the dignity of serving others

On my first day of actual vacation away from the Farm, my first reaction is simply that I miss those kids.  It's shocking to hear, especially considering that the day before I left was full of meltdowns and drama. The question I keep coming back to is, "why am I here?" What's the point?  Please don't judge.  It's something I think all of us naturally ask ourselves at least once during our time here. 

When one of the teens lashes out at you to make sure you understand that you're not poor, you'll never be poor, and you'll never know what it's like to be in her shoes, what would you say?

When the pain of seeing and hearing about children you love hurting other children you love is thrown directly in your face and it feels like nothing is in your control, what would do?

When the constant feeling of you're not enough, there aren't enough of us, and you know you want to be giving more than you physically can, how would you cope? 

These aren't dark times in the Finca, but there have been some dark days.  A local community leader of Corazalta, the pueblo half way up the mountain near us, passed away unexpectedly and, unfortunately, in a way that would have been preventable in the States.  There have been several incidents where we, as missionaries, have been asked to use our free time to spend with specific children for long periods of time to help give them some space from there houses, but we've been forced to neglect the others who need our love and attention as well.  School started three weeks ago and, while we've all adjusted to the fast-paced life we now lead with our lives scheduled down to the T Monday through Saturday, I'm not sure any of us have had a second to breathe. 

So yes, vacation is good.  But no matter what, the world keeps on spinning, things keep on happening, and none of it revolves around me. Or anyone for that matter.

What is service? I think I'm starting to finally realize that it's not in what I do here.  I'm not here to do things.  It's great that I can teach Kindergarten and English, run Girl Scouts, a small youth group, running club, and many other random odd-jobs.  It's great that I can go to the local women's faith group and support our neighbors in that small way.  But whatever I do, it will never be enough.  I will always disappoint someone, even if that someone is myself.

What I can do is listen.  That's all people really want anyway, isn't it?  Isn't that why we spend all our time on Facebook and twitter, sending snapchats and pintristing our lives, our faces plugged into our phone screens constantly.  Trust me, even though I live in the campo, everyone still has a facebook and cell phone.  People just want to be known. To be heard. And why shouldn't they? There's dignity in that. 

So you want to serve others?  Don't you ever tell yourself you aren't enough.  You are enough.  All you have to do is be a listening ear and willing to hear the stories of others.  That's a service we can all give.  That's giving dignity to the world.

Unconditionally

                All my life my mother has told me she loves me unconditionally.  My dad did too, but my mom said it more often mostly because she was reprimanding me more (don't worry I know you loved me both the same). I know that did more for my self-confidence than anything, though.  Knowing that no matter what I did, my parents made it clear that they would always love me, always. I guess I never realized how much that affects a person until I got older and began to notice something different in those who didn’t have that security.  I felt grateful and sorry and I wanted them to have what I had and know that feeling of safety all at the same time.  I especially want that for our kids here. 

                Ever since I found out I would be the Kindergarten teacher this year, it’s been on my mind to give the classroom a much-needed paint job.  So, with some donations from last year’s Kinder teacher and my parents, we were able to finally buy some paint.  When the kids are on break here and too old to be in winter camp, they go to PAVI which stands for Puente a la Vida Independiente or Bridge to the Independent Life.  It’s a way for them to learn basic skills like gardening, cleaning, building, painting, etc.  In it they are able to help beautify the finca, literally eat the “fruits” of their labor when it’s ripe, and earn a little chore money to buy ice cream or save up and get a nice pair of fashion sandals all the girls are obsessed with.  Part of their money does have to go into a savings account that they will work on building up over time until the day they leave our care and another portion goes to charity and the Church which they choose to do themselves.  It’s a great program and really gives our kids life-long skills and a good understanding of solid work ethic.  

                So, when it was suggested to me that I use the PAVI girls for two days to help me paint the Kinder classroom, I thought to myself, “Well, I’m sure it would be easier for me to do this on my own, but these girls deserve a fun project and I can teach them the proper, professional way to paint.”  What I forgot was that they’re all teenage girls. 

                It was what they would call here in Honduras an absolute relajo (or an absolute mess).  Not only were they painting their hair, their shoes, and each other when I wasn’t looking, but they painted literally every single part of the classroom save the floor and ceiling but including the electric sockets and the light switch. I made them stay late to clean out the school pila they dumped the paint brushes and buckets in leaving a nice layer of watery paint sitting and staining the inside of the sink.  After that first day, I realized I was in way over my head and I was dreading the next.  But, as we left the girls were laughing and singing and I knew that at least they had enjoyed themselves and the first coat in the classroom didn’t look half that bad.  I found myself wishing I spoke better and could explain myself as clearly as I wanted to.  I understand their frustrations with me when I can't tell them specifically what I want; I had plenty of Chinese TA’s in college who barely spoke English…I feel for them.  It’s not easy, but they could be a little easier on us too.  

                The next day was worse because it was raining and they had it in their heads that this meant we don’t have PAVI.  They fought me on it all morning and by the time we got there and started painting, they had an attitude I hadn’t yet seen come out before.  It’s hard for them because up until this point, they saw me as a friend who came to spend time with them and hang out all the time.  And it’s not their fault because in the past as a Summer missionary and someone who came with the Church brigades, that’s what I was.  But now I was in a disciplinary position and I had to hold them accountable for their actions to help them grow and become good human beings and it isn’t comfortable for anyone.  I felt like I had been hit by a train and I was so frustrated and angry at the way they were treating me.  The Farm has a system where the kids get graded on their work from that day on a scale of 1-5, 5 being above and beyond and 1 being needs great improvement.  At the end of the week, they get their points added up and that determines what privileges they get such as going to the weekend movie night or being grounded at home.  Let’s just say that this particular weekend there were quite a few older girls who were not at movie night.   

                I tried to stay as calm as possible, but when we all came back after those two horrible days, I just felt like crying.  This isn’t what I came here for and what good am I doing here if they all hate me?  The last time this happened on a slightly smaller scale, one girl didn’t talk to me for 3 weeks straight. Despite all this, I’ve come to an understanding that this is normal and expected.  Being a missionary is hard.  We are stuck in this small in between of friends and peers who these kids can and should trust, but also as the adults responsible for disciplining them when they act out.  It’s basically crash-course parent training.

                In the end, some wrote me apology notes, others asked for me to come hang out with them several times a day, and another one just needed a hug to make sure I still loved her.  It reminded me that not only do these kids not have what I will always have in my parents, but I'm reminded of the sacrifice it takes to live, work, and give here and that it’s all worth it.  They are worth it.  They remind me of the unconditional love my parents showed me as a child and make me want to be a better person every single day.  We have to be those people for them.  In the words of my parents, “I can be your friend and your parent, but if you make me choose I will always pick being the parent because I love you.”  I feel like I’ve never understood those words more in my life than I have now. 

Posadas and Pizza on a Rainy Day

               December here is flying by. Homemade Christmas decorations are going up everywhere, supplies for endless and ridiculous amounts of cookies are being bought in the city, and in the missionary house you can almost always hear Josh Groban or Michael Bublé Christmas music playing.  School is out—even winter school—and the kids can be found playing marbles at almost every house when they aren’t competing over best decorations.  It’s certainly not a typical “white Christmas”, but I’ve lived in Florida for the last 8 or 9 years so it doesn’t really bother me too much. The cloudy and rainy weather here gives it a nice wintery touch, which is a little helpful for the others.  If anyone’s started to feel homesick, it’s not long-lived seeing as there is so much to be done before La Noche Buena, or Christmas Eve.

                There’s a tradition here that starts 10 days before Christmas called La Posada (Inn).  Two people dress up as Mary and Joseph and go from house to house seeking refuge for the night.  The rest follow them house to house and sing the Posada song.  The first few reject them, all in song, and the final one lets everyone in to sing Spanish Christmas Carols, pray, reflect on a verse, and share a merienda (snack) typically of a baked good—doughnuts or sweet bread—and juice in a bag—a Honduran favorite.  We do it here every day around 4:00, but it’s traditionally done in the evening.  It’s a beautiful tradition to keep alive for the kids and to celebrate the coming of Christ.  Each of the kids in the houses has a chance to dress up and it’s a great reminder of what we’re waiting for.  Everyone is preparing for la Noche Buena.

                As I said, school is out.  That means all us teachers have the week off—sort of.  Well, to give our middle school kids incentive during their 5 week tutoring sessions over their winter break, we created this star system.  They get different things for certain amounts of stars received, but they all saved up during those 5 weeks and decided to buy a bibliocine and pizza (yep, pizza and a movie).  Next time you teachers out there decide you want to take the easy way out and promise your kids pizza you can order up in 5 minutes and put on a movie, I hope you think about what we have to do down here just to get the pizza out in time and then give that delivery boy an extra tip.

                It starts fairly early in the morning.  I have to collect wood in the wheel barrow from the community pile and take it back to our fogon cooking area in front of the house.  Then I take the wheel barrow back to house 5 and go to house 6 to borrow their machete.  After that, I take the machete and slice some pieces of wood to make kindling (thanks to Patrick, because before that I had no idea what to do).  From there, I have to form a little Lincoln log house inside the horno (clay oven) and the fogon (stove top) and stuff it with paper and finally light it.  As the fire burns in the horno, we can start on the Pizza dough and let that rise for 45 minutes.  Meanwhile, the salsina (sauce) can start cooking on the fogon as we grate the cheese.  Once the dough has risen, we can flatten it out into a pan, or as many pans as we may need, add the salsina, cheese, and they’re ready to go!  I just have to take out the burning wood from the horno and leave in some coals and we can set the first pan in.  One problem with cooking on a fire heated horno is that the heat doesn’t stay strong or last nearly as long as a normal oven would.  Our kids get creative though…

The pizza actually didn’t even turn out that burned either!  We sat down to enjoy our work and watched Narnia: the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  Maybe I’ve been gone for too long and away from TV and movies, but that is much better than I remember it.  If you haven’t seen it in a while, add that to your lazy day Christmas list.  

From our little house to yours, the Farm of the Child wishes you

 a Very Merry Christmas

and

 a Joyful and Blessed New Year!

Easy (no rise) Pizza Crust

1 pakage of dry yeast (1 tbsp)

1 tsp of sugar

2 tbsp of olive oil

1 tsp of salt

1 cup of warm water

2 ½ cups of flour

1.       Mix dry ingredients.  Then add water in slowly.

2.       Knead and let sit 10 minutes.

Servings: 11g. pizza

Servings (x2): 3 pizzas

Servings (x3): 5 pizzas

White Garlic Sauce

Margarine

Garlic

Onion

Milk

Flour

Salt

Pepper

Basil oregano

Shredded cheese

1.       Sautee butter, garlic, and onion.

2.       Add in other ingredients as desired.

3.       Let simmer.

PS- Sorry for the late delivery! Internet has been out in town for a few weeks, but we’ve managed to find one place that got it working again! Thank for your patience.

Merry Christmas!

Little Treasures

Man, I love these kids so much…but, they drive me crazy!  Always testing the waters, pushing my buttons, but pushing each other’s more.  They can be so sweet and then ten minutes later they’re throwing a fit on the ground or fighting.   I just keep telling myself to suck it up and get through winter school—their version of summer camp and what the newbies are in charge of every year…which is me, Curtis, and Kit—but it’s hard.  I hope this is good training for Kinder though.  Lord knows I need it.  Tutoring in the middle school every morning, on the other hand, is so much more calm and relaxed!  I love it and love teaching them, even when they have attitude.  They don’t get nearly as disrespectful as some of the little guys can. 

This is really when I need to remind myself that I’m in the thick of it now.  I’m finally living out my mission.  I work at a children’s home in rural Honduras—there are endless amounts of chickens and turkeys living outside my window under the roof of our clothesline—and my job is to help  teach, love, raise, cherish, and care for these 37 kids and I know I’m right where I should be.  No one ever said this would be easy. They did say it would be one of the most fulfilling things I’ll do my whole life. 

A new pet turtle the kids found at winter camp

Oso, our resident watch dog who isn't actually ours

And I see this at the end of the day when I’ve finished with the long meetings, the disciplining, my (sometimes very gross) chores, the cooking after struggling to light that fire in the rain and waiting three hours for the beans to be done, and even after that cold shower that’s feeling more and more unwelcomingly icy every day.  That’s when I think to myself, “Thank you God so much for bringing me here.  Thank you for letting them steal my heart.”  Because if I really look back and think about my day I’m reminded of the beauty around me and of those priceless moments I know I’ll remember for years to come.  From sitting in morning prayer with the little girls who are cuddled up to me, still shivering from the morning shower, to the beautiful sunrise that greets us every morning as we walk to the Chapel, warming our hearts as it’s gentle rays peek over the mountains and dance through the branches.  I’m reminded of making coffee and donuts from scratch with the older girls who need the love and attention all teenage girls seek; of laughing and joking and doing each others hair; of simple, quiet games of chess, even as they teach me by way of relentlessly destroying me; of those sweet moments when a house 4 boy runs up to hug me with an unfaltering joy-filled smile.  I’m even reminded in the times I struggle to light the fire only to be surprised by the girls next door cheering me on and encouraging me with their shouts and crazy cheers.  And finally when I make myself get into that icy cold shower and dry off, I know my endurance and will power is getting stronger and more resilient. I’m becoming a more patient person every day.  

God works in these moments of all our lives, but I think I’m finally learning that it all really depends on the attitudes we take.  Some days will always be harder than others, but we still have that choice. I think the same goes for understanding blessings in the world where so much suffering exists. We live in a fallen world and must choose to look for the beauty that God creates out of tragedies. 

(Thanksgiving blog to come! Just got to the internet after it rained and flooded for 3 days straight...pictures to come soon too! Promise!)

Support the Farm in a Simple Way

As most of you can tell, you've pretty much helped me reached my goal for fundraising.  Thank you so incredibly much for your support.  It is such a blessing and no small thing to be overlooked.  

For those of you who have become big fans of the Farm and would like to support it in a small way, you might consider purchasing a new Farm of the Child shirt.  

https://www.booster.com/farmofthechild?share=9001382459064080

They make great gifts too! 

More updates to come...winter school and winter camp are about to start up on Monday so things are a little crazy.  But I promise an update is on it's way!

Love,
Tiffany

Candlelit Showers and a Rat Race

It’s been a while since I last updated you all and I thought I should let you know that I’m finally home and at the Finca!  Things are wonderful here and I’m beyond grateful to all who have been praying and supporting me to help me get here.  

Just to update you all on life at the Farm, I am the new Kinder teacher (pray for me even more please!) School doesn’t start again until February, but in the mean time I will be helping with Winter School for the little guys (like Summer Camp) and Escuelito (Summer School) for the kids who need a little extra help to pass into the next grade.  I will also be in charge of Girl Scouts and the Women’s Faith Group for the villages surrounding us.  It is so wonderful to be back and reunited with so many friends and I’m just so happy to finally be here and begin to work.

                After a week of shadowing the Kinder classroom, I am growing more and more used to the idea.  If you asked me that two weeks ago I would have said HELL NO can I teach and calm down kids who are still beyond reason and haven’t yet learned to control their bodies.  After a week of shadowing and assisting the current teachers, however, I have to admit I’m falling in love with them.  The other day one of our little guys came to school with a hurt arm.  After the teacher tried to gently hold his arm to guide him back to his seat, he dropped to the ground and started bawling.  I went over to comfort him and see what was wrong and saw that his arm was bent and looked broken.  The poor little guy told us his dad was in the hospital because “he was really really old” and that he was staying with his cousin who was another kid in the class.  The nurse had told his family to get it X-rayed earlier in the week but they hadn’t for whatever reason.   

                 We’ve just recently been told by local patients who have come to our clinic looking for help only a doctor can give that the three local hospitals in our area are on strike.  The last strike that happened lasted for months and with the upcoming November elections, who knows how long this one will last.   All I know is that this means my little friend’s arm won’t be able to get set and he’ll have to live without a cast or anything to protect it at six years old.  No child should have to live with a broken arm and let it heal bent like that.  It could affect him for the rest of his life and definitely hurt him when he starts growing more.  He’s such a tough little guy with the sweetest little angel eyes.  The trouble is, that’s common here and it’s something I’m going to have to learn to deal with.  We can offer assistance and let them know if it’s about money, our missionary community can pull some funds together for them to go, but in the end it’s not our choice and we can’t force any one to take action or for the government to get their country’s needs in order.  That’s a tough realization to come to especially when it’s affecting a little guy that I really care about.  

                On a different note, another thing I’m getting used to is candlelit showers.  The power doesn’t go out nearly as often or for as long as it did the summer I spent here two years ago, but it does still go out almost daily at some point.  Last night we were lucky and had two power outages just in time for dinner.  While it is inconveniently hot, there’s something to be said about spending time with friends on a Friday night without any distractions of phones or internet.  Candles can make a world of difference in clearing the mind and helping you relax.  It also helps stir creativity…

You see, we’ve had a long-running problem with rats.  Maybe it’s because we have the most food out of everyone on the Farm and maybe it’s just because we aren’t as experienced with rat-proofing our things, but it’s been a while since the house had a rat killing so we decided we were in need of a competition to get the ball rolling again. This is a real Rat Race and it will be going on for 10 days.  Teams have been made and money has been put down.  So that’s how we spent our Friday night: making home-made innovative traps in the glow of a foggy full moon and candles.  And, why, you ask, have we not tried actual rat traps?  That would be because, my dear friends, the most intelligent ones remain and they don’t fall for those tricks.  Also, we have some cat allergies in the house so we can’t use those clever animals either.  This morning was like Christmas and we were all excited to see what we caught.  My team was duped by the clever ratones, but the others did manage to catch two little guys and a rat queen.  While this may sound ridiculous to you all, I can’t emphasize enough that this is not a battle.  This is a war.  Our house is infested and every night is a fight to keep our food safe.  We will be continuing on for the next 10 days.  Any and all advice is welcome.

Fiestas, Viajes, and a Boda

(Festivities, Trips, and a Wedding) 

For those of you who have been asking my mom how I’m doing, I am great!  So sorry I haven’t updated you on my progress through language school, though.  Time really is flying by.  And I hate studying…so it’s no wonder I have procrastinated writing as well.  I am doing very well though and the happiest I’ve been since I can remember.  Other than a minor case of bronchitis, some very very tired and sore muscles, a few stomach aches, and lots of rain, things are really wonderful here in Antigua! 

 

But in all seriousness, I have been extremely blessed with a truly amazing group of young adults to work with during our time at the Farm.  It is amazing to see how well all of us have molded together to form a strong, united group.  “Un groupo unido, jamás será vencido”  has become our mantra…and yes we did steal it from the Guatemalan’s on Independence Day for those of you wondering.   It means “united, we will never be defeated!”  And that couldn’t be truer from what I’ve experienced by traveling and spending day after day with these amazing individuals.  I love them all. Even when we disagree or mis-communicate, it isn’t a big issue. I’ve noticed that where some of us are weak, others are very strong and it makes for a very good combination.  

Needless to say, we have experienced a lot together over the past few weeks (has it only be 4 or 5 weeks??).  I started volunteering twice a week at a place in town called Casa Jackson with Noelle and Curtis.  It’s basically a place where malnourished children from all over Guatemala come to be taken care of for about 6 months typically and then they are sent home a little over their recommended weight because they may lose some again as their parents adjust to the new nutrition guidelines they are given.  This is tough because there is so much poverty in Central America and more often than not parents can’t feed their children and afford the nutrition necessary.  But, as sad as it makes me sometimes, I am overjoyed to know that these recovering, adorable, energetic little guys have parents and families to go home to one day.  They aren’t stuck in their cribs forever.  That’s basically what we take care of for an afternoon or two a week.  We come in to relieve the tired and jaded nurses from the constant crying by changing diapers (we’re becoming experts) and holding the little ones who just need someone to give them attention and love to help them get better. 

Me & Lisbeth (photo by Curtis)

We have been traveling a lot lately, mostly on the weekends.  Instead of describing it to you, however, I am going to cheat and just share two videos Patrick made.  The first is of our trip to Lago Atitlan which is a beautiful crater lake surrounded by three volcanoes! It was amazing.  The next is of this past weekend when we stayed in Antigua to celebrate Independence Day with Guate…which was also amazing!  America needs to get it together…this was the coolest Independence Day I’ve ever experienced.  I mean, there was a parade for three days straight people.  

Lago Atitlan: https://vimeo.com/74069602 

Guatemalan Independence weekend: https://vimeo.com/74594820 

  

Things in the casa are great as well.  I still love my guate-family and they have helped me to realize how true the saying is that man cannot live on bread alone.  I’ve literally been living off the stuff.  I wish I could say its helping me grow in my faith and that maybe I had a deep reflection to share on the matter, but really all it’s done is make me realize that I need some serious fruits and veggies.  Who would have ever guessed that these Antigueños would be so addicted to every type of bread known to man and endless tazas of tea.   I am trying to enjoy it, however, because I know this is not what I should expect in two weeks by any means.  I can’t wait to see what kind of meals and dishes we can come up with at the Farm.  I hope the current missionaries are okay with a few random and potentially bad meals before we become pros at cooking everything from scratch on an outside fire.
 

Anyways, Francisco pequeño—the four year old cutie in my house—has turned my bedroom window upstairs, which conveniently opens up to the upstairs courtyard, into a tienda.  More often than not I will be reading, napping, or trying to make myself study, when I’ll see two little hands move through the curtains always followed by a little voice, “knock knock…excuse me señorita but I would like to buy a Coke nice and cold, some cookies of course, and also some medicine.  Yes yes I need medicine to fix pain in my head, feet, toes, arms…oh and for my dog too!”  How can I resist spending time as a simple tienda owner?  He is adorable and reminds me every time after a long day at school that it is all worth it.    

In other news, Curtis and Noelle got remarried to their other Mayan-halves.  Natalie and I were blessed to be in the bridal party and, seeing as Patrick was the only caballero (or spanish cowboy…which is ironic because he is also from Texas) that Curtis happens to be friends with, he was the honorable best Mayan man.  

We were really helping out some of the Mayan women who set up shop in our school every week to show off their incredibly intricate and beautiful trajes tipicas, or typical indigenous dress.  For the woman it consists of a blouse called a wipeel (and I’m probably misspelling that…sorry Shep!), and beautifully woven and equally colorful falda or skirt and it is completed with an ornately embroidered belt that holds it all together…and that is no understatement.  I think that belt is the equivalent of a corset because I definitely could not breathe.  Anyways, for Independence Day weekend celebrations we helped these Mayan women along with our school to put on a fashion show by modeling their trajes tipicas from different villages and they decided Curtis and Noelle would complete the show by getting married.  It was very fun and only confirmed my desire to become Latina.  

Well, hopefully you can see how beautiful this place is gracias a Patrick’s videos.  If you ever have the chance to visit Guatemala, Antigua is where you want to stay.  It is a beautiful, truly enjoyable place and makes the culture shock much easier…probably because while you are adjusting, you are falling in love with everything about it.   Pues, I think that’s all I have on my mind to share for now. 

I guess I covered most of it apart from getting pick-pocketed on a chicken bus, stuck in the market because the streets flooded, watching a large Mayan woman sit on my friend Joe’s lap for a whole van ride, the earthquake that had supposedly 74 aftershocks, the active volcano we climbed that spit steaming rocks out constantly, and the AMAZING retreat we had with Zulena—the co-founder of the mission.  Yep…I think that’s it for now.  Love you all and thanks for caring so much!  I am SO excited to get to the Farm and love on those kids and can’t wait to tell you all about it.  I promise to try better to keep this baby updated as well.

Lots of love from Guatemala,
Tiffany

PS- If you have donated recently and possibly after I left the States, THANK YOU!  I haven’t forgotten about you, I have simply become adjusted to chapina time (or Latino time) and apologize for not sending you a formal thank you.  I will try my best to get them to you as soon as I can with someone traveling home to the States.  Thank you for your support!