Greetings from Xela! MRM and I left Antigua at 6am and arrived here around 10am. I got really motion-sick on the way, as we drove through windy mountain roads. But they were all very well paved, which was fantastic. MRM thought she saw a man walking a deer this morning, but we now think it was a very pretty goat. And speaking of goats, tonight is the national futbol championship, in Xela, and Xela (whose team is called the Super Sheep) is playing for the title. We were lucky to find room in the Black Cat Hostel, but not before the grumpy proprietor lectured us on how he doesn´t understand why anyone would want to stay there.
Our final shuttle driver, William, was so kind and helpful. He´d been to Nashville several times and has friends in Knoxville.
Everyone I´ve met at my school has been lovely! It´s across the street from the flower market. Xela is much bigger than I had any idea. And very hilly. I´m overwhelmed and excited, which is pretty much how I´ve felt this whole time.
I will really miss my study buddy and compatriot, MRM, and my tour guides, Henry and Stephen. They left for Lanquin yesterday afternoon and I won´t see them again until August. MRM is coming back to Xela for her birthday in two weeks, and I am determined to be able to have short conversations with her in Spanish.
I had a total freak out moment on the way here. The shuttle driver asked us if we wanted to stop and get some food and use the bathroom and I had no idea what he was saying, and thought, there is no way I can be left alone here.
The past few days in Antigua have been good. After touring the market two days ago, MRM and I happened on a taco shop and she ordered ¨pastor¨tacos for us, thinking it was like ¨pastoral¨and therefore vegetarian. Turns out the meat was really tough, chewy pork. But all the toppings were good, as was the company. Sitting next to us at the counter was Tom, who turned out to be the new in-country director for International Justice Mission, a humanitarian organization I´ve had a tremendous amount of respect for for awhile. Tom was in Antigua learning Spanish, as the person he replaced, a Guatemalan, was moving to the DC office. IJM has international jurisdiction in cases of child abuse, assault, and trafficking as well as handling the myriad social services that rescued kids need.
Last night, MRM and Monica (our sweet, smart Belgium friend from the hostel) and I saw the documentary ¨When the Mountains Tremble¨ which gave a very brief overview of the Guatemalan Civil War, including the roles played by the Guatemalan government, the US Government, United Fruit, and the peasants/campesinos who were getting all uppity and wanting things like running water and a sewage system, and not to starve to death, or be disappeared. It was a good documentary, but it tried to do too much, in the end. Still, I reccommend it.
Will report next week after I meet my homestay family tomorro. MRM and I are going to wander around and get acquainted with this place. Cheers!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
We Might Be Giants
Guatemalans are tiny! Especially Mayans. I can't get used to it. They are small and sturdy, like Hobbits, only beautiful. And while we're making comparisons, this country might as well be the Shire on account of how absolutely lovely it is. I'm not sure what I expected. I think I thought it would be pretty, if I thought about it at all. But I wasn't expecting it to be so gorgeous. The short Guatemalans are accomodated for in public restaurants and the like, where bathroom sinks and dining counters hit below my waist. I'm not used to feeling tall.
Today was the first day where we went somewhere that was mostly non-white. Thus far, the place we are staying, and the restaurants we've been to have been very Western. And as such, you get the impression that a long time ago, a bunch of white people arrived in Antigua and said to themselves, "What a quaint, pretty little place. All it needs is a Starbucks and generic Irish pub." And speaking of said pub, it's where MRM and I headed last night when we were trying to find her brothers. We spent more on 2 beers there than a pitcher costs back at the hostel, but we didn't know where else to look for Henry or Stephen. The pub could have been in Dallas, or Hoboken, or Nashville. While we were there, MRM mentioned that Guatemala has a 70% unemployment rate and when she said that, I feltmy stomach fall a bit, like it does on a carnival ride. I must have looked a little dumbstruck, becuase she followed it with, "Yeah, why do you think so many people wander around and try to sell you cashews and stuff?" Then I started to feel ill. And I wanted to buy truckloads of cashews, knowing full well that it doesn't solve anything long term. I think that might be one of my lessons here. Learning the importance of studying and staying the course so that when I am ready to serve, it will be more profitable in the long run than buying a sack of cashews. Tracy Kidder, who wrote the Dr. Paul Farmer biography, "Mountains Beyond Mountains" once said something along the lines of, "There are two ways to think about the poor, one is to not think about them. And two, when you do think about them, send a check, and then forget about them." Sending checks is really important. I do it each month to four different orgs, but I don't want to only be a check sender.
Earlier in the evening, we had a lovely dinner with MRM's house mother, Margoth, and Robin, another student. We talked about a number of things and I mainly listened and tried to follow along as best I could. When Margoth learned I was studying to become a nurse, she told us of this hospital for the indigenous poor that was founded by a conquistador priest who has since been sainted and whose church we visited the day before. The church has been in operation for 400 years and remains "funded" -- if you can call it that -- 100% by donations, but much of the money is stolen by the government. Then the conversation turned to politics and Margoth mentioned how lucky we are to have Obama as our president because he "is very smart and doesn't kill people."
There is a dog that lives at the hostel, Tiara. She's a goldren retriever who must be about 100 years old. She sleeps all day in the soil that the palm trees are planted in, and in the early mornings, she moves to the chairs before anyone else is awake. I love her. She reminds me of the Martins' old dog, Pokey.
We were at MRM's homestay yesterday afternoon to pick up her computer and we went up to the roof to see if we could pick up a WiFi signal, and to meet Claudio, the rooster, and MRM's alarm clock. The view from the roof is spectacular. It had just rained, and on all sides were mountains shrouded in mist, and cathedrals, and the ruins of older cathedrals. MRM turns to me and says, "If you want to see something really sad, look over the side into the courtyard below." The courtyad below looks like a tiny Calcutta or Sao Paulo, though I have never been to either. It's essentially the town dump, with shacks, and people living in them, trying to cook something decent to eat. It was all very ugly and dirty and sick and sad. And I couldn't stop staring. These are the faces they flash at you on late night informercials so you'll send money to far away places. But the places are never that far away.
After the earthquake in Haiti, Dr. Paul Farmer -- physician, anthropologist, founder of Partners in Health, my hero, and all around greatest human alive -- was talking about the devastation, and the poverty that had made a way for it. He said, "There is no such thing as the 'third world.' There is only one world, and we all live in it."
Today was the first day where we went somewhere that was mostly non-white. Thus far, the place we are staying, and the restaurants we've been to have been very Western. And as such, you get the impression that a long time ago, a bunch of white people arrived in Antigua and said to themselves, "What a quaint, pretty little place. All it needs is a Starbucks and generic Irish pub." And speaking of said pub, it's where MRM and I headed last night when we were trying to find her brothers. We spent more on 2 beers there than a pitcher costs back at the hostel, but we didn't know where else to look for Henry or Stephen. The pub could have been in Dallas, or Hoboken, or Nashville. While we were there, MRM mentioned that Guatemala has a 70% unemployment rate and when she said that, I feltmy stomach fall a bit, like it does on a carnival ride. I must have looked a little dumbstruck, becuase she followed it with, "Yeah, why do you think so many people wander around and try to sell you cashews and stuff?" Then I started to feel ill. And I wanted to buy truckloads of cashews, knowing full well that it doesn't solve anything long term. I think that might be one of my lessons here. Learning the importance of studying and staying the course so that when I am ready to serve, it will be more profitable in the long run than buying a sack of cashews. Tracy Kidder, who wrote the Dr. Paul Farmer biography, "Mountains Beyond Mountains" once said something along the lines of, "There are two ways to think about the poor, one is to not think about them. And two, when you do think about them, send a check, and then forget about them." Sending checks is really important. I do it each month to four different orgs, but I don't want to only be a check sender.
Earlier in the evening, we had a lovely dinner with MRM's house mother, Margoth, and Robin, another student. We talked about a number of things and I mainly listened and tried to follow along as best I could. When Margoth learned I was studying to become a nurse, she told us of this hospital for the indigenous poor that was founded by a conquistador priest who has since been sainted and whose church we visited the day before. The church has been in operation for 400 years and remains "funded" -- if you can call it that -- 100% by donations, but much of the money is stolen by the government. Then the conversation turned to politics and Margoth mentioned how lucky we are to have Obama as our president because he "is very smart and doesn't kill people."
There is a dog that lives at the hostel, Tiara. She's a goldren retriever who must be about 100 years old. She sleeps all day in the soil that the palm trees are planted in, and in the early mornings, she moves to the chairs before anyone else is awake. I love her. She reminds me of the Martins' old dog, Pokey.
We were at MRM's homestay yesterday afternoon to pick up her computer and we went up to the roof to see if we could pick up a WiFi signal, and to meet Claudio, the rooster, and MRM's alarm clock. The view from the roof is spectacular. It had just rained, and on all sides were mountains shrouded in mist, and cathedrals, and the ruins of older cathedrals. MRM turns to me and says, "If you want to see something really sad, look over the side into the courtyard below." The courtyad below looks like a tiny Calcutta or Sao Paulo, though I have never been to either. It's essentially the town dump, with shacks, and people living in them, trying to cook something decent to eat. It was all very ugly and dirty and sick and sad. And I couldn't stop staring. These are the faces they flash at you on late night informercials so you'll send money to far away places. But the places are never that far away.
After the earthquake in Haiti, Dr. Paul Farmer -- physician, anthropologist, founder of Partners in Health, my hero, and all around greatest human alive -- was talking about the devastation, and the poverty that had made a way for it. He said, "There is no such thing as the 'third world.' There is only one world, and we all live in it."
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
From Antigua, with love
I can't find the colon on this keyboard, which is aggravating. Oh well. I also can't figure out shift in order to cap a letter. But we make do.
So, today has been very low key. I woke up, showered, did laundry in the shower, and went back to bed. Getting in bed after a shower is one of my favorite treats in the world, and I usually don't allow myself to do it, but since I am on vacation, I am allowed. Breakfast is included in the cost of our hostel stay, and I have ordered the desayuno tipico both mornings, because there is hardly anything better than scrambled eggs, beans with red sauce and crema, and fried plantains. We waited for MRM to get out of class, and then remained at the hostel to watch a subtitled movie and then headed out to lunch. I was very excited to learn that the cafe served kombucha tea, and then very sad to find out they were out of it. After lunch we split up, MRM and I wandered and window shopped and made plans to head to Cafe Sky to do homework and watch the sunset from the roof, but it began to sprinkle so we headed back towards the center of town and made it into another cafe on the main square in time before it began to pour. Our server reminded me of a short, Latin Lil Wayne, so of course I fell in love with him immediately.
I proudly have kept myself sunburn free so far, except for my toes, which I forgot about, and now they look like red Vienna sausages. Poor toes. Wearing sunscreen is a pain, I think it makes me sweat more, or at least feel a lot stickier than I should me. But I've resigned myself to feeling that way all summer rather than burn up and risk more damage to my already melanin-free skin.
Tonight we are supposedly going to "Mexican Night" at the hostel, which merely means 2 for 1 margaritas. Tomorrow night there is some Cuban music off the central park that we're going to try to catch and on Friday night there is a screening of a documentary on the Guatemalan Civil War. So finally I will learn something about this beautiful place I'm living for the next three months. So far I am still feeling very much the tourist here. It doesn't help that I look exactly like all the other tourists here -- aviators, Chacos, Nalgene, cargo shorts, daypack. I've never stood out so much before -- to my knowledge -- but I don't know what can be done about it.
In the two and a half days I've been here, I've already lost weight. And not from Guatemalan diarrhea! Yet. So that's the good news. The bad news is, some of my clothes are already too big, and I have 13.5 weeks left. Mayhaps I'll invest in a gaudy woven belt.
OK, it's dinner time and we don't know where we're eating yet, so I'll wrap this up. But first, an apology -- there's no spell check on this computer, and I haven't reread this post or the last one, something I swore I would never do. So if there are gross misspellings and grammar errors, I kindly ask your forgiveness.
So, today has been very low key. I woke up, showered, did laundry in the shower, and went back to bed. Getting in bed after a shower is one of my favorite treats in the world, and I usually don't allow myself to do it, but since I am on vacation, I am allowed. Breakfast is included in the cost of our hostel stay, and I have ordered the desayuno tipico both mornings, because there is hardly anything better than scrambled eggs, beans with red sauce and crema, and fried plantains. We waited for MRM to get out of class, and then remained at the hostel to watch a subtitled movie and then headed out to lunch. I was very excited to learn that the cafe served kombucha tea, and then very sad to find out they were out of it. After lunch we split up, MRM and I wandered and window shopped and made plans to head to Cafe Sky to do homework and watch the sunset from the roof, but it began to sprinkle so we headed back towards the center of town and made it into another cafe on the main square in time before it began to pour. Our server reminded me of a short, Latin Lil Wayne, so of course I fell in love with him immediately.
I proudly have kept myself sunburn free so far, except for my toes, which I forgot about, and now they look like red Vienna sausages. Poor toes. Wearing sunscreen is a pain, I think it makes me sweat more, or at least feel a lot stickier than I should me. But I've resigned myself to feeling that way all summer rather than burn up and risk more damage to my already melanin-free skin.
Tonight we are supposedly going to "Mexican Night" at the hostel, which merely means 2 for 1 margaritas. Tomorrow night there is some Cuban music off the central park that we're going to try to catch and on Friday night there is a screening of a documentary on the Guatemalan Civil War. So finally I will learn something about this beautiful place I'm living for the next three months. So far I am still feeling very much the tourist here. It doesn't help that I look exactly like all the other tourists here -- aviators, Chacos, Nalgene, cargo shorts, daypack. I've never stood out so much before -- to my knowledge -- but I don't know what can be done about it.
In the two and a half days I've been here, I've already lost weight. And not from Guatemalan diarrhea! Yet. So that's the good news. The bad news is, some of my clothes are already too big, and I have 13.5 weeks left. Mayhaps I'll invest in a gaudy woven belt.
OK, it's dinner time and we don't know where we're eating yet, so I'll wrap this up. But first, an apology -- there's no spell check on this computer, and I haven't reread this post or the last one, something I swore I would never do. So if there are gross misspellings and grammar errors, I kindly ask your forgiveness.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
First Full Day in Guat!
Greetings! I am writing to you from the McDonald's in Antigua. Don't hate! We've been trekking all afternoon, and were headed to a bookstore/internet cafe called the Rainbow Cafe, when we ran into Robin, who is enrolled in the same school as Miriam, and she said, "You have to check out the garden at McDonald's." So we did, and we got sucked in. Just now, Miriam said, "This is SO weird. All of a sudden, it just hit me." It is weird, that we're hanging at Evil Empire, but Robin was right, the courtyard is GORGEOUS. Seriously, people get married in places this pretty. I don't think we'll make a habit of it, but our legs were tired so we stayed.
The past two days have been wonderful. When I arrived we went straight to Miriam's grandmother's house to pick up her dad and the rest of the stuff. Henry & Stephen were already in Antigua at their favorite hostel, Jungle Party. They reserved a bed for me, so the three of us are there, Dn. Ed and Mrs. Myrna stayed at this lovely little B&B that used to be a government official's house. The roof terrace is incredible. We took some photos up there last night, with the volcano and cathedrals behind us.
Before we arrived in Antigua, we went to the Hogar to meet Mother Ines. I had never met her before, but the Martins have been coming to the orphanage for the past 15 years. We ate lunch with the children and the other volunteers who were there and then toured the chapel and the grounds and the woodshop. Myrna said that Guatemala has been closed for international adoptions for the past two years, so the children there will remain at the orphanage until they age out of it or leave of their own will. It's so lovely and the children were delightful. The woodworking shop was very impressive, they had all kinds of computer guided saws and make really beautiful puzzles, toys, jewelry boxes, etc. The wood used is mainly driftwood that is collected by Mother Ines's parents.
An aside, Coldplay is really popular here. Or rather, Coldplay is really popular at McDonald's and at Jungle Party.
After visiting with Mother Ines, who I am in love with, we left Guatemala City for Antigua. I was dropped off at Jungle Party to check in with the guys, and Miriam was taken to her homestay. She TOTALLY lucked out with her homestay -- she is living in this beautiful home above a bakery and she has a maid. Plus, her house mother is a doll. We sat and talked with her for about a half hour last night, and I was able to keep up with about 1/8 of what was being said. Success!
Today we all met for brunch at a little place called Fernando's that the guys love. Prior to brunch, I had made it all the way out of bed and to the hammock on the patio. Henry and Stephen were both in hammocks, too, and reading novels, and I was beginning to feel very left out. The downside of getting everything I need into one bag, was that I had no room for a fun book. All I have on my are my school books. I was sulking that I had nothing but "Medical Spanish" to read when I chanced upon a beat up copy of Haruki Murakami's "After Dark." I was so excited! I read his "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle" several years ago, and I hated it, and then once it was over, I decided I had actually loved it and I missed reading it.
So, brunch -- Fernando roasts his own coffee and now chocolate. We got chocolate crepes and coffee, and if you're ever here, you'll have to do that too. After brunch, we walked around a bunch. We found this gorgeous hotel called "The House of a Thousand Flowers" and toured it and decided that if our friends the Baumgartners ever come to Guatemala, we'll make them stay there. We also toured some ruins and a cathedral and ran across a Mayan woman doing her laundry in a public pila in a square near the cathedral. This was exciting to see, because it's how I'll be doing my laundry once I'm in Xela.
Dn. Ed and Myrna left this afternoon. The guys are here for another two weeks, but on Thursday they're leaving us in Antigua and heading east to a resort town called Lanquin. I'll stay at Jungle Party until Friday, and then MRM and I will take a bus to Xela, stay in a hostel there for two nights, before I meet my host family on Sunday.
We're really enjoying ourselves here. I've never vacationed anywhere like this -- I'm totally digging being surrounded by a volcano and such gorgeous architecture. OK, MRM's computer battery is beginning to die. I hope all of you are well.
The past two days have been wonderful. When I arrived we went straight to Miriam's grandmother's house to pick up her dad and the rest of the stuff. Henry & Stephen were already in Antigua at their favorite hostel, Jungle Party. They reserved a bed for me, so the three of us are there, Dn. Ed and Mrs. Myrna stayed at this lovely little B&B that used to be a government official's house. The roof terrace is incredible. We took some photos up there last night, with the volcano and cathedrals behind us.
Before we arrived in Antigua, we went to the Hogar to meet Mother Ines. I had never met her before, but the Martins have been coming to the orphanage for the past 15 years. We ate lunch with the children and the other volunteers who were there and then toured the chapel and the grounds and the woodshop. Myrna said that Guatemala has been closed for international adoptions for the past two years, so the children there will remain at the orphanage until they age out of it or leave of their own will. It's so lovely and the children were delightful. The woodworking shop was very impressive, they had all kinds of computer guided saws and make really beautiful puzzles, toys, jewelry boxes, etc. The wood used is mainly driftwood that is collected by Mother Ines's parents.
An aside, Coldplay is really popular here. Or rather, Coldplay is really popular at McDonald's and at Jungle Party.
After visiting with Mother Ines, who I am in love with, we left Guatemala City for Antigua. I was dropped off at Jungle Party to check in with the guys, and Miriam was taken to her homestay. She TOTALLY lucked out with her homestay -- she is living in this beautiful home above a bakery and she has a maid. Plus, her house mother is a doll. We sat and talked with her for about a half hour last night, and I was able to keep up with about 1/8 of what was being said. Success!
Today we all met for brunch at a little place called Fernando's that the guys love. Prior to brunch, I had made it all the way out of bed and to the hammock on the patio. Henry and Stephen were both in hammocks, too, and reading novels, and I was beginning to feel very left out. The downside of getting everything I need into one bag, was that I had no room for a fun book. All I have on my are my school books. I was sulking that I had nothing but "Medical Spanish" to read when I chanced upon a beat up copy of Haruki Murakami's "After Dark." I was so excited! I read his "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle" several years ago, and I hated it, and then once it was over, I decided I had actually loved it and I missed reading it.
So, brunch -- Fernando roasts his own coffee and now chocolate. We got chocolate crepes and coffee, and if you're ever here, you'll have to do that too. After brunch, we walked around a bunch. We found this gorgeous hotel called "The House of a Thousand Flowers" and toured it and decided that if our friends the Baumgartners ever come to Guatemala, we'll make them stay there. We also toured some ruins and a cathedral and ran across a Mayan woman doing her laundry in a public pila in a square near the cathedral. This was exciting to see, because it's how I'll be doing my laundry once I'm in Xela.
Dn. Ed and Myrna left this afternoon. The guys are here for another two weeks, but on Thursday they're leaving us in Antigua and heading east to a resort town called Lanquin. I'll stay at Jungle Party until Friday, and then MRM and I will take a bus to Xela, stay in a hostel there for two nights, before I meet my host family on Sunday.
We're really enjoying ourselves here. I've never vacationed anywhere like this -- I'm totally digging being surrounded by a volcano and such gorgeous architecture. OK, MRM's computer battery is beginning to die. I hope all of you are well.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Arrived!
I made it, my bag made it, and I'm in Guatemala City heading to the orphanage our church helps support. Then we're all going to Antigua for the night. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Adios!
T-minus four hours until I leave for the airport, and I have just finished rearranging my gear for the last time. Trying to pack for a 14 week trip has really served to highlight exactly how materialistic I am.
In fact, I turned into a total hoarder.
Thankfully, my friend Jan helped me with some perspective last night. I had, among other things, several Dopp kits CRAMMED full of toiletries that I don't even use. She kept asking me what I was bringing them along for, and my stock answer was, "In case..." In case what? An emergency arises that calls for 12 sample size Neutrogena face washes? This went on for a while and it was, frankly, embarrassing to realize how much junk I believed I needed. Where does it come from? This compulsion to bring so much crap with me that I haven't used once all year long. I can live without witch hazel. I do it every day.
But now we've pared it all down to the contents of a carry on and a daypack.
And this is nothing short of miraculous for me, the person who can't leave the house without an adult version of a diaper bag so that I will never be without something I might need. Several years ago my sister Laura and I went to Las Vegas for her 21st birthday party. We weren't even going to be there 72 hours, and still managed the fill the ENTIRE back of her Xterra with bags, sacks, suitcases, backpacks, pillows, etc. Our luggage trolley at the Hard Rock was almost too heavy to maneuver. So the fact that I am living for 3.5 months out of a carry on bag, and that I've had to pack for: beaches, volcanoes, rainy season, sunny weather, cold weather, hiking gear, clinic clothes, plus all the books I need for Spanish and Medical Spanish, is kind of totally amazing. But it didn't come easy. I've spent the last 4 days wondering what I've needed, buying what I think I'll need, getting home, reevaluating, packing, unpacking, repacking, making returns, buying more stuff and on and on and on. When what I should have done was pack a few outfits and some cash and bought what I needed when I got there.
But enough about packing. It's done.
The last time I was out of the country was the summer of 2003, which I spent in Prague, completing my Bachelor's degree. Once we'd been accepted into the Prague program, we were required to read 6 books off a reading list about Prague's history and culture, keep a journal of our reading, and write an essay about each choice. I was a little put out initially, but it turned out to be an incredibly wonderful opportunity to learn more about a place that's intrigued me for as long as I can remember. So when I arrived in Prague, I felt acquainted to the city in a way I never would have otherwise, and I loved that. And I am really regretting not having that same feeling going into this trip. I feel unprepared, intellectually and emotionally. Happily, I will have Miriam to answer my questions, but I feel like I haven't done my homework, which is one of the worst possible ways to feel in my little obsessive compulsive personality disorder universe. I purchased some of Rene Castillo Otto's poetry collections and I read a lovely novel called Hummingbird House, but I still feel really green about Guatemala and Guatemalans.
Regardless, I am happy-anxious and ready for the summer to begin. I've been slogging through school and working more hours than I should have and saving saving saving my money for months and I'm ready for it to begin.
Also, I am really excited about the school I am going to! It's named after Guatemalan Nobel-prize winning poet, Miguel Angel Asturias, and it's one of the most highly recommended schools specializing in Medical Spanish. I feel like both sides of me, the one who has a Bachelor's in Literature and Anthropology and the one who is currently in nursing school will feel at home there and that makes me very happy.
And if I may be so bold, I feel a little like Harry Potter right now. I'm setting off on an adventure, going to live in a town I never knew existed until just recently, in a place where they speak a language I don't know. And while Platform Nine and Three Quarters is a much cooler way to begin a journey than Nashville International Airport, I have a suspicion that The Land of Eternal Spring might be just as lovely a place to be as Hogwarts.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Shower the City You Love with Love
It's almost 3am, and I leave for Guatemala in 27 hours. Nursing III finals wrapped up on Thursday, and since then, I have been dashing about trying to get ready to leave for the longest trip I've ever taken.
Meanwhile, Nashville is recovering from a 100 or 500 or 1000 year flood.
In the days following Katrina, like so many others, I got to work volunteering in any way I could. And that's when I found out from the Red Cross that the people who were being deployed to the Gulf had all kinds of fancy disaster training. I thought, I wanna be ready next time. So I signed up for the training and in the months that followed became a member of the Red Cross's national Disaster Services Human Resources team and the local Disaster Action Team. In the 5 years since Katrina, I've been asked to activate, but have never been able to secure the time off work in order to deploy.
And then the flood happened in the city I love. The city that's been home to me for as long as I can remember. And I have the fancy training now, and the kickass disaster vest. And I'm leaving.
I've spent the past several days on the verge of tears. It takes hardly anything to set me off. I know I'm exhausted from the end of the semester and am fried from trying to get out of town. But I'm also aching at how much was lost here, and I'm sad that so much remains to be done and I will not be here to do it.
It sounds a little arrogant to say that. But my saying that has nothing to do with any kind of confidence in my own ability. Rather, it comes from the confidence I have in the people I know. The ones who have slept very little since the storm and who will continue their tireless work until it is finished. I want to spend the summer beside these people, giving my time to the place that I love.
I'm trying to remind myself that there is work to be done all over the world, and I am privileged to be able to give of my time in Central America this summer. But a part of me still feels guilty and indulgent, leaving now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
