Work Hard, Play Hard

Good afternoon all,

This past week was the definition of Dad’s favorite saying, “work hard, play hard.” The only difference here was that we played hard first, and worked after. A fundamental mistake Dad never would allow.

Fr. Bernie, Matt and I traveled north into El Petén. It is the largest department in Guatemala and directly above the department we reside in, Alta Verapaz. El Petén as a region has a tarnished reputation for its high level of drug trafficking and notorious narco-airstrips in the middle of the jungle, but it is also beautiful country and I see why the drug traffickers like is so much!

We stayed at the cabin of Raul, who is the owner of several radio stations throughout Guatemala and a very close friend of Fr. Bernie’s. We have become close friends with him during our time here. His cabin is on Lago de Petén Itza. The lake is extremely large and relatively unpopulated. The actual cabin consists of five cabanas and an abundance of hammocks. Very nice.

Over our three-day weekend at Raul’s, we spent a lot of time fishing, which was absolutely great. I caught my first blanco, said to be the best tasting fish in all of Guatemala. We spent one of the days traveling to near by Yaxha, a large Mayan ruin site similar to Tikal. It was absolutely amazing and would recommend it to anyone coming to Guatemala. Throughout all of this, mind you - I was traveling with 50 to 72 year old men (Raul brought three other friends as well), we drank Scotch. I feel the reputation we former college students have for binge drinking is an unfair stereotype. We never drank that much at a given time on this trip to El Petén, but we would do it for the entire day! And I am pretty sure that is the textbook definition of binge drinking? You’re probably thinking I need to grow up and learn how “men” do it, but WOW. Each day started with an “abierto sus ojos” which means not exactly word for word but, “eye-opener.” As soon as you’d finish, they would inform you that you have TWO eyes, that is to say, here is your second glass. So, for three days straight, I had a minimum of two glasses of Scotch running through my body BEFORE 7:00 am…Not the worst thing in the world I suppose!

On Sunday night as we drove home and I reflected upon our trip, it was absolutely an amazing experience – but in the same vein, I was ready to get back to work.

Vikings lost the same night. They are good at ripping your heart out when you think the game is won.

Back in Cobán, we got to work first thing Monday morning. We had thousands and thousands of articles of clothing that needed to be organized and distributed. Matt and I spent the entire week working on this project. We brought clothes to a couple local churches, sent clothing with sacerdotes (priests) to the aldeas, visited the hospital with 12 rice bags filled with children’s clothes and finally prepared the rest to go with us to the aldeas Salvador Chitzol and Rio Palmeras this next week. We haven’t calculated the exact number, but several hundred people have received clothes throughout this last week. A very fulfilling week of work.

I was talking with my dad this past week about how you become desensitized about things that used to catch your attention. Just read my earlier blogs for examples – they are numerous. Even though I have been here only 5 short months, I feel I have been exposed to quite a bit and not much “sticks out” anymore. But, there was one incident last week that was a quiet reminder of the differences between a country like the States and a third world country battling various degrees of poverty. When I was in the hospital delivering baby clothes, I was speaking with a nun outside the room of a man whom had obviously died. This wasn’t a real problem with me, as I was in a hospital and I’ve seen many dead people down here. But, when I returned with another load of clothes, he was gone. When I was leaving the hospital, I saw him again. His family had arrived in a cab, six of them in all, and they were attempting to lay his erect body across their laps in the back seat of the cab to take him home or to the church or wherever. This was an “eye-opener”, but in a very serious way. The experience was very surreal for one reason or another, I can’t seem to explain. It just felt so foreign compared to how I’ve experienced death and the aftermath in the States.

On a brighter note, we are welcoming two guests this evening from St. Patrick’s Parish in Edina, including their priest Fr. Gregory. They will be working on a water purification project for a couple days here. I look forward to meeting them and working with them this week.

Happy birthday Kevy! I hope the fishing/snowmobiling trip went well.

Take care,

PD