In Guatemala with Cooperative for Education

Story links

2009-04-19T15:19:00.002-06:00

I've had four stories published about participants from Guatemala trip.

Aiken woman helps with education efforts in Guatemala

Voluntourists give to Guatemala

Voluntourists see sites, deliver books

Madison Place man spends vacation volunteering in Guatemala

Antigua is a respite after a week of hard work

2009-02-21T16:18:00.000-06:00

This week was hard work, but it was incredibly rewarding. We arrived in Antigua and immediately began exploring. Guatemala's colonial capital is incredibly well-preserved. It's gorgeous!

San Bernadino School

2009-02-20T21:23:00.000-06:00

The last school we visited. The kindergarteners sang for us while their teacher played guitar. After the ceremony, the kids played in the schoolyard with us. These were the cutest kids!

Dancing, hot springs and avocados!

2009-02-17T22:06:00.000-06:00

Today's run was to the top of a neighboring hill, where we could see the entire valley of Huehuetenango. The steep hills were a bit too much of a challenge for me. I hiked rather than run.

The view was worth it. After a 7:15 breakfast, it was off to Agua Calientes hot springs for a swim and the ceremony. We had to drive right past the school to reach the hot springs, so we stopped to say hello. Pine needles were already spread out to welcome us, and the children in primary school greeted us warmly. A marimba band serenaded us, and, after some quick hellos, we set off for the hot springs, bag lunches in hand. The hot springs, which were just down the road from the school, were a few pools and a picnic area, with a changing area and some loos. The students followed us to the hot springs with their teachers. Watching gringos lunch and sunbathe was their noontime activity. It was a bit strange--I felt a little conspicuous. I'm incredibly pale, and the students were clearly not used to seeing someone who looks like me. (I get that reaction on beaches around the world. I'm practically glowing. We spent some time in the warm and cool pools. The hot was a bit too hot for much more than dangling feet, and on an 80-degree afternoon, the water was refreshing. By 1 we were back at the school.

All 24 students in grades 7-9 were awaiting us.

A gaggle of preschoolers, their faces and scalps full of glitter and confetti, saw my camera and insisted on sitting with me. They kept inching closer and closer, as in a game of red light, green light. They little girls would scurry closer, and when I'd turn around and grin at them, they'd freeze. Soon two little ones were at each elbow and another one was on my lap. They were about the same age as my little sister, Bella.

The older students entertained us with dances and skits, and the last class called a few of us from the audience to the stage. I danced with a boy of about 14 in a foot-shuffling waltz that thankfully required little coordination on my part.

After a never-ending song--it was blazingly hot, even under a tent--we returned to our seats. Our respite was short lived. The town's Don Juan asked me for a dance, and I certainly couldn't refuse him. His compadre asked Catherine to dance, and we soon found ourselves on stage again. After another 10 minutes of dancing, we finally got to start playing and chatting with the kids.

I'd made some copies of some random family photos, then wrote Spanish phrases on the back of them. The students and their parents loved seeing them--especially the snow. Then one young mother asked me a question. I thought she wanted me to take a photo of her. No--she wanted one of my photos, and she wasn't the only one.

The mom who wanted one of my photos. What a cute baby!

About a dozen photos of me, my boyfriend, my family and Cincinnati are floating around the town of Agua Calientes. In a village far off the beaten path, in a place where four-wheel drive is compulsory and there's no paved road for miles, my Gramma Penelope's photo is hanging up somewhere!

We went to a small town called Colotenango, and after a quick bathroom break, we strolled through the market. I love shopping for vegetables, but it was not possible during this trip as all our meals were provided. However, knowing my adoration of avocados, my new friend Ivan--our photographer--bought me five for 1 quetzal.

Day One of Book Deliveries!

2009-02-16T18:58:00.001-06:00

Running went well. I kept a good steady pace for the more than two miles, though I walked part of the way back because my knees were freezing--we jumped in Lago de Atitlan.

The sun rose as we swam through the lake. The morning was clear, and the water--while cold--was calm and as smooth as glass.

We set out after a hearty breakfast--an omelet con vegetales, frijoles negros, queso fresco, fruta y tortillas. Running has helped me work up quite the appetite!

The drive from the lake to Xela (Quetzaltenango) was beautiful! We stopped at a textile museum where a cooperative of women are working to preserve Mayan traditional dress.

After a box lunch, we headed to our schools. We went to La Candalaria School, the largest in the program this year. More than 800 students greeted us. Crammed shoulder to shoulder in their gymnasium, the students applauded enthusiastically as we entered. My eyes welled up fro, the sheer magnitude of the event and the thunderous applause.

After the ceremony, we got a tour of the school. The students are 50 to a classroom, and the walls are sparse and often bare. There was no toilet tissue or soap in the bathrooms. The teachers had little more than a stubby piece of chalk and a blackboard. The students wore new gym uniforms over their dress clothes--black pants and white shirts for the boys and huipils and cortes for the girls.

The students were so enthusiastic. After the ceremony, we had time to interview some of the students. Their quotes were priceless--the kinds of statements you can't make up but are so perfectly fitting. One boy, Lesvin, told me he was happy that they would no longer waste so much time in class because they would now have books.

Education is power

2009-02-15T20:46:00.000-06:00

domingo 15 febrero 09

Today we took a boat from "Pana" to Santiago for shopping, a tour of the town square and a visit with some scholarship students. The sky was hazy, obscu

ring the view of the volcanos surrounding the lake.

Two young girls were on board to peddle their homemade crafts during the 45-minute ride. At first, having been instructed to let us come to them, they hung back and timidly watched us as we mingled and got to know one another. Dressed in the traditional Mayan clothing that they also sold, they were striking: clear mocha skin, thick jet black hair with eyes to match.

I bargained with them to buy a black velvet purse embroidered with multicolored flowers and trimmed with fringe. They allowed me to test my weak Spanish, and I asked if I could take a photo. They eagerly said yes. I kept chatting with them in my broken but enthusiastic Spanish (a French degree really hasn't come in handy very often!).

Estella (above left) is 17, I learned; Lelila is 15. The elder wanted to live in the States. She wanted help, a friend who could help her get there and get started. I gave her my email address, thought at first I felt odd about the situation. I hope they'll write. (They didn't.)

The children are amazing--especially the scholarship kids--Maria, Juan, Jose and Petrolina. It costs almost $3,000 to send them to school--a significant amount here. They've inspired me and exhausted me. I felt an overwhelming sense of compassion. These kids work so hard--and they've got little to show for it. Their father, Nicholas, is a brick layer. He's a kind man who wants the best for his children. He only had two years of school because his parents couldn't afford to send him. They needed him to work. He wants better for his kids, he says

Casey and Kathy with Maria and her siblings

Maria's father, Nicholas, is in the back right

Their home in Santiago de Atitlan. We were warmly received!

Maria's 6-year-old sister, Petrolina. I have a 6-year-old sister, too. Petrolina is so adorable, a real cuddle bug!

Being here has allowed me to revisit memories of Korea--the teaching and societal observations. There, parents spend massive amounts of money to educate their children. Here, the parents do the same, in a less ostentatious and more desperate way. Parents in Korea want their children to have the best education so they can continue to be the best--for their family and their country. The best scores, the best schools, the best colleges. Harvard or bust. Here, parents want better for their children in a realistic, proportional way. They want books for their children, they want a good job, a life outside of poverty.

The power of the pen

2009-02-15T15:58:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow we start the book delivery tour. One delegated task is handing out pens and pencils. The students each get a pen and a pencil; parents get a pen and young siblings get a pencil. They'll line up to get one. That a sibling object--cast off and often forgotten, lost or deliberately thrown away in prosperous countries--would be worth waiting for and would draw a crowd is slightly unbelievable.

Panajachel, in Lago de Atitlan

2009-02-14T16:33:00.004-06:00

Lago de Atitlan does not disappoint. (Happy Valentine's Day! I'm spending it in Guatemala this year!) A friend of mine has been traveling the world since we both taught English in South Korea back in 2005. She's visited almost every continent, and she's quite an adventurous traveler. She was in Guatemala in 2007 and told me it left quite an impression. "Lake Atitlan is one of the most beautiful places on Earth," she said. Coming from someone whose passport is bursting with stamps from some very beautiful and exotic places, this meant something.

Today, I'm sitting on the beach in Panajachel, a hippie haven in the Highlands of Guatemala. It's a real tourist destination, but it doesn't feel cheesy or inauthentic. Everyone is incredibly relaxed and laidback. I wouldn't call it welcoming because I think cities that feel too welcoming feel insincere, but it feels comfortable and open. Everyone is to relaxed to be welcoming.

I wandered through the town with my roommate, and I used my limited Spanish to bargain for some interesting textiles and trinkets for my friends and family. Handicrafts are everywhere. I've gotten change purses, scarves, woven cloths, a wraparound skirt, some beaded bracelets and a few other goodies today for about $100 US (maybe 800 Quetzales). Today I learned a quick trick to tell whether something is handmade: Smell it. Rural Guatemalans cook over an open wood fire, and handmade corn tortillas are a staple. The two leave a comforting and familiar smell in everything. (Day after I return home, I pull a sweat shirt from my still-not-unpacked suitcase and breathe deeply. That corn-and-campfire scent lingers, and I'm nostalgic.)

Here in Panajachel, there's another smell in the mix: flowers. Lavender boulainvillea are abundant, and other flowers, whose names I admit I don't know, are everywhere, and their scent is heavy, especially in the morning and at sunset. Guatemala, my Lonely Planet guidebook tells me, boasts 550 species of orchids, 1/3 of them endemic to Guatemala.

This country reminds me of Korea, where I spent 2005 teaching English. Guatemala, like South Korea, is a mix of old and new, prosperity and poverty, modernity and tradition.

Bienvenido!

2009-02-01T16:08:00.000-06:00

Bienvenido! Welcome to my CoedGuatemala.blogspot.com, a travel blog about the nonprofit Cooperative for Education and the work they do in Guatemala. In February 2009, I spent 10 days in Guatemala on one of CoEd's Book Delivery Tours.

Why Guatemala? Why me? Why CoEd?

In a past life, I was a newspaper reporter at The Cincinnati Enquirer. There, I was a careers columnist for a time, and my weekly series, life@work, featured people who loved their work, which is how I met Joe and Jeff Berninger, the two brothers who co-founded CoEd back in 1996. Their story is an amazing one, but it's one that I've already told. Read it here.

This blog fast-forwards 13 years from the conception of CoEd. It's about what happened after those ambitious and altruistic young men left corporate America for a lifelong mission of breaking the cycle of poverty in Guatemala through education.

That's no easy feat, but thankfully the Berningers were born into a can-do family. Their own parents were teachers turned hobby farmers who dreamt of a sustainable life on their own patch of paradise in southeastern Indiana. The family's land became the first cut-your-own Christmas tree farms in the Cincinnati tristate area more than 20 years ago. Christmas trees paid for their educations and instilled in all three Berninger boys that anything can be done, if you put your mind to it.

Still, their calling presents more than its share of challenges. Guatemala, a country about the size of Ohio, has the second lowest literacy rate in the Western Hemisphere, behind Haiti.

In this country of 14.5 million, a stark dichotomy is omnipresent: volcano-ringed lakes, lush green jungle, and breathtaking mountain views hide the prevalent poverty, illiteracy and lack of opportunities for the majority of Guatemalans. Outside of the capital, most women have two years of education; men have just three.

CoEd offered a glimpse into Guatemalan life and culture. Rather than pity or fear, I left with an overwhelming sense of love and compassion that has stayed with me. The statistics in Guatemala tell one story; I hope to tell another.

I think of the never-ending hugs from the children at the schools we visited, the thick blankets of fragrant pine needles spread for us at each school, and the generous hand-made gifts the students and their parents brought us. A great number of nonprofits operating in developing nations fall into the "give a man a fish" genre; CoEd, with its sustainable textbook, computer lab and literacy programs, is in the much smaller, "teach a man to fish" category.

Please join me as I record this amazing story, about my trip with CoEd, the natural beauty of Guatemala and more importantly, the people, both American and Guatemalan, who helped to make the journey one worth retelling.