mission work

one of the "unknowns" about me is that i do mission work. this comes as a surprise to many of my friends and people that i know because i guess i come off as some sort of heathen. it's true, i don't follow any organized religion other than my "church of john." this doesn't mean i'm not spiritual, i just find that my beliefs don't seem to fit into any organized religion that i know of.

my first mission work, which at that time i guess was or wasn't a mission in a quasi sort of way, was with a group called "asista," headed up by rita, a spanish teacher at bellevue community college. i was attending classes there, working on my fire administration degree when i received a letter from bcc asking if i was interested in an immersion program -- studying in a foreign country.

i previously had no idea what an immersion program was, but thought the idea of visiting a foreign country, while studying and earning college credits, was something i might be interested in. so i gave bcc a call and signed up for the intro program.

i'm an air force brat. we traveled to a new location about every three or four years. washington, alaska, kansas, germany, michigan -- with a few short stays at other states tucked in between. dad left us for a year while he went to canada when we were stationed in michigan during our fourth year and we ended up doing two tours of duty in michigan (our longest tour), which is were he retired from, traveling back to his home in washington afterwards.

it is pretty hard to make lasting friends as a military brat. about every four years you pack up everything you own and head off to a new location. as have your friends. additionally, you really have no roots -- no attic to store your stuff. i was pretty tired of moving and just wanted to stay stuck.

but my second wife was an adventurer. as a child her aunt would pack her and her brother into the car, see how much money they had, and go until it was half spent, then head back. a bit of her adventurous spirit rubbed off on me when her and i journeyed to france two weeks before the 50th anniversary of d-day. we left for 10 days in france with only return tickets, a car rental, and two days reservations in paris. the rest of the time we were on our own -- and working off credit cards because we hadn't budgeted. her motto was take the trip, then figure out how to pay for it. we had a great time with very few problems. and the french treated us very well.

anyway ... it's evening, and now i'm sitting in a large classroom at bcc listening to instructors tell us about their immersion programs; a quarter in france learning about european architecture; a quarter in australia learning history; a quarter in england studying art. lots of programs, all a full quarter long, until ... up steps this short latino-looking woman with a funny accent. rita, one of the spanish teachers at bcc, tells us about her trips to guatemala studying spanish and indiginous culture. and its not a full quarter, but only three weeks. i could probably get three weeks off work.

so i listen to rita's presentation and spend a lot of time going through her photos and asking questions. i'm the only one interested in guatemala. just about everybody else is talking to the australia presenter, and a few at the other presenter's tables. before leaving i make an appointment to talk to rita in the next week and head home to see if i can find guatemala on the map, cuz i'm not sure where it is, other than it's south -- maybe a long ways south -- of where i am.

my first trip to guatemala with rita was a blast. it was also an adventure. rita is a lovely, heartful, compassionate woman, but she definitely operates in latino mode -- schedules are made but are usually only close to being on time. really, the best you can hope for is that whatever is scheduled will occur on the same day. don't get me wrong. i'm not making fun of her. she is a wonderful woman who is out making the world a better place. i love her and owe her more than she can imagine.

we toured guatemala. visited ruins. learned about its recent violent history. saw poverty and sickness i could never have imagined. learned some spanish. supported a girl's school. smuggled in computers and electronics. and had fun. i am truly a better person today because of rita and my first guatemala experience.

since that first trip i've been to guatemala three more times with rita. also peru and argentina. with each trip i've learned more about not only the people of this world, but mostly about myself. i will be forever grateful to rita.

now i'm traveling with a medical group called "hands of love" out of arlington. this will be my fourth year with them. we supply basic medical and dental needs to indigenous people in remote villages. the first year we went to a small village called san gabriel. the next two years at a smaller village called el paraiso (the paradise). we are going to el paraiso again this year.

the group is sponsored by the nazarene church, although no members of the group are nazarenes. we're kinda all around the church dial, me being the most non-churchy of the group, which doesn't seem to bother anybody. i join in the singing and praying just like i knew what i was doing. and i'm really thankful that they've never asked me to lead in prayer! these are great, giving people.

el paraiso is small, in the middle of nowehere, in the middle of a nowhere jungle. its main structure is the nazarene church, which is where we set up our clinic. there is no running water and little electricity. our first year there we used pit toilets and showered with buckets of water from cisterns that filled only when it rained. the second year they had a surprise for us; they built us flush toilets and real showers. the pressure for the toilets and showers was supplied by pumping the water into a high cistern and letting gravity do the hard work. it was wonderful, and the villagers were very proud of their work.

there are few people in the village, but we have lots of patients. i'm not sure where they all come from, but for five days we see people from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. with an hour lunch break. newborns, elderly, and everybody in between. sick and sicker, and some whom i'm sure didn't make it through the year. our dentists are really put to work. the record for teeth pulled from one person is 18. these villagers do not speak spanish. they speak quiche, a mayan dialect. it takes two interpreters, one english to spanish, and one spanish to quiche.

it can get hot and uncomfortable in the village. tarantulas, scorpions, and centipedes are common. as well as the diarrhea i (and others), sometimes get from giardia and other intenstinal bugs. we sleep in tents inside the church to keep the bugs off. it's malaria country. but these people are friendly, hard workers, and happy that we are there.

i can't help but think that if everyone had the chance to come do this the world would be a much better place. we're really all in this together. everybody deserves an education, health care, and safe and sanitary living conditions. no matter where you live, what faith you practice, or the color of your skin. it's just basic. and it's what keeps me coming back year after year.

i love this work. hell, i pay to do it. and i'm heading off to guatemala wednesday with hands of love to do it again. so please, wish me well. i'll be back with more tales of adventure and pictures to show.