Yalla. Vamos. An early morning call to the bus and we are on our way. We even did sacred space on the bus. A lovely niggun featuring V’ahavta that Faith Joy wrote in memory of her sister and the powerful words of Abraham Joshua Heschel which David selected from Heschel’s speech Religion and Race. Words popped out relevant to our work here in Guatemala and also as the anniversary of Ferguson as it approaches. So our day began living out the V’ahavta as we discussed these very words on our way. Then Faith Joy continued our tradition of reading the daily journal.
The bus began to climb as we were leaving Guatemala City. Some of us spotted a large Israeli flag next to the Guatemalan flag. Meghan thought perhaps it was a joint development project. I thought it might be a sports complex.
The long bus ride gave us the opportunity to study about human rights development in chevruta. As was pointed out, the work we and AJWS are doing is incredibly complex. The more tools they can give us the better ambassadors we can be.
We stopped about an hour up the mountain for bathrooms. But the magical part was chocolate and pie. Margaret and Elliot tried theirs with rum which Leilach and Ruth both enjoyed sips. And we know who are shoppers are! 10 minutes and several came back with more treasures. The history of the place we stopped was fascinating. This was a highly contested parcel of land during the war and many time trees were cut down to block the road. As Rambo tells it the original owner was assassinated in front of the restaurant during the war by the guerrillas for his neutrality. His widow re-openned it. It is now a social project of the community and that shop in front is run by the women of the community and they don’t pay rent.
The long bus ride gave Rambo a chance to tell his story of self. He was born in Antigua but registered in Guatemala City which also says a lot about the complexity of this country. At two his parents moved to Hong Kong. His father was a career military man and then a diplomat. His parents divorced. His mother remarried a Chinese man she met in the grocery line in Guatemala City. Rambo’s step father was a chef and they moved to Canada where he worked in a hotel eventually buying it. Rambo always worked at that hotel. At fourteen he told his mother he was going to be a soldier. His mother said “hell no”. So he stole $500 and hitchhiked back to Guatemala arriving at his father’s just before Christmas. His father also said “hell no you can’t become a soldier.” So with the help of his cousins he got into the military academy and did not speak to his father until the day of graduation. His father was not happy and even though Rambo was not obligated he entered the army and “was a man”. He felt he was fighting against communism and socialism. At least that is what he was told. Times were hard. 1983 in Quiche was really bloody. Rambo told us that Rigoberta Menchu wants to put the whole military on trial. His personal opinion is that if the military is going to be put on trial both sides need to be tried. Both sides participated in the killing and the disappearances. Recently he was giving a tour and someone kept pointing at him. He worried he had done something to offend, so he approached. Do I know you? No, but I know you. On March 15 1984 you were ambushed and lost seventeen men. I shot you. Now bring me some gringos to buy something. Rambo confirms that he was shot. That he spent 27 days in a coma. But what he learned from the man who shot him who he now describes as his friend is that may be it is time to forgive and forget or at least move on. Today he is not sure which side he would take. He knows his country needs tremendous help but he doesn’t like the approach of many groups. “I don’t want to be rescued. I want to work for it all. We need sustainable projects.”
A fascinating discussion ensued about Guatemalans taking care of their own supporting these grassroot initiatives we have been visiting. It doesn’t seem to happen much. The recent wave of immigration to the US seems to be driven by fear of drugs and gangs. Perhaps the US’s best strategy would be to invest more in education so people want to stay.
We drove by several buses for one presidential candidate prompting a frank discussion of the upcoming election. “I know there is corruption. I don’t like any of them. It is not fair that some need to serve in the army and others only need to serve in the reserves on Sunday. Military service should be compulsory for all. Both leading parties have ties to drug cartels. Because there are only 4 year terms candidates promise the world and then cant deliver. One candidate promised an extra pay. Instead of 14 per year, he was promising 15.
He explained his connection to Israel. Trained by their special forces and military intelligence. And he runs tours for Israelis. He likes their desire to always see more and their desire to see nature. And so sometimes the bus conversation is peppered with Hebrew.
As we drove into the town Quetzeltenango, we drove past the memorial for those who had left Guatemala for the US and send money back to their families. They are regarded as the heroes.
We drove up a very narrow road. Kudos to Gatto our skilled bus driver for navigating that! We had a delightful lunch of asparagus soup and fish. But not before having ten minutes to shop. The same shoppers came back with more treasures. And even more treasurers from the woman in the lobby hawking her hand made goods. But we wonder how we are perceived. Just as Americans with shekels to spend? Is this another example of white privilege? Do these shopkeepers and hawkers ever get to leave their communities? To travel to someplace else as we are doing? Do they have access to health care? To education? Do they want it? As we walked back to the restaurant i heard the strands of Simon and Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence. And i wondered. Are we committing the sin of silence?
However the real highlight of the day came when we went to Codecut, an association of midwives that provide training, services and advocacy. Part of what American Jewish World Service is doing is helping them to do capacity planning. It is clear that AJWS is proud of this organizations accomplishments and we received a warm welcome. Audacious hospitality. Nancy did the introduction and reminded us of Shifrah and Puah, the two midwives in the book of Exodus who enabled Moses to be born and for the Jewish people to survive. While the story was not familiar to these Mayan women I watched as Maria Cecelia beamed. Her face just lit up with joy and appreciation at the parallels. We had a ceremony to open the program lighting colorful candles symbolizing sun, rest, the energy of water, purity, transparency, air, sky and the natural world. We watched a video abbot Narcissa Garcia who delivered her first baby at 16. Sitting in the large circle each of us had an opportunity to ask questions.
We learned the importance of their advocacy work gaining access to hospitals. And as Ruth pointed out it seems to have become second nature to them. Because of the grants from American Jewish World Service the advocacy is paying off and they are even discuss the stories of just two years ago in very different terms.
But the most meaningful part was the small groups. In mine, we asked about when they have to take mothers to the hospital. For a recent c-section, breach, pre-clempsia, severe malnutrition of the mother or if after 6-8 hours nothing is happening. One of the midwives told the story about a birth where the baby would drop down and raise back up. It turned out it was a shortened umbilical chord. That one had to go to the hospital. They do do family planning, especially after the third or fourth birth. And most fathers attend the birth. They suggest it. The fathers should to show their commitment and to share in the pain.
We asked about the training. Most of them have mothers or grandmothers who were midwives. They hope their daughters will be delivered by midwives and that they themselves become midwives. But here was the shocker. In this two year training program they have had four men. One even told us that her grandfather was a midwife. We were also surprised to learn that the fall off in midwifery came not recently but all the way back with the Spanish conquest. In the middle of this discussion tamales and a corn drink appeared. More audacious hospitality.
Stacey and Ruth got to hold a baby. Hamilton. He became the symbol for the trip. There were lots of pictures taken. There were lots of statistics and figures but perhaps the most important things were the stories and the feelings. This is important life saving life sustaining work. As a measure of that someone had asked how they get paid. They don’t think about payment in the middle of attending a birth. The most important. The health of the mother and the health of the baby and the two new eyes that appear.
They asked us about becoming a rabbi. We explained the training. Maria Cecilia said that one day she might like to become one. She exchanged emails with Eliot who will be back in Guatemala City as the high holiday rabbi at the Progressive Synagogue here. She was very curious. I was curious about the woman named Santos Margarita. She assured me she was no saint. But her family has always been spiritual leaders and healers. Soon it was time to go. Jill presented the ajws plaque and we broke into a spontaneity singing shalom chaverim because this was not good-bye since we would be seeing them tomorrow. Then back on the bus.
Dinner included an open discussion with Ruth. She began with her own story of self which she framed in terms of listening. Two stories. One about Zimbabwe where she visited a school and asked what they needed desks, chairs, books, whiteboard. And he replied, i cant teach if they don’t have breakfast. The other about her political life. She only changed her vote once. On needle exchange. She went out to one of the original exchanges under the elevated tracks at midnight in the Bronx. The people explained that while they couldn’t seem to kick their addictions, they didn’t want to infect anyone with AIDS either. Ruth heard the stories and publicly changed her vote.
Listening. We are back to the sh’ma. And these very words. When we lie down and when we rise up. Lila tov amigos. buenos nochis. It is another early morning bus call when we can discuss these words again. There is so much more to learn. So much more circling. So many more questions to ask. And there will be more stories to hear