Final Thoughts

If you have been touched by my experience...
If you have questioned the material things in your life...
If you wish you could make a meaningful difference in someone's life while knowing that 100% of your donation is going to the people, not to a middle man...

I ask that you support the progress being made in Pabeya. I am raising money and donations for the next trip to Pabeya, whether it be in January 2010 or October 2010.

Please give all that you can:
- baby clothes
- children's clothes
- small adult sizes
- tools
- hammocks
- first aid & basic medical supplies
- shoes of all sizes, especially flip flops and sandals
- $ for additional closed-fire stoves and water filtration systems ($300 provides both for a family)
- school supplies and Spanish-language books for all ages
- duct tape

Make checks payble to Oak Ridge United Methodist Church or High Point University (Memo: Guatemala Mission). Mail to:
Kelly Norton
High Point University
833 Montlieu Avenue
High Point, NC 27262-3598

Questions: knorton@highpoint.edu or 336.841.9636.

Day 7: Presentation of Certifications & Mayan Ruins

To connect the donors who sponsored the stoves and filters to the families who received them, we asked the donors to provide a photo. Those photos were laminated and matted and given to the Pabeya families. Then we took photos of the families with the photo to give to the donors once we were back in the U.S.

This morning, we delivered the photos to the families, took the photos, provided a certificate from the church, gave them a metal spoon & ladle, and checked the caulking for leaks.

After lunch, Joshue picked us up in the chicken bus and drove us to Takalik Ab Aj. We toured the many remnants of the Mayan civilization and talked about the changing of eras on the Mayan calendar on December 21, 2010. We also saw new escavation projects that had been discovered since January when the team was last there.

Tonight we started packing all of our stuff, and we added to the pile of things to leave behind until the mound reached halfway up the corner walls. T-shirts, work pants, shorts, jeans, blankets, baby clothes, school supplies, books, shoes, etc. And we designated special places for those who helped us this week:
- Raul, our interpreter, coworker, jokester, and all-around cool friend
- Nicho, the how-to man-with-a-plan
- our cooks Lidia and Carmelina
- and the guys who got us from home to home with incredible efficiency, given the circumstances--Santos, Big Miguel, Juan, Eliseo, Little Miguel, and Lorenzo.

For these friends, we left specific items that we knew they could use or trade for something they need. These people have made such a positive impact on this work done in Pabeya and on me. Someone once told me that every new friend you make fills a void in your life. Perhaps a void you didn't even realize was there until it was pointed out to you and then filled. They help you to see yourself and your own life through new eyes. In Pabeya, theirs is a problem that you can't throw money at. You can't come in and wave a magic wand to fix what you think is broken. You have to plan and strategize and then work shoulder-to-shoulder alongside your new friends in a common effort to make life better for all.

I cannot count the number of times I placed my trust in Raul, Nicho, Joshue, and the people of Pabeya--holding a ladder, learning against a board, lending a hand, keeping us safe from harm. The amount of trust we placed in the community became evident tonight when we returned from Takalik Ab Aj later than expected. the sun had set, and the canopy only darkened the shadows along the 1/2 mile path that led us from the road to the church. As if they knew the problem, the children took our hands and led us through the darkness on narrow passages with rocks so uneven and wobbly that the best of eyes and feet would stumble in clear daylight. No one fell. No one was hurt. And that is when it became clear to me that we were not the first to grant our trust. The community believed in us and our intentions long before tonight, before last week when we arrived, before the group that came in January. This relationship with the community began years ago when it opened its doors and its hearts to the people of Oak Ridge UMC. And I was merely a player on the team who was so fortunate to share their lives for a short time.

At the end of an incredibly emotional night, Juana prayed for us and for the community. She asked that God keep us safe and bless us. The best blessing I can think of is that I am able to return to Pabeya very soon to see my friends again. As I have said, this experience is not for everyone, but I have come to realize that it is for me. The next trip is in late January, and Max has already scheduled the following trip for HPU's Fall Break 2010. Not a coincidence! We will find a way to make it happen.

This morning goodbyes were hard. There were photos and hugs and cheers and feelings of sadness looking at the empty church that served as our Pabeya home. There was an ache in my heart as I watched the children run after us as we drove away. And as I reflect on my time in Pabeya, as I read through the pages of notes I will soon type into the blog for the world to read, my heart also aches for the things I didn't say:

To Juana, Santos, and Big Miguel: You are the faces and the spirit of the community. Keep your thoughts and efforts aimed at making life better, safer, healthier for everyone regardless of their beliefs.

To Juan, Eliseo, Little Miguel, and Lorenzo: You are the future leaders of the community. You will be the ones to carry the message to younger generations. Your lives will mark the turning point for Pabeya.

To Max, who tried for more than 2 years to get me to work in Guatemala: Your persistence has changed my life. Words fail me.

Day 6: Training & Kids Day

This morning we were met by 3 groups of families. One group at 8am, one at 9am, and the last at 10am. They were trained on how to use and clean the stove as well as how to assembly and clean the water filtration systems. After the trainings concluded, we ate lunch and prepared for our games with the children. School had let out for the winter 2 days earlier, so we were able to start Kids Day earlier than planned.

We took frisbees, soccer balls, candy, face paint, and a bunch of other stuff. More than 600 kids showed up. The face painting and soccer game went well. The candy was chaotic but rewarding. And of course, the evening was over way too soon.

Clapping games: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3VFydjGabw

Later that night, we had guests for dinner: Nicho, our contractor; Juana, the pastor's wife; Santos and his mother; Juan, Manuela, and little Cesar; Eliseo and his wife and son; big Miguel; Lorenzo; little Miguel; and others. We were able to share thoughts with one another, with Raul's help of course. And once again, there were hugs all around.

After dinner, I had a great conversation with Alan and Ron, about nothing specific, yet it has stayed with me. The HPU students are truly fortunate to have found brothers and sisters in our friends at Oak Ridge UMC. Just over 4 years ago, things could have gone very differently. And I wonder where that love would have gone if not to Max, Bill, Spencer, Emory, Bob, Max, Alan & Sharon, Ron & Ron, Kelly & Ralph, Chuck & Hal, Lewis, Dan, the people of coastal Mississippi, the people of Pabeya, and others.

Day 5: Last Day of Work

Today we were challenged to finish all of our 77 stoves. How wonderful it would be to finish 4 days worth of work in only 3 days! Our 20 team members have worked hard and worked well together this week. We have pitched in when things needed to be done. We also have played hard and enjoyed each other during quiet times. I have overheard and been a part of so many incredibly meaningful conversations. Not confrontational, no one trying to get the upper hand, no one letting arrogance or pride get in the way of a loving friendship. So Max challenged us to finish the stoves today. We challenged ourselves to finish just after lunch. Since we were working almost 2 miles away, we decided to take lunch with us rather than walk the additional 4 miles to come to the church for lunch. 2-3pm was our goal.

This is a good time to talk about hygiene. it's not something that comes instinctually to people in Pabeya or in rural Guatemala in general. There aren't designated trash locations, so trash is tossed wherever it is convenient. On the ground, on the trails, in the woods, in the road. Incredible storms roll through almost every evening during rainy season (rainy season is nearing its end), starting about 3pm. The trash from the ground is swept this way and that in the flash flooding that always follows. It starts with dark clouds and within minutes the slow, steady rain begins. Then it picks up quickly. Within minutes, the sky goes from blue skies to black clouds and rain and back to clear skies. I digress.

Back to the topic of hygiene. We can't drink the water. We carry hand sanitizer with us everywhere. We purse our lips tightly in the shower and immediately spit spit spit if water touches our lips. We try not to touch our faces. Only a few people have fallen prey to GI issues. 5 of 20 people so far isn't bad odds.

One of the "afflicted" was working with Kelly Boy on the chimney team. The run the pipes through the ceiling, mount the upper pipe to the wall and the ceiling, put the "hat" on the pipe outside, add a mesh protective sleeve to the lower pipe, and then caulk the hole inside and outside. The firebox teams were making quick progress and then sitting for quite a while between jobs, so Max re-assigned Sydney and me to help the pipe teams. With Kelly Boy's partner sick, I stepped in to fill his shoes. I enjoyed working on Team Kelly-squared. After our work was done, the stove was complete, so I was glad to be able to see the finished product. The work was multi-step and quick-paced, so we didn't get to interact with the people as much. That was OK though. I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from this community. I don't know if I could possess another day's worth of experiences.

So our challenge to finish at 2-3pm was way off. Instead we finished at 11:30am. It was satisfying to finish 4 days of hard work in only 2 1/2 days. That means, we will do the stove and water filter training in the morning.

In the afternoon when school is out, we will have our "play day" with the children. That will be chaotic crazy but fun! And we will be able to visit the Mayan ruins on Friday. Tonight I'm assessing my packed clothes to see if I can find another pair of somewhat clean pants or shorts. Just one more pair would have been nice, but this trip is a great lesson in minimizing what I think I need. I've discovered that I can do so much more with so much less than I ever thought I could. We had chicken nuggets and watermelon for dinner.

Tonight was also Dan's 63rd birthday, so we celebrated. And he had just retired last Friday, so we celebrated. Nicho, Raul, and others from the community arranged for fireworks. I have video but no photos of Lidia's song, the fireworks, the prayer and hugs for Dan that followed.

Fireworks for Dan: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyklyvCcrlg&NR=1

Lidia's birthday song for Dan: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T2RO_riqugs&NR=1

Below are photos from the rest of the night:

Day 4: Second Day of Work

A late-night game of cards and writing 75 reminder slips in Spanish for the families' stove and water filter trainings left me tired:

"Favor de presentarse el Jueves a las 8:00am en la Iglesia Methodista."

Our progress on Monday left us with the possibility of finishing the work early enough to visit the Mayan ruins on Friday. The group was averaging 20-30 stoves per day with a total of 77 to install, including one at the school.

Once again, we were greeted by the roosters and the children of the community. Monday's work was somewhat close to the church. Today we walked 1-1.5 miles away. Winding paths through banana trees, following washed out drainage ways.

The children in the community have been so memorable, yet the mothers have been silent but strong figures standing in the background. (Most of the fathers have to leave the community for months at a time for work.) The mothers do not scold, they do not hover, and they do not spoil. They allow the children to find their own voices and senses of responsibility early in life. They let the children make their own mistakes, and even still, there are few. However, the children do not need to be corrected often. They do not need constant supervision and over-protection. Instead, the children are sure-footed and confident in their emotions and their actions. The students on the trip have found their peers in our guides and some of the mothers in the village. Today I found a peer of mine in a woman who ran a local store. She had 4 children, all adorable of course. We have been spending so much time with the children that I wonder whether the adults still have that kind of joy in them. I offered her a Tic Tac, which has been a nice ice-breaker with most people. She accepted. We spent the next 10 minutes in broken conversation about her children, her husband who works in other parts of the country to earn a living, her store. While it was only 10 minutes of the entire week, I was given a glimpse of, what seem to be coincidental, circumstances can lead to similar people having completely different lives--neither aware of the other until they meet. Her daughter stood beside the store in the kind of pose you see on a Sally Struthers fund-raiser. With the store sign on one side and a Coca-Cola sign on the other, she stood still and silent and looked at me. I took her photo because she was so beautiful and yet looked so confused about who I was and why I was there. Seconds after snapping the photo, I noticed the girl's croc-like sandals and realized that her shoes had no soles in them. Only the space between her heel and the ball of her foot was covered.

The next house was one where the entire floor in a multi-room home was concrete (husband worked in the U.S.). The kids there wanted to see the photos on my camera. When they saw the photos of other children, they pointed and said their names. When they saw the photo of the girl at the store, they laughed. I wondered whether Pabeya played its own cruel social game between the haves and the have nots. It would be a question for another day.

We were on to another house where I heard a woman coughing in the room next to where we were working. I knew the stove we installed would not save her, but it would save her grandchildren. Sydney and I finished our stage of the work and said the familiar "estufa nueva" (new stove) since completing our phase made the stove look like a stove. The woman walked out of the room as I passed by, and she hugged my arm. I was overwhelmed. If I needed confirmation that I was where I needed to be, doing what I needed to be doing, that was it. This work isn't for everyone. Some people could never get past the layers and layers of trash that is everywhere--in the woods, on the paths, in the creeks--yet the homes are incredibly clean, taking into account that most had direct floors and soot icicles hanging from the ceiling. Thousands of passes by little feet (people and animals) has pounded the earth into a hard surface, which was swept several times a day.

On our arrival day in Pabeya, Dan, a returning member, said he hoped they didn't have slaughter day, while we were here. Today, a cow was slaughtered, cut, and sold. It wasn't as bas as the scene that played out in my mind after Dan's comment. I think it's only fair that people who eat meat should see how the animal grows and matures and then how it is killed and chopped up. I have now seen a cow at all phases of its life and death, but I don't want to talk about it. We had spaghetti with meat sauce for dinner.

Day 3: First Day of Work

We were awoken this morning at 2am by a rooster who obviously can't tell time. I fell back asleep and then awoke later by the voices of people who were taking early showers. I fell back asleep against. At 6:10am, it just didn't seem worth it anymore, so I gave up and got up. Very strong but very good coffee (not like Starbucks, yuck!) was waiting for us, scrambled eggs, refried beans, and juice. We were all eager for the work day to begin.

The ONIL representative was meeting us at 8am to teach us how to assemble the stoves and water filters. Max assigned Katie and I to lead the two firebox teams. That meant we had the most complex but (I think) least physically demanding job. Other teams went before us setting the 11 blocks and 3 concrete shapes that make up the outside of the ONIL stove. We assembled the firebox that houses the fire itself, the pummace that would insulate the heat from the concrete shapes, and the vent that would channel the smoke to the chimney. The last team installed the elbow, pipes and hat that made up the chimney. Training took more than 2 hours with translation, and poeple began to lose focus. A few of the ORUMC church members had installed stoves on the last trip, so the training was primarily for us first-time travelers. We caught on quickly. Max rushed the rep through the filtration system installation, so we could begin working.

With the community gathered outside, Santos, who owns the community store nearest the church (smaller than my closet), began calling the names of the families who would receive stoves. One by one, they stepped forward to gather additional pieces necessary to assemble the stoves. The majority of the pieces had already been carried to the homes, and the concrete slabs had been poured. Many of the women wrapped the materials in handmade blankets and carried them around their shoulders, like the babies and toddlers who occupied the blankets yesterday. Some women wrapped their babies in the blanket around their shoulders and carried the stove pieces on their heads.

We gathered our our materials, met our guides (who didn't speak any English), and made our way to the first home. To call them houses would be incredibly misleading. Even to call them shacks is being generous. In most cases, they are built with tree branches at the four corners and other branches laid horizontally, not attached. As a roof, corrugated tin has been laid (not attached) over the branches. More tin is propped against the structure as walls, or boards are nailed horizontally with small spaces in between. The fires they cook on are inside these structures. That means, the heat and smoke fills the room completely and seeps out through any hole it can find. The women and children have severe respiratory problems from breathing the smoke. The children stumble into the open fire pits and are burned, or the fire pops and burns whatever it touches. They spend every spare moment hunting and carrying wood to burn in inefficent stoves. Those affected by ringworms and other parasites are easy to pick out with a spare-tire-like bulge around their waists. I can't begin to explain how the lives of these people are being changed by something as simple and easy to install as a closed-fire stove and a water filtration system.

I was paired with Sydney, and we worked well together. We assembled the pieces and packed the pummace while we talked to the kids in the room. Some would stand timidly in the corners of the room or at the door. Others would stand right beside us with their little fingers on the top of the stove. They would pack pummace with their hands and brush away the excess before we added the stove top (planches). Sometimes the kids lived in the home where we were installing the stove, but most of the time, the kids would follow us from one place to the next. We got so good at working and talking that we started talking to one another in Spanish or Quiche.

We had completed 5 fireboxes when lunch was called. The most difficult part was finding the next home that was ready for us. The walking trails wove a complicated network of paths, passages, spaces between trees, under branches, spaces that weren't very big at all. we followed Juan from one home to another. He shared with us that he was 17, married Manuela at age 16, and has a one-year-old son Cesar. Very big smile when he said that.

Open, full-hearted, unhidden smiles were rare. These are modest, humble people. Children cover their smiles when they realize someone is looking at them. Some more quickly than others, they find the love in our intentions and let down their guard. only then does their beauty truly show through. They laugh and giggle, hold our hands, and rub our arms. They poke at our stomachs like we poke at theirs. Everything between us is an ongoing joke. Occasionally play is put on hold to accomplish a task that cannot be done otherwise. However, mouths are straight for only a short tim. Their corners are soon turn upwards once again, and the joking and playing continues.

Kaylyn said the language barrier has been fun, and I believe it puts us on a common level, even though much of the community seems to view us as having the upper hands. They step aside to let us pass on the trail, even if they are carrying a heavy load. Throughout our entire time and work, we have been clear that we are not here to change these people, to Americanize them, to save them. We are here to give themselves the tools to improve their own lives. Although I have tried, I have been unable to capture all of the stories, all of the names, all of the sights, all of the love and gratitude. I can only hope that they will come back to me in pieces or in my dreams. Smiling dark eyes, tongue pushing around a Tic Tac. Gentle glances. Simple kindnesses. We are not on a common playing field. They have so much more to offer us than we do them.