Brit Speaking Spanish

Guate, accessible? Porque no! Guate, accesible? Why not!

2010-06-12T18:53:00.000-07:00

Before writing my last post tomorrow, I wanted to take a moment to write down some travel highlights from the last few months.

Kayaking Lake Atitilan
Lake Atitlan is Guatemala's famous volcanically-formed lake. Surrounded by 3-4 inactive volcanoes, Atitlan just might be the most beautiful spot in Guatemala (when the lake isn't going through an algae bloom, that is). Mickey and I went to explore, and did so in kayaks. It's been confirmed: kayaking is our new favorite non-basketball activity.

Tikal: the New York of the ancient Maya
We weren't too excited about the prospect of a 10 hour bus ride to the seemingly inaccessible Guatemalan national park, Tikal, but we finally got off our butts and planed the trip. Tikal is one of the worlds biggest and tallest Mayan ruin sites. So I knew that Tikal's pyramids were big, but I had no idea they were sky scraper big - puchica! holy cow!

We spent a day and a half in the park and fully enjoyed lounging around these Mayan giants, in addition to climbing them. Props to Mickey who pulled himself up each pyramid, including the jaw dropping ladder on Pyramid IV.
Sailing Belize
Since my arrival here I haven't stopped noticing fliers for "Let's Go Sailing Guatemala." Mickey and I kept telling each other we'd do it, but found ourselves putting off the planning for work's sake. With only a month more to go in Guatemala, we finally sat down to pick the sail-off date, and asked our boss, Alex, if we could disappear for a week.
We spent 5 days and nights on a sailing through Guatemala's Rio Dulce (translated: Sweet River, because it's fresh water), and Belize's southern islands. Each and everyday we swam, snorkeled, explored beaches/islands, napped, read, and enjoyed eating the day's catch. And...we got so swim with reif sharks (well...Mick swam, I hid a bit more), and saw manta rays and a 4-7 foot (ft. depends on who you ask) sting ray. Most amazing water life I've ever seen!

The trip's tiny hiccup: about 4 hours into the bus ride to our boat's sail off point, we realized we had forgotten our passports (which were a tad necessary, as we were sailing to Belize islands). Ah! Fortunately we were able to board the boat the next morning, after our passports arrived on a night bus.

¡Míranos voz! Check us out!

2010-06-08T19:11:00.000-07:00

The new Transitions website was unveiled a few weeks ago. Take a moment to check out our website. Take a look at the recent news...we are never short of amazing stories!

If you like what you see, consider sponsoring a wheelchair in honor of your father for this upcoming Dad's day.

And away we go!

Semana Santa. Holy Week.

2010-06-05T15:39:00.000-07:00

I can't say I'm the biggest Jesus fan, but I can say I got to remember Jesus the best way possible on this planet: Semana Santa in Antigua, Guatemala.

Semana Santa (Holy Week) starts on Palm Sunday and ends on Easter Sunday. Many countries and cultures partake in Holy Week celebrations, but the Semana Santa in Antigua happens to the be the most beautiful, fanatic, and famous of them all.

Here is the gist: everyday there are 1-3 processions that make their way in and around the city. What makes up a procession? There's lots of incense smoke and a funeral banks, and then 70-300 people in purple robes taking turns in carrying an absolutely humongous platform of solid wood on their sholders. The platform has a life-size Jesus figure on top.

Before the procession reaches a street/neighborhood, friends and family get together to decorate the street in front of their homes - they literary carpet the streets with colored saw dust and flowers (and are thus called alfombras = carpets).

Before the procession walks over these beautiful carpets, people come from all over town to admire the work of the neighborhood, and enjoys the mangos, churros, and pina coladas sold on the sidewalks.

It was a really cool week for Mickey and I. One morning we got up at 4am to make sure we caught a glimpse of Antigua's best-known carpets before the procession walked over them at 5am. Here is Mickey, me, and the Transitions dog Yogi at 4:30 that morning (please notice large crowd, and so early!):
The processions that came through our own neighborhood were the most enjoyable. It was during these processions that I realized how many friends we have in Guatemala. The whole week felt so warm, so familiar, even amongst the parking chaos and bloody Jesus figurines. But I must admit...it was pretty powerful to see a life-sized Jesus carried through our streets, and we also witnessed a crucifixion re-enactment. It was the closest I'll get to to 1st century Jerusalem, and I was left impacted and reflective on the significance of my holy week.

Todo bien, para nosotros. All is well, for us.

2010-06-01T13:56:00.000-07:00

Dear friends and family,

I'm guessing from the recent emails and facebook posts I've received that many of you have heard about tropical storm Agatha that hit Guatemala this past weekend, in addition to the Pacaya Volcano eruption this past Thursday night.

All is well here in Antigua. We are on slightly higher ground, so instead of Antigua flooding, the Antigua streets just turned into rivers. Some of our friends from work had to evacuate their houses on Saturday. We had solid rain for about 48 hours. Early Sunday morning the rain stopped. The storm headed north of Antigua and quickly died out from there. But damage has continued to occur in Guatemala: mud slides have taken over towns and streets, bridges are no longer, and a 200 ft. deep sinkhole has appeared in the middle Guatemala city! Here's a link to one article, of many.

As for the volcano eruption on Thursday night, apparently the volcano shot up 250 meters in the air. Note that this volcano is a frequently visited tourist attraction! I visited last fall with Mickey's brother Jake, and my friend Adam just hiked it a couple weeks ago.

It started raining on Thursday, so the volcanic ash combined with rain. A friend of ours said it was literally raining mud in Guatemala city on Thursday night. Clean up has been ongoing...but I'm sure the recent mudslides have not helped.

The airport has been closed, which wasn't too convenient for Mickey's flight out of Guatemala this morning, but he got on a flight on Thursday. School has been canceled for the week, but Transitions scholarship recipient, Nacho, has enjoyed his extra time helping Mickey on the computer.

Well, this is a lot to marinate on, no? Although Mickey and I, and all our friends at Transitions are safe and sound, this isn't true of everyone in Guatemala and Central America (the death toll is over 170). And like we saw with Hurricane Katrina, among other natural disasters, those hardest hit are often those with the littlest capital.

One thing I've been thinking is if this same destruction would have happened if the Agatha storm hit the States. Although some deaths would have been inevitable, we are lucky to be from a country where the infrastructure is extraordinarily sound...although we do need to work on our oil pipelines, don't we?

Thinking of you in Guatemala,
Brittany

The big decision. La decisión grande.

2010-04-01T13:43:00.000-07:00

On September 14th, 2009, I boarded a plane for Guatemala, expecting to return to the US the first week of April - just in time for the US National Wheelchair Basketball Tournament.

Well...here we are in the first week of April, and I am coming back tho the US for the National Wheelchair Basketball Tournament in Denver, Colorado; but, after the tournament I'm coming back to Antigua, not back to Berkeley.

I extended my official flight back till June 14th (accidentally making my time in Guate exactly 9 months).

Extending my time here was an easy decision. I really like my job - I'm learning a ton, as the responsibilities I've been given usually go to someone with a master's degree in non-profit management - and since I'm living here with Mickey, home feels like here.

Don't get me wrong, I miss plenty of things about los estados. While I'm in Denver next week I will be drinking water out of every tap possible, and will probably giggle every time I get to throw my t.p. in the toilet.

The hard part of this decision process was deciding if I would return to Transitions in the fall (after a summer at home with the moms). Transitions and I have grown quite fond of each other, and they need someone doing my work now, more than ever. Deciding where I'd be come August was an up-down, 2-3 month process. Ultimately, I decided I needed some more time exploring who I am and what I want to do. Transitions deserves a Development Director who can stay here for the next 1-2 years.

So what will my "exploration of self and work" look like?
Celebrating, my friend, Minh's wedding in June. Helping little kids learn the basics of computers programming in July. Random, and hopefully fun, temporary work in Aug. A around-the-US road trip with Mickey from Sep-Nov. And Nov-Dec traveling with my Mom to visit my brother, who will be studying abroad in Argentina. And that brings us to the end of 2010! I won't bore you with the 2-year plan that follows ;)

Projects! ¡Proyectos!

2010-03-10T16:43:00.000-08:00

'Tis the season for spring cleaning! Take a look at some of the projects we got going on this spring:

Project Corn Walls
We have a room! As mentioned in my previous post, Mick and I have got ourselves a room now. The make over process involved: extreme window and floor cleaning, new paint called “yellow corn,” and better lighting.

Top Guate Chef
Also mentioned in my previous post, Mickey and I have been cooking for ourselves each night. Because I’ve either lived in (1) the dorms or (2) my mama’s house, I actually don’t have too much experience with the whole “making food for myself” idea. But we’ve been having a good time with it. Below is evidence from pizza night. Because we don’t have an oven in our house, we built a double-boiler make-shift pizza cooker.

Construya casa
Say what?! We built a house! No, no, not Mickey and I, we’ve got a room. Transitions
built a house with the help of a few Rotary members and church supporters. In October we got some property donated to us, and we’ve been slowly preparing this property so we can one day house all of our programs in one grand facility. Just yesterday, we completed the finishing touches – doors and windows in, electricity finished, and floors polished! For the rest of the year, this house will be used by two of our clients in need accessible housing. The plan for next year is to move some of our offices to this space. We are so proud of this house!

Operation Color Power
Thanks to a motivated volunteer, and some money from a visiting church group, we just finished painting a mural in our Special Education classroom. The end result turned out B-E-E-U-T-I-F-U-L! This was my first mural project, and I’ve been sold on the power of a little color.

What you doin’ every day? ¿Qué haces cada día?

2010-03-10T14:37:00.000-08:00

So it’s been a while. What have I been up to? Work, and lots of it! But no worries, I do love my job here. This is what a typical day looks like:

6:30am – Alarm goes off, I’m supposed to get up.

6:45am – I actually get up and go for a quick run to central park and back, check the movie schedule at Bagel Barn (oh yes, it’s a bagel cafe plus free movies!) on the way.

7:15am – Shower, breakfast.

8:15am – Walk to work, takes 5 seconds as Transitions is a whole 50 feet away. Grab a mug of Guatemalan coffee and joke with the guys in the kitchen.

9:00am – My emails “should” be answered by this time. Also by this time, my boss, Alex, has probably come into my office with news of an important friend/visitor who we are giving a tour in an hour. In Guatemala, one never knows where the day will take them.

10:30am – I hungrily search for a snack in the kitchen, Edgar the Transitions cook/friend stops me and makes me eggs, beans and toast.

1:00pm – Lunch. Fried chicken day is my favorite. More joking with people in the kitchen.

2:00pm – Emails or Skype meetings or visiting visitors. Why don’t I take this opportunity to explain what my actually job is. My title is technically “Development Director” but sometimes I call myself “Manager of Donations and Outreach” because it intimidates me less. Right now I’m working on setting up a database of our 1,300 donors (one didn’t really exist previously!), and I help my jefe, Alex, with (English) communication to Board members, big donors, volunteers, Rotary clubs, and Church groups that support us. I also research potential funding opportunities and write grants. A couple weeks ago we submitted a grant to the Christopher Reeve Foundation, and this Friday another grant is do to an international relief organization in the UK. To say the least, I’m learning a TON!

3:00pm – On Tuesday and Thursday I have Spanish class for 2 hours in the afternoon.

5:00pm – Day ends. Mickey and I drag ourselves out of work and back home. So where is home? Actually, Mick and I now live in the Transitions Print Shop – the social enterprise side of our work. Just a month ago, our room was home to a few old computers and two big desks. But now, thanks to our newly painted yellow walls, a few pieces of furniture, and a pretty lamp shade, this room is home to us.

6:00pm – On Thursday we host English Night. We invite students at nearby Spanish Schools to volunteer with us an hour on Thursday, helping our clients with one-on-one English conversation. We always provide cookies.

7:00pm – Discussion between Mickey and I about what we are supposed to do for dinner. Here are some of the usual options: delivery from Pollo Campero (very excellent and cheap fried chicken, delivery is free), taco night, Brit struggles to make French toast, dinner a few blocks away in the Merced Church area, or bagel and movie at Bagel Barn.

9:00pm – Mickey and I have been watching episodes Arrested Development and True Blood on his computer. Some nights we read or study Spanish, every night Mickey pretends to be a True Blood vampire and scare me.

10:00pm – Mickey and I have a tendency to laugh too much in the evening. Sometimes I get a little wheezy (leftover asthma from bad pneumonia when I was 2) and need to you my inhaler before bed.

The beginnings of 2010

2010-02-07T13:17:00.000-08:00

December 31st was a bit of a challenge because the Murlas trio had to split up, and it didn’t help that Mom and Ky’s cab to the airport was an hour late…which made for one of my weekly “I’m really frustrated, and I want to blame Guatemala,” moments. But the rest of New Year’s Eve restored my faith in everything beautiful about Guatemala.

After dinner myself, Mickey, Mick’s brother Jake, and my friend Vic played King’s cup with cheap vodka and/or sprite. Shout out to Jake Kay for bringing the art of drinking games to Guatemala. Then we made our way to Central Park to take part in the festivities: bands, men running with firecrackers on their back, packed bars, and 2 simultaneous fireworks displays. It doesn’t get much prettier than fireworks over the Antigua arch; I felt like I was in a real-world version of Disneyland.

We spent the first day of the year relaxing in (chronological order) bed, the sofas in our house, and famous gringo-bar Monoloco to watch some football.

We decided to start 2010 off right with a scuba-diving adventure in Honduras (the cheapest place in the world to get SCUBA certified). Mickey, Jake, and I left our house at 4am on Sunday the 3rd, and after 20+ hours of travel arrived on the island of Utila on Monday morning, just in time for our beginning SCUBA lessons. Our rooms, dive school, breakfast nook, and hostel bar were interspersed on a few connected docks. Teal Caribbean waters lapped below, a baby sea turtle and several barracudas came to visit, the dive center’s 2 resident dogs chased pelicans in the water, and our dive instructor couldn’t be more knowledgeable. But while we were there, the weather was oh-so-shitty.

For 5 days I was forever wet, cold, or in a wetsuit. The weather made the water pretty choppy, so on our 1st dive Mickey found himself feeling pretty sea sick. When we came out of the water from our first successful underwater experience, Mickey threw up. I felt so bad for him, although puking in the ocean makes for a pretty easy clean up. Then after our 2nd dive that same day, when we came back up to the chopping surface, I threw up. Then Mickey saw me throw up, which made him queasy enough to throw up again! We both felt better by the time we got back to our dock, but vowed never to eat tomato soup together again.

By our last dive, the sun peaked out, and I had finally gotten over my hesitancy of being 60 feet under water. I left the dive school appreciating SCUBA for the freakin’ awesome sport that it is. It really is a whole other world down there. Plus being completely weightless really makes you feel like you’re on the moon! While on the topic of weightlessness…I was pretty darn bad at staying neutrally buoyant. Between 2-4 times on every dive, I found myself floating up to the surface, waving for advice from Mick, Jake, and our teachers below. I blamed my possibly large-ish lungs (good excuse?) when we got back to the surface, but then our dive instructor actually found a problem with my BCD (Buoyancy Control Device—basically a little life jacked that you can pump air in to). Yes! Better excuse!

By the end, I got the hang of controlling my breaths and my BCD – just in time to see a sea turtle, eel, porcupine fish, and a couple of bioluminescent shrimp. SCUBA-ing was just too fun for Jake to pass up the advanced SCUBA course the following day.

Mickey and I had to leave Jake, and after another 20+ hours on bus and boat, we found ourselves back Antigua getting ready for Transitions 2010.

Aqui estoy! Here I am!

2010-01-27T11:16:00.000-08:00

Hola friends and family,
First and foremost, my apologies for being MIA. December was a crazy month…as is January. Give me a chance to explain, and share some pics.

The first week of December, I took off work to travel to the highlands and help my friend, Thea, with a girls camp she organized as part of her position with the Peace Corps position. I really enjoyed getting to be a part of Thea’s community – both where she lives and works, and the community she has found through Peace Corps. I ended up teaching basketball to the 30 girls at Thea’s camp. Running ice breakers, energizers, drills and games for 3 days reminded me how much I love coaching, and how I’ve actually acquired enough Spanish to do so.

Just 1 day after I got back from Thea’s camp, my brother, Kyler, arrived at the Guatemala City airport. Because Ky came a few days before my mom and Mickey, we decided to go on an little brother-sister adventure, although both of us prayed it wouldn’t end in one of us strangling the other. We traveled to backpacker’s paradise, Semuc Champey, and found ourselves inter-tubing down rivers, getting up close in personal with thousands of bats, swimming through caves by candle light, jumping off waterfalls, and discovering the turquoise waters of Guatemala’s famous limestone bridge. We came back to Antigua with some friends we had made, one of which included a parasite in my intestine (quickly eradicated thanks to host dad, Dr. Gustavo).

Then Mom and Mickey arrived. Then Mickey’s brother Jake arrived. Then Mickey’s sister Susannah arrived. Then our Chinese home stay fellow, Vic arrived. Together we navigated Antiuga’s cobblestone streets, enjoyed 2 for 1 Cuba Libres and humongous nachos at Monoloco, hiked one of the area’s inactive volcanoes, watched Christmas eve fireworks from our roof, sampled Guatemalan coffee and Christmas tamales, and we studied Spanish together too. One of the more memorable holiday moments was learning how to make hot fruit “ponche” (punch) at my Spanish teacher Brenda’s home for a Guatemala Posada—a reenactment of Joseph and Mary looking for shelter…imagine 40+ people holding candle lanterns and singing until they reach to their host’s home and are invited in for “ponche” and tamales.

After Christmas, Mom, Ky, Mickey and I joined my boss Alex and his wife for 3 days on the beach. We slept in a littler cabana together, played monopoly together, but spent the majority of days in the hotel’s pool drinking piña coladas, and/or walking off our big meals on the black-sand beach.

We got back to Antigua just in time to celebrate Mom’s birthday on the 30th. We ate at nice Guatemalan-French restaurant, had a drink after at gringo-famous Monoloco, and then pool enough money together to buy her an oh-so-special Guatemalan jade necklace.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2009-12-03T06:34:00.000-08:00

Well, it actually started looking like Christmas in Guatemala about a month ago! My host dad started working on his nativity scene in October!

This past Sunday, after cleaning up from our basketball game, myself and a few of the Transitions guys ventured down to Central Park for Antigua’s tree lighting celebration.

Downtown Antigua is always gorgeous, but the lights, music, and fireworks on Sunday night made me feel like kid in Disneyland. It was magical, just like the holiday season should be.

And this holiday break will be especially special: my family is coming to celebrate with me in Antigua – our first Christmas abroad! And Mickey is joining us, as is our adored Chinese exchange student, Vic.

What do you get when you put the Murlas trio, a cute Jewish boy, and a Chinese Buddhist together in Catholic Guatemala…a lot of freakin’ fun, that’s what!

We aren’t doing presents this year, as were spending our dough on making Guatemalan memories. So if you are one of those close members of the fam that is considering buying a gift for us, save it, hand my mom a twenty and you'll treat us to a fantastic brunch on the beach.

Algunos Exitos. Some Successes.

2009-11-28T17:12:00.000-08:00

Many exciting things have happened in my job with Transitions. Here are some highlights with pics:

Last month, Alex and I decided we wanted to send out a really good holiday card to all our donors this year. Not only did we decide to send out a really pretty card, we decided to send them to over 1,000 people! So how did we put together that many cards? With hand written addresses, and hand written names inside every card?

Some how it all came together in just 3 hours! I asked my Spanish school to create a service project for their students, in the afternoon we needed help—thirteen of them (from all over the world) showed up. And then everyone who worked for Transitions was there, and then I bought pizza for everyone to keep everyone smiling. We finished all the cards and created a nice little Spanish-speaking, pizza-loving community while doing so.

Several weekends ago I spent a night at this eco-lodge in the hills above Antigua. There I stuck up a conversation with a couple that both teach at an “American” high school in Guatemalan City, and the wife of the pair coached the school’s basketball team! I encouraged her to bring her team to come play with Transitions one Friday afternoon. And they did!

This past Friday, 13 high schoolers, most of whom were Guatemalan and Korean (there is a big Korean population in the city), along with 10 or so teachers (who were most from the US, hence “American” school), to play wheelchair basketball. The Transitions guys were great, sharing tips, and their chairs. And before our young friends left, they bought us pizza, and I made them answer a reflection question, “What are you taking away from today?” – thanks for always being inside my head Cal Corps Public Service Center!

El dia de acion de gracias! Thankgiving! So, I had a hard time sleeping the night before the big day, because I had never made a turkey before, let alone a 20 lb. one!

I’m not sure how we did it, but Chef Edgar and I pulled it off: moist turkey, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, green beans and pumpkin pie!

Twenty-four of us came together to eat – my boss (Alex) and his wife, the boss of the wheelchair workshop and his family, the boss of the prosthetic workshop and his family, the Transitions guys who live above our offices, my Spanish teacher and her family, and 4 volunteers/friends from my Spanish school who have been coming to Transitions every Thursday night to help the guys with their English.

Everyone said the food was “rica” and gave thanks to everyone else for sharing this tradition with Guatemala.

I’m convinced that because my first turkey meal went so well, I’m going to have bad turkey luck for the rest of my life…or at least have bad turkey luck when I’m in the home country.

Un dia a trabajo. A day at work.

2009-11-28T08:40:00.000-08:00

A visitor to Transitions recently confided in me:
“In my journey I have always encountered wisdom and deep grace by my proximity to suffering BUT also by the undoing of it. In and through Transitions you will inhabit the undoing of suffering and by proximity you will discover your deepest humanity and if you pause for a moment and lean into the silence, recognize within you the power of God.”

Today was a day where I recognized both my proximity to suffering and also realized how Transitions works to undo it, and how I, personally, hope to help.

Last week we planned to make a trip to Guatemala City to buy some Thanksgiving necessities. After lunch today, Alex, Edgar (the boss of the Transitions casa), and myself hopped into the Transitions van, ready to embark on a search for pumpkin pie fixings. Just as we were about to leave, a very short young man, my age, came up to our office, walking completely with the help of crutches.

Before I realized what was going on, he was in the car with us, and we were on our way to la capital.

A theme of my stay here, and I think every foreigner’s time here, is that I’m never exactly sure what is going on. It wasn’t until we brought this young man see our doctor friend at a private hospital, that I realized how much we were helping him. As he was getting x-rays, Alex shared that Transitions has been a friend of this boy since he was 4. He left his home at dawn this morning, and traveled to Transitions, hoping for a little help—a rod, that had been put in his leg years ago, had become extraordinarily painful.

Because my experience with people with disabilities has been mostly through sports, I’ve had the tendency to focus on the awesome parts of having a disability, rather than why it stinks. You gotta admit wheelchair basketball is a pretty bad-ass sport.

But today, sitting in the doctor’s office, with Alex and Edgar, and this boy, hearing the doctor tell him that his bones will only get worse, and he’ll one day have to use a wheelchair…I saw in his face how much he was suffering. And although, we left the hospital with good news (our doctor friend is going to take the rod out of his leg for free) my new friend was distracted with thoughts of how his future would look.

Then we went to the Guatemalan version of Costco. Scratch that: it is exactly Costco, same products, same food court, same food samples in the aisles; it’s just called Price Right, not Costco. Our friend rode in our shopping cart and we tried to cheer him up. I joked about how many pies I would make him with the humongous can of pumpkin pie mix we found. And we ate pizza together after shopping.

But Guatemalan Costco, while very exciting (especially for a gringa preparing for Thanksgiving), still can’t cure how hard it is to have a disability.

There were so many times today where I couldn’t help but smile and/or laugh—working with my friends at work in the morning, our jokes in the car, the doctor’s willingness to help, deciding to buy the biggest Turkey offered in Guatemala. But there were also times today that I wanted to cry. What was moving about my day today, is that these two feelings went hand-in-hand.

El Dia de los Muertos

2009-11-25T07:52:00.000-08:00

So my last post leaves us at Sunday, Nov 1st – el Dia de los Muertos! And what a Day of the Dead it was!

After a night celebrating Halloween with a few Spanish-school friends, Sunday’s egg, bean, plantain, tortilla breakfast was very welcomed!

With a full belly, I wandered around Antigua, searching for Day of the Dead traditions. My instinct took me to the market first, where I admired the overflow of flowers and fantastically colorful kites. In addition to adorning love ones’ graves with flowers, adults and kids alike fly kites to honor the sprits above. I decided to buy a few kites of my own to remember the day that was to come.

I followed the crowd I found in the market, and soon found myself outside the Antigua Cemetery. The cemetery was surrounded by what seemed to be a festival – cotton candy, fresh popcorn, more flowers, and more kites.

I have never seen a cemetery so hopping, nor so beautiful. The law in the Antigua is that every tomb (all the graves are above ground) is painted white, compared to every other cemetery in Guatemala were each grave is a rainbow of colors. Antigua’s white backdrop made the gorgeous flower arrangements stand out even more. It was a beautiful day. Mariachi bands played between the tombs. Families laughed. Families cried. And I remembered those I had lost too.

I stayed longer in the cemetery than I expected, only leaving because I was pretty hungry.

My boss, Alex, picked up myself, and Transitions boys Nacho and Juanito, to join his family for fiambre. Fiambre is a cold meat salad eaten once a year on Nov 1st. It’s tasty – kinda like my Mom’s bean salad: salty, vinegary, but with more meat.

After fiambre, we piled into the car to go see us some humongous-ass kites. Sumpango, a town just 20-min away, is famous for its Day of the Dead kite festival.

It wasn’t until we reached the top of the town’s hill that I realized how huge the kites were. The biggest on display were 30-40 feet tall. While others were about 10-13 ft in diameter, but somehow could still be flown! There is no reason why you should believe this, except for my following video.

But the highlight of my day was still to come. Mesmerized, along with a crowd of 1,000, I wasn’t paying attention to the announcer until Alex tugged my jacket: “Extranjeros, esto es tu oportunidad.” That’s right I got to fly one of the kites!

The rest of the our time in Sumpango we took pictures in front of the kites too big to fly, and left as the sun started to set to join the rest of the Transitions crew for pizza.

My day wasn’t so dead. It was quite alive. But maybe that’s the point, to recognize the dead by celebrating the present.

Feliz Cumpleaños a mi hermano menor

2009-11-23T07:36:00.000-08:00

First, Happy Birthday Kyler! Here are some of my favorite memories from our 20 years together:

- You not ever letting me drive because I drive like a grandma.
- Snail hunting and Jojo's pool in Livingston.
- When you bar-b-que.
- Riding bikes, playing football, the slip 'n slide, and lots of popsicles at 404 Lake street.
- The many times you've scared and/or tackled me, and the times when you somehow get Meg to jump on me, instead of you.
- Sitting on one of the many Berkeley hills one night, venting about our dad.
- When you found out I had taken you to a completely vegetarian restaurant (Saturn cafe) after a day of Ultimate.
- When you told me that my caterpillar Fuzzy Wuzzy had to be let go because "his mommy was calling him."
- Watching you kick butt at BHS graduation, and at your ultimate tournaments.

Second, I've got several blog posts ready to be published. Get yourself ready for some fantastic adventure accounts.

Esta manana. This morning.

2009-11-11T08:47:00.001-08:00

I'm still writing many stories from the last couple weeks. But until I get my act together, the events of this morning are worth sharing! Events in Guatemala, and within Transitions often happen with late notice.

I got up early this morning because I thought Alex and I had a meeting in el capital. When we got to work, we found out our meeting is actually tomorrow, and today we had another event to attend: la carrera de chorolas! The race of waiters!

Oh the surprises one finds in Antigua, and within Transitions!

Saludos de todos a Trancisiones!

Memorias de las dos semanas pasadas. Memories from the past 2 weeks.

2009-11-03T06:31:00.000-08:00

• Evening walks for tea de manzanilla (chamomile) with housemate Kim.

• Gave a tour of our wheelchair workshop, while cutest kid ever was getting fit for a chair from us. I wish I could say we planned it that way.

• Transitions threw a fiesta for our Special Education class – hot as heck on the basketball court, but the pizza, cake, and water balloons helped us through the festivities.

• Convinced our visiting consultant, PJ, to play wheelchair basketball with us on Friday afternoon.

• PJ and his boss, treated us to the nicest dinner e v e r that night. Transitions 17 year-old adopted double arm amputee, Nacho, is so excited he orders pretty much everything on the menu.

• Transitions Founder, John Bell, takes myself and the two consultants on the “real Guatemala tour,” that the consultants had been begging him for. We rode in the back of a pick-up (along with the various people John offered rides to on the side of the road) all through the Antigua area visiting Transitions families.

• After our impressive “real” tour, PJ made dinner for everyone who lives in the Transitions house. Flan never fails to bring people together.

• Two of my friends from Spanish class came along with us to our basketball game in Guatemala City on Sunday. The Transitions guys very much enjoyed the new female company. Lots of jokes were had.

• Walking home Sunday, I get caught in church procession: 100 people, lots of firecrackers, and one huge baby Jesus figure.

• Executive Director, Alex, took me away from work to a nearby coffee plantation where we bought bags of “thanks for your big donation” coffee.

• Transitions has been learning/practicing a choreographed dance to participate in a flash mob in Antigua's parque central! What is a flash mob you ask? Although our dance is a tad more latin, this is an amazing example of a flash mob from Belgium: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EYAUazLI9k&feature=fvst

• My Spanish teacher takes me to the market to teach me valuable bargaining vocabulary.

• Halloween party at my Spanish school: free rum and coke starting at 4:30pm only hurt my country’s dance reputation.

A dream for Transitions

2009-10-22T07:26:00.000-07:00

I need you to imagine something for me, just for a second.

Tomorrow on your way to work or school or coffee, an accident happens. There are millions of possibilities, and many results, but the one I’d like you to imagine is becoming dependent on a wheelchair.

What would you be thinking while you were in the hospital? How many days and nights would you wish things were different? How would you imagine your future?

I still can’t imagine what it would be like to lose the ability to walk, let alone imagine what it would be like in a country like Guatemala: where there exists no government assistance for people with disabilities, where there are no curb cuts, no disabled parking spots, and where people with disabilities are frequently assumed to be a result of bad blood.

This week a non-profit consultant from the US has been spending time with us. This afternoon, Alex, the Transitions Executive Director (who at the age of 14 was caught between gang gunfire and paralyzed), and I brought our consultant, PJ, to the future site of Transitions headquarters – a ½ acre plot of land complete with coffee pants, banana trees, and 2 dogs. In about 5 years, will hope this property will house a bigger and better Transitions Wheelchair Workshop, Prosthetics Clinic, space for Computer Training Center, and even for a basketball court.

Alex’s passion was quietly conveyed as we toured our newly purchased (thank you awesome donors from last weekend!) property. The consult, PJ, was overcome in imagining the possibility of our future center:

The future must seem bleak for someone newly injured, especially in Guatemala. But imagine if a place existed, a sanctuary for disability, if you will – a place that is not only completely wheelchair accessible, but a place that has been built by your fellow Guatemalans with disabilities. After some time, the future no longer seems so unknown, because you are surrounded by people that represent every step of your transition process. Here you are rehabilitated physically, mentally, emotionally, vocationally, maybe even spiritually. Here disability is not an end, it’s a beginning.

The strategic plan for our $1.4 million capital campaign is just beginning. Stay posted.

¿Saben ustedes? Vivo aquí. I live here.

2009-10-21T07:04:00.000-07:00

I’ve realized something this week. I live in Guatemala.

On Monday, Alex, the Executive Director of Transitions, pulled me aside and asked I how felt about going to Houston in November for the annual Board of Directors meeting. One of the Board Members thought it was important for me to be present, and is offering his frequent flier miles and his home to me for the weekend meeting.

So this week, I’ve felt excited, and very honored, but my biggest take away from the Houston invitation has been the realization that I live here.

I’m going back to my country, but then I’m returning home, to Guatemala, because I work here, I live here, my life is here. And in my various times abroad, this is the first time I’ve felt like this. I don’t track my weeks and months here, like I did in Switzerland, Ghana and Honduras. Well, I am counting down till my family comes to visit for the holidays, and for Mickey to come join me here. But I’m not dreaming of my return to the Bay Area. Okay, maybe I’ve been thinking about Cheeseboard Pizza recently.

I love this city. I love the daily glimpses of gorgeous volcanoes. I love the open air cafes and the bars. I love when I have conversations in Spanish. I love all the churches, and parks, and bakeries. I love making things happen at Transitions – dreaming about possibilities, and working towards them.

A la playa

2009-10-12T07:09:00.000-07:00

This post is slightly delayed, as I went to the beach 2 weekends ago. But, hey, what’s the diff? I wanted to share some highlights from my time a la playa, in an effort to encourage those of you on the fence, to come visit me!

• Hard decisions: hammock time or beach stroll? Read before or after afternoon hamburger?

• Black volcanic sand looks like dirty sand but isn’t. Doesn’t look scorching hot, but is!

• Guatemala waves = crazy strong. They were so cool to watch, it was almost okay I couldn’t swim.

• Sites to see: sea turtle sanctuary, mangrove forest, beach football game.

• Licuados! Smoothies! Pinapple & mint, banana & chocolate, mango, coconut, watermelon. $1.50? Amazing!

• Happy hour starts at 10pm? Sorry, that’s past my bedtime.

• Venture out to beach for early morning meditation. Meditation interrupted by incoming wave.

Transiciones – Capitulo 1

2009-10-10T12:24:00.000-07:00

A month into my experience, how have I not yet written about my work at Transitions?!

I think I’ve been a little intimidated. There is too much to explain—all our programs, all the people. How can I share all the stories that need to be told?

Writing about Transitions and my work here has to be an ongoing process, as the organization alone deserves over 100 blog posts. So, be on the look out.

One of my tasks these past few weeks has been to write and translate some of the stories of Transitions staff and clients. And I’m excited to share them, because what a better way to start explaining my work here?

Diego Marroquin (personal account)

My name is Diego Marroquin. I am 21 years old, and am from Guatemala. When I was 15, I was selected to play professional soccer, so I stopped my studies, and supported my family with my earnings from soccer. My future as an athlete was bright, and I was excited.

One and a half years ago, as I was walking to my house with a friend, a vehicle approached us and shot us both. As we lay on the ground, scared and in pain, the car disappeared. My life changed dramatically that day. I am now a paraplegic.

Everyday, I thank God for the opportunities I have found at Transitions. Here I found the support I needed to recover, and regain my motivation. Now I’m studying to finish high school, and I’m training to be a wheelchair manufacturer and repair technician at the Transitions wheelchair workshop.

My peers at Transitions have taught me to be excited again about my future, and to again become an athlete, because I am now part of the Transitions wheelchair basketball team.

Hasler Suarez Trujillo

When Hasler’s mother was pregnant with him, she lost her husband to Guatemala’s violence. Two years later, Hasler, his mother, and 3 older sisters were walking home from church, when a car crashed into them. Hasler lost his right leg, and his mother, her left leg. Both lost their legs above the knee and fortunately received prosthetics.

Like any 11 year-old, Hasler grew taller. Yet as he grew, his prosthetic leg did not. His prosthetic became 10 cm too short, causing Hasler severe back pain on his daily walks to school, a condition that doctors warned could rapidly develop into scoliosis. But his family could not afford another prosthetic leg.

Thanks our Prosthetics Workshop (and the support of World Emergency Relief ), Hasler now has a new prosthetic, and walks to school free from pain. Doña Mariam, Hasler’s mom, describes her son as extremely active and enthusiastic. She has been impressed with his studies, as have we. We are excited to watch Hasler as he continues to grow into an outstanding young adult, helping provide for his family, and continuing to share his story.

Mi Familia

2009-10-05T21:33:00.001-07:00

I remember, every year when Mother’s Day rolled around, asking my mom why there wasn’t a Kid’s Day. She responded that every day of the year is Kid’s Day. Good point, I didn’t argue…but little did I know only a tad more south Guatemalan children got their day.

This past Thursday, October 1st, was el Día de Niño. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I thought a tiny gift couldn’t hurt. So the eve el Día de Niño I found myself in the Bodegona (Antigua’s grocery store) looking for a gift for my host sister, and also for thicker toilette paper (I’ll save that explanation for another post).

The day felt a little like Christmas. I wrote a note to go along with Gaby’s new purple pony, and put it next to her cereal bowl. When I got back after my Spanish classes, she thanked me and tugged me to her room to show me her, now bigger, pony collection.

That night, my host mom’s family came over for pizza and cake to celebrate Gaby. And Gaby wasn’t the only ecstatic niña, as I have been craving pizza for the last two weeks.

Gustavo, my host dad, made a toast to Gaby and mentioned something quickly (si, en español) about celebrating a new niño, while gesturing at his wife’s belly. That’s right Flor is pregnant! And guess who gets see the whole process? Me. Guatemalan style!

After dinner someone suggested breaking out the photo albums. Let me take this chance to describe my host family a little bit more. My host dad, Gustavo, is a doctor, working in a forensics lab and also as a surgeon. We’ve had a lot of good conversations about people with disabilities, economics, and Obama. Gustavo, and my host mom, Flor de Maria, are both from Antigua, and were friends from high school. Flor has a part time job at an office in the center of town and also manages a house she rents to volunteers. I can tell, from their pictures as sweethearts and by their actions now, they thoroughly enjoy each other and their family.

Gaby is a 5-year-old, who loves two things (1) animals and (2) pink. And she doesn’t like her homework. And who does? Especially before 1st grade! I guess being a kid in Guatemala isn’t just ponies and pizza.

La Cancha. The Court.

2009-09-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

I’ve come to welcome blisters on my hands. Blisters mean I played wheelchair basketball, that I played hard, was part of a team…and that I smiled.

Basketball has unexpectedly woven itself through my auto-biography. When I was 15, new to Berkeley High, I made my first friend (shout out to K-Dawg) through basketball. When I studied abroad in Ghana, I started having a richer experience once the University of Ghana women’s team began their season. Wheelchair basketball became a thread through my college years. At BORP I found an extended family, I found my favorite father figure, and my partner in crime, all from just playing around with kids, wheelchairs, and basketballs.

If I had to write an auto-biography, playing wheelchair basketball in Antigua with the Transitions team would be a new chapter, if only because the setting deserves its own section. Our basketball court just happens to sit 50 feet away from Spanish ruins. So the backdrop as we play is unreal.

We practice/play every Friday afternoon. Afternoons here, often mean rain. So today, when it began to pour, we rolled under some bushes to serve as our umbrella. However, soon thereafter, everyone started pulling everyone else out into the rain. Our play continued with more water, and more laughter.

Español

2009-09-28T18:37:00.000-07:00

What does “fluent” mean? Does it mean I can send Spanish text messages with ease? Am I fluent if I can bargain at the market? How about if I can share my ideas on health care, the economy, earthquakes, my father, and gay marriage with my Spanish teacher? Does it matter that my verbs aren’t always correctly conjugated? When will I be able to completely follow a Spanish film?

Amongst the Spanish-language students in Antigua, there seems to be little conversation about how we learn language, which is why I’d like to share with you how I got to where I am on the fluency scale.

When I was 10, I was asked if I wanted to take Spanish or French in Middle School. I didn’t know of a monument I’d like to see in Mexico, but I did know the Eiffel Tower meant baguettes and berets. French it was.

I came to regret my 5th grade decision daily in Spanish 1 at UC Berkeley. The summer after Spanish 1, I went to Honduras. For 3 weeks, I took Spanish classes, but was by no means fully immersed in the language, as I spoke English with my language-school friends, and could also do so with my Honduran host family. Thank goodness I continued studying Spanish my last year of college, it has proven to be invaluable in my first weeks here.

My Skype conversations with Mickey and my mom, and my time emailing, are the only moments I speak English. If I need to say something here, I can always express it. It might take me 10 minutes, because I don’t know every word. And I guarantee my verb conjugations are off, but I do know that by the time I stop talking my counterpart has some idea of what the heck I’m saying.

Yesterday, I asked my Spanish teacher (pic of us below) if she thought I could ever be fluent. She responded “Ya eres casi fluente, casi.” Gracias a Dios, I’m close! I think because we have pretty good conversations and because she doesn’t have to teach me the verb “to go,” my teacher Brenda thinks I’m close to being fluent. Some days I agree. But other days, I feel like I’ve got everything wrong.

On Wednesday I had a Spanish exam so I could move on to the second book at my Spanish school. I passed, but going over my mistakes the next day (guess I don’t know how to spell my numbers), made me feel like I need more than a lifetime to ever speak more than one language.

With my first two weeks behind me, I wonder how much more time I’ll need to become an oh-so-cool “fluent Spanish speaker.” I also wonder how others become fluent, and why our experience with language often goes un-talked about.

And I’ve been thinking that no matter how fluent I get, English will always be the language of my family, the language I cry in, and the language I share my love in. And I know I’m lucky to have one of the most important languages in the world, as my first.

I am so in awe of bi/multi-lingual people, and I want to know their stories. I also want to know if I can ever be fluent. Oh, and how bad is my accent? Vamos a ver (we will see).

Nuestros peces. Our fish.

2009-09-19T20:00:00.000-07:00

I got pretty dirty after playing wheelchair basketball yesterday afternoon, especially because the rain turned the court’s dust into mud, and needed a shower. As I walked out of my bathroom, I noticed my host father cleaning out the small family aquarium.

As we were eating dinner, Gabi, the 5-year-old, was counting the fish, and then suddenly screamed, “¡Papi, un pez esta muerto!” (A fish is dead). Flor, my host mom, left the table to check the tank and attempt to calm her daughter. Five seconds later, Flor screamed “¡Gustavo, todos están muertos!” Gustavo and I both left our plates, and quickly saw all the fish limp on their sides.

In cleaning, Gustavo, my host father, didn’t fully rinse the chlorine he had used to clean the tank.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but in thinking about last night’s incident, I can’t help but smile. I so vividly remember the same exact thing happening to my family’s fish when I was young. What makes me grin is not that as we were enjoying our elotes, our little peces weren’t so much enjoying the chlorine, I smile because, some things (even amidst different countries and decades) never change.

¡Estoy aquí!

2009-09-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Shedding goodbye tears through the airport security line made me good and sleepy for my flight to Houston, and then to Guatemala City. A few minutes after I walked out of the aeropuerto, I was met by two Transitions employees. Hugo and Edwin apologized for being late, they explained that the traffic was bad. Traffic at 10pm? As we drove through the airport gates, I understood why – hundreds of people were running through the streets, torches in hand! But before I began panicking, my hosts explained it was the eve of the Día de Independencia. ¡Gracias a Dios!

My first full day in Guatemala just happened to be Independence Day. ¡Que suerte! At 8am, my host mother knocked for breakfast. The moment I opened my door I realized the beauty that is Antigua – a big blue sky, with big white clouds, and what isn’t blue or white is green. Lush mountains, including 3 volcanoes, tower over Antigua. And the city seems to love its greenery. There are more public parks here than in Berkeley, and the majority of houses here have courtyards in the center. My door opens out to an array of tropical potted plants.

With a full stomach from Breakfast, I ventured into town to see the “Bandas de Guerra” (bands of war) my host mom told me about during breakfast. To celebrate independence, there were over 30 high school marching bands parading through Antigua’s small cobblestone streets. To be honest, my attention started to fade after the 12^th band, but the baton girls (with some added Latin flavor) never failed to entertain.

I spent the afternoon playing with my 5-year-old host sister, Gabi, and unpacking. At 4:30, I walked 100 ft. down the street to the Transiciones office, as we had a presentation to make at a nearby café at 5. More about Trancisiones to come.