First week in Guatemala City

I have just finished my first week working at CEDEPCA. Being here with such committed people in such an engaging part of the world feels great! Sure, it was difficult to leave home and begin a new chapter of my life; and to be perfectly honest, I do confess shedding more than one unexpected tear on the flight down from Atlanta. Leaving you all was not easy. But not to worry! I am confident this is where I am called to be.

Aside from setting up my office space with my co-worker Emerson Morales, I participated in CEDEPCA’s planning session. Over the course of one year, the office is undergoing evaluation of its programs and reinvisioning for the next five years to come. It’s a tedious process, for sure, but what I find most intriguing is the refining of its mission. Roughly translated and not yet final, it goes something like: Promote critical consciousness and empower people, churches and communities to construct new Biblical and theological paradigms leading to transformative action. What does this mean? I’ll tell a powerful story or two in subsequent blog entries, so please stay tuned.

It’s Saturday and I’d like to get in some exercise outside before it gets dark. Briefly, though, my living arrangements are working out very well. I’m living with a Spanish literature professor, Blanca, and her two daughters in a gated community (yikes!) about a twenty minute, sometimes exhaust-filled walk to the office. As it turns out, Blanca visited Georgia back in June, the same time that I had come down here with a group from the Presbytery of Greater Atlanta. She’s got a refrigerator magnet in the form of a Swiss Alps home with “Helen, GA” at bottom! She even visited Madison, where Mom lives!

There is another woman, Auri, who comes once a week to help clean the house. Her husband works in the States, given the lack of living wage jobs here (25% of Guatemalans live off of less than $2/day). Blanca requested I not ask Auri where her husband is living, as Blanca suspects Auri is fearful of letting others know her husband’s whereabouts. He’s already been deported once.

Two more items before I post this: Last night I went for a walk near the Central Plaza with Andrea, a friend of CEDEPCA’s. One of the streets is closed off to traffic, creating open public space for pedestrians. Every Friday night there’s a rag-tag, yet very talented group of musicians in their teens and twenties who play music on the curb, under the street lights. We sat on the opposite curb for almost two hours, listening, watching, laughing, clapping. Gathered in ever-growing circle were kids who live on the streets, elderly middle class women, college students, mothers with their infants and more. If only I could figure out how to upload onto the blog the videos I took with my new camera! I’ve tried a couple of times to do, but uploading goes soooo slow. Argh! Give me hints as to how to do it faster if you know any.

Last item: My first delegation group arrives November 30th from Kansas City. We’ll be working in some rural areas outside of Xela, up high in the mountains not far from where I studied Spanish at the beginning of the month. I’m excited, but a little nervous, too. I hope my Spanish will good enough for effective translating, and that my coordination of the work and learning experiences will help provide for a rich, transformative experience for all involved. Prayers requested!

Be well, and please do drop me a short note. I love to hear from you!

Granfran's Question, Answered from Guatemala

He's not going to be called a missionary is he? This question fell at Mom´s feet from none other than Mary Frances Yates Green, affectionately known as Granfran, my grandmother. On Sundays, you´ll find this sharp-as-a-tac 95 year old Episcopalian at Christ´s Church near Ft. Frederica on St. Simon´s Island, where she remains committed to the old school liturgy of the 1929 Book of Common Prayer.

From where Granfran´s suspicious missionary question comes I cannot say, but I´ll take a stab at it. Episcopalians (I was an active Episcopalian until age 23) are not eager evangelist in the popular sense of converting souls to Jesus, and perhaps it´s that rubric that comes to Granfran´s mind when she heard of her grandson´s work plans for Guatemala. I can imagine her cringing at the thought of my preaching in the streets of Guatemala City! Regardless of how we understand what a missionary is, I´ll still address the question: Am I a missionary? Well, maybe. Sort of. Yes, but not exactly … .

Until November 11^th, I continue working on my language skills here in Xela, a chilly 7,500 feet above sea level. This city, Guatemala’s second largest, sits in the shadow of the Santa Maria Volcano and serves as the crossroads for at least four different cultures: Mam and Quiche Mayan, Ladino (non-indigenous Guatemalans who identify more with their heritage of Spain and Western culture), and International (mostly comprised of Westerners like me who have come to study in one of the many Spanish language schools). So far, I’m not a missionary, but a language student and a bit of a tourist. An example of the latter: an exhilarating, exhausting, brilliantly scenic four hour mountain bike tour up and down and around an inactive volcano with a guide and three other Gringos!

On November 14^th, however, I’ll begin working with Cedepca (see www.cedepca.org), specifically with their Intercultural Encounters program. I will assist this program’s director, Emerson Morales, in leading delegation groups coming from Canada, Europe, and the U.S. Technically speaking, these are missionary groups and I will be their guide in their mission experience here. So, in this sense, perhaps I will be a missionary of sorts. Yet my work and Cedepca’s work is more nuanced and ultimately more satisfying than simply helping Gringos help impoverished Guatemalans.

These groups come from seminaries, universities, and churches to interact with and work alongside people of widely differing cultural backgrounds, such as Guatemala’s indigenous Mayan people, children living alongside Guatemala City’s buzzard infested landfill, and Pentecostals living in remote villages. As group leaders, Emerson and I will not only translate for the groups, but we will also facilitate reflections on the life of faith in terms of the world’s broader realities. Whether it be through hands on work helping construct a birthing center in partnership with a local community; listening to human rights lawyers share about the ongoing issues of justice in the wake of Guatemala’s civil war; learning about the many layers of immigration and the myriad of ways to respond faithfully; or whether we wrestle with the complex issues of U.S. Free Trade policies and their effects on poor Guatemalan farmers, the Intercultural Encounters program creates sacred space where lives are transformed on all sides for the longer haul of faithful discipleship amidst a broken and fearful world.

CEDEPCA’s mission statement emphasizes Paul’s teaching the importance of the transformation of our minds (Rom. 12:2), connecting mind with heart for ever more faithful participation in the work God is doing here and now for peace, reconciliation, healing, and newness of life.

So, back to Granfran’s pressing question: Is Alan going to be called a missionary? Hmm??? How about my passing this question on to you? Does my work, inasmuch as I’ve shared here, make me a missionary? What is your understanding of a missionary? Or perhaps, Are all Christians called to be on a mission, regardless of location, age or work? Should we all understand ourselves as missionaries? I would LOVE to hear your response in the comment section below.

Until next entry, Shalom!

Alan