It's Raining

It has rained every day since the beginning of May. Or maybe not every day, but almost every day for the past five months. The mornings often begin beautifully, sunny, warm… but by noon the clouds start rolling in, by mid-afternoon the rain starts to fall. Sometimes gently, but often so hard that it is not worth putting music on the radio, as it cannot compete with the sound of the raindrops pounding on the roof (the buildings don’t have inside ceilings- just the rafters and above them the corrugated metal or plastic roofing material). There are a few holes in the roof that let in some of the rain, and if I forget to put a towel on the floor by the door I wake up to a mop job. I usually go to bed night to the sound of the rain.

When I first arrived it was the dry season, and I wondered why there were such deep cement troughs running along the perimeter of each of the buildings and why such deep curb gutters along the roads. Once the rainy season began it was clear. The amount of water that has to be channeled away is just astounding.

I noticed a few weeks ago that this has begun to take a toll on my mood. I think I am suffering from a bit of “seasonal affective disorder.” I realize that this is usually diagnosed for those living through winter months when the days are short and the hours of sun are reduced. An interesting thing I learned here is that since we are closer to the Equator, there is not that much difference between the number of hours of sun each day in the winter and in the summer. It has consistently been light by around 5am, and it is consistently dark by about 7pm. And so never having light after dinner is kind of a downer. But I think it is the rain, more than the shorter days, that is getting to me.

I am usually the only one I see with an umbrella when it rains. In fact, the people in Guatemala are more likely to be seen holding an umbrella to ward off the sun than to ward off the rain. Even the word they use- “Sombrilla” (related to the word that means “shine”) is different from the one we learned in Spanish class- “Paraguas” (= “for the waters”). The kids go along with their lives, doing their chores outside, moving from place to place. The only real change is that if it is raining, they bring the dinner to the sections where the kids live rather than have everyone traipse through the mud into the dining hall.

I think that I have generally seen rain as a bother. Sure, Spring thunderstorms can be awesome and the accompanying lightning a dramatic show. But rain is something I put up with, and if I have to be outside during a storm, I am annoyed if I get wet.

But it is different for those who live here. I think that many welcome the contrast to the dry heat of the summer months (their “summer” is the dry season, November –April). And I’ll admit, it gets toasty, even at the altitude of 1500 meters where we live. But I love the sun! Those who live here run from it. A sun tan is of no benefit for the Guatemalans. In fact, the people here work hard to avoid it. There even seems to be a certain beauty preference for those with lighter skin.

The rain does cool things down, and that is nice especially at night. (Although I am not looking forward to the month of December, a dry month, when I am told that it gets down to the 40’s at night inside the house.) The littlest kids love to play and splash in the rain. The older ones play soccer in it. People go about their business, hardly taking note of it. It is just a normal part of the day.

                                               

When I was visiting the NPH home in Honduras earlier this month I came to appreciate another perspective on the rain. The National Director told me that they have built new cisterns to hold run-off from the rain up in the hills, and that this rainwater (which they can use for irrigating their crops, washing and cleaning, and purify for drinking) saves them $50/day in electricity that they would otherwise spend to run the pump. He was all smiles while getting drenched, explaining this to me as I listened under my umbrella. He also said that the dry months offer a particular challenge- as the brush and trees in the hillsides surrounding the home often catch fire. There is no forest fire brigade in Honduras, and so the kids spend a good chunk of time, sometimes working night and day for days at a time, putting out fires and digging fire lines to protect their home. 

Farmers at home are understandably tuned-in to the rain levels, and I understand Lake Michigan is down a couple of feet- which has affected some of the marinas that have to raise or extend their docks. The deep tunnel project in Chicago has reduced flooding in basements, so heavy rains are not as worrisome, although the Fox and Des Plaines rivers regularly flow over their banks in the Springtime. So I am learning to make peace with the rain. I am told it should finally end in a few weeks, and so I will be able to forget about it for a while and my mood will probably improve.  I suspect that it will improve even more in January when I am basking in the sun while reading reports about snow and ice at home…

NPH El Salvador, the Advantage of Stability and a Snapshot of the Chapel We Hope to Build

In mid-August, a group of ten of us from NPH Guatemala drove about six hours south to the NPH home in El Salvador to meet some of our co-workers and learn about how they live and manage the home. In addition to the National Director, his wife and me, we had the doctor from our clinic, the head of human resources, the director of the primary school, our social worker, psychologist, the heads of the boys’ and girls’ houses, and an administrator who works on special projects. Each was able to spend significant time with those who have corresponding roles there…

One thing I realized right off the bat was the huge advantage that comes with stable leadership. The Guatemalan home has had a number of National Directors over its sixteen year history; in El Salvador the same person who opened the home in 1999 continues to lead as National Director. He had the foresight to plant thousands of trees (whose shade is essential there), and created a home nestled within a botanical garden.  The El Salvador home is really out in the “boonies,” which reduces exposure to outsiders and to the outside world. There are pros and cons to this. It is becoming clear to me that each NPH home has its own personality, and that approaches that work well in one place may not be appropriate in another.

Our new national director, Christopher Hoyt, has the task of implementing major reforms here, and taking a team from Guatemala to visit a real success story in El Salvador will undoubtedly yield results. While there was no lack of good will and good intentions here in the past, we all realize that we are at an important moment in our history, and many are counting on Chris to lead his team to power through changes and improvements that will benefit the kids here.

A key position recently opened up for us, and it will be crucial to fill it with the right person. The former house director (who manages the residential areas and the tios and tias) decided that it would be best for him and his family to return to his native Nicaragua (he grew up in the NPH home there). I very much enjoyed working with him, and while sorry to see him go, I think that he was ready for a change. I really believe that the kids will miss him, and his departure is a loss. Finding the right person for this post will perhaps be Chris’ most important decision this year.

I have always felt that transition in organizations can be positive, bringing in new people with fresh eyes and new perspectives. But in a children’s residential environment like ours stability is a huge value. And it is something that the kids here in Guatemala simply have not had. The talent pool is limited in Guatemala, and so it is often best to work as hard as you can with people you’ve got and help them to grow and develop in their roles. Just as at Catholic institutions in the States, a lack of funding affects our ability in some areas to move forward as we should. We have many good people working here (there are something like 150 employees), but the education and training of those who work most closely with the children is nothing like what we would have in the USA. And attracting “the best and the brightest” is more difficult when salaries are low. Many of our "tios and tias" are awesome, and on-site continuing education helps to fill the gap; but most do not have the benefit of an educational background in child development and children’s emotional and psychological needs.  

This understanding of children’s emotional and psychological needs undergirds the general policy about limiting visitors’ interactions with the children, and is the reason why volunteers are asked to give a full year to the home. Transition is hard on children, and it can stunt children’s psychological and emotional growth when they get to know people, develop bonds… and then those people disappear.

In fact, this is something that I struggled with prior to coming here: I don’t want to cause further emotional wounds by developing relationships with these kids and then leaving them behind when I return to my life in Chicago. I guess I have determined that it will be OK, though- and here is why:

• Start with this sad fact: the kids are used to people leaving them. I hope that losing me will be just another blip in their history of comings-and-goings of significant people in their lives.
• While they have not had stability on the “inside,” most have stability on the “outside.” For most of these kids, their primary relationships are with family members living outside of the home. Remember that the profile of NPH (at least in Guatemala) has shifted quite a bit over the years, and only about a quarter of the kids here are true “orphans.” (I think that it serves the cause of “truth in advertising” that the American fundraising arm for Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos, “Friends of the Orphans” has recently changed its name to “NPH USA.” Perhaps I should also change the name of my blog- I probably would if it were going to be up more long-term. Hopefully I will at least be able to stop using it for fundraising by the end of the year, when I hope to have all that I’ll need to build the chapel here. See below for more on this.) While most of the kids here are not orphans in the technical sense, they are here for a reason. They are certainly underprivileged and the family situations are such that children have been removed and placed here by a judge. 
•   I wear my black priest’s clothes every day, with occasional exceptions. I simply think it is the best way to present myself to the children and adults here. I have come not as Jim Hurlbert, but as “Padre Santiago,” a priest of Jesus Christ; I want to make sure that message never gets lost. The kids who develop an attachment to this “man in black” will hopefully be able to transfer that attachment and affection to the man in black who takes over for me when I return to Chicago. A priest’s role is not to develop a “cult of personality” that leaves people devastated when he departs. Our role is to mediate the presence of Jesus. And while I may have my own particular way of attempting to do this, others who follow me will mediate the presence of that same Jesus, even if in a different way. It is Jesus I want the kids to fall in love with- not me. And when I go, Jesus will still be here. I was comforted by the fact that many of the younger kids called me “Padre Wasson” (the founder) during my first weeks here. The roman collar was the message, not the face or personality. 
•  Finally, I suspect that my relationship with the kids at NPH Guatemala will end up being life-long. Seeing how experiences in NPH homes have affected other priests and seminarians, I imagine that I will make regular visits down here even after I am re-assigned.

Visiting other NPH homes is helpful in gaining perspective, as well as getting ideas for how we might follow the example of success found there. I plan to visit the NPH home in Honduras at the end of September, and look forward to meeting the children there, as well as learning about their approach to ministry.

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Here’s a look at the design for the chapel we hope to build: 

We are putting the finishing touches on construction documents that we can use to solicit bids for the work. I suspect we may need to simplify once we see what our present idea will cost, but that’s all part of the process. I am anxious to get some numbers so that I can make the final fundraising push and assemble the dollars to make this a reality! If you have not yet made a donation, but are ready to now, click here and it will take you to the page with instructions for how to do this.

Volcanoes and Visitors

This past Saturday I took part in an excursion with group of about sixty of the older kids to climb to the top of a nearby volcano. Here at the NPH, two large volcanoes loom over the landscape: Volcán de Agua and Volcán de Acatenango. Behind Acatenango is the Vulcán de Fuego, which is still active and whose plumes of smoke can often be seen rising in the distance. Led by two experienced guides, we journeyed to the top of Acatenango, a trip that ended up being much more of an ordeal than I had envisioned.

 

We arrived at the base at 6am and began our 1800 meter climb to the crater, which is at about 13,000 feet (almost 4000 meters). It was almost a completely vertical ascent, and as we approached the top, we had to plow through thick volcanic sand that made progress extremely slow. I was amazed at the ability of the kid to trek up this volcano’s side, as many had old shoes with holes in them or otherwise inappropriate footwear. We were warned to bring jackets, and I am glad that I did as the wind-chill at the top, where we experienced what I’m sure were 40 mph winds, was numbing. I have done a fair amount of hiking in the Austrian Alps, and have really pushed myself to the limit- and this climb was as difficult as any I have made in the past. Yet what a reward once we reached the top! The breathtaking view of the Guatemalan highlands made it all worthwhile. And the moonscape that was the crater was like something out of a science fiction movie. We could walk along the rim and down into it, a bowl of black sand. When we dug down into the sand, we could feel the heat, and smoke (or was it steam?) drifted upwards.

 

After the exhausting climb to the crater just about everyone lay down (partly to escape the wind) and took a little nap. Lying in the warm sand, the clouds drifted above us overhead, as well as between us, settling at times into the basin. We had the volcano to ourselves; there was no one else there. (The only other people we saw all day was a group of 8 on the path that were with an excursion company out of Antigua.) This particular volcano has not erupted since 1972, but looking across to the Volcán de Fuego right next door, we could see plumes of smoke venting out of the top- an eerie sight.

 

Before heading back down, we spent some time in conversation with the kids, inviting them to compare the challenge of this climb with some of the challenges they have faced in their own lives. The idea was that the successful achieving of a goal like the climbing of a volcano can help us to develop confidence when confronted by other challenges that intimidate or even scare us. 

 

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Here at NPH we are blessed to have both volunteers who commit a year of their lives to serve the kids here, and short-term visitors who come for a week or so to learn about NPH and to volunteer doing manual labor in construction or the farm. The groups who come for the week or so are led by members of the fundraising offices, mostly those in the US and Canada. (We occasionally have small groups from Europe.) These groups are made up mostly of high school and college students.

The interactions that our kids have with the visitors can be very positive. The visitors provide a break in the monotony of our children’s lives. Sometimes the kids do develop lasting relationships, and can maintain contact via mail.

To be honest, I think that we also provide a particular ministry to those who come to visit the kids: by making this experience available to them, they are drawn into a deeper understanding of and appreciation for the challenges that others experience. They participate actively in helping to make life better for those who live here. Things are much different here than in the US or Canada, and the week that North American youth spend at NPH can be a life-changer for them. They return to their homes as good will ambassadors for NPH, and this can help to draw other potential donors into the fold.

And the visitors actually do get work done. We definitely benefit from the results of their labor.

 

In essence, I think I would call the relationship that we have with the visiting groups “symbiotic.” There is definitely a give-and-take in the relationship, a mutual benefit; it is part of the ministry of NPH to the world “out there.”  From what I see, the gracious welcome that we try to give the visiting groups comes from the heart. I think that those here feel truly privileged that others from far away are willing to make personal sacrifices so that they can come and spend a week with us.

Mid-Year Break from School, Quince Años and Chapel Update

The school year in Guatemala runs January to October- something that has taken me a while to get the feel for. We are now in the rainy season, a time they call “invierno,” which means winter. But the weather is beautifully warm, and the rain usually just comes in the late afternoon or at night. The long vacation from school is between October and January (kind of like our regular summer vacation).  Right now, the kids are off for two weeks, a mid-year break.

It has really hit home this week just how much the situation here at NPH Guatemala has changed. The majority of the kids are away, with their families; less than a hundred remain here at the home. Those here are the true orphans, those with no meaningful connection with extended family outside of NPH. The rest have places they can go, and most look forward to their time away.  I am told that they often return with a renewed appreciation for what they have here- many spend their vacation weeks with relatives living in extreme poverty: dirt floor, corrugated metal walls and roof… Others will stay with family living in dangerous neighborhoods of Guatemala City. Some will come back damaged from time spent with those struggling with drug and alcohol addictions. Some will come back having been physically or emotionally (and occasionally, sexually) abused. Some will come back malnourished and dirty. Needless to say, when they arrive back, the first stop is at the clinic for physical and psychological exams.

Guatemalan law requires that the kids leave during the breaks if it is at all possible. Apparently there is a real “anti-institution” movement here, and as I have written elsewhere. Even if there are no parents, work is done to find some kind of blood relative who can care for the child during school vacation time. Naturally, if there is a sense of imminent danger to the child, we can work to ensure that the child does not go to the place of danger. But it is often not until after the damage has been done that we find out.

This is not to say that all have a rough time at home. I understand that for many, it really is a wonderful experience, something they truly look forward to. The fact that so many have family outside of NPH is a real challenge to the family model that the organization here has tried to develop and foment. But certainly it is better to have family than not to have family. We continue to tinker with the model to find ways to maintain its core while adapting to a much different reality than Father Wasson envisioned.

For the kids who remain during vacation, we work hard to keep them occupied and active. There are more activities than usual (I am inviting them in groups for a hot dog lunch on the patio of my new residence). The new Superman movie is here in Spanish, and so one day they managed to surprise the older kids with a bus ride to Chimaltenango and a movie. There is a real sensitivity to the fact that the kids remaining may feel a deep sadness during this time, as their being alone here while others are away rubs in the nature of their situation.

QUINCE AÑOS

Right before the vacation began, we celebrated the Quince Años celebration for nine of our girls. This 15^th  birthday is, I suppose, a little like the “Sweet Sixteen” at home for us gringos. The Spanish-speaking in the US often also celebrate the Quinceañera.  Donations were secured from local individuals and groups that allowed the purchase of prom gowns for the girls. Someone came in and did their makeup, and it really was a beautiful day. We began with a Mass in the Comedor, decorated to the hilt. After the Mass, the girls and their consorts performed a choreographed waltz, which they had practiced for the past couple of months. This was followed by a formal dinner and a dance with raucous, obnoxiously loud music (the loud music is par for the course for events here.) They were up until after 11pm, which is super late for them; the kids are generally in bed with lights out by 8 or 8:30 every night.

It was great having all of the Pequeños here- including those from the High School houses in nearby Chimaltenango and those from the university house in the capital. In addition, if the girls had relatives they wanted to invite, they were able to invite them. I also met a number of former “Pequeños” who have since grown up and are living on their own. And so, this event is kind of like a family reunion. The Guatemalan newspaper actually did a little piece on it with a picture of the girls all dressed up.  

CHAPEL UPDATE

I am working with an architect, a couple of NPH kids studying architecture at the university, and the local parish pastor to come up with a design that we can use for the final push to raise funds. Of course, once we bid out the job, reality may set in, and we may have to simplify. Some of the work can be done by us here (the carpentry shop can build the pews and doors; the metal shop may be able to handle the windows), but I think it will be best to find a contractor for the main construction. We might be able to handle it ourselves, but I think it would take forever. Volunteers coming in can help with some things, but I don’t think there is anyone on site who is really in the position to take this on as an in-house project.

 Here is what we are planning for

+ A seating capacity of 400 adults (The present population, including high school and university kids, is just under 350. Using the space of the ambulatory and in back, there should be space for the larger celebrations that take place a couple of times each year.)

+ The chapel should have a prominent presence among the buildings, but still fit in with the style of those around it

+ The construction should be fairly simple, not extravagant- reflecting the situation of the children, and the fact that everything here comes from private donations from generous individuals and organizations.

+ We will consider the possibility of taking advantage of the slope of the terrain and investigate incorporating into the design a room underneath to be used for meetings- only if this does not increase the price too much.

+ We would also like to have a “patio” in front, perhaps enclosed by a wall, to define the space and provide a transition between the “profane” and “sacred” spaces.

+ We will choose a design with a traditional form- basilica or cruciform. Also, a form and design that are compatible with what is generally found in this diocese.