February 2000

Returning to Guatemala

Dear Friends

The leaving and returning has always been one of the hardest parts of my work as I traveled between NC and Guatemala and it was no different this time. I left NC on a cold snowy morning in January and arrived in Guatemala to a balmy evening. But the changes in weather were not the hardest part of the leaving and returning. In Guatemala it is as though I have to shift gears, slow down; if not, I find myself out of step with everyone here and missing some important moments. So I am "back home" in Guatemala, washing clothes by hand in cold water, adjusting to the lack of things I take for granted in NC, using the time riding the bus to think about people around me, to wonder, to pray; trying to adjust my speed of living so I will be able to live the abundant life of God’s people here.

Too many things!

As I prepared to leave NC, I had to pack up my "earthly belonging" so they could be stored in Brevard; what a job! I tried to throw out things I had not used, give away other things, but still I found myself surrounded by boxes and storage containers and suitcases full of things. When I arrived in Guatemala, I found I had to do the same thing because the house where I had been living at the Seminary is being remodeled so Debbie and Harry Horne and Gretchen Wolbrink, the Young Adult Volunteer and I had to pack up all our things and move to new locations. Once again I found myself surrounded, weighed down by things! I thought about the truth of Kierkegaard’s story in which the rich man in his fine carriage surrounded by lanterns could not see the starry heavens as he traveled at night, while the poor man on his horse that same night had a clear view of the beauty of the heavens. I would like to be more like that poor man!

Daily bread

The words of the Lord’s Prayer, "give us this day our daily bread," always take on new meaning for me in Guatemala. Here many people have no guarantee that there will be "daily bread," which for most people is in the form of tortillas and black beans. As I try to live alongside people here I am always keenly aware of our dependence upon God for all that we have. Each day I give thanks for the rest of the night, for the promise of the new day, for the tortillas and black beans and eggs we are served for breakfast, for the safe arrival of the bus at my destination. Along with God’s people, I give thanks that one more time we can gather for worship; that one more time God has provided "our daily bread."

Laughter

As I begin my new work in Guatemala, I am renewing many friendships with brothers and sisters in Sur Occidente and Suchitepequez, but I am also traveling to new places, meeting people in other presbyteries for the first time. In these new situations I find that it is often laughter that brings us together, and most of that laughter comes as I try to pronounce new words, new names and my tongue just will not quite roll around those words...and we laugh. Or people whom I have not met laugh at my "funny accent"; (those in Sur Occidente and Suchitepéquez are accustomed to my "funny accent"). The children look wide eyed at me, trying to figure out who this strange woman with streaks of white hair and glasses could be, and when I try to engage them in conversation, they inevitably have to suppress their smiles. The laughter and smiles and snickers are not directed at me; no, we laugh together and always in the laughter we are brought closer together.

Ministry of women

There are lots of women like Juana and Angela, Dina, Yolanda, Sonia and Ester in Guatemala. Women who are comfortable being "up front," leading the songs, reading Scripture, praying, or preaching as a part of worship. Women who regularly attend workshops on the Bible, education, health. Women who have received a formal education. Women who have been ordained to serve as elders in their churches. When the Guatemalans think of "ministry of women" these are the women and the ministry they most often think of, and surely this is an important part of the ministry of women. As I enjoy being and working with women like Juana, Dina, and Sonia, I also think about so many other women in the Presbyterian Church here...Elizabeth, Esperanza, Carmen, and a multitude of nameless women who I believe have a ministry every day in their homes, with their families, in their communities, with their neighbors. Women who rise early each morning to take the corn to the mill to be ground; some of whom must gather firewood for the daily chore of starting the cooking fire; who wash their families’ clothes in cold water, hanging them out to dry or spreading them across the grass and who do not even dream of such things as a dryer. Women who bear and care for children day and night with little opportunity to learn parenting skills that might help. My dream is that this multitude of nameless women might begin to see that they have a ministry and gifts from God to fulfill this ministry. Their ministry will not put them, "up front;" they will probably never be elected to serve in any official position in the church, but God has given them a ministry of love and service in the name of Jesus to their families and neighbors. Thanks be to God for each of these nameless women whose name is known to God.

The egg lady

Perhaps it was because I was engaged in conversation with the man sitting next to me that I saw the Egg Lady. My seatmate and I (this was a pullman bus so there were only two of us in the seat) had talked about how to read the Bible, after I told him I was a pastor and he said he was a new convert to the Christian faith. We then began talking about why I wanted to live in Guatemala rather than in the U.S. (which for many Guatemalans seems like the Garden of Eden). It was then that I saw her, the "Egg Lady." We were nearing the stop where she would get off the bus when this women, in her traje (indigenous dress) began gathering cartons full of eggs that she had pushed under the seats; balancing several cartons on her head, she enlisted the assistance of other passengers to get all the eggs to the front of the bus where the ayudante (helper) helped her disembark with her precious cargo. "This is why I live in Guatemala I said to my seat mate!" He did not quite understand (not from my lack of Spanish, but from this strange idea) so I explained. The Egg Lady represents for me so many women and men in Guatemala who must struggle each day to have enough money to buy food for their children and other family members; these are people who live "the real life." This woman had gone to Coatepeque, bought cartons of eggs and was taking them home to sell to her neighbors; with the little profit she would make, she could buy food for her family. For me this is real life, where people are concerned for the basic things: food to eat, clothes to wear, education, health care; they do not think in terms of access to a fully equipped hospital or having a large wardrobe or eating exotic dishes from different countries or going to graduate school. The real life involves what one needs to life the abundant life God promises to us.

Rev. Ellen Dozier

The 2000 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, page 236