Quinceañera

"I've gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good, good night."

No I'm not a fan of the Black Eyed Peas, but tonight's gonna be a good, good night. At least I hope. Tonight I'm going to a Quince, short for Quinceañera, which is Spanish for a girls coming of age party at 15. Oh to be a 15 year old girl again, um just kidding. I don't think I had a party when I turned 15, which might be because I'm a guy. For my 15th I went fly fishing with my dad in Oklahoma. The best part of the trip was tying minuscule flies with my dad, complaining about my icicle fingers, and still loving it. My best friend Philip came along and we used the tent stake bag for a hat. Philip and I spent more time throwing rocks than line, which might be why we didn't have fish to eat that night. That was a special birthday for me and yet it doesn't compare to the Quincaeñera.

While I've been to plenty regular birthday parties, and become rather famous for my dance moves, I do a wicked sprinkler that I morph into an up and down jabbing fist pump, It's wild; I've never been to a Quince. But the kids told me to expect a good meal and then to bust a move or two on the dance floor. I can't leave these parties without a little dancing. The kids request my moves, it's sad but true. The party will be held at Bonifaz, which I have been in once and is a beautiful hotel located near downtown Xela, and will probably last all night or until 4 in the morning to be exact. I think the Latin culture may know how to celebrate life.

For the party Bonifaz, a beautiful white hotel in central park across from my apartment, was

decorated immaculately. Purple balloons hung from the ceiling like big grapes and each table was decorated with candy and flowers. A great mass of people filled the hall, 300 of which were invited and the rest were colados, Guatemalan slang for party crashers. The party started at 7:00, but according to local custom you don't show up until an hour later. So like any good ethnographer I didn't roll into the party until 8:00, which was hard because I'm punctual. But as it turned out 8:00 was right on time. As I took my seat in the crowded banquet hall, Ale, the 15-year-old host of the party, hand in hand with her dad, danced out onto the dance floor. The dance was beautiful and I'm sure she will remember it for the rest of her life.

I could have celebrated my 15th birthday MTV style, but that's typically for girls and no real people celebrate like that. The show Sweet Sixteen is just ridiculous and I'm glad I went fishing. No real people celebrate a birthday that way. Or do they? The Quince comes close. But I think the only true comparison to a Quince in the states is a wedding reception. Now at 15 I wasn't getting married, so there wasn't anyway I was going to have a huge dance party. Heck, at that age I could barely move my feet to the beat; not much has changed.

Now, when I turned 18 I flew to Tulsa to hang out with friends. This was a great way to celebrate becoming an adult, but still not as big as the Quince. Maybe guys just don't place much importance on their birthdays. Maybe it's a gender thing because girls, even in the states, do love to be treated like princesses for a day. But as I look back at my sisters' celebrations, and their friend's celebrations, they didn't celebrate the Latin way. Turning 15 might not mean that much in the states. Really only turning 16 because you can drive, 18 because you can vote, and 21 because you can drink mean anything in the states. Yet, these don't compare to turning 15 down here where it means womanhood. I remember watching a movie in my Spanish class about a Hispanic girl turning 15 and working so hard so she could have a party. It meant everything to her. While, my students aren't in the same economic condition as the heroin in the movie the party still means a lot to them. They practice for days for their dance. They skip school to go dress shopping. And then they invite hundreds of people to come party in their honor. Even weddings are different than this. Weddings are the celebration of two people becoming one, but I think Quinces are just celebrations of life. So, I hope you all are invited to a Quince someday and can celebrate life the way it should be celebrated.

Indepencia y Rio Dulce

Independence in Guatemala is a couple week long celebration. Last year I blogged about my trip to the fair and the grito that was celebrated Independence eve. This year I made it back to the fair twice, but instead of staying in Xela for Independence weekend I treked all the way to Rio Dulce, which is located close to the Caribbean. Both the fair and Rio Dulce were amazing and I figured I would share a few of my pictures with you all. I hope you enjoy. The first video I'm posting is of a ride that I tried to describe in last year's blog. It's nothing but insanity. I didn't ride it this year. After a week of stalling on the blog so I could make the video work,sadly it will not post. I will continue to work on the videos so you all will need to keep checking this blog. Trust me this ride is sick. So you know what you are missing from the video just picture a spinning wheel of death, no seat belts, and violent tremors. Okay, now for the pictures. The above is a shot of the Ferris Wheel of death that Guatemalan's love to ride while they're at the fair. It's powered by an old tractor and a foot pedal. Okay, you get the picture, now here are some my photo's from Rio Dulce and the Fair. It was a great time and I hope you enjoy the photos.

Darwin and the Evolution of Brendan

Do you know why Charles Darwin boarded the HSM Beagle on December 27th, 1831 and what really happened to him as he sailed the world for five years? You may be surprised that the answer to that question won't be found in history books or even personal journals. To know the truth you have to study the heart of a man. This is what I think motivated Darwin.

First, Darwin's older brother exploded into the public's eye a couple years earlier when he introduced a new method for tossing chamber pots out of windows. This drove Darwin to step out from under his brother's shadow and window. Second, he'd grown tired of his mom picking out his underwear for him, but moving out of his parents' house would have solved that. No, I think he sailed away from England for five years because of a girl. Just like most broken-hearted men, he figured an adventure would cure his ills. Little did Darwin know that the hussy who dumped him like last night's chamber pot was a tramp and not worth his time, but I guess if he'd figured that out before his trip he wouldn't have set sail and never grown as a man. Growth is inevitable when you see more of God's creation. God evolves the heart and the mind through time. So as Darwin sailed from island to island he was changed. He forgot about his broken heart, his brother, but not his mom. He'd actually missed having fresh undies.

But seriously, a little more than a year ago I flew down to Guatemala not knowing what I was doing with my life or that God was going to evolve my heart and mind. I was a blank canvas waiting for an artist to paint on me his masterpiece. Now my canvas resembles the beginning of a fine painting. So why am I still in Guatemala? My mom stopped picking out my undies years ago and when I left no girl had broken my heart, nor do I have a famous sibling who hogs the conversation at the dinner table. I'm here to serve God and to grow. Last year I grew quiet a bit, but I know God is not done yet.

So, what does serving God look like for me this year? Well, I've been attempting to reach out to my students in a more personal way, despite the fact they can be mean and loving all in one class period, by inviting them to do things outside of school. I hope that God uses these times to show them how much he loves them. By doing this I'm changing. Like the little fox in Saint Exupery's The Little Prince I'm becoming tame to my students. They aren't just faces in a crowd, they're individual kids that need the love of Christ.

No matter why Darwin set sail, his trip around the world changed him and my time down in Guatemala is changing me. I know that I'm more self-reliant. I cook for myself, which means I've been eating a lot of pbnj's or going to friend's houses' for dinner. I'm slowly learning Spanish. Although my conversations in Spanish are still short, I can tell my friends all about my time at the gym. Quite frankly, God has made me more confident. Before I left I was having trouble talking to people at all because I felt so lost. I'd graduated but didn't have a purpose. I'm not that man anymore. I have a purpose. I know more of what I want out of life. I want to share God's love with those around me and use my writing to communicate the truth of life. I'm no longer afraid to open up to people, which is a must when you want to see your students open up about what is going on in their lives. I've found that when you share a little about who you are they often are willing to share a little of who they are. And that's how both sides grow; evolve. Mostly they tell me about their love lives and yet I sit down most every night and pray for them. I plan on returning to the states eventually and like Darwin I'll know a little bit more about the world. I'll know that I'm a man seeking after God's heart with my eyes wide open. That's an evolution I hope happens to everyone.

Back in Action

My first two weeks back in the guate have been marathon-esque. Last year it took me a while to feel comfortable, but this year's different. I hit the ground running. Last Sunday I had a pot-luck at my apartment, after being back only 14 days. And on Saturday I took some of the new teachers on a hike up Laguna Chicabol, which is a lake in the crater of a volcano. The pot-luck and the hike were two great events that are helping build a strong community, which was one of my goals for my return. Without asking the new teachers, I'd have to say God has been answering my prayer.

My summer in Colorado was a blast, but I'm glad to be back. While I was in the states for the summer I attended a couple weddings and met my niece! She's almost seven months old now and has already won the Miss Universe title. Here are a few of her answers to the judge's questions, "'Out of all your family who do you love the most?' 'Brendan.' "If you could change the world what would you do?' 'I would live closer to my favorite uncle.'" The rest she answered with her adorable giggle. How could she not win?

I also enjoyed seeing all of my friends back in the States. I danced my heart out at all the weddings and even climbed a 14er. My time in the States seemed short, but it re-energized me for my return to Guatemala. I need that energy to teach because I am now chasing after little kids. Early childhood teachers should be sainted. But I know this is where God wants me to be, even if I am teaching something completely different than I was last year.

At first it felt a little weird to be back in Xela, because I was unsure of what I was going to do with four year olds in PE. It also felt weird to be back because even though I'd only been away two months, I'd managed to grow comfortable being in the States. Who doesn't like hot water all the time and toilets that flush paper to boot? But God uses those challenges to help me grow. I know God wants me here. He has strengthened my friendships from last year and he is helping me form new friendships with the new people on staff. I am excited to see how they fit in and I sure hope I can help them feel comfortable. I've been trying to use my apartment to help that desire. I'm loving living in a place on my own. I miss my host family, but being able to invite people over is worth it.

The pot-luck I hosted at my house was a blast and I hope to have more. Mostly so that I can continue to help make the new teachers feel at home, but also because when you have a pot-luck the leftovers are left over at your house. That's a nice perk for my roommate and me. God is moving down here! I just hope he can teach me how to teach pre-k PE. The kids are adorable but don't speak English and like to run all over the place. It's craziness.

What my students say!

Check teaching for a year in Guatemala off the proverbial list of things to do, 'cause I'm done for the summer!  I'm ready to tear through Guate con mi familia!  I've a lot in store for them and I hope they're ready!  As excited as I am for my family to be here and for the school year to be at the end, it's hard to say goodbye, even though I'm coming back.  I've learned a lot and I hope I've taught a lot.  I love my kids and I think they care a little bit about me.  The following is what they wrote in my yearbook.  I'm not showing you guys this so you think, "Oh Brendan thinks he's great because his kids say he's cool."  No, you're getting to read this because I think its funny.  I've left the grammar and spelling just as they wrote it (remember I taught English, History, and PE).  They call me all kinds of different things from Mr. Scott, to Scottie, to Mr. 1999, to Brendan, only outside of school.  Some of my students thought I was cool (I sure tricked them) and some didn't think much of me at all.  Over all, I really connected with a lot of the kids at IAS (my school).  I love that they care about my dating life or lack there of.  I really hope that God uses me in their lives.  I want to see them use correct grammar and better spelling, but that may take a miracle.  I guess I'll just accept seeing them grow in Christ.  So here are some of their quotes.  They made me laugh and each has its own story.  I hope you enjoy.

Mr. Scott,

you R really fun! I love your class!  I hope you change your mind about girls! [Me here. I told the the 8th grade girls that I thought girls were useless, but I was just kidding and they gave me a hard time about it for the rest of the year.]  I think that you have to start serching for your future wife because you have a long way to go! Jjajaja

-(8th grade girl)

Mr. Scott,

You're an awesome teacher bisdies your horrible laps.  Keep rocking.

-(8th grade boy)

Mr. Scott,

You are crazy but it's okay! [She wrote all of here exclamation points with hearts]

You are not cool but it's okay!

Hope to see you next year hope you become funner!  [One day during class she stopped me mid lecture and said, "I thought you said class was going to be fun."  Ouch!]  I love you as a teacher

-(7th grade girl)

Mr. Scott,

I aggree with [the 8th grade girl about me needing to change my mind about girls] HaHaHa!  Thanks Mr. for the adivce you gave to me!  I hope to see you next year.  Thanks for all!

-(8th grade boy)

Mr. SCOTT

you're classes are awesome and overall you are cool and have a cold summer in coloRado.  Mr. 1999, be a little less strict.

-(6th grade girl)

Mr. Scott

You r soo cool thanx 4 Every thing Cya next year!!!

-(7th grade girl)

Hey Mr. Scott!

Hope you have an awesome sumer! You are kind of cool! JK! [smily face] It was fun having you this year!  See you next year!

-(8th grade girl)

Mr. Scott

Thanks for the cool PE class that we had  See you next year

-(8th grade boy)

Mr. Scott

I hope you don't give a lot of exersize

-(5th grader who I will teach next year)

Scott,

You're cool!  I'm glad you like Coldplay as much as I do!  Have an awesome summer!  Don't get lost!

-(8th grade girl)

Mr. Scott,

You are a awesome teacher, thank you for teaching us History.  See you next year.  Have a cool summer.

-(7th grade girl)

Mr. Scott you're cool but dont Make us run in P.E.!  P.S. let os play rugby

-(7th grade boy)

Sccotie-

Have a nice summer.  Thanks for the emarecing moments on P.E.  I'll miss them.

-(10th grade boy)

Mr. Scott

Have a happy life.

-(10th grade boy that knows I'll be back next year)

Scottie (as they call you . . .)

You weren't my actual teacher . . . But, I really enjoyed hearing about your first kiss and bad influences. Heh.

-(10th grade girl)

Reading through all of these proves to me that I connected with my students in some way or another, which was my desire in coming down here.  As I look to coming back and teaching next year I can only wonder where God will take these relationships or if he will help my students and me learn how to spell and use correct grammar.  I heard he was in the miracle business.

Coban Canceled!

Being that apologies via the blog are all the rage right now (Mark Cuban's, owner of the Dallas Mavericks, apology to K-Mart's, Power Forward for the Denver Nuggets, mom) I would like to apologize to my readers because this blog you are about to read isn't what you might expect and it isn't the blog I wanted to write. So please bear with me for a minute or two while I complain. Two weeks ago I wrote about how running has changed me. How I was so excited to run in a half-marathon here in Guatemala. Well, shortly after I jotted my last blog, the half-marathon was canceled. Why? Swine flu. Wow! Swine flu must be really bad down there, you may be thinking. Well, in Guatemala there has been one case and that was about a month ago. Did you notice the "has" and the "one." They both indicate singular and the "has" indicates past tense. So why cancel the race? I know that the swine flu isn't something to joke about, but I think the Guatemalan government over reacted by canceling the race.

I want to look at some international happenings really quickly. Mexico, the nation that had it the worst, allowed its fine people to start attending soccer games the same week Guatemala canceled my race. Maybe Guatemala just cares more about its people. I doubt it. If you've been following the world news you might know that President Alvaro Colom is in trouble for the suspicious death of a lawyer. I'd say more but I don't want to end up missing. (Just google search Alvaro Colom and you can find out more for yourself.) So how does this connect with the cancellation of the race? Well, they said they canceled it because they did not want to allow large gatherings. I mean a thousand or so people were going to run the race, many from other countries, all gathering at once could cause a pandemic. That could explain the cancellation except for the fact the government paid 30,000 people to rally their support for Colom and then they allowed another 30,000 to protest him. The government allowing 60,000 people to gather on the same day my race was scheduled to be doesn't make me think they really care for their people. But maybe they all were safe because they'd bought hand sanitizer and masks. I guess you can't quiet run in a mask, so I just wouldn't have been safe.

I wanted to write a blog today about how the race went, all the sights I saw, how my legs kept pumping even after my mind said stop. Instead I spent my day writing a test and watching the Lakers bumble past the Rockets. (Boring!) I guess you could say I'm slightly depressed. I don't think I've trained so hard for anything and then just to have it ripped away at the last moment really sucks. But aren't there other races you could run in the states? I know you're asking that right now. Yes there are. There is actually one on the 14 of June, but it's not the same. I just trained for 12 weeks to run this race in Coban. Coban is eight hours away and a beautiful place, from what I've been told. Part of running there was being able to visit a new part of the country I live in. I can't say that about the race in Denver. And with all of the training I put in I feel like I should be able to race now. I'm going to lose a toenail and I lost ten pounds while training (okay my intestinal infection helped with that). But it's just a race. I think I can read your minds now. It's not just about the race though. I never thought I would run a half-marathon until Yasi, my school's secretary, convinced me to run with her. Yasi is probably the most helpful person in the world and loves to run more than I do. All of the races in the states wont have my training partner in them, she's got to stay with her husband and kid in Guatemala. I don't want to run alone.

The moment I found out that the race was canceled I felt awful. I can only relate it to what it feels like to end a relationship. My blood, sweat (gallons), and other bodily stuff were lost to this race only for it to be torn away from me. I'm still very mad about it being canceled and it doesn't help that I should have run the race today. Instead I went to the gym this morning and ran seven miles on the treadmill. Lame. I wanted to achieve the goal I worked so hard to attain. Now I have to say, maybe next year. But maybe I need to look at what good things training for this race led to. I'm in the best shape of my life; I keep on being able to say that because I keep on getting in better shape. Training for it gave me an outlet for the stress of teaching 12 year olds. And lastly I've made friends because of this race. Along with Yasi, I've gone running with a couple other people and now when I go to the gym I can have small conversations with them in Spanish. The race may have been canceled but it has opened my world here in Xela. I guess that's a good thing and I'll just have to be patient and see where God takes this.

Two Weeks until Coban!

I swear I'm still the same boy who couldn't run a mile.  Every time I run, every footfall on the treadmill, or the pavement, I'm reminded of that boy.  How every time I was forced to run a mile in gym class I would lose my lunch.  I know that a lot of people throw-up after running because they're out of shape, but for me this always signaled the onset of a long migraine.  These migraines were debilitating; typically I would be out for a week because I couldn't stop throwing-up.  After an abundance of hospital visits, which is another story, we finally figured out that I was suffering from abdominal migraines, which are abominable.  Before I was diagnosed with abdominal migraines, I made every attempt to avoid running the mile, but gym coaches never listen if you don't have a doctor's note.  Finding out that I was suffering from migraines did little to stop the migraines from coming.  At one point I decided to stop all physical exercise because over-exertion seemed to be what triggered the migraines.  All of this added up to me not being able to run a mile.  And I still feel like that boy even though I'm about to run a half-marathon.

This last Monday I ran a 15-k out on the streets.  Up until now all of my training for my half-marathon was on a treadmill.  It's hard to run outside when you don't know the area that well and all of the distances are in Spanish (okay they're in kilometers, which are as foreign to me as Spanish).  I finally found some people to run with and took off for a jaunt through town.  Running on the streets in Xela is an interesting experience, filled with pot-holes and fast cars.  I sucked in a lot of exhaust from the buses, which doesn't actually help you run faster, and saw a dead dog on the side of the road.  Once we reached the edge of town the run improved.  The scenery changed from Burger Kings and hospitals to beautiful farm country with the Volcano Santa Maria looming in the distance shrouded by clouds.  The roads cleared a little bit and the hills we'd been climbing flattened out, but then it started to rain.  If you ever want to feel hard-core, really manly, go run a hill and then watch everyone else hide under shelter as the rain starts to turns to hail and you push through it.  After completing the 15-k in the rain, I've decided I'm going to be able to run the half-marathon.  Knowing I have the ability to run 13.1 miles still doesn't tell me how I mutated from the boy who couldn't run a mile to the man I am now.

I think God has something to do with it.  He changed me so I could enjoy physical activities at a semi-competitive level again.  I know the change didn't happen over night.  It was slow and has taken a lot of effort on my part.  I've had a lot of setbacks.  I've gotten a few migraines, but I've decided to push through.  That is why when I run the half-marathon in Coban in two weeks I will be thanking God at every mile.  I might still feel like the boy who couldn't run a mile and always stood shamefully next to his PE teachers while the rest of the guys ran the mile, but He has blessed me with the legs to run and the body to endure and I'm rather grateful for that.