Sunday, August 30, 2009

Seven Cars for a House

A pastor we worked with in Xela wanted to show me his house one day. I didn't really understand because he lived in housing provided by a missionary, but I went anyway. After arriving I realized that construction had just finished on a rental property. I am a big fan of investing in real estate, and had nothing but praise for him and his decision to think about his future.

He answered the question so I didn't have to ask it. How did he get the money? He explained:

"In the past 10 years I have been given 7 cars by pastors in the States. They come down here on a trip and see that I don't have a car, so they buy one while they're here and give it to me. I drive it for a little while, but after not too much time I sell it. Then the next time a different pastor comes down, he does the same thing and buys me a car. The same scenario has repeated itself, and I have traded those seven cars for this house."

This is, obviously, blatant exploitation of the generosity of Gringos. I don't know whether to blame the pastor for lack of due diligence, the missionary who started the church (and was still paying the pastor's salary) for not giving the pastor the complete picture, or just blame the Guatemalan for everything.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Cutting some Corn

My friend Quincho planted his first 50mx50m plot of corn ("milpa" is when it is still on the stalk.) He was really proud of it and said that any day now the corn would be ready to cut "elotes" (corn on the cob). It would be a few more weeks before it would be ready for the big harvest that they could dry out and save to make tortilla dough. I told him that when it was ready, to let me know and I would go cut elotes with him and then my wife could make it for us for lunch.

I got the call and we went in the pickup. It was only about a 30 minute drive on a 4x4 only road. Quincho, Mateo (14 yrs old.) and a big Gringo armed with machetes and a sack. The showed me how to tell which plants were ready and where to slice the plant. Also, how to cut the corn down with the machete. I see now why there are so many thumb injuries (we hear every week about somebody else who almost cut their thumb off). The white and even yellow corn here is not the same as the States. It is tougher, and not very sweet, but it tastes good with salt and neither Quincho nor Mateo had ever had corn on the cob with butter on it. Apparently they liked it. I ate 2. Quincho ate 6 (after a hamburger).

One thing I didn't expect to see: In Guatemala you have to protect your corn from parrots instead of crows. Instead of making a scarecrow (or even a scareparrot) the man next to Quincho killed a pisote (coati mundi) and hung it on a stick. That attracted vultures, whose presence keeps parrots away. I don't know anything about the health effects of rotting carcass on corn, but we'll see if that guy dies.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Every Missionary's Best Friend

My mom wanted us to get a shop vac soon after arriving in Guatemala. They aren't very easy to find and it has been a running joke for the past three years. Finally she bought us one from the Sears in Guate. It is a 5 hp, 12 gallon craftsman. Since taking it out of the box 10 days ago, we have had something to use it for every day.

The first day I filled it up twice with sawdust from the cribs I made here so that we could use that workshop room as a storage room. We never would have been able to clean out that dust without it.

The second day, after putting in new pipes to move our washing machine (our previous laundry room is now the nursery), I turned on the water pump forgetting about the pipe I cut in the nursery. I was strutting around, very proud of myself for not having any leaks and verifying that the new drain was working when I heard water running and it came pouring out of that room. I grabbed a broom to start sweeping it out the front door (we've done this many, many times in the past 3 years) when I remembered my WET/dry vac. In just a few minutes I had everything cleaned up with the only wet casualties being a few flip flops and a belt.

I could go on about cleaning up concrete dust in the shower after fixing a pipe there, or concrete dust after hanging some new curtains my wife just sewed, or picking up flaking paint from walls that got too humid, but the point is that this appliance will probably become a permanent fixture in our hallway... always ready to go where needed. Well, probably not, but I'm really happy to have it, and I think everybody should have one.

Monday, August 24, 2009

The Unexpected Holiday

Here there is at least one holiday every month. The trick is knowing when it is. Also, the days are pretty randomly put together. Of course you know about the main ones like Christmas Eve, New Year's, and Banker's Day... oh, you don't know about Banker's Day, neither did we.

Last month I went to the city to get new tires. I made the trip on a bad tire that I had no confidence in. I arrived to find the city (Santa Elena) full of Army troops and every business was closed. You would have thought there was some sort of coup, but it turns out they were celebrating Army Day. It was a Tuesday, and Army Day was not supposed to be scheduled until Friday, but Santa Elena decided to celebrate on Tuesday. So I returned on Wednesday to find out that it was Banker's Day. On Banker's Day, everybody is closed except the Bank, which is open for just a half day.

How do you make money when you take off for any number of reasons and just shut down your business? You don't, which is another reason why people here are poor. Also, how does somebody not from your town know about the holidays without paying money in gas or transportation? There is no official Guatemalan calendar that announces every holiday in every town.

Another time I needed to get some truck paperwork done. Being short on cash I decided to take a bus, sleep on the way, and take a bus back that same day. I called an acquaintance in Guate the day before I left to let him know I was coming. He had some work to do in Guate, so we couldn't get together. That night I left on the bus at 10:00pm and arrived in Guate at 7:00am. Once I arrived I discovered there was a Guate City only holiday and nobody was working that day. So I had to pay for a hotel to come back the next day. I called my acquaintance (notice I didn't say friend) and asked him about the holiday. He replied, "Oh yeah, I thought about that after you called, but guessed you'd just figure it out when you got here." Sometimes Gringos are stupid too. :)

The US embassy is even worse. They work Monday through Thursday and a half day on Friday. However, they also take off all US holidays, Guatemalan National Holidays, and Guatemala City Holidays.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

A Culture of Selfishness

Ok, this might be a touchy subject, but once I understood it, I finally had an answer to the WHY question when we get frustrated with things here.

The culture here is selfish. People grow up and live their lives to look out for numero uno. It explains so much. This is so vastly different from the US foundation of Christian values, namely "Love your neighbor as yourself." I'm not exactly sure how the Guatemalans missed it. Maybe some of it is survival instinct.

Selfishness is why the buses rush and put everybody else either behind, or in danger. The driver in his mind is more important than you. For the same reason people skip ahead at stop lights or will blatantly skip you in line at the store.

Selfishness is what causes somebody to get a dog that they can't feed, and then let it run in the street because it would be too much trouble to keep penned up.

Selfishness is why people will borrow money from the Gringo with no intention of paying it back. It is why they will steal from the Gringo with no feelings of remorse.

Selfishness is why a father would rather get drunk than buy his kids shoes or school supplies.

Selfishness is what will keep Guatemala poor and a third world country. If everybody is only working for themselves, there can't be real teamwork, or helping each other move forward.

Selfishness is what happens when God is not in the picture. God is love, and LOVE is what motivates a person to put their own needs/wants aside and do something for somebody else without expectations of reciprocation.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Guate Wreck

Seen on road to Guate from Petén. Luckily I got there in time...so as not to be delayed by cops directing traffic.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Pinchazo Pt. 2

I had another tire problem not too long ago. While driving around 70 mph, I lost a band on my left front tire. Upon inspection I saw that the metal tire guard had been bent by a mechanic and caught the tire. Thankfully, this happened within 100 yards of a Pinchazo.
The man was working with his two sons and there happened to be two other men there that I knew. I was happy to see that the two boys were working right alongside of their father. The older one was in charge of the jack.

He did not have any tires the same size as what I needed (and my spare was already one of my tires.) He sold me a used tire to use that was much smaller, but fit the rim. It didn't seal right (as the only used tires he gets are ones he takes off of other people's vehicles or buys from people who don't want them any more), so he got some plastic wrap and made a seal. Here is his younger son wrapping it up.
It became a job that everybody pitched in for to get it to seal right and inflate. The tire lasted me long enough to drive home (15 minutes) and back to the city (45 minutes) to buy real tires. Total cost: Q250. Cost of two brand new GoodYear A/T tires in the city: Q3000.






Sunday, August 16, 2009

What? I could buy a motorcycle?

We head to the States on Thursday. There are a lot of things you have to do when preparing to leave for an extended time, but the most important for us is to make sure somebody looks after our dogs. Quincho is a young kid (just turned 20) who has been a great friend. We spend a lot of time with him and he is at our house a lot. He also chops the grass once a week with a machete.

Our dogs are really comfortable with him, and he likes to play almost as much as my Boxer. We have left before for short periods of time and he was the logical choice to watch the dogs. It costs him Q5 each way to get to our house. The deal is that he comes to the house in the evening, feeds the dogs, and sleeps in some hammocks we have hanging in the patio. In the morning he feeds the dogs again and heads home.

We pay him the very, very good rate of Q100 a night. That is how much I pay my lead construction worker per 10 hour work day, and Quincho gets to sleep as best as he can for the majority of the time.

I was explaining that this would be around Q3,000/month while we are gone. It is a small price to pay to keep our dogs alive and have somebody watch our house at night so that our neighbors don't steal everything.

He was telling me all the things he was going to buy with his money, thinking in terms of just Q3,000. He has never had that kind of money before, and was listing the normal things like a stereo and cell phone.

It was then that I stopped him and mentioned that if he would save the money, in just three months he could buy a motorcycle. The thought had never occurred to him. The biggest problem his village faces as far as keeping a steady job is transportation. To head to the big city to get a job costs Q40 round trip, and the average job for an unskilled worker is around Q50. However, motorcycles get much better gas mileage, and carpooling would cut his costs in half.

So we went motorcycle shopping. I had to explain that after the cost of the motorcycle he would have to pay for plates, and a helmet, and a jacket. Also have money to repair a flat or change the oil.

Quincho's biggest problem is holding onto money. Even if he could stop himself from spending the money, as soon as he gets home one of his siblings or his mom would ask for the money, so we had to set up something else. I will pay Quincho Q1,000/month and set aside Q2,000/month until he has the money saved up. Then when he gets the Q8,000 needed to buy the motorcycle we will go and buy it.

Now out of the Q1,000/month, 300 will need to be spent on daily transportation. And as much as he calls me, another Q100 will go towards phone minutes, leaving him just Q600 to live on each month.

It may not sound like much, but Quincho still lives with his mom (his dad was killed by "the army" during the war). Right now he lives on Q400/month income of which most goes towards buying things for his friends or splurging on fried chicken, so the biggest challenge will be saving the Q300 for bus fare. If he spends it he will just have to make the 12km trip on foot.

I will be sending the money through Western Union from the States.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Anybody for some jungle rodent?

Ever since arriving in Petén we have been told about the best meat in the whole world. Keep in mind that this is coming from either ex-guerrillas or Kekchi people, therefore from people who eat anything they can catch (such as iguana, parrots, monkeys, snakes...etc.) However, there is one animal that is better than chicken or deer or even beef.

Tepezcuintle here in Petén, also known as a Paca in English. Click HERE to go to the Wikipedia article. Basically it is a 25 pound jungle rodent. Sounds delicious right?

So after being here two years I still had managed to avoid eating it. It is pretty rare and just last year a law was passed, banning it from being served in restaurants. Lonely planet cautioned against eating anything in Petén that might jump from the menu to the endangered species list, and it turns out they were right.

However, my friend's mom has a restaurant and just so happens to have pet tepezcuintle, and they serve tepezcuintle to "amigos" which means anybody that won't rat (pun intended) them out to the authorities.

Finally we had the opportunity, on the way back from Belize, to stop by and eat. My wife ordered steak and I ordered the greatly coveted and slightly prohibited rodent. Grilled Please.

Honestly, it had so much spice on it that you would never known what it really was. It was a little too "Game-y" to be chicken, but it was white meat and had that texture.

So after this experience, a Peteneros "right of passage" you might say, of course I'm going to tell all my friends about it, right? I mean, they've been talking about this big rat for a long time, so of course the Gringo that thinks too much of himself has to brag at least a little. At first everybody got that glazed over look with slight drooling (kind of like my Boxer) and I got lots of kudos.

Little did I know that this is one of those times it is better to just keep your mouth shut. Instead of saying, "Hey everybody, I ate tepezcuintle!" I should have waited until somebody talked about it and then I could have said, "Yeah...I tried that once." And really downplayed the situation.

Case in point. Monday night, in between Bible Studies, my Kekchi friend Marcos came and invited my wife and I to his house for "frescos" (drinks). That alone is dangerous to drink here because I've seen the villages well and pipes and cistern, but it should have been obvious that no Kekchi invites you to his house just for some drinks. It always involves food.

So I walked in and was presented with the customary bowl of piping hot liquid with a hunk of meat inside. I sat down and started to eat, because although Kekchi food may not be the safest food to eat, it always tastes good and they probably put enough chili on it to kill any bad stuff...

As I'm eating I asked what it was because the last time I checked chickens didn't have little tiny ribs (the part of the animal I was fortunate to get.) I was told that it was tepezcuintle! Marcos had hunted and caught it with his dog and since he knew I liked it so much, his wife and daughters prepared it just for me that night!

Afterwards some boys that were there with me last night had seen other skins hanging outside Marcos' house, so I guess I'm lucky I got rodent instead of monkey! Nevertheless, I have eaten two tepezcuintles in a month and now I am wondering just how many more of these things I am going to eat now that I opened my big mouth...

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Anybody need some rope?

Ok, so in my last post I told you about THEY. Now we have had another run in with this problem, but with a twist.

Because my wife is pregnant with twins, and this will be her first time giving birth, our doctors in Petén, Guate, and the States have asked us to be in the States for the last trimester. Because of this, and regular Guatemalan stuff that happens, I have just now given her the nursery room, ready to be decorated. This gives her a whole 2 WEEKS to get everything decorated just the way she wants, not to see it again for 5 MONTHS. Needless to say, this has created some stressful situations.

If everything was as easy as running down to Home Depot, Hobby Lobby, or even WalMart, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. But we are in Petén, which makes everything harder to find and twice as long to get it done.

One such project is a wall map. Deciding it would be difficult to paint an even line that she would like (she has some OCD tendencies) she came up with the idea of putting it on the wall with rope. Guatemalans love rope, even make a lot of it here, so we thought it would be an easy find.

After not finding rope in 5 different places in our town (besides the plastic kind) we were left with the option of going to town. Luckily, there is a hardware store that has just about anything you'd need, albeit one of each thing and no options from which to choose(the Super Hardware Store).

So I went to the city with the instructions to "Buy a lot of rope." At the Super, I found some rope that was nice and bought all that they had, thinking that 24 meters would be more than enough and I would get all sorts of praise for my great find.

Now for the project details. The wall is 4 meters long by 3 meters high. My wife wanted the world to take up the whole wall. I bought enough to go wall to ceiling 8 times. Surely that is enough right?

Well all we got was the outline of N and S America, and from Russia to South Africa heading west and then South. My 24 meters wasn't enough. No problem, right? Just drive back to the city (45 minutes one way) and buy more rope. I even took a sample to make sure I got the right kind.

After 7 hardware stores, I figured out that everybody has rope, just that everybody has a different size. My size was 3/8. I found 1/8, 3/16, 1/4, 5/16, 7/16...etc. However, nobody had 3/8. So I went back to the Super, already knowing that I had bought all that they had. After talking for a while, they remembered that "the lady" had some at her house but wouldn't be back until that night. If I would come back tomorrow at 9am they would have it for me. Still skeptical, I figured it was my best shot, and thinking it was a good idea, left my sample with them just to make certain that they brought the right one from "the lady's house."

I made one more stop before heading home and to my surprise they had rope labeled 3/8! I no longer had my sample, and it looked a little smaller, but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. The price was better, so I bought 45 yards of this rope, and headed home to what I was sure would be a hero's welcome!

Of course, the rope wasn't the same. Not even close. It was even a different color. But at least I still had my Super friends and my backup plan to return the next day to buy the exact same rope as what was already on the wall.

Upon returning the next day, I didn't think to cut off another sample piece of rope. My Gringo brain was thinking that of course they would still have my sample from the day before. I got there and they pulled out a big dirty wad of rope that supposedly measured 275 meters. After talking them into only pulling out rope from the center of the wad (that wasn't dirty) I asked for my sample. They replied that they didn't have it, but they checked and this was the same rope.

I bought 30 yards and headed home, admittedly with a little less confidence. My fears were made into reality when upon comparison the rope was different. My wife's regret was that I didn't have a sample with me when I got there, not so that I wouldn't have bought a third type of rope, but so that I could've told them what she thought of them wasting several more hours of her decorating time.

She decided to finish the map with the second type of rope, it being the closest. Here are the final results after a total of 60 yards of rope. If you are wondering, we sketched it with a projector and we attached it with hot glue.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Who are THEY?

We learned a lesson early on. When you find something you like, buy it all, because the next time you go back it may be gone forever. We learned this well during our first few months in Xela. We went to the grocery store (a really nice one called Hiper Paiz) and bought the reasonable number of two cans of Campbell's Tomato Soup. A week later we were surprised that they were out, but figured it would be back in stock in no time. Four months went by before they had any more. By that time we had learned our lesson and since that time we have never had less than 15 cans of tomato soup in our house (you HAVE to have it if you eat grilled cheese sandwiches.)

We have been through this many times with many products. Hot Chocolate, Toaster Stroudels, cans of Corn, Pop Tarts (I'm not telling you where I buy them), Pop Corn, Charmin, Paper Towels, Tide liquid detergent... just to name a few.

We have gone weeks at a time without chicken, or cheddar cheese, even pork of any kind. Last December after a month with no bacon or ham I asked the butcher at our grocery store here in Petén why it had been so long without any pork. She replied, "oh, it's out of season."

Now we buy large quantities of these things when we find them. Especially in a grocery store where they have scanners, you would imagine they would have some sort of inventory system. In high school I worked at Walgreens and remembered the manager's frustration when we would get 5,000 rolls of toilet paper because some wacko bought 500 in one day (me preparing for one busy night of TPing) and the inventory system didn't want the store to run out when it was obviously in high demand. We buy often, even when we don't need more, hoping that somebody will get the clue that there are Gringos that want it and if they bring it, we'll buy it.

But whether we are in a hardware store, tienda, gas station, or a Maxi Bodega, we always get the same answer: "THEY haven't sent it yet." Who are THEY? Nobody knows. Neither the managers in the large stores, nor the owners of the small places have ever been able to tell me who THEY are. Apparently, THEY are some magical people who send a truck and everybody just buys whatever comes off the truck. When I ask if they can order something for me, THEY don't do that. When I try to explain that I will always buy something if they bring it (like I bought 23 packages of Pop Tarts last week), I am always told that THEY just send stuff and you never know what you're going to get.

Deep down I know that it can't be so random as that. I'd like to think that somebody, somewhere in Guate is getting these shipments from the States and thinks, "I bet if we send this to Petén that Gringo will buy it." Now if I could only get a phone number for THEY...

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Post a Comment!

I changed some settings that I didn't really understand, and now commenting should be a lot easier. I have to approve your post before it shows up, but I'm open to opposing views and discussion and will only block that which is offensive or spam. Thanks for reading!

What's Wrong With Supporting National Pastors?

One mistake we observed while working in Xela for our first 10 months was the great mistake missionaries make by supporting national pastors. This is an accepted practice that most people take for granted. I can't speak to other countries, but in Guatemala this is one of the most disastrous things you can do to a ministry.

First of all, the whole idea of supporting a national is so that the church can be independent of the missionary. The thought is that it is a stepping stone for the pastor and the church. For the pastor in that he can work hard, bring in more people, and have a larger congregation giving to help pay his salary and the church expenses. For the church in that the members may have not been giving very much, knowing that the gringo is in charge, but now they can learn to give as God would have them to.

However, we saw a problem. When the check comes from the missionary, the pastor works for the missionary, not the church. He becomes a hired employee. We'll leave the abuses we saw by missionaries toward their "employees" for another post I'll probably never write, but the point is that pastor should work for the church. When the missionary "hires" a national pastor, he creates in that man a loyalty to the missionary.

What we saw was something we didn't expect, but makes sense economically. The pastor had been in charge of the church with very little influence from the missionary for several years. The missionary would write him a check every month. However, the church never grew. This was blamed on the location, or that the people were "hard-hearted", or that the dreaded Pentecostal churches were stealing away everybody. While these things probably had something to do with it, during our 10 months there we never saw the pastor work to get new people. He never went to visit new people, never had a special activity, not even advertising. He was apathetic towards things we did, not opposing, but not doing anything to help either.

We finally saw what the root cause was. As long as the church stayed small, the pastor got a regular paycheck. He had that security in doing nothing. If the church had grown to the size where it could support a pastor, he would have been dependent on his job performance. He also would have been dependent upon Guatemalan giving, which in reality is not as consistent a Gringo's paycheck.

Many missionaries are more than happy to fall into the rut of cutting a check. Maybe it comes from the power one holds when somebody has to come by to pick up their check. Maybe it is the confidence that they can still count a church as having been started when they tally up their stats. Maybe it is easier than to have to worry about each excuse the pastor will come up with to keep getting money even after he has been "cut off."

It is my opinion that a missionary should NEVER pay a pastor a salary. Either turn over a church that can already support a pastor, or set up the expectation that the pastor be bi-vocational.

Our situation is different from the majority of missionaries in that we are far from civilization. Our men will have to support themselves because even if the entire village attended the church, there wouldn't be the money to support a pastor. Our Pastor's Institute will be set up to teach agricultural skills along with the Bible classes so that a man can feed his family and pastor without ever expecting a pay check for his labors.

I'm interested in your thoughts on this.


Thursday, August 6, 2009

El Encantadero

My wife's favorite restaurant in Flores is Las Puertas. It is owned by Cristina, a Chilean lady who has been in Guatemala for a very long time. She is a wonderful friend of ours, although pretty liberal and an avid environmentalist, and will speak English if cornered into it. Everything in her restaurant is safe to eat, and made from natural ingredients. She labels it "Gastronomical."

But if you want to get off the beaten track, head over to Jobompiche. There are micros, but I couldn't tell you how much they charge. The road is rough, but it is well worth it. There she converted her house (right on the clearest water of the lake) into a restaurant. Place your order, then head down to the lake to skip rocks, lounge in the hammocks, go out in her real wooden canoe, play with the crocodile (just kidding) or just sit on the dock and enjoy the view.



We always stop by here with our groups after a day at Tikal. We usually get there right before sunset and it's a great ending to a day. I order the steak because there are not many people here who have good steak. Tell Cristina that Jimmy sent you and it will get you a smile and maybe a free coffee with dessert.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Can you really have friends?

When you come from a significantly different class from somebody, can they really be your friend?

I'm not talking from my point of view, because we care for a lot of people and feel that on our part they are our friends. But we have thought many times that certain people were are friends, only to get burned. Then after you get burned several times, it starts to make you question all your relationships.

Can somebody with nothing, be friends with somebody who in their mind has everything, without hoping that their rich friend will take care of all their problems? Look at it in the States. Do movie stars and professional athletes hang out with middle class? What about hanging out in a ghetto somewhere? Could they maintain that relationship without the less fortunate person looking for or even expecting a handout?

Even though we're not millionaires, everybody thinks that we are. When we get invited to birthday parties, is it because those people are our friends, or because they know we'll bring a gift and maybe loan our plastic chairs for the event?

There have been times when we thought somebody was our friend, and we cared about them. So eventually they need a favor, let's a say a ride somewhere. So give them a ride. Then the next week they need a ride again. Then their family member needs a ride. Then it no longer becomes a favor, it becomes something that's expected. So if a week comes along where you really don't have time or gas to give the ride, you're the one that has to apologize and the other person gets offended. I know it sounds strange, but people will break off all contact with you and keep their kids from coming to your activities for small things like that.

We have lots of people that we care about and would do anything for. If their kid needed surgery, we'd find a way to help them out. If they needed a ride, we'd be more than happy to oblige. However, we could count on one hand the people who would be there for us if we ever needed help.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Why Wouldn't You Want To Go To The States?

I get lots of people who talk to me about going to the States. Sometimes they think I can get them there easier, or get them a job once they do get there, or something that would benefit them. Other times they just want information. That's why I was pleasantly surprised the other day when one man told me he could never spend even 6 months in the States.

His reason was that he could never go without eating his food! He said that every meal he wanted some tortillas, beans and limes. Apparently he would go crazy if all he had to eat was white bread, hamburgers, pizza, or any of that other stuff Gringos eat all the time.

Oh yeah, and he wouldn't want to leave his family for very long.

But more than that, he would really really miss his good home cookin'!

Isn't it nice to know we're not the only ones who have troubles adapting?