboard boxes of remains stood in piles to greet us - case numbers, names of villages printed in black marker. beyond the boxes, a dozen tables shrouded with blue sheets, and on them skeletons being painstakenly pieced together.

laura led us to the first table. "here is a heavy trauma victom. gunshots here in the bottom of the skull, here in the neck, here in the spine, the hip, the rib cage. here you can see lascerations in the chest area." we watched as she picked up the skull to show the bullet projectory. our eyes rested on the long slices in the bones of the rib cage - the work of a machete. we counted 9 bullet wounds.

we moved to a table with soil - covered indigenous women´s clothing, a huipil, a corte (mayan blouse and skirt), a hair cord, sandals, a woven baby blanket.

"here is a 30 year old women, and her baby. the woman was shot here in the head. the baby died 3 days later, we think of starvation, in her mothers arms."

we moved to another table.

"here we have the remains of at least 5 victims, as noted by the five right femers we have found. as you can see all show signs of fire damage." they were burned to death.

"here are the remains of a 2-3 year old. we can tell because the bones had just begun to fuse." we watched as she picked up pieces of the crushed toddler´s skull.

a social work masters student asked if the workers themselves had any support or counseling for their mental health withthe kind of work that they do. a smile from laura. "well, no. it doesn´t affect us like that. the more we see the more we are motivated to do our part to see that justice is done. to make sure this never happens again in our country."

as the students began to file out, i hugged alma and kissed her check - the traditional greeting. she was working on the case of the women and child. although i had only seen her 3 times before this, she seemed an old friend. "how are you?, " I asked as she carefully brushed the earth off of the tiny baby´s bones. "good. when are you going to start translating? you should have this down now" "next time, i think."

we made small talk. with the weight of brutal death all around.

i had fought the lump in my throat several times during our "visit" - my 4th time to this place with student groups. and i felt relief and gratefulness each time the tears welled up, each time i swallowed hard. it still impacted me as it should to see these things. next time, when i try the translation, i hope i have to stop to cry.

please god never let me become accustomed to this.

´nother team pic

spent last weekend in altaverapaz for our quarterly team meetings.

did some planning, did some discussing, did some sharing about work placements.

but also did some looking around in a cave and walking to a waterfall.

balance is good.

anyway, here we are again.

amen is the same

been pulling some late nights lately at CASAS. including two nights that i just cuddled up on the bench in my office and snagged a few z's before morning. i already know all the boundaries lectures i deserve - but you can spare them, as i give them to myself already.

but that´s not the point of this entry.

instead, i wanted to share with you the blessing that came with these late nights. time to share meals and conversation, pulled away from the work that will always demand attention, as part of an unlikely trio of dinner companions.

sebastian came to my door - "shannon, quieres comer con nosotros ? (would you like to eat with us?) he motioned over over to the semilary´s guest house comedor (dining room) where rigoberto was waving and smiling, pulling leftover spaghetti china (like chow mein) out of the microwave.

it was a welcome break.

so i made my way over and sat myself down as sebastian and rigoberto set the table, warmed the tortillas, poured the drinks, and served me first.

and we bowed our heads, and sebastian prayed for us in his mother tongue, german - giving thanks for the day, for our meal, for work to put our hands to, for friends to share a meal with, for shannon, for rigoberto. with an "amen" to close.

and we chatted - rigoberto, this mayan ke´kchi/ former soldier/turned pastor/ turned seminary doorman - about his daughter's recent birthday back in Altaverapaz (department 5 hours north of the city), that he was able to leave the seminary and the city to attend. about his english classes that he would start the next day to help him greet guests that come to the seminary and gueshouse speaking not a lick of spanish- he had hardly slept the night before he was so excited about starting class!

and we chatted- sebastian, this german student, finishing his masters in conflict resolution studies, and living at the seminary guesthouse while completing a 3 month internship with redpaz ("peace connection") in guatemala ( a peace education/conflict resolution training organization) - about the research he was doing. about his time studying in syria. about his kickboxing class. about whether he know any malburgs in germany. :)

we swapped our stories in spanish, our second or third or fourth language, but the one we all had in common.

and the next night...

rigoberto - this jack-of-all-trades/ guard/doorman, with a hospitable heart and a quick smile that welcomes all who enter semilla´s campus, came to my office window the next night...


"you are so beautiful" and gave me a shy, questioning look - "¿es corecto?" we laughed. he was practicing his english and wondered about his pronunciation and grammar, undoubtedly a phrase sebastian had put him up to. then he regained himself, "hermana shannon (sister shannon), quieres comer con nosotros otra vez anoche (again tonight)?"



sebastian was warming vegetable soup with wicoy (like a green potato), and doblados (fried corn tortillas folded over and stuffed with chicken and minced vegetables, topped with a red tomato sauce).



and we bowed our head, and rigoberto gave the blessing in ke´kchi. giving thanks for the day, his new class, friends to share meals with, family to share life with, work to put our hands to, for sebastian, for shannon. with an "amen" to close.



and we chatted, in spanish, commenting on the importance of family, and that we were being that to each other - all in our homes away from home, in a language not our own. and rigoberto sang as we washed dishes - worship songs he knew in ke´kchi, in spanish, in english, with his fluid tenor notes drifting into the early guatemalan darkness.



and i was stuck with a deep gratitude for these late nights. for time to be part of this unlikely trio: mayan ke´kchi former soldier, german masters student, and ex-pat gringa.



and as i cuddled up on my bench, and my mind began to slip into sleep, it rested a moment on the realization, and my lips smiled:


"amen" is the same.

all that´s left of my pobrecita camera

i found a few photo files that were saved and survived my carelessness in chichicastenago on market day with a purse not well closed. new camera didn´t last more than a couple weeks in guatemala, now in someone elses´ loving possesion with pictures of some strange gringa and the things she thought were worth a photo. but the blame is on me for that one.

anyway, here is a a pictoral step back in time ...a mini chronicle of those first couple weeks...

akron, PA, for two days of making sure my paperwork was in order before shipping out of the states. i stayed in this snazzy guesthouse above all decorated like eastern europe. there´s a house decked out on the mcc campus for every continental region


















got to guatemala. stayed with a host family for the forst couple months. my most frequent visitors below. both had their adorable methods of begging their way onto the bed while i was pouring over spanish homework.























visited fellow mccers in the rural communities of the ke´kchi people in the department of altaverapaz (true peace), including little ruth cahill, who is showing me her favorite ancient mayan artifact that she found in her backyard.





















visited the bezeleel vocational school for indigenous ke´kchi youth. here are boys learning the art of tailoring....

visited indigenous mayan women near coban in altaverapaz who were happy to show the goats they had raised though joint program with mcc and heifer international. to fulfill their agreement with the program, to receive a gift of a goat, they must then give their firstborn healthy goat away to another community member, thereby sustaining the program and bettering the entire community.






visited the new land redistributinon project in betel, and tried on hats that carlos made.













visited the guatemalan city cemetary that shows, even in death, the stark contrast between the rich and the poor. ¨niches¨ to the right, are rented burial slots. as opposed to the masouleum of the castillo family, who has been part of guatemala´s oligarcyhy, in power for over 500 yeras, and currently holding the monopoly on beer and purified water in guatemala and the distribution of pepsi- related products.











after having lived 10 years in the dutch capital of the midwest, i didn´t expect my first ever pair of yes, wooden shoes, to come as a gift from my GUATEMALAN boss. note: he had just returned from a tour of europe to promote the seminary, so it sort of makes sense.








wandered around the former central american capital (when all of central america was one, couple hundred years ago), and the colonial guatemala capital of Antigua, snagging some pics of cathedral ruins...

and sadly, the end. . .

the dive

and, i´m in.

no more leaning on the ¨i´m in the orientation phase¨ when my spanish fails me, when i don´t know what to do. i am now officially, though reluctantly, the person you´d go to if you were looking for the ¨directora¨ of CASAS, though i feel like i am looking for her too.

i´ve awkwardly worn this role for 2 weeks. and there are some battle scars to prove it - a harried, late night hospital visit with a sick student, 2 hours of sleep when i took my first stab at grading students´ reflection essays this week (not realizing the 8 hour time commitment ahead), cases of mis-communication North American-to-Central American style, including instigating waves of hurt feelings when i dove into a day´s work forgetting the proper round of individual greetings to build relational rapport are so, so important here in the Guatemalan workplace context.

i have prayed prayers of desperation when i look at the calendar and to do lists and wonder how on earth we could ever pull everything together in time for 3 overlapping student groups this summer. i have wanted to quit and for God to send someone else. i have found temporary haven behind the bathroom door when my fragile will was no match for the welling tears pushing their way past it.

but...

i have laughed. with Karen, Lucy, Edgar and Enrique. with Nate, Anabeth, Hillary, Allison. with Panchita, and Albertina and Rafael. and yes, at myself.

i have stood gaping in awe and heavenly gratitude when a major coordination disaster - another case of my skills in cross-cultural communication failing miserably - miraculously fell into place hours before.

i have seen glimmers of acceptance this week after passing my two month mark in Guatemala that have made my heart leap, including the gift of a newly taken group CASAS photo from a teacher, the very one with which i was sure i would have the hardest time building rapport.

if there is one thing i do not lack here in guatemala is is constant surprises, and continual chances to be humbled. not a bad combination for God to show his stuff.

Team Pic - Ain't we cute?

So this is us! Plus a couple guests. Back...Carina (with pigtails, she's who's place I am taking as CASAS study abroad director for the Semilla seminary in Guatelmala), John (Tara & Rob's), our driver!, Melany and Nataly (Irma and Antony's daughters) Next 'row'...me, Gini & Travis (Betel land project), Nate (emergency Hurrican Stan relief and food security coordination), Tara (Bezeleel school and agriculture projects)Frontish...Ruth, (Tara and Rob's), Toby (HIV and AIDS prevention program in El Salvador, , Juan Pablo, (a local Guatemalan who hosted us during a trip to his rural community in San Marcos), our driver!, Beth (Music and Arts school for youth in the capital), Antony and Irma (Guatemala/El Salvador Country directors), Peter (blondy with Antony is R & T's), rob (Connecting Peoples rep, coordinates US-Canadian group learning tours or service-learning).

Taken right before we were headed back from our team meeting in San Marcos, the department on the northwest edge of Guatemala. Weirdly we crossed the Mexican border to get there, since vehicle worthy roads gave way to an hour hike into the community up into the wooded mountains. BEAUTIFUL place. Hope to get you some pics once I get some forwarded my way.

Great time connecting with fellow MCCers and sharing about our lives and work throughout Guate and El Salvador. Made some ugly, misshapen tortillas on the comal over the open fire with women from the community while they chuckled and patted perfect circles. Sang some songs outdoors together to candlelight and a passed around guitar. Ate yummy campo (countryside) food and chatted with community folks about their hopes for their community in the rebuilding, including the agriculture and fish farming food security projects Nate is helping to coordinate, after the 2005 hurricane wiped homes and farming plots from steep mountainsides in the mudslides.

The resilience of people here continues to amaze and inspire.

"Thank you for my hat"

Bantioux lin punit.

Carlos was coaching me in my very first Mayan Kekchi sentence. He had just gifted me a handwoven straw hat, and I fumbled the strange words in my mouth while he laughed and corrected me. Carlos was happy for the visit and proud of his new hobby - having recently rekindled a craft that had been a lost part of his heritage from generations past. His wife Maria was rekindling a forgotten craft as well, weaving "backstrap" style.

Carlos is the appointed forest ranger for the fledgling Betel community, a new settlement of 16 families situated in a remote area in the cloudforests of the Northern Guatemalan department (i.e. state) of AltaVerapaz, alongside a forest reserve protecting among other natural beauty, the fast-disappearing national bird, the Quetzal. The families are part of a new land project funded by a local foundation, whereby formerly landless, displaced farmers are given the opportunity to buy a home plot and a farming plot at a fair price.

I was visiting fellow MCCers who were stationed in this and a neighboring community
in AltaVerapaz, learning about their work in the cool, green, rural highland
communities, where Kekchi, one of the 23 indigenous Mayan languages of Guatemala is spoken. Here, my limited Spanish did me little good, so I soaked in the new sounds of Kekchi and communicated as all humans can through smiles, thankful eyes and laughter. MCCers Gini and Travis, a my-ageish couple, who took me through the forest, proudly showed me their baby banana trees and how they rigged makeshift "plumbing" for a gravity flow shower in their rustic house where they lived among the Betel community, along with Carlos and Maria.

A bumpy, 2 hour, forest/mountain ride away, Rob and Tara gave me a whirlwind tour of the Bezelel boarding school, where Kekchi youth from communities throughout the Ketcki-speaking region live and study academics during the weekdays and vocational training in tailoring, weaving, baking, carpentry, masonry and metalworking on Saturdays. Tara (daughter of a Calvin prof Bert DeVries ya'll, among other bizarre GR connections!) brought me to visit sweet-faced girls with their flourishing collections of goats and rabbits - part of a Heifer International project to incorporate more protein into rural diets, and then onto an impressive terraced organic garden, which is helping to provide fresh fruits and vegetables for the middleschoolers at Bezelel.

These MCC supported programs address two of the main problems that Guatemala faces--land distribution and accessible primary education. The roots of these problems trace back as far as the Spanish Conquest in th 1500s, where lands were seized from the indigeounous peoples and and given to Spanish nobles. But recent history bears blame as well with eonomic and political moves in the last 100 years seizing prize farm lands and turning them over to US corporations such as United Fruit Company
(aka Chiquita).

Today, many Mayans are left with little choice but to farm steep, rocky mountainsides - the last available land - and/or work the multinational banana plantations or coffee fincas of rich landowners for wages often 1/3 to 1/2 of the legal minimum wage of 6ish dollars a day. And this system of exclusion and exploitation has also kept indigenous Mayans from accessing basic services, such as health care, and primary education.

So seeing some small steps like these gives me hope, although there are still many deeper, structural elements that need addressing that I will continue to learn about each day I am here. But I am encouraged to see hope in the faces of Carlos and Maria. And am struck, as I knew I would be, with a taste of just how much I will be blessed and changed during this new life I have been given in Guatemala.

>Bantioux.