March 29, 2009
Hello to all of our loved ones,
This week has been a quiet one of recuperation and still preparing lessons and teaching classes. I was able to meet all of my teaching obligations and Spencer has continued to be supportive and protective—almost a worry wart! But I do appreciate his love and concern.
Today we went to Esquipulas for church, since last weekend, Spencer hurried home to take care of me. People seemed genuinely glad to see us. It is a nice little branch. I think there are things we can do to help them. The Branch President has given us four families to focus on and try to help the men become active. In each case the sisters are active. Our work is cut out for us. It was my first day to try to do everything that seemed just normal a couple of weeks ago. I did OK on the trip there—just felt a little queasy, but no major dizziness. When we returned we walked home and that was a little much—I don’t really have that much stamina yet—but we wouldn’t have known if we hadn’t tried! So now we know to not try to take such giant steps.
This week we have had the weather everyone had been predicting for March, April and May. Hot! Nathan seems to have been given credit for taking rain to San Antonio twice, so maybe when he and Christena arrive in ONE WEEK, he can bring rain to us as well! That would be a nice change.
It is hard to believe that Curtis and Sheryl are just about to finish their mission. It is pretty amazing that Grandpa and Grandma Brown have had three kids (and spouses) in the mission field all at once. After the middle of April we will be down to two couples. But maybe we can count James’ assignment to the temple as a sort of mission as well--and Terry’s genealogy is surely a mission!
I guess what it really boils down to is that each one of us is on a mission of sorts. For lots of moms in our family it is Cub Scouts/Weblos and the men are working with scouts. Of course we have several other callings going on—how many years has Cody been Relief Society President?
One of your most important missions each one of us has is to grow more loving and more like the Savior each day. We practice that mostly in our own homes—as loving companions and good parents. I am so grateful that all of our grandchildren have loving parents who are committed to keeping temple covenants and helping their children learn to choose the right. We are very blessed.
The important thing is to fulfill our callings and truly be committed to furthering the Lord’s work here on the earth. We do that in a variety of ways, but we can do it in unique and individual paths.
Thank you to each of you. We pray for you every day and appreciate your prayers for us.
Love, See below for my spiritual insights.
Mom/Jeanie
Spiritual Musings:
I had a practical and spiritual insight when I was sick that I thought I might share with you.
When I first fainted and I was on the floor, Spencer was determined to lift me up and of course he couldn’t, because at that point I was dead weight. He was asking, “Who can I call to come help me get you up?” Finally, once I became more oriented and said, “Don’t keep trying to lift me. Come around in front and take my hand and let me help lift myself.” That plan worked. But when I started getting out of bed, Spencer’s instinct was still to grab me and I had to keep redirecting him to let me take a hold of him—not just to have him grab me. It just didn’t work that way.
I remembered an in-service I arranged when I was nursing director. We had volunteers from the Blind Center come to the Pioneers’ Home. One of the activities was to blind fold some of us and have others “help” them. When the helpers grabbed the arms of the “blind person” it was awful. You had no control and felt completely helpless. When the “blind person” was offered the elbow of the helper so they could grab hold, they felt much more secure and had some control over their movements. We certainly found that to be true when Noni lived with us and had lost most of her eyesight.
Even when our hearts are in the right and we just want to help other people, we can’t “do it for them.” They have to be allowed to lift themselves up. We are only there for support and encouragement. We hold out our hand and let me use our strength to pull against. If we take over and lift them, we have completely taken away all power from them—they are completely helpless. No one likes the feeling of being helpless. How often do we do that as parents?
Years ago Jason gave me the book “I Don’t Have to Make Everything Better” (or something close to that). It is a great book on helping us empower others instead of taking power from them. Even when it is hard to watch them stumble, we have to let them struggle to get their feet under themselves and take a tentative step.
I’ve known this principle for a long time—but being weak and helpless really brought it home to me—no matter how weak I was—I wanted to be the one hanging on—not the other way around. Life does have a way of bringing these lessons home to us, doesn’t it? There must be some eternal plan we need to learn while we are here in mortality.
Monday, March 30
Sunday, March 29
Wednesday, March 25
March 24, 2009
Hello family,
Well, I am still among the living. It did seem unlikely some days last week—and sometimes not even desirable. But I pulled through—thanks to prayers from many of you. I still have some nausea, lots of fatigue and my glasses are waaaay off for my vision now, so I am pretty sure I had a concussion. Oh well, at least I am getting better. I am going to teach tonight, so we will see how that goes. Spencer has gone to Zone Conference in Zacapa today so I am here resting and working on lesson plans—and writing to the people I love.
It was such fun to look at the pictures and read the commentary on the jeaninereunion.blogspot.com about the reunion Janae and Stephen hosted in San Antonio. Wish I could have been in two places at once. On Sunday morning I was feeling sort of melancholy because I knew it was the day Sarah would be baptized and I wouldn’t be there to witness it.
I wanted to get over the “funks” some way. When we arrived at church the five youngest Ramirez children came running to greet us. We have been fellowshipping this family for several months. Our FHE have focused on the first principles and ordinances since they had two unbaptized children over the age of eight. They love us and if they spot us a block away they come running to give us both hugs. After all the abrazos were finished I discovered that neither their mom or 12 year old sister could come, so the nine year old was in charge and they had walked to church on their own. The kids are ages 4, 5, 7, 8, and 9. They sat with/on/around us. As soon as we were seated the two girls each independently said, “Hermana, quiero bautizarse” [“I want to be baptized”]. It was truly a “tender mercy” from the Lord for the girls to make that decision and tell me on that day. I was sooooooo happy for them.
The baptism was held Friday night. I ventured out for it only because I love the family so much and because they wanted Spencer and me to talk. Three of their cousins—whose parents aren’t members also attended. It was great, when it was time for the baptism, there were six little faces pressed right against the glass so that they wouldn’t miss anything. Spencer baptized both of them. I didn’t make it to church on Sunday, but Spencer confirmed one of the girls. The bishop drove us to the church for the baptism and his counselor drove us home. Just riding in a car made me dizzy, so I was glad I didn’t have to take the bus—which would have been much worse.
Spencer went to Esquipulas on Saturday for the Capacitación (leadership training) for the Priesthood brethren. Several of the men couldn’t come because of work conflicts, but it was well received by the ones who were able to be there. The last bus out of Esquipulas leaves at 6 PM and Spencer knew it was iffy on catching it. He took a suitcase just in case he had to stay overnight. The minute the meeting was over, he took off at a trot and got to the highway just in time to flag down the last bus. The suitcase went on top and he had to stand in a completely packed bus. Seats were crowded and the men standing were shoulder to shoulder. It was that way for about 30 minutes until some started getting off. His efforts were heroic—and much appreciated.
The Gordillos came and stayed with me while he was gone. They brought homemade chicken soup, which actually tasted good. I had a terrible migraine, so I mostly just slept on the couch with a cold cloth on my head. I still had a headache on Sunday, but by Sunday night it had resolved. So I think I really am on the mend.
Two of our other families are making progress. In both cases the dads are now attending regularly. Nelson Lemus is getting a lot of flak from his wife—whose brother is a preacher in another church and he was warned her about coming back to the Mormon Church. Jairo Perez is also coming alone—and even gave a talk in church on Sunday. His wife is taking a seamstress course on Sunday mornings, but wants to start attending as soon as that is completed. They also have an unbaptized 9 year old.
This is an interesting culture. There are many, many examples of families where the husband is stronger in the church than the wife. I certainly had not witnessed that in the Anglo culture. Generally we think of women as having the more spiritual nature, but here the men seem to “catch the vision” of the Lord’s work more than the women do. It is amazing. But there are some prime examples on the opposite end as well—such as the Ramirez family—whose dad didn’t even come to the baptism. The same thing happened in January when we helped set up the baptism for the eight year old in the Garcia family. Her dad didn’t attend her baptism either. It is sad. What an important day in the life of a child and for a dad to just blow it off or let family conflict interfere is so unfortunate.
We are getting really close to our visit from Nathan and Christena. I am so grateful that families can visit senior missionaries—and I’m glad Christena’s Spring Break is during Semana Santa (Holy Week) when everything is closed—including school and we have no classes. The mission president was very supportive of us going with them to all the locations within the mission boundaries. This is a very big bright spot to look forward to.
Once again, thanks for your prayers. They made a difference. We love you all.
Mom/Jeanine
Well, I am still among the living. It did seem unlikely some days last week—and sometimes not even desirable. But I pulled through—thanks to prayers from many of you. I still have some nausea, lots of fatigue and my glasses are waaaay off for my vision now, so I am pretty sure I had a concussion. Oh well, at least I am getting better. I am going to teach tonight, so we will see how that goes. Spencer has gone to Zone Conference in Zacapa today so I am here resting and working on lesson plans—and writing to the people I love.
It was such fun to look at the pictures and read the commentary on the jeaninereunion.blogspot.com about the reunion Janae and Stephen hosted in San Antonio. Wish I could have been in two places at once. On Sunday morning I was feeling sort of melancholy because I knew it was the day Sarah would be baptized and I wouldn’t be there to witness it.
I wanted to get over the “funks” some way. When we arrived at church the five youngest Ramirez children came running to greet us. We have been fellowshipping this family for several months. Our FHE have focused on the first principles and ordinances since they had two unbaptized children over the age of eight. They love us and if they spot us a block away they come running to give us both hugs. After all the abrazos were finished I discovered that neither their mom or 12 year old sister could come, so the nine year old was in charge and they had walked to church on their own. The kids are ages 4, 5, 7, 8, and 9. They sat with/on/around us. As soon as we were seated the two girls each independently said, “Hermana, quiero bautizarse” [“I want to be baptized”]. It was truly a “tender mercy” from the Lord for the girls to make that decision and tell me on that day. I was sooooooo happy for them.
The baptism was held Friday night. I ventured out for it only because I love the family so much and because they wanted Spencer and me to talk. Three of their cousins—whose parents aren’t members also attended. It was great, when it was time for the baptism, there were six little faces pressed right against the glass so that they wouldn’t miss anything. Spencer baptized both of them. I didn’t make it to church on Sunday, but Spencer confirmed one of the girls. The bishop drove us to the church for the baptism and his counselor drove us home. Just riding in a car made me dizzy, so I was glad I didn’t have to take the bus—which would have been much worse.
Spencer went to Esquipulas on Saturday for the Capacitación (leadership training) for the Priesthood brethren. Several of the men couldn’t come because of work conflicts, but it was well received by the ones who were able to be there. The last bus out of Esquipulas leaves at 6 PM and Spencer knew it was iffy on catching it. He took a suitcase just in case he had to stay overnight. The minute the meeting was over, he took off at a trot and got to the highway just in time to flag down the last bus. The suitcase went on top and he had to stand in a completely packed bus. Seats were crowded and the men standing were shoulder to shoulder. It was that way for about 30 minutes until some started getting off. His efforts were heroic—and much appreciated.
The Gordillos came and stayed with me while he was gone. They brought homemade chicken soup, which actually tasted good. I had a terrible migraine, so I mostly just slept on the couch with a cold cloth on my head. I still had a headache on Sunday, but by Sunday night it had resolved. So I think I really am on the mend.
Two of our other families are making progress. In both cases the dads are now attending regularly. Nelson Lemus is getting a lot of flak from his wife—whose brother is a preacher in another church and he was warned her about coming back to the Mormon Church. Jairo Perez is also coming alone—and even gave a talk in church on Sunday. His wife is taking a seamstress course on Sunday mornings, but wants to start attending as soon as that is completed. They also have an unbaptized 9 year old.
This is an interesting culture. There are many, many examples of families where the husband is stronger in the church than the wife. I certainly had not witnessed that in the Anglo culture. Generally we think of women as having the more spiritual nature, but here the men seem to “catch the vision” of the Lord’s work more than the women do. It is amazing. But there are some prime examples on the opposite end as well—such as the Ramirez family—whose dad didn’t even come to the baptism. The same thing happened in January when we helped set up the baptism for the eight year old in the Garcia family. Her dad didn’t attend her baptism either. It is sad. What an important day in the life of a child and for a dad to just blow it off or let family conflict interfere is so unfortunate.
We are getting really close to our visit from Nathan and Christena. I am so grateful that families can visit senior missionaries—and I’m glad Christena’s Spring Break is during Semana Santa (Holy Week) when everything is closed—including school and we have no classes. The mission president was very supportive of us going with them to all the locations within the mission boundaries. This is a very big bright spot to look forward to.
Once again, thanks for your prayers. They made a difference. We love you all.
Mom/Jeanine
March 20th, 2009
Hi kids,
Just a note to explain why no one has heard from me. On Sunday afternoon my temp starting climbing and I hurt all over my body. I was eagerly anticipating talking to the grandkids at Janae's house after Sarah's baptism. But I kept getting sicker by the minute. Mu temp eventually reached 104. I threw up a couple of times and was getting weaker by the minute, so I finally drug my body up the stairs to bed. I was so sad to not get to see the grandkids on Janae's webcam. But I could hardly lift my head by the appointed time for our phone call.
I thought I must have another kidney infection. but no, during the night it became apparent it was a gastrointestinal infection. When I was headed to the bathroom in the early morning hours the world began swimming around me. I got a hold of a door and thought I'd be OK. Spencer was sort of waking up and wondering why I was trying to pull the door off its hinges. Then he had the horrible experience of watching (almost like slow motion) when I passed out, falling to my hip and then smacking my head on our ceramic tile floor. It was pretty terrifying for Spencer to see and not be able to stop it from happening. I was disoriented and sick and couldn't get up. He tried to lift me, but couldn't. Eventually, by hanging on to him I was able to pull myself up enough to lean over the bed and later crawl across the bed. The world continued swimming--or sometimes revolving in rapid circles for three days. I had been light headed during the night when I got up to the bathroom, but after my head smacked on the floor, the nausea, vomitting and dizziness were many times worse. If I turned my head or turned over in bed I vomitted. We created a makeshift bedpan and I kept a "throw up bucket" cuddled in my arms much of the time.
My temp has gone up every night--but never as high as Sunday. I have drunk so much Pedialyte that even my sweat (and every other body excrement) was starting to smell like it. Ugh! We had to change pillow cases a couple of times a day because I was diaphoretic with the fever and it smelled like Pedialyte. Spencer has been amazing--cleaning me up, taking specimens to the lab, calling the doctor, going to pharmacies, buying and bringing me liquids, washing tons of towels, bedding and stuff for me--and still teaching. Tuesday was awful. If I opened my eyes the room spun around. If I closed them I had hallucinations--sort of like seeing stars, only sometimes it was stars, clouds, mountain tops, wall paper, bugs, you name and I saw it. I finally had Spencer bring up the dvd player to see if religious music would help decrease the hallucinations--mostly I tried to sleep since I couldn't turn my head without throwing up. It was sort of the day from hell in the week from hell.
One of the sisters in the ward (Hermana Gordillo--the one whose son is a missionary in the Ward Dennis and Sandy have callings) has come the last two days to bathe me. Tere, our housekeeper spent two extra hours here today taking care of both the clean laundry Spencer had washed and all of the remaining dirty laundry and all the regular stuff--plus cleaning the fridge, because when Spencer made me some jello, some spilled in the fridge. He said the mess in the fridge was enough "to make a preacher boy cuss." I replied that I was sure it did--since he is a preacher boy, after all, and I'm quite sure he cussed. Finally today I couldn't stand the bedroom any longer, so Spencer helped me downstairs and I have been lying on the couch. I'm still really light headed. Actually, I am fine. It is the world that is crazy--it just keeps randomly swimming around in crazy ways! Tomorrow I finish the antibiotic that will hopefully kill the ameoba. And just writing this much has wasted me. Too bad I don't have wireless internet, 'cause I have to go back to the couch. I'll call when I can get back to the computer and sit upright.
Love,
Mom/Jeanine
Addendum for Friday (written later than that, but from that perspective): Last night while Spencer was teaching I bent over to pick up a couple of things on the floor and when I stood up the second time I started to pass out again. I just sort of leaned for the couch and thankfully made it before going down. I just laid on the couch and cried with discouragement. It felt like such a set-back. The Gordillos had said to call them anytime day or night, but it wouldn't have done any good because I coulldn't have made it to the gate to unlock it. Now we have given them a key so that if I need them, they can let themselves in.
We went to the doctor today. I rode the bus the block and a half. Just having it start moving about made me hurl. The diarrhea stopped after three days, but the nausea and dizziness continue. We asked about the head trauma, but she wants to wait until next week to see if the symptoms still persist. She started me on something new for dizziness--a vasodilator for the brain or something scary sounding. They are pretty laid back about head trauma. Of course, most concussions do resolve on their own. It just would have been nice to know. I guess. I can't complain about her care though--she made a house call on Monday to give me a shot for nausea. No one in the states would have done that. Plus, she won't let us pay. She is a menos activo in our ward and a very nice person.
Cominng home from the doctor's office was a real challenge. It is a one way street the other way. I couldn't stomach the thought of being on the bus for the whole big loop with all of the jerky stops and starts, so I just hung on to Spencer and we started up the street. I found a place to sit down and rest about every half a block. Everyone kept stopping and staring, so I must have looked a spectacle. One young adult in the ward came out from her work and asked if she could help--but I was only a half block from home and there was nothing to do, but just keep going.
Spencer also talked to Dr. Rory Vides--the head of the medical school. He said we could have called him. But he also didn't seem too worried about head trauma. He said diarrhea in this country can have after affects for weeks or sometimes months. He said it is dangerous if you can't get it stopped in 24 hours. Mine lasted three days.
We don't know where I got this bug. We had gone to Guatemala City on Friday and Saturday to the temple. The only things I had different than Spencer were a tamale and I asked for purified water and they brought it in a pitcher--presumably purified. We only ate at Pizza Hut and the church owned diner across from the temple--which is really very clean. Maybe there was just one food handler that hadn't washed hands properly. But some literature says you can also get it from hand to mouth contamination if you shake hands with someone and then eat something (like nuts or fruit) that is hand to mouth without washing your hands first. I am pretty compulsive about handwashing and don't recall anything like that, but who knows. All kinds of ameoba are endemic in many parts of the world--including here. We'll probably never know and I guess it really doesn't matter.
Just a note to explain why no one has heard from me. On Sunday afternoon my temp starting climbing and I hurt all over my body. I was eagerly anticipating talking to the grandkids at Janae's house after Sarah's baptism. But I kept getting sicker by the minute. Mu temp eventually reached 104. I threw up a couple of times and was getting weaker by the minute, so I finally drug my body up the stairs to bed. I was so sad to not get to see the grandkids on Janae's webcam. But I could hardly lift my head by the appointed time for our phone call.
I thought I must have another kidney infection. but no, during the night it became apparent it was a gastrointestinal infection. When I was headed to the bathroom in the early morning hours the world began swimming around me. I got a hold of a door and thought I'd be OK. Spencer was sort of waking up and wondering why I was trying to pull the door off its hinges. Then he had the horrible experience of watching (almost like slow motion) when I passed out, falling to my hip and then smacking my head on our ceramic tile floor. It was pretty terrifying for Spencer to see and not be able to stop it from happening. I was disoriented and sick and couldn't get up. He tried to lift me, but couldn't. Eventually, by hanging on to him I was able to pull myself up enough to lean over the bed and later crawl across the bed. The world continued swimming--or sometimes revolving in rapid circles for three days. I had been light headed during the night when I got up to the bathroom, but after my head smacked on the floor, the nausea, vomitting and dizziness were many times worse. If I turned my head or turned over in bed I vomitted. We created a makeshift bedpan and I kept a "throw up bucket" cuddled in my arms much of the time.
My temp has gone up every night--but never as high as Sunday. I have drunk so much Pedialyte that even my sweat (and every other body excrement) was starting to smell like it. Ugh! We had to change pillow cases a couple of times a day because I was diaphoretic with the fever and it smelled like Pedialyte. Spencer has been amazing--cleaning me up, taking specimens to the lab, calling the doctor, going to pharmacies, buying and bringing me liquids, washing tons of towels, bedding and stuff for me--and still teaching. Tuesday was awful. If I opened my eyes the room spun around. If I closed them I had hallucinations--sort of like seeing stars, only sometimes it was stars, clouds, mountain tops, wall paper, bugs, you name and I saw it. I finally had Spencer bring up the dvd player to see if religious music would help decrease the hallucinations--mostly I tried to sleep since I couldn't turn my head without throwing up. It was sort of the day from hell in the week from hell.
One of the sisters in the ward (Hermana Gordillo--the one whose son is a missionary in the Ward Dennis and Sandy have callings) has come the last two days to bathe me. Tere, our housekeeper spent two extra hours here today taking care of both the clean laundry Spencer had washed and all of the remaining dirty laundry and all the regular stuff--plus cleaning the fridge, because when Spencer made me some jello, some spilled in the fridge. He said the mess in the fridge was enough "to make a preacher boy cuss." I replied that I was sure it did--since he is a preacher boy, after all, and I'm quite sure he cussed. Finally today I couldn't stand the bedroom any longer, so Spencer helped me downstairs and I have been lying on the couch. I'm still really light headed. Actually, I am fine. It is the world that is crazy--it just keeps randomly swimming around in crazy ways! Tomorrow I finish the antibiotic that will hopefully kill the ameoba. And just writing this much has wasted me. Too bad I don't have wireless internet, 'cause I have to go back to the couch. I'll call when I can get back to the computer and sit upright.
Love,
Mom/Jeanine
Addendum for Friday (written later than that, but from that perspective): Last night while Spencer was teaching I bent over to pick up a couple of things on the floor and when I stood up the second time I started to pass out again. I just sort of leaned for the couch and thankfully made it before going down. I just laid on the couch and cried with discouragement. It felt like such a set-back. The Gordillos had said to call them anytime day or night, but it wouldn't have done any good because I coulldn't have made it to the gate to unlock it. Now we have given them a key so that if I need them, they can let themselves in.
We went to the doctor today. I rode the bus the block and a half. Just having it start moving about made me hurl. The diarrhea stopped after three days, but the nausea and dizziness continue. We asked about the head trauma, but she wants to wait until next week to see if the symptoms still persist. She started me on something new for dizziness--a vasodilator for the brain or something scary sounding. They are pretty laid back about head trauma. Of course, most concussions do resolve on their own. It just would have been nice to know. I guess. I can't complain about her care though--she made a house call on Monday to give me a shot for nausea. No one in the states would have done that. Plus, she won't let us pay. She is a menos activo in our ward and a very nice person.
Cominng home from the doctor's office was a real challenge. It is a one way street the other way. I couldn't stomach the thought of being on the bus for the whole big loop with all of the jerky stops and starts, so I just hung on to Spencer and we started up the street. I found a place to sit down and rest about every half a block. Everyone kept stopping and staring, so I must have looked a spectacle. One young adult in the ward came out from her work and asked if she could help--but I was only a half block from home and there was nothing to do, but just keep going.
Spencer also talked to Dr. Rory Vides--the head of the medical school. He said we could have called him. But he also didn't seem too worried about head trauma. He said diarrhea in this country can have after affects for weeks or sometimes months. He said it is dangerous if you can't get it stopped in 24 hours. Mine lasted three days.
We don't know where I got this bug. We had gone to Guatemala City on Friday and Saturday to the temple. The only things I had different than Spencer were a tamale and I asked for purified water and they brought it in a pitcher--presumably purified. We only ate at Pizza Hut and the church owned diner across from the temple--which is really very clean. Maybe there was just one food handler that hadn't washed hands properly. But some literature says you can also get it from hand to mouth contamination if you shake hands with someone and then eat something (like nuts or fruit) that is hand to mouth without washing your hands first. I am pretty compulsive about handwashing and don't recall anything like that, but who knows. All kinds of ameoba are endemic in many parts of the world--including here. We'll probably never know and I guess it really doesn't matter.
March 7, 2009
Hello family and loved ones,
It has been two weeks again, so Id better write a letter at least a short one. Here is Spencers report (direct quote): Weve had colds. Its been pretty uneventful.
He is right about the colds! Im just a few days ahead of him and Monday it will be two full weeks. Im completing a course of antibiotics (because of bronchitis) but Im not better, so I guess it is a virus. We have managed to continue teaching our classes and preparing our lessons, but other than that we just sleep, cough, gag, and sleep some more. Colds are called grip in Spanishand these colds definitely have a grip on us!
We have a new Bishopric in the Ward. The Bishop was sustained several weeks ago, but without counselors, because the names hadnt been approved in SLC. Last week he got counselors. Bishop Leonel Rodriquez, Counsellors Leonel Barrera (who is the only member in his family. His wife and daughter attend, but arent baptized. He is a convert of about three years.) and Fernando Mora (he is either single or his wife is inactiveIve never seen any evidence of a wife at church). It is interesting to be in Latin America. All three men are fantastic and the ward should bloom under their leadership.
The weather has been really crazy. Some mornings are really coolperhaps in low 50s with lots of wind and humidity in the air. It has been cool even to us. The locals are freezing! But the afternoons are in the 90s. The dramatic weather changes dont help our colds. But this too, shall pass.
Our investigators are only lukewarm at this point. The young elders are going to make some visits and see if they can light a fire in them. Great peopleand we still have high hopes for the Vargas family. We did have a baptism in the ward this weekthe wife is a doctor and the husband is an archeologist. They are great people. I hope they keep the fire alive.
Students seem to really enjoy our classes. The numbers are really highboth at the church and at CUNORI. The attendance fluctuates, but it would be interesting to know how many different people we have taught since the year started. Spencer doesnt even attempt to keep a roll in the church class. The kids class that I teach at the church has never been advertized, but every week I get more students from just word of mouth. Attendance fluctuates there also, but the numbers are between 6-12 most weeks. That is a fun, but challenging class, because I have to create those lessons too. I have found some resources on the internet and from going through materials we have here and adapting them to kids. Sometimes an idea comes to me during the classand those flashes of inspiration are usually the best activity of the night.
We received news this last week from Dennis Call (who bought Phil Larsens cabin) that when he and his son went on snowmobiles to check all of the cabins, they found that a big tree had broken off and fallen over on our cabin. That wasnt our best news! We are waiting to get news on what it will take to fix it. We arent sure if it broke thru into the toy room or not. Curt Gillespie, from Vernon, is going to check it out as soon as he can get up therehe will probably have to borrow a snowmobile to do it.
Spencer has started spraying for ants and the fumes are killing me, so I have to get out of this part of the housethat is one way for him to be certain I keep this one short!
We love you. We miss you. We are counting down the days until Nathan and Christena get here! 28 days! Yeah!
Love,
Mom/Jeanine
It has been two weeks again, so Id better write a letter at least a short one. Here is Spencers report (direct quote): Weve had colds. Its been pretty uneventful.
He is right about the colds! Im just a few days ahead of him and Monday it will be two full weeks. Im completing a course of antibiotics (because of bronchitis) but Im not better, so I guess it is a virus. We have managed to continue teaching our classes and preparing our lessons, but other than that we just sleep, cough, gag, and sleep some more. Colds are called grip in Spanishand these colds definitely have a grip on us!
We have a new Bishopric in the Ward. The Bishop was sustained several weeks ago, but without counselors, because the names hadnt been approved in SLC. Last week he got counselors. Bishop Leonel Rodriquez, Counsellors Leonel Barrera (who is the only member in his family. His wife and daughter attend, but arent baptized. He is a convert of about three years.) and Fernando Mora (he is either single or his wife is inactiveIve never seen any evidence of a wife at church). It is interesting to be in Latin America. All three men are fantastic and the ward should bloom under their leadership.
The weather has been really crazy. Some mornings are really coolperhaps in low 50s with lots of wind and humidity in the air. It has been cool even to us. The locals are freezing! But the afternoons are in the 90s. The dramatic weather changes dont help our colds. But this too, shall pass.
Our investigators are only lukewarm at this point. The young elders are going to make some visits and see if they can light a fire in them. Great peopleand we still have high hopes for the Vargas family. We did have a baptism in the ward this weekthe wife is a doctor and the husband is an archeologist. They are great people. I hope they keep the fire alive.
Students seem to really enjoy our classes. The numbers are really highboth at the church and at CUNORI. The attendance fluctuates, but it would be interesting to know how many different people we have taught since the year started. Spencer doesnt even attempt to keep a roll in the church class. The kids class that I teach at the church has never been advertized, but every week I get more students from just word of mouth. Attendance fluctuates there also, but the numbers are between 6-12 most weeks. That is a fun, but challenging class, because I have to create those lessons too. I have found some resources on the internet and from going through materials we have here and adapting them to kids. Sometimes an idea comes to me during the classand those flashes of inspiration are usually the best activity of the night.
We received news this last week from Dennis Call (who bought Phil Larsens cabin) that when he and his son went on snowmobiles to check all of the cabins, they found that a big tree had broken off and fallen over on our cabin. That wasnt our best news! We are waiting to get news on what it will take to fix it. We arent sure if it broke thru into the toy room or not. Curt Gillespie, from Vernon, is going to check it out as soon as he can get up therehe will probably have to borrow a snowmobile to do it.
Spencer has started spraying for ants and the fumes are killing me, so I have to get out of this part of the housethat is one way for him to be certain I keep this one short!
We love you. We miss you. We are counting down the days until Nathan and Christena get here! 28 days! Yeah!
Love,
Mom/Jeanine
Saturday, February 28
This is about half of the RS Sisters I taught in Esquipulas. Good experience at doing a "Capacitacion" in Spanish. Notice my really short hair? That is what happens when you go to the haircut and try to speak a foreign language. We were discussing 2-3 fingers (dedos) and I meant "cut" that much and she meant "leave" that much. Gulp. Oh well,she did it for free because I'm a missionary. Now it is REALLY EASY to take care of... Do you think I look like my mom? With the short haircut the resemblance gets stronger and stronger! But that is a good thing. Mom is one of my heroes in life.
Monday, February 23
The week of highs and lows!
February 22, 2009
Dear Loved Ones,
What an eventful week! A couple of deep low spots and lots of incredible high spots. So sit back and prepare for “another really long letter.” And thanks to all of you who responded—now Spencer can’t harass me about writing a long letter. Besides, he says he must really love me—because he worries about me—isn’t that romantic!?
When Nathan was on his mission in Costa Rica I remember him sending a picture home of one of his investigators who didn’t come to church. The missionaries went by and he was inside his house with the door open, but the outer door with bars was locked and he said he was locked in and couldn’t get out. That seemed like a flimsy excuse to me. But it is true that all doors and windows have bars (usually very decorative and beautiful) on every opening.
Last Sunday night, we met the 21 people who came from the US to provide free dental work. What great people. It was arranged that we would go with them on Monday morning at 7 AM. As you know, I was really excited about this. At our apartment we had been collecting water in buckets and containers all weekend because there were problems with the well and having water was very sporadic. On Monday morning, we had no water (again). I got ready, but Spencer wanted to heat up some of the saved water for a bath. We decided it would be fine if I took off—partly to get a good walk in that morning and just because I was too excited to just sit around waiting. On the way, I stopped at the church to use the bathroom—since they have toilets that flush! Seminary was just getting out at 6:50 so I didn’t even have to use my key to get in. When I left the bathroom and went to the front door, I discovered that everyone had left the building and the seminary teacher had used her key to lock the dead bolt. Guess what. Nate’s investigator was telling the truth. If you are locked in, you really can’t get out. Later, I learned that the Bishop had warned Spencer about this risk—but no one told me! I tried my key on the inside and it didn’t release the dead bolt. That has to be done with a key from the outside. I’m not really claustrophobic—tight places don’t bother me—but being somewhere without a way to get out really pushes my buttons. My heart started racing, my palms were sweating—I was on my way to a full blown panic attack. I immediately called Spencer’s cell phone, but he didn’t have it with him and he had left the house by then. I redialed him numerous times, even though I knew it was useless. I could only call numbers I had programmed in my phone. I called the Benson Institute where everyone was meeting, but the phones are inside the business offices and none of the employees were there yet. I also dialed them a bunch of times—in futile desperation. I called the husband of the Seminary teacher—who is one of my students and the former Stake President. His wife had the key. I told him I was really scared and think he knew I was about to panic. He said he would figure something out. I was doing everything I could to calm myself down—you know, self-talk, like, “This isn’t life threatening. You are safe. You might miss the outing, but life will go on.” etc. Since I didn’t know when/if Arnulfo would come, I eventually called the Stake President and he said he would come—but he lives a long way out from the church. I just kept praying to Heavenly Father so that I wouldn’t completely “lose it.” I told Him, “I can’t open this door, but you can.” I remembered where a window was broken in a class room. I checked there, but the bars on the window prevented an escape through that route. I went around and checked all of the doors and tried my key in each of them. Nothing. It was 7:10 by then. Those 20 minutes felt like that many hours. I was finally calming down and just letting it go. I gave up on getting to go with the dentists and tried to resolve myself to spending the day at home and studying. It was now 7:15 and even if I got out, I was many blocks away from the Benson Institute. Even though I was beginning to calm down, I was near tears and went back to the front door to wait for either Arnulfo or President Paiz. When I arrived at the front door, the dead bolt was unlocked. [No exclamation point here, because I felt humbled—not ecstatic—overwhelmed, loved, reassured, you name it…] I know it didn’t open with my key. I was reminded of my favorite scripture [which I “received” from Mom after she died—another long story that will have to wait for another “visit”] It is D&C 84:88 “…I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” I also thought of Joseph Smith’s quote to the early Relief Society sisters, “… If you live up to your privileges, the angels cannot be restrained from being your associates.” You can draw your own conclusions. I think you know mine. I haven’t had that direct of an answer to pray in a long time. I only share this with you because I trust you to treat it with sacredness.
As I reached the outside gate (also locked), Arnulfo was just entering it. He had gone to his wife’s school, retrieved the keys and rushed to my rescue. There wasn’t time to talk. I hugged him and said “I have to run—literally!” And I took off at a dead run—skirt flying and all. Arnulfo was also on foot, so he couldn’t help me further. I knew that my destination wasn’t on any of the normal bus routes, so I had to just run the whole way. I was actually tempted to hitch hike, but resisted—that’s how much I wanted to be able to go to the aldeas. As I was running as hard as I could down 3rd Calle, a bus driver pulled over and asked where I needed to go, I answered “17th Avenida and 3rd Calle.” He said, “I’ll take you.” Now you need to know that his bus was packed. I jumped into the very last seat and he took off down 3rd. Not one person complained about this unexpected detour. When we got to the right corner I held out Q2 for the ride and he refused it, “No hay pena!” basically, “It’s OK. Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t have time to argue the point, so I just yelled “Que le vaya bien” and ran across the street—where I could see that at least one of the trucks was still there!
My heart had barely slowed down from panicking, when I pumped it back up running. I was sweating and breathing hard—but I was there and they hadn’t left me behind! Spencer, of course, was very concerned, but had no idea where I could be, so he couldn’t really start searching. When I told him I had been locked in the church he started to laugh—probably just from sheer relief, but I still wanted to cry—and I said, “Don’t laugh. This isn’t funny yet. Maybe in another hour you can laugh. But first I have to have time to let my heart slow down and gather my wits about me.”
That was an incredibly awful and awesome experience all at the same time.
There has been one negative side affect. The hard run on these cobbly streets created some inflammation in the plantar fascia again (as you may remember, we had to delay two months on sending in our mission papers while I cleared up acute plantar fasciitis). I’m doing all of my exercises—icing it at night, heat in the morning, etc. and I think it is getting better.
The rest of the day was incredible! We went with two different teams to villages high in the mountains. The Chorti are the poorest of the indigenous Mayan groups. There are about seven dry months where crops don’t grow. They live on corn, black beans and a local grain. There is lots of malnutrition. Our clinic was set up in the open air under a tin roof attached to a sort of community center. We had three dentists and assistants and two other helpers. The wife of one of the dentist gave me her camera and asked if I would start taking pictures. They brought a printer and photo paper. At first they were shy and some said “no.” But once they realized I was truly giving pictures away “gratis.” I became the most popular person in the village. I should have had a marker to put dots on their foreheads, because some kids kept coming back for more. It was really funny once when I was taking one girl’s picture (about 13 y.o.) At the exact moment when I asked for a smile, her mother admonished her to be serious! Go figure. Some mothers took their children home and dressed them up in their best clothes and brought them back. The girls went home, slicked up their hair and put glitter on their faces for pictures. Most of them have never had a picture of themselves and they don’t have mirrors in their homes—that is a luxury, not a necessity. They are basically a shy people. When I gave them their pictures they had incredible smiles and were beaming as they looked at them—and then usually hid their picture under their blouse so other people wouldn’t see it. We took some family photos even. It was amazing. If you ever want to spread cheer, bring a camera, photo printer and lots of ink and paper to the aldeas of Guatemala. I also cleaned and sterilized dental instruments in between picture taking and printing. I translated some basic stuff for the one dentist who couldn’t speak Spanish. But if got too complicated we had to rely on the RM Spanish-speaking, dentists.
In the later afternoon we had time to walk to some of the houses in the village. I took a lot of pictures, which I will put on the blog. There was one little community farm shared by 25 families. They had probably 12 laying hens. Do the math. Each family could get one egg every other day—or something like that. The women climb down the hill to river every day to carry jugs of water up to their adobe or palm huts. They don’t have running water, plumbing or electricity, but they are a basically happy people who have adapted and survived. However, child deaths are very common and the life expectancy is short.
Now for Spencer’s report: “We drove up the side of the mountain on a breath taking narrow road, 4x4 required, to get to a 4 room school with an outside patio roof. The school personnel worked for 1 ½ hours to get the lights to work in the class room. They never did work right. They were going straight up a ladder supported by three men to try to get these old light bulbs turned on. They were standing straight up in the air in the middle of all the dental equipment and chairs. Luckily, they didn’t fall. We were just glad the fans worked, even if the lights didn’t. The work went on with flashlights and the dentists’ head lanterns. The natives who had signed up were standing in long lines to get in. Some were trembling and fearful. They had some rotten teeth extracted and there were also some teeth that could be saved with fillings. The dentists had me put on a glove and pick up a badly decayed molar that had just been extracted. He told me to take it out to all of the kids and the families and tell them that this problem was caused mainly because of lollipops (which they use to satisfy hunger pains). I took it out, showed it around and said, “No more bonbones! (suckers) I got lots of awe and laughter. Even though there were some terrified young people that the dentist could hardly extract teeth from, it was an act of kindness to relieve them from their pain. The village council and its members were sooo appreciative. We worked until almost 7 that night. We had to turn some away who hadn’t signed up and because we ran out of time. I asked the dentist what they were prying against to loosen those teeth and they said they preferred to not use the work “pry.” They give it some other glamorous name. It was a scene and an experience that I will always remember! At lunch, some of the community council invited me to eat with them. I couldn’t say no. Thankfully they offered me a Pepsi—which I drank, purely to kill the bacteria and safeguard my health, you know. There were angels round about. Viva Guatemala.”
Tuesday thru Thursday were crazy days with many classes—especially since we hadn’t had Monday to do lesson preparation. Once they opened up the Principiantes (beginning) class to 1st year medical students, Spencer’s morning class grew to 75. It was insane. But how do you turn people away who want to learn English? There were too many for them to get to speak much and he couldn’t get through the aisles to the back of the class room to listen or observe their work. So we are dividing the class and instead of team teaching with me in the afternoon for the Medical English Class, he will have a 2nd session for the principiantes. Darn. That was the only teaching we were going to be doing together.
Friday I went to the church to help (if needed) while the dentists were checking prospective and current missionaries. We had two prospective elders come in from Ipala—another little tiny branch in our mission. These two young men have no resources, so they had to have their examinations and all of their work done on the same day. No breaks, no return visits—get the teeth taken care of for their mission applications. They were pretty swollen and bleak looking by the time they left. I felt sorry for them!
In addition to being very busy with classes, I was trying to finish preparing the Leadership Training for the Relief Society Sisters in Esquipulas. Our training was Saturday afternoon. We took the bus up and arrived about 1 PM. We found the room arranged for us ($20) and went to have some lunch before going to the church. We went to nice restaurant. I had a great shrimp dinner and Spencer had a steak. The vegetables were pickled and hot (picante). As the meal ended, I realized I was having an allergic reaction—I’ve had them before, but we have no idea what the food allergy or food intolerance is to—so it is hard to avoid. Just ask Lark what I look like! I had one at the Pioneers’ Home one time and we thought it might be an external skin product that time. I don’t know if it was the shrimp, MSG, some spices in the vegetables or what. I was flushed and headachy. As we walked to the church I started getting welts on my neck, chest, back and hands. Once again I just prayed that I would be protected until I finished giving the presentation—that I had spent hours and hours and hours preparing. Spencer went to find a pharmacy. He brought me a powerful antihistamine. It slowed things down—but not before my right eye was puffy and swollen. But, I was able to give the presentation. Another tender mercy from the Lord. We had 12 sisters there (we thought 15 would be the maximum in this little Branch). They seemed to enjoy it. The Branch President was so happy with how we showed them to organize Visiting Teaching, that he asked us to postpone the training on preparing and teaching lessons. He wants Spencer to do basically the same presentation with the Priesthood brothers next month and help them organize home teaching. Even today the sisters were kind in their remarks and thanking me for the help.
Where we stayed was right across from the Mercado—much cleaner and much more “tipico” stuff than we have in Chiquimula. Here, it is mostly produce. There it caters to the tourists. Spencer bought a nice leather Guatemalan belt and he bought me a Guatemalan outfit—it was a lot of fun to finally find lots of stuff to choose from—it’s the first time we have spent much on clothes/souvenirs. I continued to have lots of allergy problems all night—mostly itching, but the hives decreased and became flat. Of course to accomplish that I took Benadryl and another dose of the Loratadine. So the allergic reaction was a second low spot in what was otherwise a great week. Satan surely tries to get his claws in there to discourage us when things are otherwise going great.
We are back home tonight, safe and sound. The hives are just red spots. The itching is minimal—and my foot (fasciitis) hasn’t hurt at all today (probably because we did considerably less walking on Saturday and Sunday). So life is good. We are ready to start another week. Maybe this one can be a little mellower!
We love you. Thank you for your prayers. You are among the most powerful sources of love, support and “angels” in our lives.
Mom/Jeanine
Dear Loved Ones,
What an eventful week! A couple of deep low spots and lots of incredible high spots. So sit back and prepare for “another really long letter.” And thanks to all of you who responded—now Spencer can’t harass me about writing a long letter. Besides, he says he must really love me—because he worries about me—isn’t that romantic!?
When Nathan was on his mission in Costa Rica I remember him sending a picture home of one of his investigators who didn’t come to church. The missionaries went by and he was inside his house with the door open, but the outer door with bars was locked and he said he was locked in and couldn’t get out. That seemed like a flimsy excuse to me. But it is true that all doors and windows have bars (usually very decorative and beautiful) on every opening.
Last Sunday night, we met the 21 people who came from the US to provide free dental work. What great people. It was arranged that we would go with them on Monday morning at 7 AM. As you know, I was really excited about this. At our apartment we had been collecting water in buckets and containers all weekend because there were problems with the well and having water was very sporadic. On Monday morning, we had no water (again). I got ready, but Spencer wanted to heat up some of the saved water for a bath. We decided it would be fine if I took off—partly to get a good walk in that morning and just because I was too excited to just sit around waiting. On the way, I stopped at the church to use the bathroom—since they have toilets that flush! Seminary was just getting out at 6:50 so I didn’t even have to use my key to get in. When I left the bathroom and went to the front door, I discovered that everyone had left the building and the seminary teacher had used her key to lock the dead bolt. Guess what. Nate’s investigator was telling the truth. If you are locked in, you really can’t get out. Later, I learned that the Bishop had warned Spencer about this risk—but no one told me! I tried my key on the inside and it didn’t release the dead bolt. That has to be done with a key from the outside. I’m not really claustrophobic—tight places don’t bother me—but being somewhere without a way to get out really pushes my buttons. My heart started racing, my palms were sweating—I was on my way to a full blown panic attack. I immediately called Spencer’s cell phone, but he didn’t have it with him and he had left the house by then. I redialed him numerous times, even though I knew it was useless. I could only call numbers I had programmed in my phone. I called the Benson Institute where everyone was meeting, but the phones are inside the business offices and none of the employees were there yet. I also dialed them a bunch of times—in futile desperation. I called the husband of the Seminary teacher—who is one of my students and the former Stake President. His wife had the key. I told him I was really scared and think he knew I was about to panic. He said he would figure something out. I was doing everything I could to calm myself down—you know, self-talk, like, “This isn’t life threatening. You are safe. You might miss the outing, but life will go on.” etc. Since I didn’t know when/if Arnulfo would come, I eventually called the Stake President and he said he would come—but he lives a long way out from the church. I just kept praying to Heavenly Father so that I wouldn’t completely “lose it.” I told Him, “I can’t open this door, but you can.” I remembered where a window was broken in a class room. I checked there, but the bars on the window prevented an escape through that route. I went around and checked all of the doors and tried my key in each of them. Nothing. It was 7:10 by then. Those 20 minutes felt like that many hours. I was finally calming down and just letting it go. I gave up on getting to go with the dentists and tried to resolve myself to spending the day at home and studying. It was now 7:15 and even if I got out, I was many blocks away from the Benson Institute. Even though I was beginning to calm down, I was near tears and went back to the front door to wait for either Arnulfo or President Paiz. When I arrived at the front door, the dead bolt was unlocked. [No exclamation point here, because I felt humbled—not ecstatic—overwhelmed, loved, reassured, you name it…] I know it didn’t open with my key. I was reminded of my favorite scripture [which I “received” from Mom after she died—another long story that will have to wait for another “visit”] It is D&C 84:88 “…I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.” I also thought of Joseph Smith’s quote to the early Relief Society sisters, “… If you live up to your privileges, the angels cannot be restrained from being your associates.” You can draw your own conclusions. I think you know mine. I haven’t had that direct of an answer to pray in a long time. I only share this with you because I trust you to treat it with sacredness.
As I reached the outside gate (also locked), Arnulfo was just entering it. He had gone to his wife’s school, retrieved the keys and rushed to my rescue. There wasn’t time to talk. I hugged him and said “I have to run—literally!” And I took off at a dead run—skirt flying and all. Arnulfo was also on foot, so he couldn’t help me further. I knew that my destination wasn’t on any of the normal bus routes, so I had to just run the whole way. I was actually tempted to hitch hike, but resisted—that’s how much I wanted to be able to go to the aldeas. As I was running as hard as I could down 3rd Calle, a bus driver pulled over and asked where I needed to go, I answered “17th Avenida and 3rd Calle.” He said, “I’ll take you.” Now you need to know that his bus was packed. I jumped into the very last seat and he took off down 3rd. Not one person complained about this unexpected detour. When we got to the right corner I held out Q2 for the ride and he refused it, “No hay pena!” basically, “It’s OK. Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t have time to argue the point, so I just yelled “Que le vaya bien” and ran across the street—where I could see that at least one of the trucks was still there!
My heart had barely slowed down from panicking, when I pumped it back up running. I was sweating and breathing hard—but I was there and they hadn’t left me behind! Spencer, of course, was very concerned, but had no idea where I could be, so he couldn’t really start searching. When I told him I had been locked in the church he started to laugh—probably just from sheer relief, but I still wanted to cry—and I said, “Don’t laugh. This isn’t funny yet. Maybe in another hour you can laugh. But first I have to have time to let my heart slow down and gather my wits about me.”
That was an incredibly awful and awesome experience all at the same time.
There has been one negative side affect. The hard run on these cobbly streets created some inflammation in the plantar fascia again (as you may remember, we had to delay two months on sending in our mission papers while I cleared up acute plantar fasciitis). I’m doing all of my exercises—icing it at night, heat in the morning, etc. and I think it is getting better.
The rest of the day was incredible! We went with two different teams to villages high in the mountains. The Chorti are the poorest of the indigenous Mayan groups. There are about seven dry months where crops don’t grow. They live on corn, black beans and a local grain. There is lots of malnutrition. Our clinic was set up in the open air under a tin roof attached to a sort of community center. We had three dentists and assistants and two other helpers. The wife of one of the dentist gave me her camera and asked if I would start taking pictures. They brought a printer and photo paper. At first they were shy and some said “no.” But once they realized I was truly giving pictures away “gratis.” I became the most popular person in the village. I should have had a marker to put dots on their foreheads, because some kids kept coming back for more. It was really funny once when I was taking one girl’s picture (about 13 y.o.) At the exact moment when I asked for a smile, her mother admonished her to be serious! Go figure. Some mothers took their children home and dressed them up in their best clothes and brought them back. The girls went home, slicked up their hair and put glitter on their faces for pictures. Most of them have never had a picture of themselves and they don’t have mirrors in their homes—that is a luxury, not a necessity. They are basically a shy people. When I gave them their pictures they had incredible smiles and were beaming as they looked at them—and then usually hid their picture under their blouse so other people wouldn’t see it. We took some family photos even. It was amazing. If you ever want to spread cheer, bring a camera, photo printer and lots of ink and paper to the aldeas of Guatemala. I also cleaned and sterilized dental instruments in between picture taking and printing. I translated some basic stuff for the one dentist who couldn’t speak Spanish. But if got too complicated we had to rely on the RM Spanish-speaking, dentists.
In the later afternoon we had time to walk to some of the houses in the village. I took a lot of pictures, which I will put on the blog. There was one little community farm shared by 25 families. They had probably 12 laying hens. Do the math. Each family could get one egg every other day—or something like that. The women climb down the hill to river every day to carry jugs of water up to their adobe or palm huts. They don’t have running water, plumbing or electricity, but they are a basically happy people who have adapted and survived. However, child deaths are very common and the life expectancy is short.
Now for Spencer’s report: “We drove up the side of the mountain on a breath taking narrow road, 4x4 required, to get to a 4 room school with an outside patio roof. The school personnel worked for 1 ½ hours to get the lights to work in the class room. They never did work right. They were going straight up a ladder supported by three men to try to get these old light bulbs turned on. They were standing straight up in the air in the middle of all the dental equipment and chairs. Luckily, they didn’t fall. We were just glad the fans worked, even if the lights didn’t. The work went on with flashlights and the dentists’ head lanterns. The natives who had signed up were standing in long lines to get in. Some were trembling and fearful. They had some rotten teeth extracted and there were also some teeth that could be saved with fillings. The dentists had me put on a glove and pick up a badly decayed molar that had just been extracted. He told me to take it out to all of the kids and the families and tell them that this problem was caused mainly because of lollipops (which they use to satisfy hunger pains). I took it out, showed it around and said, “No more bonbones! (suckers) I got lots of awe and laughter. Even though there were some terrified young people that the dentist could hardly extract teeth from, it was an act of kindness to relieve them from their pain. The village council and its members were sooo appreciative. We worked until almost 7 that night. We had to turn some away who hadn’t signed up and because we ran out of time. I asked the dentist what they were prying against to loosen those teeth and they said they preferred to not use the work “pry.” They give it some other glamorous name. It was a scene and an experience that I will always remember! At lunch, some of the community council invited me to eat with them. I couldn’t say no. Thankfully they offered me a Pepsi—which I drank, purely to kill the bacteria and safeguard my health, you know. There were angels round about. Viva Guatemala.”
Tuesday thru Thursday were crazy days with many classes—especially since we hadn’t had Monday to do lesson preparation. Once they opened up the Principiantes (beginning) class to 1st year medical students, Spencer’s morning class grew to 75. It was insane. But how do you turn people away who want to learn English? There were too many for them to get to speak much and he couldn’t get through the aisles to the back of the class room to listen or observe their work. So we are dividing the class and instead of team teaching with me in the afternoon for the Medical English Class, he will have a 2nd session for the principiantes. Darn. That was the only teaching we were going to be doing together.
Friday I went to the church to help (if needed) while the dentists were checking prospective and current missionaries. We had two prospective elders come in from Ipala—another little tiny branch in our mission. These two young men have no resources, so they had to have their examinations and all of their work done on the same day. No breaks, no return visits—get the teeth taken care of for their mission applications. They were pretty swollen and bleak looking by the time they left. I felt sorry for them!
In addition to being very busy with classes, I was trying to finish preparing the Leadership Training for the Relief Society Sisters in Esquipulas. Our training was Saturday afternoon. We took the bus up and arrived about 1 PM. We found the room arranged for us ($20) and went to have some lunch before going to the church. We went to nice restaurant. I had a great shrimp dinner and Spencer had a steak. The vegetables were pickled and hot (picante). As the meal ended, I realized I was having an allergic reaction—I’ve had them before, but we have no idea what the food allergy or food intolerance is to—so it is hard to avoid. Just ask Lark what I look like! I had one at the Pioneers’ Home one time and we thought it might be an external skin product that time. I don’t know if it was the shrimp, MSG, some spices in the vegetables or what. I was flushed and headachy. As we walked to the church I started getting welts on my neck, chest, back and hands. Once again I just prayed that I would be protected until I finished giving the presentation—that I had spent hours and hours and hours preparing. Spencer went to find a pharmacy. He brought me a powerful antihistamine. It slowed things down—but not before my right eye was puffy and swollen. But, I was able to give the presentation. Another tender mercy from the Lord. We had 12 sisters there (we thought 15 would be the maximum in this little Branch). They seemed to enjoy it. The Branch President was so happy with how we showed them to organize Visiting Teaching, that he asked us to postpone the training on preparing and teaching lessons. He wants Spencer to do basically the same presentation with the Priesthood brothers next month and help them organize home teaching. Even today the sisters were kind in their remarks and thanking me for the help.
Where we stayed was right across from the Mercado—much cleaner and much more “tipico” stuff than we have in Chiquimula. Here, it is mostly produce. There it caters to the tourists. Spencer bought a nice leather Guatemalan belt and he bought me a Guatemalan outfit—it was a lot of fun to finally find lots of stuff to choose from—it’s the first time we have spent much on clothes/souvenirs. I continued to have lots of allergy problems all night—mostly itching, but the hives decreased and became flat. Of course to accomplish that I took Benadryl and another dose of the Loratadine. So the allergic reaction was a second low spot in what was otherwise a great week. Satan surely tries to get his claws in there to discourage us when things are otherwise going great.
We are back home tonight, safe and sound. The hives are just red spots. The itching is minimal—and my foot (fasciitis) hasn’t hurt at all today (probably because we did considerably less walking on Saturday and Sunday). So life is good. We are ready to start another week. Maybe this one can be a little mellower!
We love you. Thank you for your prayers. You are among the most powerful sources of love, support and “angels” in our lives.
Mom/Jeanine
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