Monday, August 19, 2013

Bienvenidos a Guatemala!



Wow! Where to begin.  I wish you all were here with me to experience this beautiful country and amazing culture.  It’s been a whirlwind of a week but I’m going to attempt to share as much as I can.
Leaving my mom and brother at the gate was about as hard as I expected.  I tried so hard to hold it together and I was fine once I got to my gate (probably because they had wifi and I didn’t feel so alone).  Once in Miami, I found Curtis, Noelle, and Natalie at our gate and had one last piece of pizza before we left the States.  Little did we know, Antigua has that and basically everything else we could ever want or need.  

Landing in Guatemala was so easy.  We kept trying to come up with backup plans in case someone wasn’t there to pick us up and if our bags were missing.  But by the time we made it to immigration (immediately after exiting the plane), we were surprised to have our own pick of immigration officers stamp our passports.  The airport was virtually empty and only one of our bags was missing (trust me, that’s amazing).  When we walked outside we were immediately greeted by two guys from our Spanish school La Union and Patrick, the fifth missionary of our class.  Once we left Guatemala City for Antigua we were distracted from the crazy traffic by an entertaining “Spanglish” conversion with the guys from La Union.  They handed us gifts from our house families and a little Mayan doll with our names on it.  Needless to say, we felt very welcome.  

Once in Antigua, we were greeted by lusciously green smoky mountains and volcanoes.  There are three nearby, the closest being Volcan Agua.  Agua is no longer active, or so they say.  The others are Volcan Pacaya, which you can climb as well, and Volcan Fuego, which means certain death if you attempt to climb it.  Luckily, that is the furthest away they assured me.  I’m all about exploring, hiking, and seeing volcanoes for the first time, but when you tell me one of them erupted last year and killed some people, forgive me but I’m bound to be a little hesitant.  Needless to say, these guatemaltecos who have grown up next to volcanoes all their lives tease me about it incessantly.
 
Driving through Antigua to our new homes was like being in a very old Italian city.  Everything here is ancient.  It’s the only colonial city in Guatemala that has regulations to keep it looking so original romantic.  The roads and sidewalks are all cobblestone and the buildings only vary between five warm Tuscan colors.  There are a ton of Catholic Churches throughout the tiny city from the colonial times, not to mention all of the ones now considered ruins because of earthquakes years and even centuries ago.  I never knew anything like this existed outside of Europe.  It’s absolutely incredible. 
The first night was both the worst and the toughest to get through.  I was dropped off at my host family’s house and greeted by a sweet smiling old woman named Señora Cony and her daughter Lúcrecia (or Lúki).  Cony looks just like an older version of my favorite Spanish teacher from middle school—shout out to you Mrs. Citro!  It was very comforting to be greeted by a semi-familiar face…not to sound creepy.  

Their house is quite small but very cozy.  You enter the big steel door that is typical for the area and enter a sweet courtyard complete with a beautiful hanging garden, a bird cage, their stove and pila (a sink they use in Central/South America to wash clothes and dishes).  Directly in front is a stairway up to the second floor, looking up is an open sky, and to the left is a doorway to the office and another just after it to the tiny dining room.  The next door is mine and, while it’s a bit dark because there’s no window, it’s cozy.  I’m hoping to change rooms tomorrow to an upstairs one with a window and a view of the mountains.  There’s a bathroom directly across from my room with just a toilet and a shower (and hot water! I cannot explain how grateful I was for hot water).  It’s always awkward in a new country, new place, new house and new culture to try and ask where the things are that you’re most comfortable with, though.  For example…uhh where’s the sink?  And do you all not keep toilet paper regularly? Also—after I finally found the sink in the bathroom upstairs—where is the soap?  Sometimes it’s there, other times it’s not.  I’m trying to make it a goal of mine to learn to read people better and feel out situations, but add on a different language and culture and it gives you a whole new challenge.  

In the end, you just learn to work with it and provide the things for yourself that you know you need to stay comfortable.  Granted, in trying to now live a very simplistic life, I don’t want to be too comfortable.  But, I’d say toilet paper is kind of a necessity.  

Enough about the house though.  The family is so wonderful!  So there is Cony and Lúki.  Cony is kind of in charge of my stay and feeding me every day except Sundays.  She is so sweet.  The kitchen is too small for me to eat with their big family at meals, but she will still sit with me and talk.  I think at first she did it because she felt rude not to, but now I know she enjoys talking with me over meals.  We drink tea, eat different types of bread, and talk about everything and anything.  I’ve learned so much already from her.  It reminds me of the time I got to spend with my sweet, wise old friend, Louie.  

Lúki is 24 and studying to be a lawyer at the local University.  Here they have to study for 5 years and then have a job for 2 years before they can be considered a lawyer.  But I feel proud of her already even though I barely know her.  She is working so hard and is such an independent, strong woman…kind of like someone else I know (Meredith Fee). 

Heidy is my new personal trainer.  She is 28 but doesn’t look a day older than 17. We run almost every morning and she has shown me more of Antigua than I ever thought existed.  She is from the next pueblo over called San Gaspar and one time we ran past her house and stopped by to meet her parents and grab some water.  Her dad is 65 and runs marathons with his son every year here!  He is so fit and looks so young.  Heidy is married to Francisco, Cony’s younger son and they have a four year old boy called Francisco pequeño.  He is so cute…and has a LOT of energy.  I brought him a Thomas the Tank Engine bubble making whistle which he went around playing with for about a week.  Then I whipped out the super hero coloring book and every day he wants to color now.  But not just one page…all of them!  He is sweet though and I love spending time with him.  He has a dog called Oso which, yes, means bear.  But here oso also means teddy bear and I honestly think he must believe his dog is a stuffed animal.  He carries it around, torments it, chases it, plays with it, shakes it.  Like any four year old boy, this is expected.  Maybe the dog likes it though because he never bites him.  

The other people here are Cony’s older son Alfredo and a student studying at a school here named Bryan.  I rarely see Alfredo but he is very nice.  He drives a tuktuk—the local taxi which is basically a motorcycle with two wheels in the back and can carry three people—that they keep in the courtyard at night.  It looks pretty funny sitting there in the middle of the house.  Bryan is quiet and seems very studious. I think he is just living here during the school year because by the time you reach high school here you are studying towards a profession.  If you want to be a maestro like Bryan for example, you would choose the best school you know of focused on becoming a teacher.  This is a more modern idea, I am told, and often the students will have to move away from home to go to the school of their choice.  

So, moving onto Antigua!  Like I said, the first night here was horrible for me.  I was so lost and confused by all the streets, which conveniently don’t have signs most of the time.  Luckily I was able to meet up with my group of finca missionaries for dinner at the Parque Central , which is the main center of most of Antigua.  We all went to dinner and kind of got to know each other.  Curtis and Noelle are married and both Notre Dame graduates.  They spent the last year working as Americorp Vista volunteers in Moab, Utah.  They are both very funny and a beautiful example of marriage.  Natalie is the nurse and she is so down to earth.  She is kind and so full of faith.  It’s people like her that give me hope in the modern American Catholic Church again.  We spend a lot of time together figuring out where to buy things, getting lost, and being late but we have fun.  Patrick is such a kind soul.  He seems very genuine and keen on moving to Honduras to experience poverty and learn about the culture and spend time with the kids.  He was a theology teacher back in Texas so I’m sure he has plenty of experience with feisty teenagers!  

Meeting everyone and kind of getting to know them that first night helped so much, but I’m telling you it definitely did not stop me from thinking about booking a ticket home immediately.  I think it must have just been the abrupt culture shock.  All I could think of was how I hate this part.  I hated it when I left Honduras and spent every night for 6 months crying myself to sleep because of how much I missed this life, this culture, and those kids.  But two years later, the American life had grown too comfortable.  Maybe that was just it.  I was uncomfortable, I was alone without any way of communicating instantly with anyone, and I was afraid.  It’s like ripping of a  very very VERY strong band-aid.  Coming from my clean, perfect, porcelain life, I guess I can’t blame myself for thinking I couldn’t do it.  So I just told myself this over and over again: one week.  Give yourself one week.  Pretend you’re on vacation and you’ll be home in just a week if you want.   Then go from there. 
Well, I guess it must be obvious but it worked.  Literally the next day I felt 100% better about everything.  I came to know more of the streets, I forced myself to go out and buy things I needed and explore, to be confident in myself and in my decisions, and to just be myself around all of these new people I don’t know.  Believe me, it’s not easy.  I don’t easily trust people nowadays and I have to fight not putting up a fake wall every step of the way.  But it’s worth it because Antigua is growing on me and so are my new compañeros.  If it weren’t for this new finca community, I don’t think I would be nearly as happy here. 

Just a warning, if you were expecting a short blog post you might want to continue reading this later.  There’s just way too much I want to share!

So at La Union we each get our own personal maestras.  For me, it’s like meeting with an old friend for coffee.  My teacher’s name is Claudia and she is so fun.  We rarely work on grammar from the book she uses because I talk her ear off every single day.  I think it’s supposed to work a different way, though.  Two hours of talking and then two hours of studying with the book…but somehow every day we get off topic and keep talking.  I guess that is practice in and of itself, though.  I just can’t think of studying right now without wanting to go INSANE.  I barely made it to graduation alive and the last thing I want to do is study.  Gracias a Dios, I put most of my time into studying Spanish in college so I can afford to be a little lazy.  Anyways, a typical day at school is me sitting at a small table across from Claudia next to a beautiful relaxing water fall drinking bottomless tea and coffee with smiling faces all around.  The employees there are all so happy and kind.  There are so many of us foreigners there too…and throughout all of Antigua for that matter. 

Here in Antigua they have their own special police force just for the tourists.  There are many ex-pats, visitors, back-packers, students, and people who just stopped by for a visit and never left.  I feel very safe here.  On Saturday, my group hiked up a short ways to the famous El Cerro de la Cruz which is on top of a big mountainy-hill (I’m telling you it’s somewhere in between).  It overlooks all of Antigua and has an unreal view of Volcan Agua.  We went in the morning when it was bright and there were barely any clouds and it looked like a painting.  There is a giant cross behind you that is the focal point of the view and a main reason for our visit.  I wish I had more pictures, but I hadn’t bought a camera charger yet.  Don’t worry, now that I have one I promise to share more.  

We have done so much just in the last week and learned so much.  Our eyes are constantly being opened wider to more things, both very beautiful and incredibly tragic.  In the end, though, I am glad I stayed.  I have a feeling Antigua has a lot more to teach me before I leave for the Finca.  Thanks for hanging in there with me through this long post!  I promise more fun details and stories in the next week or so. 









Monday, August 12, 2013

Saying goodbye

Goodbyes are never easy. 

I'm learning this very quickly.  You can try and trick your mind in every way possible: tell yourself you're just going on vacation, you'll have internet access, you'll be on your own adventure.  It's still not easy.

At some point you just become numb.

I don't want to make anyone think I am regretting this decision to go or questioning it at all.  I know what I'm getting myself into and I can't wait to hug and kiss those kids.  But knowing that I have to hug and kiss my little brother and mom for the last time is hard.  Saying goodbye to my father was hard.  Trying to not break out in tears on the phone with my friends and family is beyond difficult. 

For those of you who have supported me this far on my journey, I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Having to deal with goodbyes is hard enough, but not having to worry about how I will take care of myself over the next 2 1/2 years while I serve the poor of Honduras makes it so much easier.  Thank you!

I want to reassure you that I am confident in this decision.  I know this is what I am supposed to do and I know that in the end it will all be worth it.  I just wish the goodbyes weren't so tough. 

But, that is part of this journey and I am willing to embrace the pain because I know what I'm doing it for.  I love those kids so much and I am ready to get to Honduras and see them.  I only have a little bit more to go before we can move to our new "home" at the Farm.  I look forward to keeping you all updated on Guatemala and language school if you're interested. 

I love you all, I pray for you everyday, I have all of my medicine packed...and my pepper spray (for those of you concerned...it's been the main question of the day!), and I have my kick-boxing self-defense skills constantly in mind.  I promise to trust my sixth-sense, not trust anyone on the streets being suspiciously nice to me, and to always go with my gut.  Finally, I just want to remind you that St. Michael has got my back...I'll be fine.  Don't worry about me too much, but thank you for caring. 

Que Dios les bendiga todos ustedes!  I promise to write again soon.

Love,
Tiffany

Monday, August 5, 2013

Contact Information

Contact me at:
tiffanymarie725@gmail.com

Contact the Farm of the Child directly at:

andrea@thefarmofthechild.org

 

Interested in the Farm of the Child

Do you know of a student, prayer, or Church group looking to go on a mission trip?

 If you would like to sponsor a child, maybe volunteer, or know of a Church or organization looking to support a Catholic Christian mission, this may be the organization for you! 

E-mail the Farm of the Child directly for more information!




With limited internet access at the Farm, I will be able to check my e-mail occasionally. However, if you would still like to contact me with questions about the Farm of the Child or my experience down there, please feel free to write me.  I would be happy to write you back but just know you should expect delays with my responses.  Honduran time is a lot slower than American!

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Día de las Princesas



Two summers ago I was sitting on the floor of the school’s library with all of the little girls at the Farm, the Franciscan Sisters, and a few missionaries.  We were watching the Little Princess in Spanish.  Most of us had never seen the classic movie before so it was an exciting night.  With all of the little girls crisscrossed side by side wrapped up in someone's arms or playing with someone's hair, we all sat wide-eyed as the story unfolded before us.  For those of you who haven’t seen it, drop what you’re doing and watch it.  

Bring tissues. 

If you still haven’t watched it, what are you waiting for?! Go watch it now because I’m about to ruin it for you!  

The movie is about a little girl whose mother passes away (typical, I know).   Her father treats her like the most precious jewel he’s ever held and it is clear she knows her worth in his eyes.  But then he gets sent off to war and has to leave her in the care of a boarding school whose head mistress is horrible.  She has other little girls who have been left at the school and abandoned work as maids without education, barely enough food, and forces them to sleep in the cold attic in rags. Eventually the father of the little girl goes missing and the payments stop coming.  She’s forced into the slavery of the boarding school but her imagination helps her through those hard times.  In the end, her father is found but he has lost his memory.  Just as the mean head mistress is about to send the little girl to prison, the girl sees her father and runs to him.  He doesn’t know her though.  

The girl was distraught, crying, begging, praying for her father to remember her.   

It is such a sad scene to watch.  The only thing that pulled my eyes off of the screen was the shouts and cries of the little ones around me.  They were yelling at the father on screen, begging him to remember his daughter.  We were all in tears as the girls kept telling the Sisters to turn the movie off because they couldn’t keep watching it.  But then, suddenly, the father’s friend helps him remember and he saves his little girl.  His little princess.
 
Okay, so I’ve completely butchered that story line.  Trust me, you have to watch it to understand.  

It broke my heart to watch those little girls become so attached to the character of the little princess, but it gave me and some friends an idea.  We decided the girls needed a day to feel beautiful.  A day just to simply feel accepted.  Many of these young girls have been sexually abused at very young ages and all have experienced some form of neglect and emotional abuse.  You can see how this affects society by looking at the women of Honduras.  They are young abandoned mothers, they are beaten wives, they are innocent girls forced into prostitution.  At some point you have to ask, how can it stop?

Young girls need to feel special.  They need to have constant affirmation that they are precious and beautiful and worth something.  In order to understand their worth in the eyes of God, we decided to have a Dia de las Princesas, or Day of the Princesses.  My mom brought down the brand new movie Tangled and invitations decorated with a Disney princess and lots of sparkles were mailed out to all of the finca and the neighboring village girls.  We had cake, an incredible movie (with the songs even dubbed in Spanish!), and each princess got a photo of them and their friends to keep.  

These girls took the day seriously, too.  As soon as we stepped outside after finishing the decorations, we saw a line of beautiful little girls in whatever the prettiest dress they could find waiting at the gate.  It didn’t matter what they were wearing because they all felt beautiful.   After the movie one of the missionaries, Nely, gave a beautiful talk on a girl’s worth and purpose in this world.  I can’t remember all of what she said, but it meant something to these kids.  

Two years later I find myself imagining an even better Dia de las Princesas, maybe even like a mini-retreat.  I just want these girls to understand that they are so precious in the eyes of God.  Just as the father of the little princess showed his daughter her true worth with his love, God wants the same for his little girls.  Who am I kidding though?  At barely 22 years of age I doubt I have all the answers and the best way to go about sharing this with them.  I can offer them my experiences, but I fear they will have little value in our very different cultures.  

I guess my goal would be that these girls would have a tiny seed planted in them and that when they need it most one day in the distant futures, they will drop to their knees and turn to the Father.   
That they will allow Him to take away the pain, the loneliness, the hurt, and the lies they hear whispered in their ears.  
I want them to find God in those dark places instead of turning to abusive men and addictions.   
I want them to at least have the knowledge that they are not alone in this.  

Anyways, I just thought I’d share some of my passing thoughts with you all as I continue preparing for this journey.  If you have any ideas or suggestions, please don’t hesitate to send them my way.  I’d love to hear them! E-mail me at: tiffanymarie725@gmail.com




Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Thank you Catholic Compass!

I'd just like to take the time to specially thank Kathy Grobe and the Catholic Compass for giving me the opportunity to share with them as I prepare for this journey and print this article in their June issue. 

The Catholic Compass is a diocesan magazine for the Pensacola-Tallahassee Diocese.  


I am blessed to have had this opportunity to share with them this mission and my hopes for the future of the Farm of the Child

If you have a chance to read the article, you can find it on page 10.  

This month's issue also features a beautiful article on a mother's journey towards healing after her 6 year old daughter was killed in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings and how her faith is holding her family together. 

Click here to read the issue:


Sunday, May 26, 2013

Why You Should Donate to this Missionary Fund



Two years ago, I was at the Farm of the Child as they celebrated Pentecostés (Pentecost Sunday).  The night before was a big celebration.  We built a big bon-fire, had a candle lit parade around the Farm grounds singing beautiful hymns and ended at the Chapel where we prayed the rosary as a community and at each mystery watched our orphaned kids perform a skit.  About half way through, one of the guards came in to notify a missionary that the police were at the gate.  Later on we heard that they had brought a little boy, about 7 or 8, to the gate and dropped him off.  They didn't know where he came from.  All they knew was that he had been passed around the country to get to us.  This is a very typical example of what goes on every day with the children of Honduras.  

I know that this tugs at your heart as it does mine.  The range of emotions is far and wide.  But what do we do; what can we do as there are so many needs in God’s kingdom.  Everything we have has been given to us by God.  The life we have, the education we have been able to receive because of where we were born, even the job that helps sustain our lifestyles and families have all been given to us despite how hard we may have worked to attain them.  

Because of this gift of life, we have the choice and duty to give some of it back to Him in gratitude.  Part of this is giving it back to His kingdom which would be the poor, our Church, ministries that support our faith, and trusted charities that will use these funds correctly and wisely.   

That is why donating and tithing is such a beautiful thing.  It is an intimate and humble way to connect with God.  It is a way to say thank you to our creator and to continue bettering humanity in the small ways that we can.  To send money to a charity for a specific fund like supporting a child (which can easily be done at the Farm of the Child) or sending funds with a mission group to build something for the mission itself is a beautiful way to contribute to this mission.  However, simply sending money and buying building materials is not enough.  

Think about it as if you were trying to build a home.  What if you spent all of your money on buying the building materials and the land?  You wouldn’t have your home.  You would simply have a stack of lumber and building materials on a piece of property.  It is the hands of the dedicated worker and craftsmen that turns the stack of building materials into a home.  One without the other simply does not work.  That is why I have chosen to become one of God’s dedicated craftsmen to the children of Honduras.  

That is why you should donate to a missionary fund.  While not everyone’s circumstances allow them to take 2 ½ years out of their life and move to a third world mission, I feel deeply called by God to do this and do it now.  

Specifically, I need to raise about $12,000 by August 1 to cover my impact while I am fulfilling this calling. 

All I am asking you to do is spend a few minutes in prayer and if you feel moved or inspired, please simply follow these instructions on how to donate below.  I want you to know that I will be praying every day for you while I am at this beautiful and holy place known as the Farm of the Child.  

  1. Mail your check made out to the Farm of the Child (please don’t forget to put Tiffany Ross in the memo section of your check) in a stamped envelope to this address:

    Farm of the Child
    1616 Nottingham Knoll Drive
    Jacksonville, FL 32225


  2. Click here to donate online via the Secure Click & Pledge donation link:  Donate Now! 

[The Farm of the Child is an IRS 501(c)3 organization.  All donations are tax deductible.]

“Remember that when you leave this earth, 
you can take with you nothing which you have received—only what you have given.”     
-St. Francis of Assisi