Panajchellin’ Out
The warnings came true. I woke at 6 am on May 19th with an awful stomach ache and several side effects. I whined. I was angry. I wondered why it happened to me. Then I realized something as I lay in the extreme comfort of the Utz Jay hotel in Panajchel later that evening. Where have I been for the last week? What has the Lord shown me? I had antibiotics on my nightstand and a nurse just upstairs. Since when was I so infatuated with myself? 
I think that we Americans easily take our comforts for granted. When faced with all the comforts one could ever dream of and yet being angry about being sick, one asks himself if he is truly a Christian. I have seen people who sleep on floors, have tin roofs, and are at the mercy of a clinic that provides good medical help, but is financially strapped. That is the point of trips such as this. For men and women to truly become their full identity in Christ, and that means first seeing their selfishness then getting outside of themselves.
In 2012, I was able to see the beauty of the Catholic Church in Rome. What splendor! What awe! What truth! The Lord asked me to see that same beauty in Guatemala. This task is far more difficult. This task requires one to look through the filth, the garbage, and the stink to see that this is a part of our universal Church. The beauty and splendor of the Church encompasses all the world because the Lord God surrounds each beautiful heart and place in all the world. 
This means we are to attempt the same. We are to let the Lord bring us to the ends of the earth so that He may use us to bring his love. This is the change that I believe is happening in my heart. I am seeing the value of living outside of oneself, which is a microcosm of Christ’s selfless act on the cross. I have no doubt that every young Christian on this trip is transforming as well.
Today, May 20th, we were able to visit the place where Fr. Stanley Rother was killed. Shot by the Guatemalan government in the 80’s for standing up against genocide. It was a powerful moment as we all prayed and asked to give everything to the Lord, even our very lives.
Photo of Stanley Rother in Santiago Atitlan Church
Tyler Frohlich
Images of Guatemala
Yesterday was our last full day in Santo Tomas la’ Union. This week has been so good yet so difficult. I am thankful for all that has been good yet bothered by the poverty and suffering I see here. As this is my last Headlights trip I am leading at Carroll I don’t know if I will return here again. This week I have experience moments where I could see myself wanting to come back because of the relationships I have formed here (despite language differences) and the commitment of those who serve here but again moments where what I experience here is difficult and I do not feel a strong desire to return to Guatemala. This is the third group I have worked with to travel to Santo Tomas and probably in total about 55 Carroll students and several images formed in my mind.
Yesterday before we left the mission I asked the students to share what images they think will most strongly remain with them. 
The answers ranged from the beauty in the faces of the Mayan people and the beauty in the landscape of Guatemala to remembering how little people get by with here and the garbage that is on the streets. It is hard to know in just a week how this trip will continue to affect the way we all look at violence, poverty, hunger, immigration, health care and suffering in the world. My hope is that the images that stay with us form the choices we make, the prayers we offer for others, and the professions we commit our lives to.
As a group we have also spent time reflecting on the way we (as Americans) are viewed by the people we encounter. Traveling together as a group of 16 Americans it is hard to remain subtle in our movements through the villages and towns. I am thankful that overall we have been welcomed at each place we visited however a few students have talked about how when we are stared at it is a bit unsettling. We are not use to being a minority or being the outsiders. One image I will not forget is seeing an American flag hanging on a clothes line in a house near the coffee co op we visited. I want to believe that our country is appreciated for what is good however I also see what we have given to this country that is destructive. I am also bothered that we have been so welcomed here yet Guatemalans living in our own country are predominately undocumented and not protected by the freedoms America promises.
All of these images remind me of the complexity of life in Guatemala. When I leave here on Wednesday I will not forget the noise of the city of Santo Tomas, the sound of Mango’s falling from the tree onto the roof above me, the giant spider I shared a shower with for several days, the almost unbearable humidity, 
our friend Diego, the generosity and kindness of the people we encountered, the beggars who stopped by the mission to ask for money, sipping a Gallo’ on the patio, or the stoic nature of the people who live high up in the mountains.
I am also thankful for Guatemala for giving me more insight into where my own journey in life will lead. As I finish my time at Carroll and prepare to move to Kansas City to live and work with the Sisters of Charity I hope my experience here continues to remind me that what I need in life is not things but relationships with others and the courage to trust that my own life is on the path God has intended.
I will miss these students deeply but I am thankful for the time I have spent with them here and inspired by the way they have entered into this experience and embraced the complexity. Guatemala, for me, is a place where joy and laughter have met suffering and where simply coming and experiencing life here is not nearly enough. I pray that all of these images stay with me and that I continue to live my own life recognizing the complexity and desiring to work for change where I can.
Peace,
Colleen
Monday Update
Hello!
It is Monday and we are in Panajchel. We got here late yesterday and enjoyed a little time for shopping and eating dinner. A couple of the guys tried a cheeseburger and what they found was they should have stuck with the local food. Still though, I appreciated their enthusiasm to hope for the best.
We will be here until sometime tomorrow and then go on to Guatemala city. I hope to post more reflections for the blog later today as our time here is more relaxed.
Peace,
Colleen
Empowering Women
This morning, after a not so pleasant night of unsettling food from the mountain villages yesterday, we had the opportunity to look at and purchase weavings done by women who lived in some of the villages up in the mountains. These weavings are truly a piece of art. I was amazed to see how colorful and how much detail was put into each piece. After saying goodbye to my fellow Amigos and Amigas as they headed out to play another game of soccer, I was able to learn more about the individual pieces that I was buying for my family and friends back home. Ana, who is a Sister here at the mission, works with the women from some of the poorer villages and is able to set up what we would call individual savings accounts for each of the women, in case they need money for their children or other needs. She explained to me that one of the coin purses I had picked out was done by a thirteen-year old girl, who was the daughter of one of the woman who regularly does some of the weavings. Ana said that the coin purse I had picked out was the girl’s first piece that she had ever done. 
Putting that story to the coin purse instantly made it much more personal. Ana told me about another purse that I had picked out, which had been done by a woman who had fled from her village with her daughter. She did this in order to escape her husband, who would often abuse her with his machete. She left with almost no possessions and when she ran out of money, she stopped at a town where she was fortunate to meet a man who was associated with the Mission. This lead her to meeting Ana and the Mission was able to loan her money to get her started doing her own work. After hearing these stories and learning about the work Sister Ana does, I am not only excited to give these gifts to people back home, but also support something that truly benefits the women here.
Until next time ☺
Hayley
A Visit to Pakaman
Today was our day to visit a high mountain Mayan village. The sixteen of us Carroll folks, along with Sheila and our amazing drivers, Cerillo and Chico, piled into two four-wheel drive vehicles at 7:40 a.m. and headed up-up-up into the mountains to attend mass with the people in the village of Pacaman.
First, let me tell you about getting there: When I say Cerillo and Chico are amazing drivers, I mean it. They wrestled the wheel for two hours as we bumped over incredibly rocky, washed out, and winding switchbacks to deliver us to this remote village perched on a hillside way up, literally, in the clouds. Half of us rode standing in the back of a truck—the usual mode of transportation here. The other half rode inside a jeep. We all pitched and rocked as the vehicles crawled the 40km from Santo Tomas to our destination. We climbed out about half a mile away from the village.
As we walked the last part of the road, we could look up hill or down hill onto tidy corn fields, divided into sections by fences made from poles which, stuck into the ground right next to each other, sprout leaves from the tops. The distant backdrop to these patchwork fields is the vegetation-covered volcanic mountain, where fog hovers pretty much all the time. We passed by goats with tiny kids, garden patches of blossoming peas, and an assortment of small dwellings, also set into the hillside. Some had wood and thatched roofs, some were made of corrugated tin sheets attached to poles, and a very few were bright-colored stucco. Smoke from cooking fires comes out of the space between walls and roof. They are separated by the same kind of dense fences. Most have packed dirt yards, with maybe a flowering bush. We also passed by a number of Packman’s residents—men or boys carrying wood or a machete, girls and women dressed in their traditional cortex—a mid-calf “cut” of dark cloth that they wrap around as a skirt and secure with a bright belt—and bright embroidered blouses. As we passed by, they stopped to look. Sheila told us groups like ours rarely came up this far to visit (the long bumpy ride is not an incentive!). Father Kevin only gets up there every several months to say Mass—the last time was in February of this year.
Soon, the number of people increased, and we were pointed to the church. Outside the small stucco building, a crowd of people had gathered. The colors are what strike me first. Black hair, eyes and brown skin are set off by the heavy pink, red, orange, and green embroidery on their shirts and shawls. And so many children! So there are always big eyes, big or shy smiles, and fidgeting. The area outside the church was packed with people. As we approached, they opened up a path for us. Fr. Kevin told us a spot had been saved at the front of the sanctuary. We moved inside and headed for the front. As we passed all those people, I got a lump in my throat—their chance to attend mass with Fr. Kevin is, as I said, rare. Besides, he was doing a number of baptisms at today’s Mass. And probably a third of those who wanted to attend were left peering in from the outside. I felt pretty sure that they should have the front row seats at their mass. Still, I imagine that giving them to us was their way of honoring the Mission by extending hospitality to us.
My favorite part of mass was the constant hum of kid sounds—lots of tiny babies there for the baptism, plus the many other children attending. They also moved in and out from the front area of the Church throughout the service, watching this bunch of big, pale people who were apparently special guests today. Nobody made them sit still. And many people were standing, so the kids wound their way through the crowded aisles—intrigued for a bit with us, and then onto something else. I also loved the music—sung in K’iche and accompanied by an accordion (played by Mission musician Pedro) and a bass guitar. I also loved sharing the sign of peace, and the varied responses to our handshakes. Some of the men came across the whole room to shake hands with all of us. A few of the women responded warmly, others more gingerly to our extended hands.
As soon as Mass was over, the people at the back set up a long table with chairs and set out lunch for us all. Rice, beans, chicken, and big baskets filled with hot tortillas. We sat down to eat, while many of the residents stood in groups a few yards away and watched. The food was delicious. After we finished, we moved out of the church—there was another high mountain mass to attend in another hour, at another village. I asked a few people if they would like me to take their picture. Some retreat, others engage happily. After I take a shot, I show them the picture, and they often giggle at their images. But then, some Pakaman residents own their own cell phones with cameras, so for them this is old news.
Really, I don’t know how to process the mix of thoughts and feelings that arise during our encounters with these Mayan people, in their home place, high up in these volcanic mountains. We stare at each other—the basic desire to do so makes simple sense to me. They are visually beautiful people—that’s one reason I want to look. And we are different, in so many ways—in our appearance, in what we do in our daily lives—that’s another reason to look. Differences intrigue us. If we were all kids, it might be just as simple as that.
But there are other dynamics that make this more complex, and that make this exchange somewhat uncomfortable for me—especially when they displace themselves for us and honor us by giving us space and food from limited resources. They appear so generous—we could learn from how much they give of resources that are scarce. But to conclude there, as valid as it might be, seems too simple. Perhaps our status as U.S. citizens courts a particular kind of favor that we should consider more critically; as we also see where our influence here is less than positive. After discussing this with several other students, we concluded that our encounters with other people should begin by acknowledging their complexity. We want to meet these people and interact with and learn from them, but this only touches the surface of knowing who they are. We need to resist over-simplifying our understanding of them in any way. It’s too easy to let our own “ideas” about them replace the complexity of their individual and their collective lives in ways.
Kay Satre
Carroll Martyrs No More
It has been a long-standing tradition for the Carroll College group to play futbol against the Clinica Maxena team. As you read from Hannah and Jacob, we as a group went into the match pretty confident, while others had their doubts (aka Colleen Dunne and Father Marc). To give you a little background, the last Carroll group, three years ago, lost with a score of “a lot” to zero. From the starting whistle, on foreign turf, we had our backs against a wall. Within one minute, Clinica Maxena delivered its first strike and the score began to look like a repeat from games past. 
While Colleen’s face turned smug, Ryan (our goalie) blocked the next 700 shots, Jenessa took out half of Guatemala’s ankles, James took out his own and the Carroll Saints proved they would not fall with out a fight. Within a minute left in the half, Carroll was up 3-2 and Kristen was so excited that her arms levitated a little to far from her body and ended up getting a handball in the goalie box. Despite Ryan’s best efforts, the Clinica Maxena tied up the game 3-3 with a penalty kick, ending the half. Carroll pulled away the second half to clinch the victory with a final score of 8 to 6. Sheila, the director of Clinica Maxena, returning to her alma mater, traded her old Clinica Maxena jersey in for the new powerhouse, Carroll College.
It would be impossible to pick an MVP of the game because each and every one stepped up and played their hardest. It was a great bonding experience working together and having fun… and winning. While this was just a soccer game, it was a beautiful way to break differences between our cultures and join one another on common ground. While there are obvious differences and barriers between our cultures, it is within the experiences that transcend beyond us, as individuals, that we are bound to one another’s humanity. It is within experiences, such as this simple soccer match or in sharing something much deeper in the Eucharist, that we find ourselves brothers and sisters in Christ.
David and Matt H
Traveling Into The Mountains
Hello!
I am sorry we have not posted anything today but it has been a long day. In just a quick post I want to say everyone is doing well, other than being really tired. We spent most of today traveling high up into mountain villages on bumpy roads. We left at 8 AM and didn’t return util later in the afternoon.
Tomorrow we have more soccer and time with the parish youth group and it will be our last full day in Santo Tomas before we leave for Panajchel on Sunday. Right now David and Matt H are working on a blog giving all of the details of yesterday’s soccer game, be ready for exciting stuff! Kay also has a blog ready but she has asked me to edit it first — since she was my writing teacher at Carroll I am nervous for the task.
Please continue to pray for this group. This is a really difficult trip that is hard on the body and the mind, we have been so lucky to not have any one get sick though James did have to get his foot x rayed today (it’s fine thankfully). The days and nights have been hot and humid and we are all feeling tired and sore from so much soccer and traveling around. In the end though, having this experience is an amazing blessing!
Peace,
Colleen
Cafe’
This James (a.k.a Diago) – speaking to you with my foot covered with ice after playiing today’s game!
Today I wanted to reflect on the visit to the coffee co- op.
Being a coffee snob most of my life, I was excited to finally be able to see how the coffee bean makes it to your mug in the morning. As Many people don’t understand the back -breaking work it takes to harvest the beans off one plant during a typical harvest season. One coffee bean plant produces roughly five pounds of beans and do the local workers pick hand. 
The coffee co-op Nahuala we visited today is a certified fair-trade/organic coffee. Which means that most of the profit is put back into the community to support clean water, support the local school, better wages for the farmers etc. I have known little about the impact fair-trade coffee and its impact it has on the community that surrounds it. I was amazed on how much fair trade coffee has an impact on a community in Nahuala. We learned that the profits generated helped build a small library to distribute books to the students nearby. I was touched on how much coffee can help a small community like Nahuala. This was truly a blessing to experience today ( with many more to come).
Thanks again for following our blog!
– JAMES TEMPLE
Asuncion Reflecion
This is the youngest child back to blog again. I’m going to go a little out of order and reflect on something that happened yesterday (the day before the big soccer game). After playing the school kids in soccer and basketball, we got to celebrate mass with them. Everything was spoken in Spanish except for the music—it was in K’iche. We had a quick tutorial on how to sing in K’iche, which is a pretty difficult language to follow along with and speak. (I don’t know if we have told you, but K’iche is the native Mayan language spoken by the people here. For most, Spanish is their second language.) The music was my favorite part of my mass experience at the la Asuncion school. The children and teachers sing with such loud, full voices that are filled with excitement, joy, and passion. 
The singing during this mass is much different than any mass I have gone to in the United States; it was faster paced and very motivating. Their singing made me want to sing louder than I ever had at church before and I didn’t even know what I was singing or how to sing it! I thought their responses throughout the mass were much louder and assertive than back home too. Their overall involvement during the mass just made me excited to be there and excited to be in the presence of God and Jesus Christ. They got me excited to embrace my faith and inspired me to be more interactive and confident with how I express and share it with others. It was truly a blessing to celebrate mass with these students. I have to go change for the big soccer game! Talk to you later and I hope we will be able to bring you good news after our game(s)!
Nate Kavanagh
The Big Day
Morning of “The Game”
Yake (aka Jacob) and Hannah here! It’s the morning of the game we’ve all been waiting for. The day we prove Father Marc wrong. A day that will live in infamy. It’s day that we will beat the Guatemalan’s in soccer.
But, in all seriousness, we are really excited for this game. We’ve found this is more than just a sport – it’s a game that transcends the barriers of language and culture. Once the ball is in play, we’re no 
longer the Americans and the Guatemalans. We’re all just a group of people having fun. Since most of us speak very little Spanish and definitely not a word of K’iche (except “ick’ex”, which means moon, month, and actually we have no idea), it’s been wonderful to bond and communicate with the people of this culture through soccer, the beautiful game.
At 10am, we are off to visit the coffee co-op up in the mountains. Some of you may be lucky enough to taste some of this coffee once we’re home! After the coffee tour, we’re visiting a public school, which will give us some good perspective on the differences between the private school of Ascuncion and the public school system here in Guatemala. After a glorious six kilometer truck ride, which are always fun, the Guatemalans plan to fatten us up with a traditional barbeque. The “kind gesture” is actually a ploy to slow us down on the field. Yes, we have intimidated them. Since this is our third soccer match of the week we are feeling confident in our skill and teamwork. If you’re lucky, Colleen will be streaming the game live so you can experience the victory along with us. Tune in to ESPN6 Latino.
Love to everyone back home. We miss you and are praying for you often.
J and H
P.S. We don’t know how much more we can take of this rooster.
Carroll College Campus Ministry 