Us with Joseline, goddaughter numero dos (see how brown I am?!?:)); Rico, yo y Juan Antonio, our ahijado; Richard and Susana, la otra (the other)

Richard was here for twelve days. We explored the vibrant city of Antigua Guatemala—its incredible restaurants, many designed to attract tourists, some designed with local people in mind and one really really great one called Panza Verde for anyone who can afford it; we crawled through mercado after mercado, absorbing the ridiculous array of colors; we searched for the best deals on stuff like jade and art; we studied Spanish with phenomenal teachers; we burned our feet in the hot black sand of Monterrico and were privileged to see the fragile, endangered mangrove forest; we met really cool, smart and interesting people (you know who you are:)); and drank some great beer—Gallo for him and the best dark beer in the world, Moza, for me. And if you ask him, which I did, Richard will tell you that going to Nuestro Futuro in Ciudad Vieja to meet our ahijados was the very best part of the whole trip.

Yep. It is a cool place. The library (sans the stupid "donation" of used English classics. I repeat, Billy Budd--really?!?) is fully functioning now with computers for community use and some books, real ones, in Spanish and at all levels. The food is also real food now; the kids get tortillas and frijoles at 9:30 and then a real lunch at 12:30 before they go home, as opposed to the white bread with jam on it from the last two years. A part-time child psychologist has been hired and there is also a curriculum expert. Every day, amidst math and science and Spanish, the kids learn of the great Mayan culture of past days and its influence on modern-day Central America. They also learn of more modern-day heroes, such as Jacobo Arbenz who, in our pathetic sense of knowing what is best, we, the US, had couped (yeah, I know--no such word. Deal with it.) out of office in 1954 because he had the wild idea that Guatemalan land should be owned by, oh, maybe Guatemalans--the people who work it?!? Of course, the terceros aren't getting all of that, but they are learning that, amidst the hardness of life in poverty and living at the lower levels of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, there are real things to be proud of. And oh, yeah, a second school in San Lorenzo (a kind of suburb about 10 minutes away) has just broken ground, with classes scheduled to start in January. Way cool!!!! There are now 134 students at Nuestro Futuro and I think someone said that 82 now have padrinos. Money well spent on our part (could be on your part, too--just a suggestion:)).

Richard says (again, cuz I asked him) it was humbling to go out to the school and meet our ahijados and see all of the kids doing their thing. When we got there, two volunteer wanna-bes who ended up not really sticking around for more than a couple of days were at organized play with the terceros. Everyone was having a great time, as these kids love love love attention from big people and big people love love love the monsoon of unsolicited affection.

Yet "humbling" seems a strange word to use in describing the experience. We are typically humbled in the presence of greatness, brought to the realization of our own puniness on the face of something much bigger, grander than ourselves. What is so grand about 34 kids, many in raggedy-ass clothes, and many chronically malnourished, doing what all kids do--laughing, learning, crying, running, fighting, making up, flirting, tattling, joking, helping, goofing off, struggling and on and onning? I asked my new BFF, Harriet, volunteer extraordinaire from Holland, this question, and we mulled it over. We agree, working out at Nuestro Futuro has humbled us both, yet we struggled to put words to the reason why. We came up with stuff like, "Oh, we have some much and take it all so very for granted and seeing people who don't have all that we do nonetheless moving forward is powerful," but this doesn't quite work because it still assumes that there is something grander about our own lives, which in many, many significant ways is very true. I guess "grander" does not mean the same thing as "more important," and maybe that is what is humbling--the realization, not that we are puny, but that neither are those 134 kids, skinny and short though many of them may be.

Anyway, I think Richard's experience was really good and I also think he now has a better sense of WTF I am doing when I come down here. Maybe now he can explain it to me:).

I have two weeks to go, but maybe only one more at NF, as I am kind of tired and am ready for a vacation (yeah, pathetic, I know, but remember that I am still studying Spanish in addition to the time I spend with the kids, plus I have been doing a bit of SSCC work, as well. Okay, poor me. I get it. I will stop now.). Belize is close by and I am thinking of treating myself to a couple of days on a Caribbean beach--one where I can go in the water!

Paz a todos.