desde San Andrés

Bueno, the days are nonstop wonder. One description of this job would be comfortability with chaos... we just never quite know what may pop up. Fortunately, my co-leader, Nico (in pic above) is an insightful and grounded teammate to dialogue out solutions along the way...

We´re in the second ´chapter´of our Central American journey. The first week was reforestation and lots of play at the elementary school, with afternoons for sewing, cooking, trips to the ´city´... one of the most impactful afternoons was when my host mother granted my wish of meeting a well-known human rights worker, Salvador Cutzál. A gracious yet clearly overburdened soul, Salvador lost 17 of his family members in the civil war here. Once a priest, he continues to struggle on behalf of indigenous Guatemalans who continue to suffer from discrimination. He assures me this is sadly very unchanged. Now indigenous are exploited to join the narcotraffic industry. But, as he told me, he´s has a proposal rather than a protest in his current mission, which is a school for local children to return to their Mayan ancestral roots and learn the language of the natural world. I left humbled and honored...

Now we´re in one of the most gorgeous towns I´ve ever experienced. San Andrés is on Lago Peten-itza in the Mayan biosphere. Before swimming in its inviting waters, I heard from my wise and weathered host father about the legend of the stone horse from back during the time of Cortés´arrival. Today I took an infirmed student to visit a traditional healer before meeting up with the rest of the crew to clean up a nearby beach that will be heavily trafficked during Carnaval weekend coming up. While the students are in Spanish classes, I take care of business little by little. Tonight we celebrate Nico´s birthday at a humble restaurant which hangs above the lake... and with a cake I ordered this afternoon from a woman while she chatted to me out of her house window. Sent to her from a random passerby on the street, turns out the baker is one of my host mother´s seven sisters.

Like a storybook, the sweet breeze inhales and exhales me along this butterfly existence. Time to pick up the cake...

Be well, my friends.