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… and it was!

(added after returning from Honduras Jan 30, 2009)

John Hall

But to most of us nowadays, hearing “E. coli” strikes a chord of fear, reminding us of massive recalls of hamburger, spinach and so on, and the sickness and death that go along with such contaminations. These are the bad E. coli strains, that cause the great majority of gastrointestinal infections – i.e. food poisoning.

Guatemala is a fertile breeding ground for bad E. coli.

You’ll remember from an earlier post (see “Facts and Figures” below), that diarrhea is the leading cause of death in Guatemalan children under the age of 5. It’s the third leading cause of death in the general population of Guatemala. Bad E. coli at work.

You’ve read about pigs in people’s backyards, and field workers living in shanties with no bathrooms, and about barefoot kids running through puddles leaking from outhouses. And you’ve heard me say a couple of times how we team members were repeatedly warned not to drink the water, eat the local food (especially produce) or even brush our teeth with tap water. And our tap water, at the La FeViva conference center where we stayed was coming from a well that was over 50 feet deep!

Somehow, some way, some bad E. coli came home with me from Guatemala. It could have been from singing in the shower (one sure way to distract myself from the fact that we had no hot water!). It could have been something I ate. But more than likely it was from touching so many Guatemalan people.

My role in the team was just getting to be me (see “What I Did There” below). I was having fun connecting with the people, with the culture. But I did touch. I did hug. I did slap hands, and hold babies. Sure, I had little bottles of disinfectant, but I couldn’t be using that every minute or two!

Anyway, by the time I got back to the USA, I had fever, headache, diarrhea, and a few other annoying symptoms. Then they went away. A few weeks later a different set of symptoms came around. A round of antibiotics knocked it out – or so we thought. A few weeks after that, I was back in the doctor’s office (he’s become a very good friend:)) with another set of symptoms, and just generally not feeling good – but nothing we could really nail down.

Two days later, right in the middle of playing with the kids, it hit me like a boulder! Super headache (I never get headaches), too dizzy to stand up, big time fever. I crashed hard, and lay all night long burning up or shaking with chills.

Next morning, it took the doctor about 5 minutes to run a quick test and tell me I had an E. coli infection that had spread into my kidneys and from there into my blood stream. Apparently E. coli can be good at playing hide and seek with antibiotics. Thankfully another double dose round, and I was feeling fine 5 days later.

Believe it or not, this wasn’t the end of my E. coli battle – it popped up one more time in similar fashion – but I won’t bore you with more health report details. Suffice to say, some months later, my body is whole and healthy.

In Guatemala, with the lack of health care, especially in rural areas, I very likely could have died.

And that’s my real point here, my friends. People in Guatemala need help with really basic things – like water purification methods, knowledge of basic personal health and sanitation, even just having toothbrushes. Everything, anything we can do to help break the cycle of pollution, poverty and ignorance, is taking them one more step toward not needing our help, toward being able to take care of themselves. And in the process, we’re touching lives in very deep, very real ways – and that can have eternal significance.

At the end of the last clinic day, as we were wrapping things up, I reached out to shake the hand of one of the Guatemalans who had been helping us that day. Instinctively he pulled back, and said something like, “No way, man! You’ve been touching all those people out on the street.” I’m not passing judgment on him – he was just doing what he felt was safe by his standards.

But I will say this: I would not have changed anything I did while I was with those wonderful people in Guatemala, because as Patrick I believe it was later said, “They are worth it. They deserve to be loved.” And the people of Guatemala, even those carrying all sorts of E. coli bacterium, are just as important to God as you or I.

Jesus would have touched them and loved on them, and so would I.

Editor’s Note: In an ideal world, every post on any given blog would be a stand alone wonder of writing and communication.  Seldom is that the case.  Yet when a new reader comes to a blog, it’s often intimidating to scroll all the way to the very beginning (WAY DOWN THERE!) and sort through months worth of posts.  Thus, now and then I’m going to repost some of the messages that are foundational to this blog.  Enjoy )

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I knew nothing much about Guatemala. Central America. Nice climate. Mayan Empire. Sugar cane, mangoes and coffee beans for Starbucks. A huge supplier of child adoptions for American families. Probably could find it on the map without much looking.

This all changed two weeks ago when I actually went there. My life changed then, too. But before I tell you that story, I need to back up into 2007 …

… to a time when my dear friend Cathey told me all about her trip a year earlier. I know she has a huge, caring heart – and especially for children, and she’d hooked up her skills as a pharmacist with a team of medical folks, all of whom spent a week in rural Guatemala providing free medical and dental care to people who typically have none. She told me what a big impact that trip had on her life. She showed me pictures. Then out of the blue she challenged me to go on the next trip.

Call it an adventurous spirit; call it divine guidance; call it crazy – but I’ve found that sometimes in life decisions don’t need to take a long time. About 35 seconds in this case. My heart led the way, and I signed up to be part of what would eventually become a team of 32 Americans, from Tennessee, Alabama, Kentucky and Oregon (don’t even ask me how Oregon got in there – it’s just that kind of place!), flying off to Guatemala. Nurses, doctors, a dentist, a pharmacist, a factory worker, a retired guy, a photographer (and hi tech wizard), a couple of preacher’s sons, and me – a writer.

So despite the gigantic title of this blog, I can promise you right now that it isn’t going to be a travelogue of all the cool places to visit and sights to see in the country of Guatemala. National Geographic isn’t funding a single page (though they were thoughtful enough to include an article in the February ‘08 edition: see “Mexico’s Other Border”).

And as beautiful as things looked from the airplane, the Guatemala I saw could better be described with words like dusty brown, smelly, polluted, poverty stricken. Not a pretty picture. That is unless you’re one of those wonderful people who regard reaching out to people desperately clinging to the bottom rung of life, complete with diseases, rotten teeth, little hope, and surviving one meal to the next, as pretty.

I had the very good fortune of spending eight days of my life with 31 souls who do.

So read on – but at your own peril, knowing that your life may never be the same. I know mine won’t. I wouldn’t have it any other way …

And don’t think all we readers didn’t notice how you waited until James was already committed to med school, before making your jump to seminary. No way he could copycat you this time, right?!

Kidding aside, Adam, rich blessings to you in this endeavor!

Adam teasing thirsty Guatemalan woman

James and Adam Jones

Adam and James were part of our medical mission team. The more I got to know them, the more I found myself wondering just why they weren’t writing for Saturday Night Live. They might as well have been, because they knew nearly every line of nearly every show from memory. All one of them had to do was drop a line, and the other chimed in the next, and off they would go – doing the whole script, and without ever cracking up – which they left to all those whole were listening. But without a doubt their impromptu, original one-liners and comic dialogs were just as good as anything SNL has ever done!

Quit elbowing, Adam!

How good to see two brothers who grew up pounding each other into the turf (or through the living room window in one instance – just ask James how that felt), now getting along famously.  Yet what a contrast in personalities and interests.

Well maybe that wasn’t always the case, as Adam insists to this day that James was a copycat. But then somewhere along the way James also became the record holder for 3 point shooting at his High School (dang, if only I’d known this when picking basketball teams!); and Adam has become a musician.

Adam singing Hotel California

But they still have a lot in common. They’re both sons of a Southern Baptist preacher. Southern Baptist and SNL … hmmmm. They both have hearts of gold, which they give away freely. They both worked tirelessly day after day in our clinics in Guatemala. They both love Jesus, and work to know him better every day – though first born Adam claims to work harder at it than James ever can!

On the other hand, James points out that Adam doesn’t remember the exact day and place of his conversion experience, whereas James does – in front of the kitchen sink. That’s different. But certainly better in front of the kitchen sink than under it, or behind it, in it!

Awwwwww

Finally, to dispel the mystery that I’m sure has had you all hanging on the edge of your seats throughout this post, Adam is the brother in the college admissions department – the very prestigious Belmont University in Nashville, TN. If you have a prayer of getting into that institution, you’re gonna have to go through Adam to do it!

Copycat James has finally found his own unique path in the medical field – currently as a nurse, but soon to start med school.

Buddies

Bless you Jones Brothers – the trip wouldn’t have been the same without you – and not nearly as fun either.

Beat ya, James!

There sat The Simpsons!

Yes, this was the theater display to promote The Simpsons Movie last year. I like the satire that The Simpsons give on our society. So it’s only natural that this life sized version ended up in my living room. A conversation piece to say the least!  But then they started taking up too much room and eventually were relegated to the garage

The Simpsons Right At Home

They’re hollow fiberglass figurines – not heavy at all. All the accessory pieces are clip together cardboard. Not for the faint of heart, or squarely inside the box kinda person, but I could sure see them in a party room, a studio or a daycare or school room. They’re worth whatever you’re willing to give, so make me an offer.

Meanwhile, a few paragraphs ago, you might just have found yourself wondering how it is that I could have come to a point where I did not notice four life sized, brightly colored, humanoid objects sitting on a cardboard sofa right in the middle of my garage. Good question.

But the answer is obvious: we humans have a remarkable ability to see what we want to see, and ignore the rest. Things we don’t want to deal with become kind of invisible, even if we have to step over them to get to the closet! The same thing is true for stuff we don’t want to give up.

Sadly this truth isn’t just about material possessions. It’s also true about what goes on in our minds and in our spirits. Old habits, destructive behaviors, rationalized sins, all can become invisible if we don’t keep our inside house clean.

Take a look at the stuff of your life, just to see what might have stacked up in your “garage” – look at what might have become a treasure even if it’s not useful, and might even be getting in the way … as in getting in the way of you becoming who God intended you to be; or getting in the way of your destiny.

Live Sized! No Joke

“Stuff” can mean a lot of different things in our language. That word can refer to physical objects, social behaviors, attitudes and opinions, and on and on. Going to Guatemala earlier this year as part of a medical mission team certainly stirred my life in a way that made me aware of lots of different kinds of “stuff” that needed sorting out, rearranging, and in some cases, getting rid of.

John's Hoosier Cabinet

When I wrote the post “Selling Stuff” though, I was thinking about material possessions. Not only did I realize that I had more than I wanted to manage and maintain, I also realized that those things could be converted into cash, which in turn could be used to help the people of Guatemala.

If you’ve been reading this blog along the way, you know that the church people we worked alongside in Guazacapan, have welcomed me to come back and help start English classes for the city – perhaps even leading to starting a full blown school there. That sounds like my kind of assignment, given my educator’s background and my love for people. I’m praying about doing it – and that’s one of the things my “Selling Stuff” fund may well be used for. There are many other needs there, as I’m sure you are well aware.

So I dived into ebay, craigslist, the community bulletin board and my network of friends, to start selling stuff and to start a fund for my new Guatemalan friends. All this got off to a successful start. Then came Summer Break for my kids, and this and that, and here it is August. This morning I looked around the house, and there sets my beautiful antique Hoosier Cabinet – taking up space, not really used. Hmmm – how did that escape being sold a few months ago?? Could it be lack of diligence and follow through on my part? Or was it perhaps subconscious procrastination because I’m attached to it?

Well whatever, it’s got to go! I don’t want it just sitting there as a showpiece. And I sure don’t want to keep it if there’s some kind of emotional attachment. Sure, it’s special, but it’s also just a piece of furniture – and one that I’m not making good use of.

Sooooooo … here’s a picture of my Hoosier Cabinet.  It’s very old, very restored, very useful, very pretty.  The appraisal is between $1200-1400. Maybe this Hoosier Cabinet belongs in your house, where it will be used day in and day out. Where it will be useful domestically and useful in knowing that you contributed to the lives of some people who are desperately clinging to the bottom rung of life…

John's Hoosier Cabinet wide open:)

Good questions – especially since I didn’t have a clue myself what I might be doing when I signed up for this trip. I just knew the Spirit had said “Go!”, so I went. Of course, being the adventurous type, I fantasized myself in grass huts, sun beating down, sweat pouring from my brow, dust stirring beneath my feet as I lovingly cleaned wounds, held snotty nose children and sympathetically pulled rotten teeth. Parts of this picture were absolutely accurate. Me as Dr. Livingston was not.

So, what did I actually end up doing? Well a little of this, a little of that – mostly just being myself – which is easy enough. At the airport, I was a porter stacking crates and tossing luggage. On the first clinic day, I directed traffic – as in getting patients sorted out and into the right clinic rooms. I also became the Fan Man (read my post below entitled: “New Aromas”) in the dental clinic. And I bribed, I mean, made friends with the local police simply by acting like a dumb gringo (no act) and passing out boxes of Chiclets. And I held a little girl’s head after she passed out. I told jokes, learned Spanish phrases, put together a basketball tournament, signed a copy of one of my kids’ books for a Guatemalan family (who couldn’t read a word of English), and generally zipped around doing whatever I could to be involved – just like any other day of my life. Except in this case, on this trip, in this country, there were so many opportunities, so many people in need, and all so receptive to the help.

That was Day 1.

On Day 2, I assembled part of a used dental chair that had been donated to the orphanage across the street from where we were HQd. I tripped over some pieces of reinforcing rod that had been used to hold concrete forms, and were dangerously sticking up right along a walk way. So a couple of orphans and I got a hammer and had fun driving that ‘rebar’ deep into the ground. I played with kids, played basketball, read, talked, learned, got to know a lot more about some of the other team members, and ended the day with an awesome church service (see my post below entitled: “El Shaddai Service”)

But Day 3 was when things really hit stride – when I really found my niche – found how I could most be a contributing part of the team. And not surprisingly, it was simply by being me!

Being me usually involves people, and especially kids. And that usually equates to having fun, being goofy, making new friends and making people feel good, making them laugh. Susan introduced me to a plastic crate full of crayons, stickers, V-day hearts and crafts, and what quickly became my #2 prop – a simple stamp and red ink pad. A butterfly – mariposa in Espanol – that very obviously had a mind of its own as it took wing to leave crimson impressions on people’s cheeks, foreheads, hands, arms. As much as I tried to control the actions of this simple little mariposa – butterfly in English – its actions got more and more outlandish every hour of every day we were in Guatemala!

Thus I became the roving minstrel, the court jester – out on the sidewalk or the street working the crowd. Butterfly images all over everybody. Hugging, making fun of my six basic Spanish phrases, high fiving, tripping over my own feet, stopping traffic in the middle of the street just so I could say ‘HI’ to the drivers, and teaching Guatemalan kids the ‘splat’ (if you don’t know, I’ll show you next time we’re hangin’ out). And, yeah, this is the part where holding snotty nosed babies came true.

But as popular as the mariposa (you know what that means in English now, right?) became, my #1 prop by far was candy. And not just any candy, but magic candy!! Of course I didn’t know it was magic when I bought it by the bag full at Wal-Mart in Franklin, Tennessee. I was just following the suggestion of my dear and missions-hearted friend, Julie Riedel. She’s been there, done that, so if she said take bags of candy, then I was going to stuff as many pounds into my duffel as possible.

Amazingly, from the minute I opened that first bag and filled my cargo pant pockets, it was obvious some magic had made its way into my luggage. Either that or the sugar content was radically altered by being closer to the Equator! Candy started appearing from everywhere! From inside old men’s cowboy hats, from little boys’ pockets, and almost always from deep within little girls’ ponytails. It was amazing. Just shake the ponytail, and out would cascade candy – and usually in just the right quantity for every member of that family unit to get exactly one piece!  It worked for pigtails, too!!

Cheap tricks, sure. Amatuerish slight of hand, absolutely. But did it ever delight the crowd. And isn’t it refreshing to imagine a culture where a single piece of candy was deeply appreciated. Think about that for a minute, will you please?

And then there were stacks of plain photocopy paper originally intended for one or another craft project, but being much more artsy than craftsy, I soon gave up on origami and started a paper airplane factory instead. The sky was filled with aeronautical wonders zipping, zooming, zagging. One day, I had an impormptu (does that word kinda describe my whole involvement here?!) contest to see who could fly a plane right into my wide open mouth. Nobody won, but one flight came close enough to zap me right in the heart area of my chest. Feigning impalement, I staggered backward, forward, sideways, before collapsing flat on my back on the asphalt, grasping the plane as it still ‘protruded’ from my chest, legs twitching, body quivering just before my last gasp! Everybody within 50 feet cracked up! I’ve seldom enjoyed dying quite so much!

So now you see why in a team meeting one night, Libby described my contribution as being “like the opening act”. Doug would later call it “John’s silly shtick”, but spoken with a smile. Someone else would express that I made people comfortable – relaxed them while they were waiting (for hours) outside the clinic.

Did I get hot and dirty – sure did. Did sweat run from my brow – big time. Did I get the grime and smells and germs of those wonderful people all over me – yup! Was I exhausted at the end of every day – actually no. I was so buzzed on adrenaline that I couldn’t sit still. A nice natural high

For me, it was just fooling around, making people happy … just being me. My encouragement for you would be to make sure you know yourself well, and then just go be yourself in whatever you do. Jesus came to set us free – and appreciating how he wired us is one of the most special freedoms of all …

Procrastination has been an issue, too. Not an excuse, but rather a habit that can quickly form when I have a lot going on in my life. But then I got an unlooked for reminder yesterday when a wonderful person from England included this sentence in an email to me:

” … after reading your ‘guatemala’ blog, I found it even more difficult to know what to say. I don’t think words could ever be adequate to convey the impact! …sometimes a warm hand of another can make a difference, even it it’s small. Yet it’s of worth, if one chooses to listen and accept“

This is the reason I can’t stop writing, because there is a hope I can make a difference by telling the story of the people of Guatemala, and my own story of how just eight days with these people changed my life forever.

Just this morning I met Kathryn Ford, a sweet-spirited customer service representative for a credit card company. When we were through with all the payment business, I felt very strongly that I should tell Kathryn about this blog. I don’t why. I’ve just learned to trust that intuition thing. But who knows – maybe it will change Kathryn’s life…

Click on “Read More” if you would like to hear that poem I promised you:

CHANGES

funny how change can feel good and bad at the same time

and often times a new adventure
that we know is taking us to higher places
also reveals our fear of the unknown

yet if everything were predicted,
and we could see the ending before we began,
where would be the adventure
and where would faith fit in

remember when we climbed atop
the rock walls of our childhood
and then would leap with awed abandon
fully feeling the rush of free flight,
yet never once doubting
a safe landing in our daddy’s waiting arms

it’s the same now – or should be anyway

who was it who tried to convince us
that we could jump and catch ourselves both

so walk your path today with awed abandon
knowing your father’s arms are there

don’t be fooled by fear when you can choose to soar

and though your flight is yours alone
you will never be really alone

always soaring near you will be friends
… like me

© John Hall 2008

Of the several key resources I could list, education is at the top. Whether it’s how to keep farm fields from eroding, how to fix a mother board, or how to purify drinking water, a person has to have a way to learn. That’s true anywhere in the world for that matter.

Being able to speak English is one of the most valuable pieces of education a Guatemalan can have. Why would this be true in a Spanish speaking country? The same reason it’s true practically anywhere in the world nowadays. English has become the universal language. The vast majority of information is most readily available in English. In tourism, industry, commerce, English is the common denominator. So any Guatemalan who is bilingual is much more employable there.

It’s a simple enough formula:
English = opportunity = employment = breaking of poverty cycle

The church our team worked closely with in Guazacapan in southern Guatemala has a vision for helping their city. Part of this vision is to offer classes to help citizens learn English. It’s a worthy endeavor.

I am praying about how to support their vision. Financially is a nobrainer. But I’m also considering going back to Guatemala to help set up this “school”, and to help teach.

Sounds like a big adventure to me. And as you know, my philosophy of life is that the older a person gets, the bigger their adventures should be!

Here’s a challenge for you: stop right now for a minute, and dream about how you could help these people realize their vision.

Remember the formula …