White Christmas...

I am just wrapping up a short weekend "vacation" at Tranquility Bay (a resort a 10 minute walk down the beach from The Finca) before heading into what will be a very busy Christmas season and New Year here. There are a number of animals here which for me is a great therapy. There are 2 monkeys (Chimi and Cheetah) 2 "guard" dogs who you can see napping in the sun, a kitten who enjoys rough housing with the monkeys, and a couple horses.

While online here I've heard quite a bit about the snowstorm hitting Minnesota just in time for Christmas. I hope everyone enjoys it, but stays off the roads for a while. I am glad that Deirdre is getting snow just in time for her first Christmas back home after serving her 2 years here at the Finca. To all my meteorologist friends back home... if anyone can pull a few strings, talk with mother nature and old man winter to give us a white Christmas here that would be great. The other week in "winter" school we talked about weather with the kids. I spent a lot of time talking about snow because it is something completely foreign to them. I drew a snowman on the chalkboard. I asked the kids what was needed to build a snowman, and many actually knew the basics of hat, scarf, carrot, and button eyes. It was clear that this topic has come up from past missionaries. Thankfully, Amanda (one of the missionaries who just left after 2 years) left me a container of this stuff called "insta-snow". It's a white powder that you add water to and it expands into a fluffy snow life substance. I gave them each a clump and told them to roll it into a ball. At that point it was clear each had also heard about snowball fights... Aaargh! Once I got them settled down I explained we were going to make our own miniature snowman. You can see him here as Dorfa holds him in her hands.

I know though that despite wanting a White Christmas I am being very spoiled by the weather here. Right now we are in the heart of rainy season, but (crossing my fingers) the rain may just be taking a rest. The last 3 days have been brilliantly sunny postcard type days here. On Friday we were even able to take the winter school kids (who had behaved that week... only 10 of 16) for a swim. Check out some of the pics.

I hope you all have an amazing, blessed advent, Christmas and New Year! Remember if you ever need an escape from all the snow you know where to find me!

Love,

Katherine

P.S. I also just uploaded a number of videos from our time in Guatemala. Check it out on the right hand side of the page ---->
It may also include some old videos of my Campus news stories since I haven't figured out how to get it to play only new ones. If you're really bored or just looking for a laugh or to reminsce you can watch those too. I hope to post more videos as I have time, but please understand the limited time and internet coupled with a slow connection makes this difficult. 

Spirituality as an EKG

I’m stealing the title for this blog from a friend because it is very fitting for this past week (and life in general) at The Finca. The highs and lows of one’s heartbeat are of course normal and completely healthy and the same is true for life. Without the ups and downs of life we’d be faced with a flat line. Of course anyone who has seen any medical drama can tell you flat lining is not exactly good news. It is at that point in our lives when things seem to be going smooth that God sometimes needs to shock us back to the reality of life. As for the times in life when your “heart” seems to be skipping a beat or racing out of control that’s when we need a thorough exam. Who better to check in with than the one who created you, the one who knows every bit of your being, the ultimate healer Christ.

Thinking back over the past 2 weeks I can clearly see this applied to my life. Thinking back to mid November when I had to plan my first Quincinero fiesta (for Wilmer’s 15^th birthday). As with most celebrations up to this point my first thought is… I don’t know how to do this. However, with large amounts of help from my Finca family though I learned with highs and lows. With less than a week to go before his birthday I am told to talk to one of the sisters here about planning his quincinero. Life’s heartbeat hit a low when thinking of how little time that was, but went back up when I realized that I could make this a very memorable day for him. So I talk to Sor (sister) Elda and I’m thinking, “Great! She’s at least from Honduras and will have some cultural guidance.” Well, not exactly. The first thing she says to me is, “I’ve never been to a quincinero (for boys) only quicineras (for girls). Typically it’s not celebrated for boys except for here at The Finca and I’ve never been here for one.” Heartbeat…. Low. We both went on making a general check list and general plans of what the party should be. I check with Wilmer as to what he wants for his meal, remind to pick a girl for his waltz, figure out who he is going shopping with for his special outfit, decorations etc. Of course most of this would change just a few hours after I thought it was figured out… a series of life ups and downs. Eventually it all came together. We had a beautiful Mass, supper outside (the rain actually held off… definite high!), and a dance for hours.

Earlier that same week was Thanksgiving. From the Mass to football to dinner it was all amazing. Just when I’m thinking how great it’d be to spend time with family back home God gave me a little but much needed jolt. During Mass the priest broke out his English translation during the consecration. I’d forgotten what it was like to hear the Mass (or even just a part of it) said in a language I fully comprehend. I then got to spend a bit of time with kids who wanted to practice a dance for Wilmer’s fiesta. After that it was time for football… real American football. Well flag football and on a soccer field, but still priceless. Just as we’re “warming up” the skies opened up. At first this was a low thinking that the game would not go on. I was wrong! We played in all the glorious rain and mud barefoot. We teamed up pilgrims vs. Indians and began with a rendition of the national anthem as only could be song by a patchwork squad of missionaries. A definite high!

Team huddle… imagine if you will that most of us are women and know very little about American football, but there are 1 or 2 guys per team with great plans for the perfect play. However, those plans must also be disseminated in Spanish so all our missionaries can understand. The one clear thing was that it was a free for all. Somehow in the chaos I ended up open yelling, “Ashley, here!” and actually caught the ball, but then lost my flag. Next down, same thing but no one stopped me. Touchdown!! We (the pilgrims) went on to win.

Following the football game it was time for Harry and me to make enough green bean casserole for over 100 people. Cooking for that size crowd is quite the feat, but with the incredible organization and planning of Erin Lucia it all came together. Around 4:30 all of our invitees showed up. This mostly consisted of our “watchis” (security guards) and their families, the women’s group (neighbors), our teachers and a handful of others. Seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces was another high.

            The only low really for Thanksgiving was that I didn’t get to spend it with my family back home. That was made up for though when I got to call home the following Saturday (my Dad’s birthday). Not only did I get to talk with him and my mom, but also briefly with my high school choir teacher who happened to be nearby. Then I got to call my sister and brother for a bit. I’d hoped to catch them while they were still at my Grandma’s house so the phone could be passed around, but they’d left. It was really great to hear Liz’s voice again. We hadn’t talked since her wedding in August! I also got to wish my brother’s girlfriend a happy birthday.

            Amid the happiness of that phone call I learned that a gal I know from high school lost her husband of only a year in Afghanistan. I know the sadness I felt cannot even equal a drop in the flood of emotions she has endured. Little did I know at the time though her husband was also from my hometown. That only made me wish all the more that I could be there for them and their families. My prayers and those of my missionary community are with them.

            This past week has been another roller coaster of emotions as well. December, 1^st we said our goodbyes to the departing class of missionaries. They’d been here 2 years and one for 3 years. Although my class had only lived with them for 2 months it is still difficult to see them leave. Perhaps though the hardest thing is seeing our kids so sad when the missionaries leave. Some pretend not to be, others are openly teary, others are angry and still others will bury their feelings until a final straw breaks their composure. Please continually pray for all of our children here. It is not an easy time for many of them.

Not all times this past week were sad though. In fact there were many entertaining memorable moments. During TEMA (religious ed.) the kids in each of the houses had various skits, songs or dances for the departing missionaries. Whether it was Juli and Riccy hosting the night dressed up in 90s track suites with rocker hairstyles, the littlest girls singing a precious church song or the house 5 boys arguing about what dance steps they’re suppose to do next. No matter their act it was clear that each was showing their love for the missionaries.

I was given a very special project to work on for the “oldies” as a going away gift. I got to record a video message from each of the kids to give to any of the missionaries they wanted. As with most projects, I took a lot more time than I expected. However it was totally worth it to be able to give that little piece of love from the kids to the oldies. I pray too that it can help provide a small bit of closure for those on both ends. While the messages may be hard for some to watch right away I hope in time it can give that sometimes necessary reminder of the incredible impact left here for both the children and us.

So remember that spirituality is like an EKG. Don’t let you life flat line, embrace the highs and lows because it is how we know we are fully alive. Don’t forget when life seems to be skipping a beat or racing out of control take even just a moment for a check up with your creator. 

Thanksgiving

I hope you all have a very blessed Thanksgiving this week. Below is the article I wrote for our upcoming newsletter. Those of you who have donated will be receiving The Farm of the Child Newsletter either in your mailboxes or email in the coming days.

I hope this newsletter finds you and your loved ones gathered together at the start of this holiday season. By this point you’ve likely just stuffed yourselves with enough “appetizers” to constitute a day’s worth of meals, plenty of turkey, green bean casserole (or hot dish as we Minnesotans properly call it) and plenty of pumpkin or pecan pie. Don’t worry though if there were too many options for your plate because Grandma won’t let you leave empty handed. As you read, this we at The Farm are enjoying quite the Thanksgiving feast as a way of sharing a bit of our own culture and all that we are grateful for with our incredible family here. Back home I imagine (at least my family) is about to fall into a turkey induced coma, but to ward that off, some will find themselves in front of the football game, some will clear the table for an hour long game of Phase 10 or Farkle while others will give in to the need for a long winter’s nap.

For many across the nation the clock is ticking down to the midnight shotgun start to the Christmas shopping season. Actually, let’s be real… the most hard core door busters have already hit the online sales and taken advantage of the shops that no longer close on this day of giving thanks. It brings back memories of “people watching” at the Mall of America on Black Friday. That, my friends, is true madness in its finest form. This year I can gladly say all of this very light heartedly and very much removed while better reflecting on what Thanksgiving truly means.

            As a “newbie” here at The Finca it is pretty easy to see all for which I can be thankful. The second we stepped out of the car at The Finca we were instantly adopted into this huge family without a second thought. I am thankful for each of the children who without even knowing my name ran up and threw their arms around me. I am thankful for the community kids at school especially the one little boy who scowls because he doesn’t want me to be his new teacher, but then smiles, laughs and lets down that barrier when we start playing Bingo. I am thankful for late night theological debates, being lulled to sleep by the Caribbean crashing on the shore, and being so far out in the middle of nowhere that the moon and stars actually have a chance to be the brightest lights in the night sky.

            It should go without saying, but should never go unsaid that I am most grateful for my family and friends who are all so near and dear to my heart. I am so thankful for all those who have helped me decide to come here and continue to support all of us spiritually and financially. I am grateful for all the blessings bestowed on those I love this year and the hardships that make us stronger. That is only a beginning, but I hope on this Thanksgiving Day you too will take time to count your blessings.

            What would this article be though without hearing from our kids? I wanted to know what some of them are thankful for in the past year. Here’s what they had to say:

I am thankful for:

“For my life, for the entire Finca, for my entire family, my siblings, the new missionaries, and for everything.” – Rosa Elena, 9

“Food, our donors, my house, my family, the missionaries, our siblings, for The Finca because it gives us life.” – Cati, 7 & Seidy, 8

“Our donors, food, and God who cares for me.” – Brittani, 7

“For food that is given to us each day, good health, a tranquil home and for all God’s blessings.” – Nahomi, 13

“For life and being at The Finca.” – Darwin, 10

“For receiving good grades in school.” – Jose Manuel, 10

“For passing 4^th grade.” – Jose Pastor, 9

“For soccer, for having a home and family, for everything.” – Cesar, 14

“For my studies, for reaching my goal of being a soccer player.” – Duncan, 12

“I give thanks for my benefactors and pray that God blesses and keeps them.” – Dorfa, 10

“I am thankful for graduating 6^th grade this year, all the support of The Farm, education and the ways I am shown to love others.” – Jennifer, 12

“For food, a home, our friends and for seeing a new dawn.” – Nelsy, 12

“I am thankful to the Farm for teaching us about God” – Miriam, 14

“For having a new experience in Phase II, sharing my time with Mary Kate and Nils, and for being in a good school.” – Nelly, 17

I hope that amid the beginning of a hectic holiday season, your Thanksgiving is filled with lots of good food, friends, family and fun. Here at The Finca we continue to give thanks daily for each and everyone of you reading these articles, sharing our stories with friends and family, praying for and/or financially supporting the mission, and the millions of other seen and unseen ways you continue to support us. It is my hope that in giving thanks for all your blessings of the past year (and before you rack up any credit card debt this holiday season) you will keep in mind the needs of The Finca as well.

In the coming year I pray that God may bring you and yours many continued blessings as we prepare to celebrate Christ’s birthday. Never forget the true reason for the season!

Blessings,

Katherine Cross

A quick update

Things are going great here. Life is really starting to pick up. We´ve been at the Finca (Farm) for just about a month and are starting to take on more and more responsibilities. Starting Monday I have ëscualita (the equivalent of summer school for kids that need reinforcement) for an hour in the morning with the kids going into 1st and 2nd grade. I´ll have 7 kids for that. Most of them are from the surrounding community, but also a couple of the kids who live at The Finca. Then from 9:30 to 12:30 we have Winter School (for the younger kids) which is basically like summer camp since they don´t have school from November to February because it´s often too rainy. Winter school is just for our kids at The Finca. In the afternoon I am in charge of activities for the teenagers who in the morning are doing different jobs around The Finca. Some learn maintenance, some are shadowing in the clinic, some will help with winter school. It´s a lot to organize, but I´m enjoying it.

The language barrier is still tough, but getting better slowly. The other day I was in charge of watching the House 1 girls (6 girls all under the age 8) and none of them wanted to listen... then again my Spanish is terrible for trying to tell them things or understand what was being said. Either way though it was good because it was another chance to spend time with them and just get to know them better.

As I mentioned before it rains a lot right now. Usually a few times a day and is just always damp. Clothes take days to dry even when under an overhang. Keeping my feet dry is now a distant memory. Drying off from a shower is usually with a damp towel because it didn´t dry yet from 2 days ago. I say 2 days ago because taking a cold shower every day when everything is already damp and slightly chilly isn´t appealing. It does however give us plenty of chances to run in the rain and splash in puddles. Which can be fun when we just let go of being adults.

Yesterday we got a large semi trailer donation of desks and tables for the school, new mattresses for the kids (right now we all just have thick foam ¨mattresses¨), and a bunch of tile that will hopefully be used soon for various projects at The Finca.

It is strange to think of all the events like that or even the election which I am missing back in the states, but at the same time it is so relaxing to be quite removed and just know the minimum. For now though I should sign off since our ride will be leaving town in a half hour. You are all in my prayers and I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Love,

Kit

Simplicity

     Simplicity… it’s one of the pillars of the mission here at the Farm; more than that though it is the way of life. On many levels life here is very simple, in other ways we have a very long way to go. Here a few of the thoughts I had a few nights back as I jotted things down in my journal.

… So I’m sitting here on my bed that’s crammed into a room (measuring approximately 10x10) with 2 other beds bunked. My roommates and I share two 3 ft. high shelves and a night stand. The cement floor and faded yellow mortar walks would make any typical American think the life we have here is not only rustic, and simple but a huge downgrade.

      Even when I did live on my own in the states I found myself downgrading from a 1 ½ bedroom apartment w/bathroom, kitchen & living space to a basement where the “kitchen” was a bar and all appliances were plugged in. I had a “small” bedroom (nearly double the size of the one I sit in now) and a small bathroom with HOT water and even a fan that further heated the air for days when you just had to escape a Minnesota winter.

     That of course now seems ridiculous as I sit in a constant bath of humid air and can’t wait to take a cold shower. Cold being our only option, that is if we have running water at all. The back up option is the 20+ gallon bucket of stored rain water which has sat for days or weeks accumulating who knows what sorts of bacteria, bugs, and droppings of passing critters. Thankfully the one time we had to use that it had just rained so it at least seemed a little cleaner.

     I digress back to my 3^rd and final move before leaving the states. Forced out of my basement apartment I was graciously given an upstairs bedroom to rent in the house of a 93 year old man along with one of my friends. I knew then that move was preparing me for my move here. There was no internet unless I went to work or the library. Here the nearest internet (we can access) is a neighboring resort about a 10 minute walk down the beach or driving 20 minutes into town (if the rivers haven’t flooded the roads).

     This may all sound like life is really difficult, but so far it all really makes life a lot easier or at least simpler. Granted there will probably be days when all I want is to sit on a comfy couch, curl up in front of a fireplace as the snow falls outside and do nothing but mindlessly watch “Regis & Kelly” or technically “Kelly” and whoever they hired after I left the country. For now though I am embracing simplicity and enjoying the constant rumble of the Caribbean crashing ashore.

      The impetus for this stream of thought is an article I began reading the most recent “TIME” magazine (mailed to us as a birthday present for Kevin K.). The article entitled, “The Case for Optimism” by Bill Clinton state a statistic I’ve also recently read in the book “Enrique’s Journey”. That statistic states, “Half the world’s people live on less than $2 a day and a billion on less than $1 a day”. That statistic coupled with the reoccurring message in various religious texts of you cannot truly know the poor without being poor is really making me think about the great wealth we still are surrounded by as missionaries here at The Farm.

     We have 3 meals a day and often have enough for seconds. This is something I need to try pawning off more on the guys since they all tend to lose weight while here and the women tend to gain weight. Mostly this is because our diet is very heavy on starches and low on protein.

     We all have more than enough clothing even if we tire of the options. We all have beds and don’t have to share. While at times the mattresses may leave one dreaming of sleep numbers we have no right to complain. I’m told in past years that missionaries have given up their mattresses and slept on just the wooden slats. I don’t know yet that God is calling me to that, but he may be working on it.

     We even have the comfort of security which many families here don’t. We have a chain link fence with barbed wire and 24 hour security guards. We have an enormous community of support both right within the missionary house, but also the surrounding community and of course everyone back home.

     Returning to the idea that so many in this world live on $2 or less per day makes me really question how much we live on daily here per person. While it may not be a change everyone is called to I hope to at least be much more conscious of what and how I spend the “small” amount of money I am blessed with through donations.

First Impressions

10.10.12

My first views of Trujillo remain a sleepy blur. Not only was I waking after taking a pill for motion sickness, but we’d also been packed into a jeep luggage and eight people for a 3 hour drive through the beautiful mountainous countryside as the sun beat down baking us. I was quickly reminded of the days of driving my first car in which the only air conditioning was “manual” a.k.a. rolling down the windows. I have to say though I had it easy up front compared to my fellow missionaries who were crammed in the back of the Jeep with the luggage.

            We stopped in Trujillo (in town) for lunch at one of likely the few restaurants that have an air conditioned section. Alison treated us to a lunch of tortillas with beans & avocado or beans & eggs and smoothies using the money her mom sent. After cooling off for about an hour we piled back into the Jeep and headed out of town where the Farm awaited us.

            On the road in we passed by a sign for a “Nature Park”. It is just one sign of the Canadians and their money being used in an attempt to make the area a tourist trap. A small village of mostly Canadian retirees now floods the mountainside behind the clinic with a heavy yellow glow of electricity each night.

            Driving a bit further along the gravel road one can spot small timber or cinder block homes in small communities. Then we spot it. The first sign of the Finca is now a newly built tall security fence with rolls of barbed wire strung across the top. While it may give off the initial feeling of a compound it is truly for the safety of everyone here. Our Jeep approaches the main gate where one of our “watchies” is stationed to let us in.

            Just past the gate eagerly waiting in the shade is the group of children, fellow missionaries, sisters, and a variety of employees. Although I don’t know any of them yet I know immediately they are welcoming me into their family. Harrison stops the Jeep and we all pile out and are instantly surrounded by children. The littlest ones each hold a poster board with our names and greeting painted. I hear a half dozen energetically high pitched voices shouting my name, “Keeeeet, Keeeeet, Keeeeet!” Turning around there’s a sea of boys and girls only measuring about waist high and each wants to be the first to tackle you with the biggest hug.

            After a few minutes I spot one little girl very shyly looking my way as she holds on tight to one of the female missionaries. I’m told the little girl wants to meet me because we have the same name… more or less. She too is Katherine. I’ve since learned though it’s spelt Catherine and that she goes by Cati (Cah-tee). So far some of the kids call me Kit (or Keet) others stick to Katerin (the TH sound doesn’t really exist in Spanish).

            It’s now been more than 2 weeks (time is going unbelievably fast), and I’ve at least got down all the names of the other missionaries. Right now there are 19 of us living under one roof. Each bedroom averages 3 people. The bathroom is another story. Notice that bathroom is singular. Well, sort of. The women have one and the boys have one between the 4 of them which leaves 15 of us sharing 1 shower, 1 toilet, 1 sink and 1 mirror. (After December 1^st the total missionary count in the house drops to 15 when the 2^nd years head back to the states.) Between a strict cleaning schedule, a method of claiming your spot in the shower line by shouting “Quien se bano? Who is bathing?”, and a lot of patience somehow we all manage to keep from smelling too terrible.

            Life in the missionary house is very ordered,(despite the pictures which seems like everything is strewn about) but with this many people it’s easy to see why. Each meal and who is cooking it has a schedule. Cleaning of bathrooms and communal living areas is divided up as well. We’re told that twice a year the house is emptied and everything is scrubbed down. All that said, we still live on the beach and it’s a fact of life here that there is sand everywhere. I’ve found 3 things to be key in keeping my bed clean as possible as long as possible. First: leaving the plastic cover on the mattress to keep sweat from soaking in. Second: keep a rag next to your bed to brush/wipe off your feet before ever putting them on the bed. Lastly: Shower at night.

The first 2 weeks have been spent in one “charla/talk” after another in order to help us learn our way around life here. We had an orientation to the house which included learning about everything from how/when we get food to how to properly dispose of used toilet paper in the fire pit. There is also much emphasis put on correctly using the “pila” which is best described as a washbasin or sink. There are 2 pilas, one for washing clothes and one for washing dishes. The left side is deep and used to store water. Using a bowl you scoop water from there and pour it over your dirty clothes/dishes. The important thing is to never contaminate the stored water.

We’ve also learned about each of the possible job openings, spent time in the school, learned about the basics of religious life at The Finca and perhaps most importantly had several talks about social work. The most important of social work talks are still to come. We will be getting histories on each of the kids and talk about sexual abuse prevention/past incidents.

While I won’t and can’t talk specifics just know that almost all of our kids come from abusive backgrounds. Some have been abandoned, some are in fact orphaned, others parents are still around but unable to provide proper care for them. Some of the kids here are siblings, but some are also solo. The incredible thing is on most any day (a good day) you may never suspect anything from the giant smiles on their faces. Although their lives here at The Finca are much easier and their futures are brighter please continually pray for each of them. 

Early next week we should find out what our jobs are. There are two openings for social work, one for special education/English teacher, and one for math/computer teacher. At the moment I am partial to special ed. & English. We will also find out what our small jobs are. Some of them include leading boy/girl scouts, teaching swim lessons, coaching soccer, heading up the newsletter, photographer, events committee, personnel committee, leading women’s group, heading up the sponsor a child program, etc. I am hoping to take over the newsletter and be a photographer along with the events committee, the personnel committee or the sponsor a child program. Continue to pray for all of us as we discern our roles here.

The biggest struggle continues to be Spanish. For the most part I can get my point across when speaking, but understanding what is being spoken is a whole other story. Please continue to pray for all of us new missionaries that we learn quickly.

On another topic it’s been only about 3 weeks and I’ve had or heard about enough critter encounters to last me the rest of my time here. Starting with the smallest creepy crawlies is lice. Thankfully I have not yet had lice (knock on wood), but it seems to be only a matter of time. At least one missionary has it currently. They jokingly say it’s a right of passage. While at Mass the other weekend I spotted one of the little black bugs in the hair of one of our little girls. I’m told it’s a revolving door for the little girls in house one. Even if it is eradicated the girls will pick it up again at school from other kids in the community.

Moving up in size: ants. They are everywhere all the time and in endless varieties. During a retreat the other weekend I noticed dozens of the swarming for the bits of food dropped from our lunch table. At some point my foot wandered too close and before long my toes had a bright red itchy burning rash. Between ants and mosquitoes I’ve become a pro at not scratching things that itch knowing it will only get worse. That said the mosquitoes here don’t seem to be nearly as bad as back home. However, the rainy season has only just begun so I could be speaking too soon.

Jumping up in size is my worst fear, spiders specifically tarantulas. I’ve already had 2 encounters in the same day, but I’m pretty sure it was the same spider. As I’m told it was a “small” tarantula. Considering it was only slightly smaller than my palm I’d rather not encounter a “large” one. The first time it was hanging out on a wall next to a pile of shoes outside the guys’ bedroom. Likely those shoes were its home.

Later that night as I walked back to my bedroom I spotted it. I was only about 2 strides from letting out a very loud scream. Instead in a surprisingly calm voice I said, “Ehhhh No” and decided I would walk around to get into my room and hope it stayed away. My roommate Betsy heard me from the “sala/living room” and asked what was going on. I told her the tarantula had returned and was outside my door. She quickly said, “What? Wait, that’s my door!!” Just as quick she swept into action with a broom. With Kate’s assistance they corralled the critter out into the pouring rain.

The next critter to weigh in was a boa constrictor probably about 3 feet long. Thankfully it was dead. One of our maintenance employees found it and macheted its head off. For some reason he then felt the need to set it on our porch. Again I nearly stepped on it before noticing.

Not all my critter encounters have been creepy though. In the missionary house we have two pet turtles which are constantly trying to escape their enclosure or even the house. From time to time they are spotted by our watchies and returned home. We also have 2 dogs on the farm “Oso/Bear” and “Canela/Cinnamon”. Unfortunately both are likely flee covered so petting them beyond a pat on the head is risky.

Our first dinner here at The Finca we got a special treat of “garobo/lizard” meat. Add that to the list of animals that I wouldn’t ever think one could eat or should eat. As strange as it sounds it actually tasted just fine. A bit like… chicken. Cliché yes, but somewhat true. It’s hard to describe.

Now to the critters I have not personally seen. One night Harrison (missionary currently heading up maintenance) was swimming when he got stung by what we believe was a sting ray. It could have also been a jelly fish. I say that because when Emily, Laura and Kevin were in the water the other day they spotted one. Laura says the top actually brushed her hand. As anyone who has seen “Finding Nemo” knows it’s safe to touch the tops of jellies. I’m also told that you can step on the tentacles or touch the with your palm safely since the pours on the bottoms of your feet and palms are too small. It’s not a theory I’ll be testing. A little further out into the bay Laura says she spotted 2 more as well. Also in the water we found many dark brown sand dollars. It has us wondering whether all sand dollars are brown when alive and only white after dying. If anyone knows please let me know.

Laura also had her first "patient". Harrison got something stuck in his foot so she had to "operate" with a needle and tweezers. She was really into it!

We've also had plenty of time in these first 2 weeks to spend at the beach and spend time in prayer as we discern what jobs we want to take on. Here Kevin, Laura, and Emily are competing to see who can skip rocks the furthest.

For now though I will leave you with these first impressions of life here at The Finca. I hope to send blog updates as often as possible, but don’t be surprised or concerned if more than a month goes by. Definitely feel free to write me letters as well. I promise to personally correspond with anyone who writes me a letter. It may take weeks or even months since our mail system consists of sending letters with visitors from the states. Care packages can be sent as well, but know that it’s not always reliable. My address is:

La Finca del Nino

Katherine Cross

Apartado Postal #110

Trujillo, Colon

Honduras, Central America

Thank you for your continued prayers and support!

Blessings,

Katherine

Phase II

10.03.2012

This is the start of Day 3 at la Finca (The Farm). I don’t know when this will actually get posted though because we don’t have internet here. We have access if we can head into town or get a chance to head to “Tranquility Bay” a.k.a. T-Bay a resort about 10 minutes walk down the beach. To give you some perspective from now on I will attempt to always date my entry as to when I am writing it. However, the blog also adds the date as to when it was posted so don’t get confused by seeing two dates.

I digress… Laura, Kevin, Kiddissa, Emily and I arrived at la Finca after spending a few days in La Ceiba (Say-ba) which is a larger city further west along the coast. Ceiba has just about everything any large city in the states would have including a hospital, mall, movie theatre, fast food, and perhaps most vital… places with air conditioning! We definitely took advantage of that.

Ceiba is where Phase II of the farm exists. Phase II is the program for teens from the Finca that have passed the 9^th grade. It is the bridge to independent living. In general the teens that live at phase II are ages 16-18. For the most part once the kids turn 18 they are on their own. That’s not to say the Farm doesn’t support them, but they are no longer under the guardianship of The Farm.

Phase II is a bit different for each of the teens. For some it is finishing “high school” which usually comes not only with a diploma but also a certificate of training in a specific trade. For others phase II can be more like a work study. Once they “graduate” Phase II some go on to university, others work in various trades. The goal is not that each of our kids is on the track to university to be the next great doctor or lawyer, but that they can learn to love, live a moral life and be a successful member of society.

Right now in Phase II there are 3 girls and 2 boys that live in neighboring apartments. Currently MayKate is the missionary living with the girls and Nils lives with the boys. Also in charge of Phase II is Sor (sister) Kady. She actually lives here in Trujillo at the Finca, but goes to Ceiba every Thursday through Saturday to work with the teens.

            Another aspect of our program in Ceiba is the Saterlee family. They are from Iowa (with Minnesota connections). Their son (age 17) and daughter (age 15) attend a bi-lingual high school in Ceiba. Their mission is one of support and hospitality. Their apartment is often a stopping point for missionaries, guests, families others with Farm ties who are traveling to the Farm from various locations. They also support the work of MaryKate and Nils with phase II. Lastly, and perhaps most important for those of us at the Farm the Saterlees and their apartment are a bit of an oasis for a weekend escape from the Farm. 

Happy Birthday Guatemala!

September 15^th marked Guatemala’s 191^st birthday, and this country definitely knows how to celebrate! From parades for what seems like days on end, to “fashion” shows of traditional Mayan clothing, and torch runs for every school including ours. It was all quite extravagant with lots of music, dancing, bands, whistle blowing and horn honking that leaves New York City traffic in the dust.

For at least a week leading up to their Independence Day our teachers had been telling us about a “torch run” which would be the day before the big celebrations. I envisioned it to be similar to an Olympic torch run but on a much much smaller scale like a few blocks in town or maybe from one edge of town to the other. Well, it wasn’t exactly Olympic distances, but for someone (a.k.a myself) who isn’t exactly in any sort of shape beyond a blob it was quite far. The route was 15-20 kilometers (about 10 miles) give or take, through multiple surrounding small towns!

Let me just say right off the bat that I did finish, but I did not run or even walk it all. The school had large vans that sort of trailed and picked up people as they needed a break. Although, my legs were screaming at me and pretty much refusing to move for the next week it was totally worth it. While Emily, Kiddissa and I made use of the vans at various points Laura and Kevin actually ran the whole way. Laura started and ended the race for us with the torch while Kevin and I ran with the banner. That didn’t last long before I handed it off to another student and started walking.

There were probably about 40-50 people (students, teachers, staff/community members) “running” in our group. Anyone who wanted had the chance to run with the torch. I took my chance after the group stopped to rest. Running with a heavy flaming thing close to your head isn’t exactly easy so not long after getting my Kodak moment I handed it off too.

It took us as a group about 1½ hours. Afterwards, I quick ran home… well not exactly ran or quick. Let me rephrase that… after chugging plenty of water I dragged myself home for a much needed shower before afternoon classes. After a couple hours of class we had a fiesta of sorts.

Most of the girls got to dress in the traditional clothing of different surrounding villages. The skirts are just wraps of fabric held up with a belt that’s reminiscent of a corset. We then put on a fashion show as the school’s director read information explaining the significance of each village’s typical clothing. After our little show we got to enjoy lots of local food including, tostados, tacos, chuchitos, mole (that’s Mo-lay… not a small rodent but a dessert of seasoned chocolate sauce with platanos which are similar to bananas but sweeter) and rosa de Jamaica (a fruit juice of sorts). 

As for celebrations on the 15^th it was truly an all day event. I was awoken at 6:00 a.m. to the sounds of blaring trumpets, pounding drums and pinging glockenspiels marching by outside the front door. When I went down to the central park at 6:00 that evening it was packed shoulder to shoulder. The crowds and marching bands were so numerous that the bands didn’t actually march, but still put on quite the show keeping time and even dancing in place.

 As the sun dimmed the lights on the show everyone’s spirits seemed to light up even more. Dozens if not hundreds of vendors were more than happy to sell you everything you never needed, from glow sticks to tostados with frijoles they just made in their kitchen. Passing one final band I was brought back to my days of high school pep/marching band as they played “Hey Baby” as if it were just as important as their national anthem. Now blocks away I turned around to see an impressive fireworks display. I stood in the street a bit longer as the bursts of light accented the waves of music bouncing off the store fronts. The bands battled on for another hour that night. With each step I took towards home the music slowly faded into the background leaving me with great memories of the amazing culture here in Guatemala.

A few more pics of the celebrations:

Paradise Found

The weekend of Sept. 7^th all 5 of us took the trip of a lifetime to Semuc Chempay (a nature reserve near about an hour outside the city of Coban and the village of Lanquin). Honestly, I think this is The Garden of Eden. Take a look at the photos and try to argue. That said it wasn’t exactly a relaxing weekend, but it was amazing and an adventure in every sense of the word!

We got to our “hotel” just outside of the village of Lanquin in the dark of night. We new the hostel would be “rustic” but some really big eight legged creatures, and another with even more legs gave the term new meaning for me. We had been told we’d have 5 beds for 5 people, but with our lack of communicating we had 4 beds for 5 people or so we thought. So Laura and I shared a twin bed. A lack of space became a second concern after we realized the beds were basically hard as concrete.

We found out the next morning that there was another bed in a third room. That would have been for Kevin. However, I decided I didn’t mind sharing a bed a second night and having Kevin stay in our room after seeing a very large cockroach scurry under his bed.

Kiddissa was quick to inform us after taking a shower that night that she wasn’t alone. Two very large spiders had taken refuge from the rain in the very tiny shower. She smashed one with her shampoo bottle, but the other was out of reach. Now I’ve been known to exaggerate on the size of spiders before so I wish I had a photo to show you. However, I did later see the one that escaped the shampoo massacre. Including its legs it was about the size of my palm! Therefore showering very quickly dropped off my priority list especially since we’d be in the water the next day.

So Saturday morning we got up, ate our breakfast of the best banana bread ever and then got a ride from the agency to a restaurant where we’d catch our “transport” to Semuc Chempay. There were about 10 others there as well waiting to catch a ride. Our “ride” showed up. A single pick-up truck with rigging in the back so that we could hold on. Imagine riding a crowded city bus, but without an exterior shell to keep you from falling out onto the road. We pile in like cattle and hold on for dear life as we head out of town further up the winding rocky mountain road which at some points was more of a washed out trail than anything.

Around every bend is another sight that you’re sure is the most beautiful view imaginable. Then through a clearing in the hills steeped with giant corn stalks we caught a glimpse of what we came to see. Way down below us is the bright turquoise river that looks like a wonderful escape from the sun baking us. It’s a good thing we all sprayed on several coats of sunscreen and bug spray.

After about 15 minutes of bumping along our arms and stomachs were all becoming a bit weak. Thankfully we arrived at our next jumping off point, a hotel, not long after. Another group joined ours and soon we were off in search of the perfect postcard photo overlooking the river and the naturally formed pools nestled in the dense almost jungle like forest.

Our guide told us it would take about 40 minutes to reach the top where we could rest and take pictures. Despite the temperature not being all that hot and even hiking through very shaded areas the sweat was running off us faster than even the river was moving. I’d forgotten what tropical humidity felt like. While the hike literally breathtaking the view also took your breath away. With each new sight I found myself amazed that a place this beautiful could exist in the world.

With our memories now captured on camera we headed back down through the woods. About halfway down a voice behind me said, “Hey guys, look there’s monkeys!” The national geographic wannabe in me whipped around at lightning pace with camera in hand. It was unreal! At first there was just one monkey and close enough that if I was a little taller I could have reached. She was quite interested in having her photo taken too. Then further back on the branch appeared a second smaller monkey (likely her baby). She started to climb down towards us, and that’s when I remembered and someone else stated that she could attack if we weren’t careful. After one more quick shot we let them be.

The group almost made it down to the natural pools without incident, when Laura took a decent fall sliding down a few steps. Thankfully, Kevin who was just a step or two in front sort of soccer mom armed her and stopped her from sliding further. Besides being shaken, pumped full of adrenaline and decently bruised she was okay. Then just a minute later another gal took a spill on the same damp wooden step. She however was a bit worse for the wear. I think she banged up her elbow and ankle pretty bad, but I’m not really sure what happened after because our guide told us to continue on to the pools.

We first stopped off in a shallow part of the river over looking a powerful waterfall that somehow continued on below us. A bit further along the path and we were at the swimming area. The pools are basically wide stepped areas in the river. Kevin, Laura and Emily quickly jumped in over a small waterfall/ledge for the deeper end while Kiddissa and I chilled in the upper more shallow part for a while. When my sense of adventure and need to swim took over I jumped in making sure to avoid a large rock someone said was below. I feel bad for whoever discovered it was there.

I swam out to the other three who were standing on a large rock trying to catch small fish in their hands. I prefer a rod and reel. I told them their odds were better in the shallow part where there were tons of minnow sized fish. If you could sit still long enough the fish congregated on your toes and feet for a suckling feast of whatever delicious things may be on your feet. Emily, Kiddissa and Kevin were much more able to withstand the tickling as the fish gave them free pedicures. Apparently I am far too ticklish, and the whole idea simply was too gross for Laura.

 Further down the river Laura discovered a small waterfall that we used as a slide down to another level. Just as we hoped to take the next little slide down our guide was calling us in to head back to the hotel for lunch. There was one more pool on the way back with a tall waterfall (20ft or so) where people were jumping off. My sense of survival would’ve definitely out ruled my sense of adventure on that one.

Let me just say for this next part I did not have my camera because it was not waterproof. I so much wish that wasn’t the case so you’ll just have to imagine all this.

After lunch came the real adventure… navigating our way through a cave through which the river was running and doing so with only a candle in hand. Well sort of, I also had a small flashlight and Laura had her headlamp. Still though we had no real idea of what we were getting into. Which looking back is probably for the better because I don’t know that I could have made myself do all of it.

The first 200 yards or so were pretty straight forward minus having to duck for the occasional giant stalactite. It gradually got deeper until suddenly the line of people in front of you is up to their armpits in water. No biggy, right? Since, I’ve basically got 6 inches on all of them I figured no worries. I look ahead again at the line of people lit only by the small candle in their hands, and see that they are definitely now swimming. This of course is not easy with a candle in one hand. I lasted as long as possible walking on my tip toes with my candle held out of the water. With about 100 yards to go before reaching a ladder I gave in and sort of tread water/ one-handed doggy paddled.

I soon realized climbing a ladder that’s tied to a rock wall with a candle isn’t much easy than swimming with a candle. After nearly loosing my footing I reached the top where I now had to remind myself that I’m “not closterphobic”. A low hanging stalactite meant crawling to reach a larger opening. Just as I thought it was safe to stand up I noticed the large crater to my right. After precariously maneuvering around the hole it was just a matter of waiting for the rest of our group and guides to get up there before forging ahead.

It was back to much drier land for a little while, but soon we found ourselves swimming and wading through various depths and forces of water. I’m actually quite surprised I never lost my footing in some of the more rapid parts. Up ahead we could see what was to be our next challenge although at the time we didn’t know it. About 200 yards in front of us but off to the right was a pretty powerful waterfall running through the cave.

 The 5 of us were near the back of the pack so for probably a good 30 minutes we just waited as the line of people slowly moved toward (and we thought past) the waterfall. It wasn’t until I was about 3 people away from the waterfall that I realized we were going up it and that was that. As I’m standing in line, my adrenaline levels rising as I inch closer one person at a time the thought went through my mind, “Nobody has died doing this… right?!!”

I really wasn’t sure how it would work to climb up a 180 degree wall with water gushing against you, but I knew somehow the rest of my group had made it. At least that’s what I assumed the cheers were after each person disappeared into the water. I figured they had attached another ladder for us to climb, and told myself I could manage that. Well… you know what they say about assuming things.

I found out quickly just how hard it would be. There was no ladder instead just a rope with a few knots for grabbing. I had flashbacks to the “Gladiator Rush” I took part in over the summer… think of an extreme obstacle course. I told my friends at “the rush”, “If there’s one of those wall things you have to climb with a rope I’m done for.” There was a rope climb then, but the wall was maybe only a 45 degree angle. Who would have thought that climb was preparing me for this.

Now telling myself “you can do this,” I watched as Kiddissa (just one person in front of me) grabbed onto the rope and headed up into the rapidly rushing water. Just I’d given myself the ultimate pep talk suddenly Kiddissa came crashing back down through the water. The look on her face wasn’t exactly the confidence boost I was hoping for. Amid the deafening crash of water all around us all I could tell was that maybe she’d try again later, but now I had to go.

I grabbed the rope and stuck my foot into the pounding waterfall. The wall was right there, but was worn smooth. Looking over to our guide I yelled in desperation, “How?!” He pointed to somewhere a bit higher up on the wall. I put my foot there and there was actually a decent foothold. With a burst of adrenaline and unknown strength I pulled myself straight up into the water now painfully pounding against my whole body.

Almost immediately I’d wished I had thought to take the largest breath of my life, but that was no longer exactly an option. That realization along with not knowing how much longer I would be submerged brought a certain feeling of panic to my entire being. It became a moment of fight of flight. Thankfully, my body chose to fight. Somehow my feet once again found the smallest of ledges to balance on and refusing/terrified to let go of the rope I blindly pulled myself up once again. Suddenly my head burst through above the water. With a life or death grip on the rope I looked around for a split second… I was alive! I was not safe yet, but at least the self-inflicted water boarding was over and I could breathe again.

Another guide was precariously perched above me. I looked to him to fulfill his title, but all I got was a bunch of Spanish that in know way was my mind going to comprehend at that moment. I had to find the physical strength to somehow now get myself up and over the waterfall’s ledge without falling some 20 feet. All I could do was to tempt fate and continue blindly feeling for a place higher up for my foot. Somehow, I was now straddling the ledge. Moving my hands up one more knot I was there… safe! Well, sort of. After all I was still in a cave with a river rushing under my feet.

Still holding onto rope now tethered above my head I forcefully moved forward against the current until a dry ledge appeared on my left. Then I realized the rest of the group was ahead of me. “Yeah!!!!!!” I threw my hands over my head as the rest of the group cheered and applauded. Take that Mother Nature I've got the big guy on my side! As Laura put it, our guardian angels definitely earned their wings. I had just conquered climbing UP a waterfall. Who needs a gold medal... but I do wish I had a photo!

We all waited and cheered as one after another the rest of our group accomplished the same great feat of courage and physical strength. You’d think we would be almost out and back on dry land after that. Not so! Despite the majority of candles now doused or shrinking there was plenty more hiking up ledges and sliding into areas that you didn’t dare try to find the bottom.

After what seemed like ages the group came to a stop. Shining my light forward I saw someone climbing about 20 feet of a pretty sheer drop. It looked like a dead end… literally! I began wondering how we’d get out and what other “adventure” I may have to conjure up strength for. Still watching the young man precariously planted on the ledge suddenly he jumped… or did he slip?! I was so confused… was he alive… what was happening!? Instantly there was a huge splash below. He surfaced uninjured about 10 seconds later.

Now a line was forming as others wanted to take their turn at jumping into the abyss. While Laura eagerly “jumped” at the opportunity I was definitely content to watch and pray that the massive whole below was in fact deep enough that she would not coming out looking like a crushed car. She safely and with great excitement made her jump fulfilling a dream.

As for how we were getting out we went back the way we came minus the massive waterfall. However, what goes up must come down, right? We still had another challenge ahead that had me saying, “WHAT?!! I’d really just like to make it out alive today!”

For anyone that has ever been to the water park at Valleyfair you’ll be able to relate or at least picture my terror. Ahead of me was a hole about the size of one of those tunnel waterslides, and just like those slides water was gushing down through this hole. Imagine the “fast” slide and triple the force. None of us had the slightest clue what laid ahead as we were being fed into this waterfall. I thought it might be kind of fun to go through a rushing tunnel of water twisting and turning under the ground. My sense of adventure was tempered though by the realization that this was really in no way like the tightly regulated water parks back home in which I knew what to expect.

This time I told myself, “Take a huge breath! Remember that time when you set a record for holding your breath. Now would be a good time to do that again!” With a guide impossibly perched about the hole he waved me forward. Shouting against the roaring water he somehow explained through actions that I had to do exactly as he said. Wanting to survive I followed his every direction.

Sit more to the left, but hold on tightly to this piece of rock above you. Good! Now tapping my left foot he pointed to a small ledge below amid the rushing water. Before realizing I hadn’t taken a record setting breath I let go of the ledge above me. The water shot me through with the force of a train. Everything happened so fast that it wasn’t until I surfaced just a few seconds later that I could think about what happened. To my relief and slight disappointment the giant hole didn’t lead to a series of tunnels. I was simply shot through to a deep pool where the rest of the group was waiting.

We were now truly just backtracking. Now nearing the entrance with only Laura and Kevin left behind me I stopped as something flew past my light. I turned around excitedly, “Guys! There’s bats!” Then another whizzed by. We were all momentarily enraptured until a third flew by. That’s when Laura brought us to reality by saying, “We should get out. I really don’t want rabies.” Considering I’d opted out of that expensive and painful series of shots I heeded her advice.

We broke through into daylight with some of the most amazing adventures behind us. There was just one thing left for the day, which I’d been waiting for the whole time. We were going tubing! After all the extreme hiking, swimming, climbing and descending of waterfalls we were all ready for a chill end. We grabbed our tubes and sank into the chilly but tranquil turquoise river. For the next 10 minutes or so I reminisced about times of tubing up north in DL and Perham. It made me wish I could have shared the day’s adventure with friends back home.

That said I hope my short novel has helped you picture the beauty and adventure of Semuc Chempay. I hope if you have the chance you too can visit the most beautiful place on earth, test your limits and learn that you can accomplish things you never imagined possible.