Day One

From September 29 to October 6, 2012, my husband and I had the privilege of taking part in a mission trip with Port City Community Church (our old church in Wilmington, NC). Several times a year, Port City takes groups of 10-15 people down to the mountains of Guatemala to work with an international organization called Pray America, known in Central America as "Manos de Jesus" (Jesus's Hands). Pray America's mission is centered around James 1:27 in the Bible, which commands us to take care of orphans and widows and to keep ourselves from being corrupted by a crooked world.

During our week in Guatemala, we helped feed hundreds of children, built four houses for widows, assembled ten much-needed stoves in homes that were relying on open flames for cooking, and distributed ten water filters.  But that wasn't the coolest part.  The coolest part was immersing ourselves in a culture we hadn't even heard of just a few months before, and meeting some of the most incredible individuals we've ever encountered.  For those who supported us financially, thank you from the bottom of our hearts for making this possible.  For those who prayed for us...it worked.  We thank you sincerely.

Our experience was life-changing.  Dustin and I had never traveled outside the U.S. for any reason other than studying abroad or vacationing. This year, we skipped the resort and tried something new, at the prompting of what some call a "gut feeling" and others call the Holy Spirit.  And boy, was it worth it. Read on to experience the adventure through our eyes, as taken directly from the journal I kept each day while we were there, along with Dustin's perspective through his photography. Who knows...maybe you'll get the itch to hop on a plane yourself....


Saturday, September 29, 2012

We're in Guatemala!!!!! It's 8:30 p.m. local time, which means it feels like 10:30 p.m. to us. We got up at four this morning, so we're exhausted. It took most of the day to travel--from our 5 a.m. meeting time at ILM to arriving at our house in Chichicastenango right around 5 p.m.

This country is absolutely gorgeous. There are mountains everywhere, and even a few volcanoes. There are pointsettia plants in the courtyard of the house that are ten feet tall and all kinds of other brightly colored exotic flowers.

Dustin and I have a large room on the first floor. He is conked out next to me while I write in relative darkness.

Our ride through the mountains to Chichi was full of spectacles: a man on stilts dressed up like a bird; people hanging off the sides of "chicken buses" as they sped down the highway; five-year-olds toddling along unsupervised next to the busy streets; Wal-Mart and Burger King; people sleeping in the grass a few feet from the road; security guards armed with shotguns outside markets and restaurants; fires burning in front of houses of worship; strip clubs and prostitutes; a man peeing in public; a man failing to control his leashed cow in the middle of the road; a tractor trailer dangling from the side of a mountain after missing a steep curve (which caused our fearless driver to pop the median and drive into oncoming traffic while navigating the aforementioned steep curve); mangy, emaciated stray dogs; shacks for houses; people everywhere.

It was visually overwhelming.

The house where we're staying isn't anything like what I pictured.  It's smack in the middle of Chichi--a large, two story house protected by a two-toned, green wall with a gate in the middle. Inside the gate is the main house as well as two smaller buildings for missionaries and guests, with a beautiful little courtyard at the center.

There are three adorable ladies who work here and cook for us. Gloria, Manuela, and ___________.

******

(continued the next morning)

Juanita.  The youngest one's name is Juanita. I couldn't think of her name last night, and Dustin wanted to turn the light out and go to sleep, so I stopped writing.

I'm outside in the courtyard, and the sounds of this town are pretty incredible. In the last five minutes, I've heard the town clock strike 6 a.m., the cannon, some fireworks, and I've heard from the rooster next door at least three times. I'm gonna kill that rooster.  It started crowing at 4 a.m. The thing clearly doesn't know when sunrise is, because the sun is up now and it's still going at it.

I just ate a plantain and chocolate thing and I've got a cup of amazing coffee. You know it's great coffee when it tastes good with instant creamer.

We are walled in on all four sides, so the house feels pretty safe even though we're right in the middle of town.  I can hear the market bustling out front, and I can't wait to go check it out. We still have to exchange our money. We brought $200, and I think it's going to go a long way here. The exchange rate is about 1.7 or 1.8, and it's in our favor. The local currency is called a quetzal, or Q for short.

The team is starting to gather outside with me now, so I'll wrap this up. We're hiking down to the river in a few minutes.

Lord, open my eyes to this place. Let me see the people the way You do. Amen.