Thank you

A small child
arms swinging
by her sides,
like windshield
wipers on a
rainy day
wipes away air
to make space

Space for her
slight figure
and that of her
baby doll on her
spirited back—face
white as a corn
tortilla just patted
into shape
before it turns
dark above the
flames that cook
it steadily from
underneath

Tears dampen
her mother’s brown
cheeks when she
realizes our
eventual departure
She believes that her
economic stability is
tucked away
in foreign bank
accounts. She doesn’t
own the key
to her own future

Her uncle’s eyes are
alert and knowing. He
sits on a hand-crafted
wooden and bamboo
box-stool and talks
about reforestation
creando consciencia
about plastic and
grey water systems
and questions the
lack of regulations
for companies that
ship their products
over in brightly
colored packaging
which later dot
the landscapes
with colors and particles
this land has never
welcomed. No home for
waste—make-shift
trash dumps—basureros 
clandestinos are the
only place that take on
the heavy human hand

The child introduces
me to the kitten Tomy
He is small and black
and has a brown patch
on his throat
He meows as the
child’s mother prepares
lunch en cantidades
He was placed
in the kitchen to
hunt mice but maybe
Tomy is a bit
out of place in his
new home full of
food he cannot
rightly partake in
and lacking the
mice he can.
He is underfoot
in the kitchen
like a shadow—
his presence and
his meowing
reminders of his
constant “thereness.”
(Muj is shadow in
Tzutuhil.) “Tomy Muj,”
I say giggling to the girl
“Muj, Muj, Muj,”
her mother
chants and smiles
Sharing upturned lips
like life-long friends.

 

It’s the last day on the summer course. It’s so interesting to hear about what people say of you and what kind of presence you bring to the table. I think even in my 30s it’s hard to come to terms with or just settle comfortably into the person you are.  I guess sometimes I feel like I’d much rather be on the seat of my chair—smart and talkative and always knowing what to say and/or do in any given situation. At the end of the day, I think what it comes down to is being cool with your inner spirit and self. Maybe what I needed to practice and have highlighted this time around was my spirit of kindness, coolness, and grounded energy. I am so thankful for an amazing Instructor team and group of teenagers ready to learn and grow. Los quiero mucho y he aprendido un montón de ustedes.

 

We have journeyed
into a history
as dark as
the depths of Lake
Atitlán—el más profundo
de las Américas
The depths have
felt overwhelming but
necessary as the reminder
of the pain that lives
in each of our bloodlines
the bones that hold us
up like a ladder
are dense with the
memories of time
and are buried
in the soil we
occupy with strong
and reaching raíces.

Roots we need to
continue to explore
in all directions.

We have ventured
into the verdant lands
of Guatemala—land of trees
and like the Lorax
we must be careful
of the greed and power
that run like currents
of flames in our
nation’s veins
We must tell the story
of deforestation, of
pollution, of dwindling
natural resources before
it’s too late
We must plant the seed
that will revive the
forests and inspire
the birds of the
trees to keep on singing
We must care
and maintain the
precious seedlings
of our siembra and
never give up.

You are the seeds
of the trees that
will grow into
grandes problemáticas
or soluciones transformativas.
We want to sew
the fruits of our
labor of love
During our adventure
the garden of love
has been planted
let’s see what it’s
beauty holds and who
will hold it up to
the light that
illumines dialogue
and understanding,
patience and tolerance,
caring and challenge.
Raíces profundas y duraderas.

 

This is a note for the families and friends that have journeyed with us, albeit from afar (and especially to the parents). We would like to thank you for lending us what is most precious to you so that your son or daughter could learn what the stories of the land of Guatemala had to teach them. From the people that inhabit this remarkable corner of the world, rincón del mundo, and the numerous native languages, struggles, hopes and injustices that each student experienced first-hand. The story of Guatemala is one of conquest, of bitter memories, and difficult realities that cannot be swallowed whole, sino poco a poco. In its same right, Guatemala is a land of a people that inspire. They are resilient to the constant change in tide.

Thank you for planting the seed within your child that gave them the openness, desire, and grit to keep on learning and to begin to grow roots of difference and change against corruption and injustice and the destruction of the Earth. Keep watering them and we hope they will grow into that aguacatillo we learned about at Chico Mendes. Thank you, thank you, thank you.