During the middle of the night I woke up with a dry throat and when I took a sip of water and realized that it didn’t go away, I knew what was coming—a cold. It happened last year at exactly the same time, so I was prepared for it, but I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with it this year. Oh well. It’s a blessing, right?
We left in the morning for the monastery and site of the new orphanage. I was looking forward to seeing the progress and getting to spend some time with Mother Ines, who is the abbess of the monastery. I was disappointed to see that very little work has been done with the construction of the new orphanage since last year because of the lack of funds. God willing, they will receive the money they need to finish. I know it will happen, I just hope it happens soon. The children are currently living in a neighborhood where prostitution is legal, and alive and well just outside their doors. They deserve more than the violence, drugs, filth, and corruption that surrounds them. No one deserves that, least of all innocent children.
Construction of the new orphanage
View of lake Amatitlan from the terrace of the orphanage
View from inside the orphanage
View from inside the orphanage
Mother Ines told us a little bit about the change in adoption laws in Guatemala which have essentially stopped all international adoptions, and what that means for orphanages. She told us about the many threats they receive from the government to sign papers that would affect the orphanage and how they refuse to sign anything that isn’t in the best interest of the children. The amazing thing is that these nuns never asked for this orphanage and these children. “When we were first asked to take the children in 1996 we saw the terrible conditions they were living in. Most of them had scabies and we had to burn all of their clothes. We tried to save some things but it was impossible. There were about 170 children. We couldn’t say no. We can’t say no.” She explained how because of the pressure that they are receiving from the government, they will simply stop calling it an orphanage and call it a boarding school instead. As the construction of the new orphanage progresses, she tells us how they are making plans for many more children that they anticipate the government will dump on them. “We build rooms and spaces that can be used for many different things. There is a good chance we will be asked to take in more children and so we are preparing for that. It is not possible for us to say no.”
After the orphanage tour we headed to the monastery, which is a little piece of heaven on earth. The nuns receive a lot of criticism because the new monastery church is such a beautiful and expensive building. “People say, ‘look at these nuns and how they spend their money on their beautiful church instead of the children.’” What they don’t realize is that their monastery was built with their own inheritance and donations of generous people who realize the importance of having this spiritual hospital in such a broken country. Not one penny of the orphanage goes to the monastery. Their monastery has been their home for almost 25 years, long before they started caring for the children at the orphanage. They all have particular talents that they use to support the monastery. Mother Ivonne for example is a skilled biologist who creates a small line of natural medicines that she sells. She has successfully treated cancer patients and 6 HIV patients, along with a host of other ailments from people who come to them seeking spiritual and physical healing. She has a small lab at the current orphanage that she rents for $100 a month. Can you imagine that? She rents a space in her own home. But that’s not the amazing thing. What blows me away is that they don’t feel the need to defend themselves to their critics. “People criticize us and we give it to God. They criticize without knowing and one day they will have to face God for the terrible things they say.”
I was so happy to see that the iconography inside the monastery church was complete. It is stunning. There are no photos that could come close to doing it justice. We sang a few hymns from memory and the sound of our voices rising high above the domed ceiling toward the icon of Christ the Pantocrator was beautiful and humbling. I didn’t want it to end. I could stay there for hours looking at the larger than life icons of the saints that surrounded me. The story of man’s salvation—the story of my salvation—was pictured all around me, and for the first time in my life, it made more sense than it ever has. The monastery is what every church is intended to be: a little heaven on earth; a reflection of the heavenly kingdom that we look toward and one day hope to be a part of. I don’t like leaving because every step further out the door is a step toward a world that tries to keep me away from that heavenly place.
All good things must come to an end and we left the monastery for our first meal out at a place called Kacao, an upscale restaurant shaped like a giant hut featuring traditional Guatemalan cuisine. I had “Lasagna Mayan” which was incredible. It was made with corn tortillas, cheese, shredded chicken, and the sweetest tomatoes I’ve ever tasted. It was nice to spend the evening with the team and relax a little. Good food, good company. What more could you ask for?
When we got back to the hogar, we had a big night ahead of us. Fr. John, Deacon Mark, and I got to work cutting down our giant PVC pipe with hand saws. The girls were mentally preparing for the arm workout that was to come. After dinner we had about 15 minutes to prepare our surprise for the kids. Peel, slice, scoop drizzle. A little more duct tape over here please. Scoop, drizzle, sprinkle, plop. Plop plop plop. Lights out. Cue the song. Shh!!! Whisper whisper, “Don’t touch the table!” Lights on…gasp!…..and thus commenced the greatest dessert moment in hogar history. Our 27 foot banana split masterpiece, shining in all of it’s melty sugary glory. Piles of bananas, 4 gallons of Neapolitan ice cream, 2 pounds of chocolate syrup, 2 cans of whipped cream, pink and purple sprinkles, and 100 maraschino cherries to top it all off. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. The kids grabbed their spoons and attacked with full force. It was gone in no time.
What could you possibly consider doing after consuming 27 feet of ice cream you ask? Dance party of course! And so once again, we Waka-Waka’d the night away to the same 4 songs from the World Cup soundtrack. Mother Ivonne was more than happy to let them dance their hearts out, as it was the easiest and most effective way for them to shake out all of the sugar from their systems before bedtime. And so we danced until the stars came out and the brain freezes went away. It was another perfect day at the hogar and the children wished us a goodnight with the sweetest (and stickiest) hugs and smiles we’ve seen yet.
Below is a video of Belia dancing with me. She has the greatest laugh in the world.
