Chocolate and Pickup Trucks

An odd combination, huh? Well, our school hosts activities every day, and today´s activity happened to be making chocolate, Guatemalan style. It takes an unbelievable amount of time and energy! I won´t go into the whole process, but at the end, you have to form a ball out of the ground up, roasted cocoa beans which have been mixed with loads of sugar, some vanilla and some cinnamon. Then, you pound away. The pressure and heat from your hands eventually forms a chocolate bar, but it takes a lot of patience and arm muscles.

As I was endlessly pounding, I got to thinking about the activity we went on Tuesday of this week. As you may recall, we had a somewhat unsuccessful venture on Sunday up to the hot springs. You also may recall that it is rainy season here, which happens to be one of the main reasons we deemed the trip "unsuccessful". Call us crazy (or stupid), but when Tuesday rolled around and the scheduled activity was to head up to a different set of hot springs called "The Fuentes Georginas", we decided to go. This decision was based mainly on the fact that a lot of people from school were going, which was a great opportunity to get to know the people we see every day. Plus, we at least knew what we were getting into this time. We had experience on our side.

Once we reached Zunil by Chicken Bus, we took a 25 minute, death-defyingly fast ride up the narrow, windy "roads" of a different mountain this time. Seven of us were piled into the back of a pick-up truck, and after two minutes, we were all fully prepared to tumble over the side of the mountain into the endless fog surrounding us on all sides. At the same time, however, the fog graciously provided us some comfort in that it prohibited us from seeing all of the dangers awaiting us at the bottom of the mountain to cushion our impending fall.

We finally reached "The Fuentes Georginas", which were much more beautiful than the first hot springs. The company was good, as there were 16 of us coming from all different parts of the world. This type of situation always provides fascinating conversation. It was also very relaxing there in the warm waters with the naturally gorgeous mountain scenery. However, about 20 minutes before we had to catch our pick-up ride back down the mountain, the inevitable happened. Yes, the heavens opened up and poured down very cold rain onto our already wet and cold bodies. Predictable as it was, and as prepared as we were with umbrellas and a towel, it was still a very unpleasant turn of events.

Most of us raced around, trying to change into warm, dry clothes in order to prepare ourselves as best as we could from becoming icicles during the ride back down the mountain. We were all dreading it, knowing that there was no way to avoid the cold, pelting rain from attacking our bodies. We tried to fashion a cover with our umbrellas, crouching low in the back of the pick-up and at the same time, drenching our lower halves as a result of the water that had already pooled back there.

As I attempted to make my chocolate bar, I realized that there were two types of people riding in the back of the truck Tuesday afternoon. There were the people, like me, who were desperately trying to maintain some essence of warmth and comfort. We were thinking only about the moment at hand... only about keeping ourselves content for this portion of the trip. Ironically, crouched low in the back of the truck with a cascade of umbrellas and bodies surrounding me, I could see nothing and thus became miserably motion sick. I also ended up with my bum thorougly drenched (which definitely made it look like I had peed my pants), and although I had been content for the first few moments during the trip, it had been at the expense of any comfort or contentment for the entire remainder of the journey home. I was freezing, wet, and very motion sick for the rest of the day. I didn´t feel warm again until the next morning in the shower.

The second type of person was the rare breed. These daring folks realized and accepted the fact that there was, indeed, no way to avoid being wet and cold. So they embraced the adventure, wore their swimsuits, closed their umbrellas, and enjoyed the ride back. They even had dry clothes to change into when we boarded our trusty chicken bus headed back to Xela.

My realization is simple. I want to be someone who embraces the adventure, even if there are painful or unpleasant moments along the way. I don´t want to be someone who is only thinking of my own comfort, my own position, my own situation. I want to be that person who rides in the back of a pick-up truck racing down a windy, mountain path in my bathing suit, drinking in the cold rain as it splashes my face. I don´t want to miss any gorgeous scenery because I have my head stuck in my umbrella shell like a turtle. I want to have enough foresight and perspective to look past the present moment and realize the gifts that lay ahead, whether that is something as small as a warm, dry change of clothes on a cold and rainy day or something as big as Heaven.

We watched the movie "Dead Poet´s Society" this week, and I was reminded of the quote that I want to live by. I believe it´s the mantra of that second type of person, and although I have a long way to go before I become that way, my heart identifies with the words and longs for the journey.
"I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
~Henry David Thoreau

Nicknames

Ever since we have arrived in Guatemala, the locals have had the hardest time pronouncing Reade´s name. They just don´t have the "ree" sound in Spanish. So we´ve been thinking all along about what his Central American nickname could be, and have finally figured it out.

Our Guatemalan family was trying very hard one night after dinner to learn how to say Reade´s name when they asked me if he had any other names they could learn. So I explained to them that our last name is Bush. Well, as with just about everyone we meet, the inevitable explanation followed that we are not, in fact, related to the president (although it bears saying that if Reade is presented with that question, he always responds that old George is his uncle). Their response to our last name (also not uncommon in these parts), was one of distaste. So we moved onto his middle name: Walker.

Our cute little very conservative "madre", dressed in her indigenous clothes honoring her Mayan heritage, responded that the name "Walker" reminded her of the whiskey brand, Johnny Walker. (That is obviously her in the picture, standing by hours worth of laundry, including several pairs of tightie whities, hanging out to dry. Our room is upstairs, the door on the right.) Maybe you had to be there, but the fact that she knows anything at all about whiskey is hilarious. I doubt she´s had a drop of alcohol in her life. So now, they all call Reade "Whiskey". Seriously. "¡Whiskey, cena!" (translation: "Reade, dinner!") "¿Como estás, Whiskey?" (translation: "How are you, Reade?")

So next time you have a sip of whiskey, you can think of Reade. Or, the next time you see him, you can give his new nickname a try.

Sour Waters

After being in Xela (pronounced Shay-la, short for the name Quetzaltenango) for over a week and kicking our stomach ailments, we felt like we had gained our bearings enough to take a day trip on our own, without the help of guides or travel agencies. This, understand, is very brave when you are in Central America. But being Guatemala veterans of over one month, I guess we were a little more sure of ourselves than perhaps we should have been.

We had asked around our school and among some of the locals we have encountered which day trip we should make. Almost unanimously, they all suggested that we go to one of the hot springs in the area. These are pretty amazing pools that collect water heated naturally from the bowels of the mountains. There are also baths all through the closest town where many locals pay a small fee and come to have their only warm cleansing (and perhaps their ONLY cleansing) of the week. In addition, they are set high in the mountains with beautiful vistas in all directions.

So we caught our first "chicken bus" toward the town of Zunil. Chicken busses are a unique Guatemalan experience that we have avoided until this particular adventure. They are old U.S. school busses (probably running when Reade was in elementary school) repainted in all different combinations of colors on the outside, with two or three extra rows of seats added in to ensure minimal leg room. The short explanation is that you pay very little, cram 3 or 4 adults into a seat made for three children, ride very fast through narrow streets in a stick-shift-rickety-old-bus with no shocks. To say it is a bumpy ride is an understatement.

Once we arrived safely in Zunil, we had to find another mode of transportation up the mountain. This happened to be a "taxi", or a pick-up truck with metal rods set up in the bed of it for passengers to hold on to. So we hopped in the back, held on for dear life, and headed up the curvy mountain road when it started to rain. Hard enough that the droplets stung our faces as we whizzed directly into them. Not to mention that with the rain and the altitude comes the cold. It is currently rainy season in all of Central America, and while we have been fortuate enough to avoid the brunt of it thus far, this trip was an official initiation into the true meaning of "La Epoca de Lluvia". This was just the beginning.

Finally we arrived at Las Aguas Amargas, or The Sour Waters. Not that we tasted them. But after reluctantly changing into our bathing suits in the very cold and rustic stone somewhat gender delineated changing rooms, we hopped into the natural pool where it was oh so deliciously warm. Indeed, the mountain scenery was beautiful, but with the rain and the hovering clouds, it was hard to see very far. We enjoyed an hour or so of warmth before changing again into our now damp, rain-kissed clothes for the return trip back down the mountain. To the left are the individual bath stalls.











We looked for a taxi, and waited, and waited, and finally asked when the next taxi would arrive. As it turns out, taxis don't really come up there without an "appointment" of some sort. Good to know. This is a fact that the guide books left out. So we began to walk down the mountain in the pouring rain. Fortunately, we had remembered our trusty umbrellas, but when the rain is pouring at an angle, an umbrella only protects you in part. Thirty minutes later, we at last encountered a taxi, whose driver graciously agreed to let us ride in the cab of the pick-up with him for the remaining ride back to Zunil.

We finally arrived back in Xela, drenched and cold, but proud of ourselves for attempting this trip on our own, albeit somewhat unsuccessfully. After all, it was an adventure. Just maybe not our favorite. Once we warm up, maybe we'll consider doing it again, although for now, the trip definitely falls into the ¨"sour" category.

I am a GIANT

We're back in Guatemala. This time we're in Xela, about 4 hours west of Guatemala City. One of the first things you'd notice as an American is that, even if you're short in America, you're really TALL here. I'd guess the average height for men is 5'4", and women... maybe 4'10".

You become particularly aware of this if you try to use the toilet. At least, at our Spanish school, the stall door is exactly 1 foot from the end of the toilet. That means there is no room for your knees, let alone to stand... and your feet hang out the door.

I was thinking about seeing if I could join the Guate national basketball team. Not that I can play basketball, or that I even would understand what the other players are saying... but I feel like what Manute Bol (really tall basketball player) must have felt like in the U.S.

We came back primarily to get in some good language time. Xela is much more indigenous and less touristy than Antigua, Guate was. So we're forced to speak Spanish much more. Our school is really good, and we're both doing 5 hours of 1:1 learning with a native speaker each week. We are s...l...o...w...l...y making progress.

The Spanish family we're living with is really nice, and much better than our previous family we bailed from living with in Antigua. You can also see how tall I am in the picture to the left. The mother spends so much time cooking every day. We like the food, though the amount of pan fried cooking is tough on our stomachs at times. Speaking of tough on our stomachs, we got our first case of "traveller's sickness" last week. I'll let you imagine what that means... but suffice to say we were both in bed for 24 hours.

The culture here is very machismo. Around the house where we're living, the mother is up around 6:30 every morning, and spends the entire morning, day, and evening cooking and cleaning, mostly everything by hand. The men come in and sit down for meals, but never help with preparation of food, cleaning dishes, or anything. This is a little disturbing to me and Lisa, so we help out with dishes and clearing the table, and Lisa has even helped with cooking. The mother of the house is so kind spirited, so welcoming, as is the husband and their boys. But she is really special to us because of how much she does with such a positive attitude.

We like it enough that we're gonna stay here for another week, even though we have to share a bathroom with 8 people and we found bugs in our bed this morning.

Home Sweet Home, Take One

Being back in the states was a whirlwind, but we got to celebrate two wonderful events with dear friends. Both were a huge honor to be included in, so we wanted to share a couple of pictures.

Exciting event number one:
Lisa was a bridesmaid in her dear friend Kristy's wedding on May 6th. We got home just in time to be involved in the whole wedding weekend, which was super fun and full of activities. The wedding itself was beautiful and so joyful... they are so excited to be married and off on their honeymoon to Italy and England. And they're the only couple we know to actually smash the wedding cake in each other's face. It was pretty impressive.

Exciting event number two:
Our friends Nate (who was in our wedding) and his wife, Susan, were expecting their first baby in late-May, but we were really hoping that the baby would come in the short time we were here. Fortunately, little William Parker DenHerder was born on May 10th, and is he ever cute. Take a look at the happy new family.

ATM, Not Your Average Cash Machine

When we dreamed of having an adventure, this is the kind of thing we had in mind. After leaving Flores, we headed across the Belizean border into the quaint little town of San Ignacio, where we stayed for two nights, and decided we were up for a challenge. Actun Tunichil Muknal (ATM for short) is a gigantic cave about an hour away from San Ignacio. We were informed that if there was one thing we should not miss in Belize, this was it. It is a virtual Mayan shrine; the Vatican of the Mayan world. All kinds of religious ceremonies, sacrifices, and burials were performed here. How could we not go after learning that? Reade was especially enchanted with the promise that we would see very old human bones. So we showed up in the morning in anticipation of the day ahead knowing little else than that there would be both hiking and swimming involved, and that a high level of fitness would be required of us.

After a very bumpy drive with about 15 other people through the back country of Belize, we reached our desination. Our guides informed us that we would be hiking for about 45 minutes through the jungle to the cave we hoped to explore, and that we would be crossing three streams in the process. Would there be time to take off our sneakers before jumping in? Oh no. You just traipse right through the streams and continue the hike, only with very wet feet. It sounds worse than it is. So off we went into the wild blue yonder with periodic stops by the guides to illuminate some of the flora and fauna of the jungle.



We eventually reached a picnic area, quickly ate our lunches, and prepared for the next leg of the trip. We were told to leave everything behind since the very first part of the cave requires you jumping into a great pool of water (which we discovered was VERY cold), and we would remain sopping wet for the remainder of the day. If this wasn't exciting enough, they provided each one of us with a very fashionable (meaning bright red and smelly) helmet with a light attached to the top (also the picture of quintessential fashion). I mean, this is serious stuff.

The next leg of the trip was spent sloshing and sometimes swimming through the water flowing freely through the cave, as well as climbing over, under, and through the rock formations all throughout the cave. Some of the formations were absolutely majestic, some imposing, and all created over more than a thousand years' time. To complete the picture, there were dark holes all along the ceiling of the cave created by the urine of the numerous bats who hang upside down, dangling eerily above our heads. About a half mile into the cave, we came to a set of very large rocks. Once we carefully pulled ourselves up and over the rocks, we were relieved for a time of the constant barrage of cold water whose current seemed always to be running against us. At this point, our guide made us take our sneakers off, leaving only our dripping, wet socks between our pruny feet and the ruins we were about to encounter. This is how they ensure you don't step too hard on anything valuable. It is also very crunchy on the feet.





This is one of the bigger stalagtites we were able to photograph, but there were many more that were much bigger.












One of the coolest artifacts we saw.









This particular part of the cave is the main site for exploring many of the Mayan artifacts that were made and lugged all the way into the cave on foot by way of torch. It is really pretty amazing. But even cooler than that were the skeletal remains from hundreds and hundreds of years ago still preserved and visible to the naked eye. Creepy? A little. Especially since it is believed that these particular victims were sacrificed. Bummer.


The way back went much more quickly without any explanations from our guides. As we rode home soggy and content, we thought about how much we had learned and experienced in one day. What a sense of awe and respect we were filled with as realized how vast and exciting God's creation is. There's so much to discover, and we have only just begun.