Harry Potter and Tebowing at the Climax

Brendan Scott

I love going to the movies.  I was that kid who stood in line to see all of the “Star Wars” movies when they were re-released back in the 90’s and when “The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of The Ring” came out ten years ago, I was the first person in line, not just for tickets, but to enter the theater.  And when theaters started releasing movies at midnight, I’m there at 10 pm.  Don’t even get me started on how early I had to get to the theater for “The Return of The King;” it was crazy.

I think the reason I love going to the movies is because I love good stories.  The atmosphere in a crowded theater on opening night is exhilarating.  When “The Sixth Sense” came the theater was packed.  With every twist and turn each of my friends began tucked their legs up on their seats.  We shared in the fear.  We pulled for Bruce Willis’s character to reconnect with his wife and for Haley Joel Osment’s character to receive the help he needed.  As the movie built toward its climax the hairs on my legs stood up and all I wanted to do was hug my knees like everyone else, but fear froze me.  The crowd made the climax of the movie completely captivating, but the well told story made the change the characters experienced even more meaningful and worth the level of fear I had to experience.

Good stories are filled with meaning.  Movie writer and teacher Robert McKee says, “If I could send a telegram to the film producers of the world, it would be these three words: ‘Meaning Produces Emotion’ Not money; not sex; not special effects; not movie stars; not lush photography.”  Meaning is what a good story is all about and the climax of a good movie will be filled with meaning.  McKee states that “The Climax of the last act is your great imaginative leap.  Without it, you have no story.  Until you have it, your characters wait like suffering patients praying for a cure.”

When I’m in a packed theater, I’m suffering along with the main character for that positive or negative turn to occur in the movie.  I want Frodo to make it to Mount Doom and drop the ring into the fires of Mordor.  I want Harry Potter to live or die, maybe both, and so I wait for that turning moment, that meaningful climax.  As an audience, we share the ups and downs of the characters story.  Without the ups and downs that lead to the climax, the climax would be meaningless.

There are people out there that flip to the end of a book before they start just so they can see if it is a good ending or not.  They pick up “Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows” and flip to Harry’s battle with Voldamort.  They want to get the stories payoff without reading the entire book or, even worse, the other six books in the series.  By skipping to the end of the book they miss the reason why Harry had to do what he does.   But just like sharing a story with someone adds to the story’s meaning, the work it takes for character, as well as the reader, to make it to the climax is what makes it meaningful.

The people who want to skip to the climax of a book are the same people who sat down and watched the last episode of Lost with out watching the previous five seasons.  They didn’t want to see the story develop, to see the characters grow and change.  They wanted all of the payoff without watching for six seasons.  These are the same people who on December 5th want to fast forward to Christmas Day.  They want the meaning without any of the work.

More on Christmas in a moment.  Let’s not rush to the climax because right now we’re at the rising action of our story.  Sunday December 4th The Neighborhood Church celebrated the second Sunday of the Advent season by sharing a sit down meal during the worship service.  People met together, ate, and shared stories about Christmas’ past.  It was very meaningful.  The only problem was the service didn’t finish until 12 pm.  An hour into the Denver Broncos game against the Vikings.  Co-blogger and Co-pastor of the Neighborhood Church, Mike Klassen comforted the congregation by reminding us all that “Tebow Time” (A term here meaning going beast mode and winning against all odds) isn’t until the fourth quarter anyway.  So if we missed the first half it would be just fine.

I tevoed Tebow anyway.  As I pressed play on the DVR, I knew I wanted to share a meaningful story with my fellow Bronco fans who’d gathered around the TV with me.  We knew we could just fast forward to the end.  But we wanted to experience the entire story.  If we had just skipped to the end, the win wouldn’t have been as meaningful.  The time we shared together watching the Broncos game was splattered with theological discussions.  Why is Tebow so loud about his faith?  Incomplete pass!  What if Tebow messes up (On the field and in his faith)?  Fumble, no way the ground can’t cause a fumble! What is perseverance of the Saints (No, I’m not talking about football here)? I can’t believe it, the Broncos Win!

And as Tebow rallied the Broncos from an 8 point deficit late in the fourth quarter we were discussing how God’s Grace works in our lives.  Life is like a good movie with many turns.  In “The Return of the King,” Frodo loses hope.  He turns away from his mission and decides he will keep the ring, but Grace steps in (In the form of Sam) and saves him.  Grace does what Frodo cannot do, destroy the ring and bring him back to the Shire.  Grace creates the meaningful change in Frodo’s life.  If Tebow fails on the field or in life, Grace will be there for him too.  Grace is there for all of us, offering a chance to make a meaningful change in our lives.  A chance to Tebow (Go beast mode/let God takeover), which brings us back to Christmas.

Christmas is not about what you get or even about what you give.  It is about experiencing the season with the people you love.  It is about sharing special moments with those around you.  Most of all it’s about God sending the Incarnation of Grace down to the world as the baby Christ.  If we fast forwarded to Christmas Day it would be like reading the last page of a book, only watching the Broncos during the fourth quarter, and fast forwarding all our favorite movies to the climax: empty and meaningless.  So slow down and know that no matter how long it seems until Christmas, that God is working in your life.  Christmas is more than just the climax of Christmas day.  It is about the Grace we have been given and the work it does in our life.  Let Grace make a meaningful change in your life this season.

I am an avid Bronco fan and movie enthusiast who believes in Tebowing every night because the best way to live a meaningful story is to stay connected to the author.

Jesus is the Anti-Zombie and the Zombie Commandments

Brendan Scott

On Easter Sunday we celebrate the most famous case of the dead coming back to life.  You heard me right, celebrate.  I know many of you about to run away from your computer screens to grab your shotguns or katanas, but wait.  Hold up.

Have you ever had the fear that the living dead will come breaking through your door?  I’m talking about rotten decaying humans that hunger for your brains.

Many ancient societies held to the fear that the dead would come back to life and run rampant across the land.  Why else do we still bolt our coffins shut from the inside or why did the ancient Irish place a stone in the mouths of the dead.  Both are precautions against the dead returning to life; one locks the dead in a coffin and the other fills the mouth so that the dead is prevented from eating.

There are many other examples that prove that our world lives in fear of the death and  the dead.  Like the rules of cleanliness in ancient Israel, if a person touched a dead body there were considered unclean.  Maybe they were trying to prevent the spread of diseases or maybe they thought if someone interacted with the dead they would become a Zombie.

The technical definition of a Zombie is any dead body given the semblance of life, but mute and will-less by a supernatural force, usually for some evil purpose like eating brains.  In Harry Potter they are called Inferi and are used by dark wizards to attack the living. Even magical people fear the living dead.  Any Zombie has no will of his or her own, save to consume brains and make more Zombies.

Real Zombies, whether you believe in them or not, exist to suck life and meaning from their prey.  Zombies live, well not really live, with an unquenchable desire to feed.  Much like the American consumer, Zombies are always wanting more and what they leave in their path is death and destruction.

A Zombie’s main desire (If a Zombie has the free will to have his or her own desire) is to turn normal people into Zombies and once you have been turned into a Zombie you are condemned to a living death.  Imagine working in Dilbert’s cubicle for the rest of your life, bent on just amassing more; a “life” doomed to utter meaningless.  Just imagine living your life and your only desire is to eat brains;  human brains at that.

And now to the upcoming celebration of the most famous case of resurrection.  That’s right, I’m talking about Easter Sunday!

That’s right, Jesus Christ came back from the dead and in two weeks we’ll celebrate his resurrection.

Fortunately Jesus Christ is the Anti-Zombie!  Jesus, who called himself, “The Good Shepherd,” who was willing to die for his, “sheep,”  knew he had to die so that we would be protected from a meaningless life.  In the Gospel of John Jesus says, “I have come that [you] may have life and have it to the full.”  Jesus did not come so that we would live our lives in mediocrity.  No he came to break us away from meaninglessness.  His life gave us a purpose, which I believe is to love and serve one another with a confidence that we are protected from the sting of death.

Jesus died so that “whoever believes in him shall not parish, but have eternal life.”  Anyone can die, but Jesus came back to life.  However, unlike Zombies who are the reanimated dead bent on destruction.  Jesus’ resurrection is, in essence, an act against a meaningless life.

As J.K. Rowling says in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hollows, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”  Rowling cleverly pulls this quote from 1st Corinthians chapter 15 verse 26.  She is making the point that death, and in my opinion, meaninglessness are enemies to be destroyed.  And fortunately for all of us Jesus has conquered these enemies.

Paul, the author of 1st Corinthians, believed that Christ’s resurrection was a resurrection to a spiritual life and that death has no sting or power.  That whoever allows Christ to work in their life will be changed in life and through death.  Their body might die, but their soul will live on in Heaven.

So Jesus’s death and resurrection give a meaning to life.  Where Zombies are reanimated to consume, Jesus died and came back to give us the freedom to live.  That is part of the practice of the Communion at church.  Believers take in Jesus’s body and blood and are given a full life; one that is satisfied by Jesus and not material goods.  We, normal humans, who don’t go around eating brains, no longer need to be afraid of Zombies, of meaninglessness, or death, because Jesus died and came back to life for us, so that we could live our lives to the full.

And now the Zombie Commandments: Some of Jesus’ commandments with a Zombie flavoring.

1. The most important commandment is this, “Love the lord your God with all your heart  and with all your soul and all your brain,” mmmmm brains I can’t get enough brains . . . I mean, “mind and with all your strength.

2. Love your neighbor as yourself because his brain tastes as good as yours.

3. You are the salt of the earth, so add extra humans on any brains you might eat.

4. You have heard it said, “Do not commit adultery.”  But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully and does not eat  her brain has already lost out on a chance for a good meal.

5. You have heard it said, “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” but I tell you do not resist anyone that wants to eat your brain.

6. And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your brain as well.

7. Give to anyone your brain if they ask for it, and do not turn away anyone who utters the phrase, “Must Eat Brain!”

8. You have heard it said, “Love your neighbor and hate your enemy,” but I tell you to love your enemy and pray for those who try to eat your brains.

9. Thou Shalt covet they neighbors brain.

10. Be a perfect brain eater as your Zombie father is a perfect brain eater.

Happy Resurection!!

Celebrate Holy Week by living like the anti-zombie, Jesus, and living in the freedom from a meaningless life.

How Does A Bronco Fan Mourn Al Davis

Brendan Scott

Saturday, as the news broke about the death of Al Davis, the owner of the Oakland Raiders, I was unsure of how to react.  One side of me wanted to smile, this was the side that hates the Raiders and wants to see misery in my opponent’s eyes, and the other side was sad.  Sad because Al Davis had run his team into the ground and well, I wanted the Raiders to remain terrible.  Now, the pessimist in me believes his departure from the Raiders might make the team I hate a more competitive franchise.  The Raiders have been an inept franchise for a decade, but they haven’t always been that way.

For a long time the Raiders were winners, committed to excellence.

Al Davis cared for nothing more than winning.  And I, like all Bronco fans, cared nothing for him and am pained by the above video, but I guess he did win some games.  According to Hall of Fame coach Don Shula, Davis was devious, but would have taken it as a complement to be described as such.  It is fair to say that hate him or love him (he does have a family) he was a driven man who helped shape the game of football.

He made the phrase, “Just win, Baby,” famous.  But growing up as a Denver Bronco fan, I just wanted him to lose.  For the last decade, if not a little more, that’s all the Raiders have been doing.  And as bad as the Broncos have been for the last five years, it has been comforting to know that the Raiders have been worse, except when they beat my team.

Al Davis may have lived his life by his “Just win, Baby,” motto, even while his team was losing, but is life about winning?  Football is just a game.  Don’t get me wrong, I love sports.  I’m very competitive and I believe if it is your job to play a game, you should do your best, but maybe there’s more to life than winning or losing.

I wonder if Davis defined his life by the wins and loses his team acquired on the field.  I did not know him so I can’t guess if he lived for more than wins on the field.  As a Bronco fan, competitively I hope he didn’t.  That way he lived his last ten years in misery.  But that’s just the Broncos fan in me, maybe I need to let God work on that area of my life.

But as a Christian, I hope he did live for something more than just wins.  While, I admire his desire to win because I believe God wants us to give everything we do our all, I don’t believe life is just about winning.

What is life about then?

What if life was about losing?  About giving instead of taking.

Matthew 5 reads like a list of objectives for weirdos.  It is counter culture to the max.  I mean, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” come on, who lives like that.  Or how about, “Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called sons of God.”  That doesn’t sound very competitive.  You’re just going to get run over if you live like that.  Or what about, “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  It’s like Jesus is telling people to be losers.  Or is he just saying, be different and you’ll be noticed for what really matters.

Jesus wants people to stand out, which is why he says, “You are the salt of the earth . . . You are the light of the world.  A city on a hill cannot be hidden.”  So if you are living like Jesus you are going to be noticed.  You are going to be different and like salt you are going to add a flavor to whatever you shake it into.  Did you know salt enhances the natural flavor of any food it’s added too?  Maybe that’s what life’s about, enhancing the lives of the people we come into contact with.

What about “Just win, Baby”?  That mentality seems to breed the eye for an eye mentality.  If someone punches you, punch back, ’cause you just got to win.  But Jesus says something different.  He says, “If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.  And if someone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your jacket also.  If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you . . . Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

Fans, Jesus wants us to lose.  To give more than what is asked from us.  To love the Raiders?  To pray for Al Davis and the Raider nation as they grieve their owner’s death.

Jesus commands us, and this isn’t just a command he is giving to Christians, this is for everyone out there, even Raiders and their fans, to love.  Jesus says in Matthew 12 vrs 29-31, “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no greater commandment than these.”

Ok Bronco fans, this is what our head coach is saying, “Love God and give him your all.  Next love your opponents, even the Raiders, just as much as you love your Broncos.”

What is love though?

Love is patient, love is kind, love does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preservers.  Love never fails.

Jesus wants me, a Bronco fan, to let go of all the hate I have for the Raiders.  So what if Al Davis never payed my beloved former coach, Mike Shanahan.  Life isn’t about money and I am sure Mike Shanahan has enough money and during his time with the Broncos he sure got the wins against the Raiders, as well as two Super Bowl wins for my team.  I think if I am to mourn Al Davis, I have to be different.

So how does a Bronco fan mourn Al Davis?  First, I stop trying to win at all costs (This is going to be difficult for me, ’cause I’ve been known to wish injuries on my least favorite players).  And Secondly, I need to look at the bigger picture of life.  Football isn’t just a fun diversion, remember how it helped restore hope to our nation after September 11th?  Sports are important, but loving our neighbors is more important.

What would Tebow Do?  Tim Tebow, the much debated quarterback for the Broncos, is a Christian who has made a name for himself by standing up for what he believes in.  I believe he would go out and play the game with the talent God gave him, but also respect his opponents with a Christlike love.  But that’s just a guess.  I know Tebow’s not Jesus.

Neither was Al Davis.  He was just a man (a neighbor), but a man created in God’s image.  He may have just wanted to win and maybe that’s what created such a good rivalry between the Broncos and the Raiders, but life is bigger than the victories on the field.  I can mourn Al Davis because he was one of God’s creation.  I can mourn him because as a Christian I am called to be different, to see past the gridiron, and to love even him, my enemy.

Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own

Brendan Scott

If time heals all wounds, do you think all the wounds have been healed?  This, the morning after, a decade later.

Many of the students I taught at the Inter-American School in Xela have never known a world with the Twin Towers.  One student, Sebastian, a squirrely little boy who would rather make his classmates laugh than kick in the winning run in kickball, was born in Canada on the day of the 9-11 attacks.  His life will always be strangely connected to the attacks.  He came into the world as so many were taken away.

Last year, as he celebrated his birthday at IAS, I asked his mom what it was like for her on that day.  She told me the doctors didn’t let her know what was going on and that for her the day had been a true blessing.  Sebastian, is a true blessing.  His laugh and the myriad of nicknames he dumped on me always made teaching him PE enjoyable.  Life has gone on.  But I know many of us cannot forget what happened.

10 years later and many of us are still wondering how we move forward from here.

September 11th, 2001 started like any Tuesday for me.  I was a month in to my new school at Battle Mountain High School, my new life in Vail, Colorado.  I was lonely but I didn’t want to make friends, because I figured I would just move off in a year for college.  I had built up a hard shell of isolationism.  The move from Tulsa to Vail hurt me deeply.  The loss I felt when I left the friends I had known almost my whole life redefined who I was.  I was no longer the leader at my church.  I felt like a nobody.  I felt weak.  The move took away my confidence and sadly I didn’t want to find it again.  I felt I was just okay floating along until college.

As the day unfolded on the televisions, which were tuned in to the news in all of my classes, our identity as a nation changed.  We were once independent and indestructible. As the towers crumbled, I knew we’d never be the same.  I knew I needed people, sadly a knowledge I didn’t act on right away.  And as the months passed I believe the entire nation realized it needed one another as well.  The hard shell of our nation was cracked, if only just a little, that day.  As we mourned the loss of so many people, we came together.  We were hurt.  And we changed.

September 12th, 2001 was the day we all picked ourselves up and began to move forward.  We started to change, but what change has really occurred?

Maybe you were one of the first responders.  Maybe September 12, 2001 was your second day digging through the rubble of the collapsed buildings.  Maybe you were one of the first to enlist in our nations armed forces.  Maybe you were one of the first to be deployed overseas to Afghanistan.  Maybe you were one of the first to march into Bagdad and liberate an oppressed people.  Maybe you were one of the pastors who comforted those who lost loved ones.  Maybe you were, like me, just a student who stared at the television and watched the world change.  I watched and watched and watched.  I was drawn in by the stories of loss, horror, and hope.  By nightfall on the 12th, 82 people had been confirmed dead and 11 people had been rescued.  I believe we’d realized that sometimes you can’t make it on your own.

U2’s lead singer, Bono, wrote the song Sometimes You can’t Make It On Your Own while dealing with the loss of his father, but as it seems to happen the words speak to a deeper truth.

Tough, you think you’ve got the stuff
You’re telling me and anyone
You’re hard enough

You don’t have to put up a fight
You don’t have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don’t have to go in alone

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

We fight all the time
You and I… that’s alright
We’re the same soul
I don’t need… I don’t need to hear you say
That if we weren’t so alike
You’d like me a whole lot more

Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don’t have to go it alone

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you when I don’t pick up the phone
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

I know that we don’t talk
I’m sick of it all
Can, you, hear, me, when, I, sing
You’re the reason I sing
You’re the reason why the opera is in me

Hey now, still gotta let ya know
A house doesn’t make a home
Don’t leave me here alone

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own
Sometimes you can’t make it
Best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

If time really does heal all wounds, I think 10 years later we would all be fine.  But people still hurt.  People still see today, ten years after the first day after, as if September 11th, 2001 was yesterday.  10 years later I hope we all know that we are not alone.  And together, unified, is the only way to move forward.

But is being united truly enough?

Over the last ten years I moved forward.  I broke out of my shell, graduated from both high school and college, and then moved to Guatemala.  For me Guatemala has been and will be the most definitive time in my life.  As I lived outside of my home country, away from every comfort I’d grown up with, I realized how much I needed God in my life.  And I found out that God has something for me.

I believe God has something for the United States as well.  On September 12th, 2001 he began the healing.  While we were all in mourning, while we were all being led away from whatever was normal just 48 hours before, God was busy working.  Over the past ten years, while we came together as a nation, we have all been in a form of exile.  Being an American has been something different, our indestructible identity is gone.  We are still proud, as we should be, but the pain of being attacked still lingers, maybe in a way no one thought it would.  I believe the biggest change we have undergone as Americans is not knowing how to be who we are, Americans.

Do we love?  Do we realize we need each other?  Or do we stand apart?  Do we mourn alone-wrapped up in our own fear?  Do we stay in exile, confused about who we are and what God has for us?  Or do we come back to our foundations?  It is a new decade.  It is time for us to realize that God has a plan for us all.  As he said to the exiled Israelites through the profit Jeremiah, “This is what the Lord says: ‘Whenever seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place.  For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with your whole heart.”

Are we going to be a nation that finally turns its eyes to God?

We have fought to defend ourselves.  We have strengthened our defenses.  Can we lay our weapons down when it matters?  Can we love when love is what is needed most?  On September 11th we were all hurt badly.  It has been ten years and one day.  Let this be the first day we love first instead of hardening our hearts toward everything that might hurt us.  How long must we sing this song of hurt and pain?  Not another ten years.  Not another day.

We must wait on God and seek him out with our whole hearts the way King David did when he wrote Psalm 40because he will bless us with something new.

I waited patently for the Lord;

He inclined and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit,

out of the mud and mire;

He set my feet on a rock

and gave me a firm place to stand,

He put a new song in my mouth,

A hymn of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear

and put their trust in the Lord.

Zombie Tag and the Top 10 Things I’ll Miss About Guatemala

Brendan Scott

What will I miss about Guatemala?  Not much-A whole lot.  How ready am I to live in the states again?  Very-Not at all.  You may have guessed it, I’m a mixed bag of emotions about my departure from Guatemala.  I will miss the slower lifestyle.  I love how in Xela I can walk from my gym at one end of town to my house at the other end in twenty minutes.  I hate how on a rainy day the streets fill like rivers and cars swerve to splash through the puddles just so they can make sure I absolutely do not make it home dry.  Even though the cars splash me, I still enjoy Guatemala and it has become my home.

Here is my top 10 things I will miss about Guatemala:

  1.  My students constantly trying to make me repeat after them in Spanish. “Mister, burros dice que . . . ?”  If you repeat something quickly enough I guess I’ll say what.
  2. The ayudantes (the driver’s assistants who take all of the payments on the chicken-bus or microbus) constantly trying to help me on and off the minibus, as if after three years I still didn’t know my way around Xela.
  3. The risk of buying cheap movies on the street that the vendor promises are in English.  Will it be in English?  I hope it wasn’t filmed in the theater.  What?  It’s in Russian?  At least they’ll exchange the movie for another one if it doesn’t work.*
  4. The constant attention from the shoe shine boys in parque central.  No, I don’t want my shoes shined, can’t you see I am a gringo and I wear sandals all of the time?
  5. Taking my pre-kinder students out to the basketball court to play with the hula hoops and the boys fighting over the more manly colored hoops.  “Yo quiero azul!!”  Or how one very little boy always wanted the small “ula ula” because, as he said, “Yo soy muy chicito!” It’s hard to take these boys seriously when they’re trying to claim to be manly and really little all at the same time.
  6. The lack of safety rules in Guatemala.  “Oh you want to go and roast a marsh-mellow on that lava flow?  Absolutely, and I’ll take your picture!”
  7. Playing Wii ping-pong with my friends and co-workers until late in the night.  (Only on nights we had power.)
  8. Playing Zombie tag with my Kindergarten class out on the basketball court at the Inter-American School.  They love trying to eat each other’s brains.  And their pronunciation of “Must Eat Brain” always made me smile.  Just say, “mustefrain” and chase your friends around like a zombie and you can play Zombie tag too.
  9. Listening to it rain.  The cars may swerve to hit the puddles so they can splash me and other walkers, but the sound of rain drops hitting the rooftops is mesmerizing.
  10. My students.  Hiking with them up La Muela.  Challenging them to become better writers, students, and people.  Having them challenge me to be the best I can be.  They made my time in Guatemala truly an adventure.

Not mentioned in this list.  The many dance parties.  And how my students love my crazy dance moves.  All I want is for them to learn to let go a little and have fun no matter what.

A few things I will not miss.

  1. Being over charged on a microbus, not to mention over stuffed, (I’ve been packed in one of those 15 passenger vans along with 35 other people).  Yes, I am a white North-American, but that doesn’t mean I have to pay more than everyone else.  It’s 1.25 Q for a microbus ride anywhere in town, just incase you’re interested.  I learned to always pay with exact change.
  2. Trash, trash, trash everywhere.  The mentalities of “oh we have someone to clean that up for us,” or “this plastic is biodegradable, right?” are really hurting Guatemala’s natural beauty.  I might start a relief cause “Dumpsters for Guatemala.”
  3. The slow and often inconsistent internet.  Man, I would love to check out that video of Justin Bieber, but unfortunately my internet isn’t fast enough.  I guess I’ll just have to miss it. (read with a hint of sarcasm.)
  4. Never knowing when the lights will come back on.  It’s been out all night for the past two days.  I’m glad I hadn’t really wanted to Skype with my family back home.
  5. How difficult it is to fly out of Guatemala.  Weather is always a problem here.  I’ve been delayed because of snow storms (yes, these storms were in the US), volcano eruptions, tropical storms (Agatha!!!!), and random thunderstorms.  Not to mention the fact that when you live in Xela you always have to drive to  Guate the day before your flight, which makes everything a little more drawn out.
It would have been very easy to come up with more than five things that I wont miss, but it also would have been even easier to name more than 10 reasons why I will miss Guatemala.  I have come to love this country, even with all of it’s quirks.  I am going to miss the country and even more so the people dearly.  Thank you for the past three years.
 
 
*I know it’s illegal, but when living in another country it’s hard to see movies any other way.  Plus it helps out the local economy.  And if the dvd doesn’t work you can go back and exchange it for another one.  No questions asked.

Brendan verses La Muela

Brendan Scott

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La Muela sits outside of Xela (Quetzaltenango, Guatemala) like a giant molar waiting to grind out puny little hikers like raw meat.  During the dry season, a hike up to La Muela, which isn’t the summit of the actual mountain, but the main destination for day hikers and therefore I refer to it as the summit from here on out, is a quick but challenging trek that offers a beautiful view of the city.  During the rainy season, hiking La Muela is a completely different monster.  It is best to start the hike early in the morning, as the skies can almost be guaranteed to dump rain anywhere from 12 o’clock on.

On tuesday the 7th, my plan was to start climbing early so I could avoid the rain.  I had invited some of my students along and had asked them to be at my house at 9 am.  Maybe I should have asked them to be there earlier.  Only Hugo showed up at 9, but I wasn’t too worried, Guatemalans are typically late and I was following Michael Slocker’s (my brother-in-law) statuses on facebook, because Katie, my sister, was at the hospital about to give birth to Lincoln, their second child!!!

Finally by 10 o’clock everyone arrived and I was pulled away from my computer scene.  I only found out later that my nephew was born at 7 pounds 7 ounces.  He’s going to be a John Elway fan for sure!  As we headed out of the house I should have pushed my fellow hikers, Jose Pab (otherwise known as Little Pablito), Sani, Skyy, Marcos, Skippy, Hugo, Juan, and Dani (the only girl to brave the trek), to take a taxi up to the beginning of the trail, but the boys wanted to hike the entire trail, which includes a good section on the road out of Xela up to Almolonga (an outlying town).  Cars speed up and down this steep road, but the boys ran up it with a fearless attitude only boys seem to have.  Dani kept telling me that I was trying to kill her.  So we hailed a taxi as soon as we saw one, which wasn’t very soon.  He charged us an exorbitant amount, for the distance he took us, but it was worth it.  I could tell Dani didn’t want to walk up that road much further.  Most of the boys decided to hike the entire way, so we waited for them where the dirt trail leaves the cobbled road.

We pushed our way up past the random soccer field that sits at 9,000 some odd feet and then climbed up the rocks that would soon be slick with rain.  As we climbed higher, the clouds dropped lower.  Shortly before noon we were enveloped in a cloud, it was dry, but I could tell the rain was on its way.  As the cloud draped itself around us, several of the kids mentioned how it made them feel like we were on the moon.  I felt more like I was on a volcanic adventure.  In fact the rocks that make up La Muela used to be part of a volcano, which exploded, littering the terrain with giant volcanic rocks.  We were in a different world than the one we’d hiked out of a couple hours before.  We’d left behind houses and busy streets.  We were now all alone.  Just us and nature.  The cloud made it feel like God wasn’t even there.

But we climbed higher and the cloud drifted away.  Like children freed from the watchful gaze of their parents we clambered up toward the summit of the molar.  The tip of La Muela is a sharp volcanic rock that juts toothlike up into the sky.  Often Mayan worshipers can be found offering sacrifices at this tooth like structure.  They climb from grass to boulders to the tooth to reach the top.  On the 7th we didn’t climb to the top to offer any sacrifices to the Mayan gods, yet I wasn’t sure with the thunder growing louder that we might be sacrificed anyway.

“Let’s get out of here,” shouted a couple of the kids as thunder cracked right above us.  “NO, I need a picture to prove we were here,” I replied as I scrambled to the sharp summit.  We snapped our pictures and began our descent.   To make it down from the summit rock climbing skills are required.  Some of the kids were a little nervous about this part of the hike.  I made sure I stayed right behind them and showed each where to place their hands and feet.  I love helping people challenge themselves so they can reach goals they never thought possible.

Climbing down off of the summit was hard, but all of them made it.  And I think because they challenged themselves they now know they can do more than they thought they could before.

As I stepped down from the rock we’d all just descended the rain started.  It started slowly but it was consistent, making the rocks as slick as a Guatemalan politician’s hairdo.  While we were off of the summit we weren’t down yet.  The rocks bellow the summit almost form a rigid crown around the molar creating a natural burier.
We decided to continue our descent through a small hole in one of the rocks in the burier.  Normally I go around the burier, but the kids wanted an adventure, so we ducked down between the small opening in the rocks.  I had forgotten that going through this crack was a bit trickier than the way we had ascended.  Skippy, Dani, and I made it through the crack, but the other boys backed out.  Skyy, Hugo, and Juan and flat-out disappeared and I had told the other boys, Marcos, Pab, and Sani, to descend the way we had hiked up, which would mean they would meet us on the other side of the crack, but as soon as I made it through the crack I realized they had not followed my instructions.  So as quickly as possible I leapt back up the wet rocks to find where the boys were.   As I reached the place I had last seen them I realized that Marcos’s group had followed Skyy, Hugo, and Juan.  I spotted them bellow going in the opposite direction from which I had told them.  I shouted down to them through the rain to come back up and follow me, but they refused.  Wet and needing to go help Dani and Skippy I told them to meet us at the soccer field.

Hikes always go awry as soon as people split up.  I knew things could spin out of control if I wasn’t careful.  Fortunately Dani, Skippy, and I made it to the soccer field safely.  Sani, Pab, and Marcos sauntered out of the woods opposite of us about 10 minutes later.  Relief.  We called Skyy to find out where they were on the mountain.  “Oh, we’re already almost home,” replied Skyy calmly.  We stood perplexed.  How did they make it down so quickly.  We made our way down to the road in the rain and waited for Susan, Skyy’s mom, to pick us up so we wouldn’t have to walk for another hour in the rain.

As I stood under the cover of a little tienda, near the trail-head, waiting out the rain, I started thinking about how much I am going to miss these adventures.  My hikes up La Muela have made the mountain familiar, yet each time it surprises me with a new fun challenge, like hiking it in the rain with a group of crazy kids.  Although, I think the kids challenged me more than the rain.  That’s why I am going to miss the relationships I have forged over the last three years more than the hikes.  As I have spent time with them, inside and outside the classroom, they have challenged me to become a better teacher and friend.  Hopefully these friendships will last as long as the mountain we climbed.  The rocks may move during each earthquake, and it’s rather scary when they do (I know from experience, but that’s another story), but I know these friendships will last the next shake up in my life.

How To Surprise Your Sister

Brendan Scott

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My little sister just graduated from Chatfield Senior High School in Littleton, Colorado and I was there to celebrate it with her!  Over the last three years, as I have lived in Guatemala, I have missed my fair share of family events, but not this one.

The other week I hopped on a bus to Guatemala City and caught a flight back to the States, all without my little sister knowing.  Here is what she wrote on my Facebook wall two days before the big surprise, “Brother.  It’s time for you to come home.  I miss you.”  To which my response was, “I miss you too.  We have a month until I return.  Think you can wait?” I hope God will forgive me for lying to my little sister.

If you ever want to surprise someone lying is a must.  In the weeks leading up to my flight home, I had to lie to Emmy countless times.  We’d be Skyping, me sitting in my room with my suitcase ready to be packed, and she’d complain about the fact “no one was coming to her graduation,” which wasn’t true.  My cousin Luke and his fiancé were flying out for the graduation and to take her to see U2.

Little did she know that all of this was my idea.  In order to surprise my sister I had to lie and threaten to kill people if they told.  That’s how much she means to me.  The plan was hatched in my mind late last year.  Plane tickets were high and I knew I couldn’t go home for both Christmas and Emmy’s graduation, so I decided I would …. fly home for Emmy’s graduation.

Purchasing my tickets was a debacle I will write about in another blog, but Emmy was worth it.  As I landed two hours late due to a major thunder storm in Denver, I was nervous Emmy would find out.  I didn’t call my dad for fear she would be with him.  Fortunately my parents were able to trick her into going over to a friend’s house and so we made it to Stueban’s, her favorite restaurant, and waited patiently for the surprise.

Surprises can make life difficult, and this one had me about as nervous as a litter of kittens in a pet store.  I wanted it all to work out.  All of the planning and all of the time would have been for not if one person would have slipped up.  And we all had our slip ups along the way.  While Skyping with Emmy the Sunday before I was to fly out, she was telling me the menu for her party and I said, “Oh we’ll be eating good.”  Fortunately she was oblivious of my slip up, because as she walked into the restaurant her face filled with confusion.  “Am I seeing things,” she thought.  A huge scream broke the confused silence, which was followed by an even bigger hug right in front of everyone one at the restaurant.  Kapla!  (Kligon for success)

Getting to see her graduate was icing on the cake after that hug.  Or was it the silver lining in the clouds.  It rained all during the graduation ceremony.  But a little rain couldn’t dampen my spirits.  I am so proud of her.  She has grown up so much over the past three years.  When I left she was just a little kid.  I’ve missed seeing her grow up, but if I hadn’t gone I wouldn’t have been able to surprise the socks off of her.  Literally they flew off when she screamed!  Ok, just figuratively.

Mother’s Day Twice a Year

Brendan Scott

Tuesday morning five a.m. and an explosion rips me from my sleep.  Who’s birthday is it? (It is common for birthdays to be celebrated here with a barrage of fireworks at the crack of dawn.) I think as I roll over and try to drift back to sleep.  It wasn’t someone’s birthday, it was Mother’s Day.  But wasn’t Mother’s Day on Sunday?

Here in Guatemala, Dia De Las Madres is always celebrated on the 10th of May, and what better way to celebrate your mom than to set off a battery of fire works.  At least I wasn’t woken by a live marimba band at 5 in the morning like I was two years ago on Mother’s Day; horrible.  All morning, as I taught PE outside on the basketball court, the sound of mothers being celebrated drowned out the screams of excitement from my elementary students.

If you are ever in need of fireworks, you don’t need to drive to the county line because Guatemala has an abundant supply of what you want; even after the firework factory exploded during lunch last week, I had been sitting in the library when I heard a distant rumble.  At first I thought it was thunder, but it was a blue sky day.  Maybe Xela was under attack!  Nope!  The fireworks factory had caught fire due to the heat and exploded.  Sadly, the explosion didn’t limit the amount of fireworks sold to the many sons and daughters in Xela.  My Tuesday morning was one explosion after another.  And fortunately, unlike on Sunday, none of those explosions happened inside of my body.

Guatemalans really know how to celebrate their moms.  But just because in the states people don’t set off fireworks doesn’t mean us, US Americans, don’t love our moms.  On Sunday, I spent most of my day Skyping with my family.  Holidays are hard days for me to be away from my family, I can’t physically walk up to my mom and give her a hug.  As I sat Skyping with  my mom, it almost felt like I was home.  But almost only works in horse shoes and fireworks.  Like I almost regained my hearing after the umpteenth million firework exploded on the Guatemalan’s May 10th Mother’s Day.

I’m glad that my family celebrates Mother’s Day in a more laid back fashion.  As nice as it was to Skype my mom I would rather have been able to be in Colorado and light off a few fireworks to celebrate her in Guatemalan fashion; at least I would have been there.

I love Guatemala, all of it’s quirks and explosions.  It is a unique little country and has really become a beloved second home, but it’s hard to be here during major holidays.  On Mother’s Day I felt the pull to be home so I could spend some quality time with my family for the first time in nearly ten months.  But on the flip side, with a little more than month left here in Guatemala I don’t want to leave.  I want to stay and soak up all of the little bits of Guatemala that I can.  It is hard living with these two desires.  I know I’m moving, but I’ve also decided to live in the present as much as possible, so I am trying my hardest not to think about my move.  I love how Guatemala celebrates their moms and yet I know moving back home will be a great thing; I’ll be able to celebrate my mom in person.  What’s better than that?

How To Be A Heartbreaker

Brendan Scott

My little sister is going to prom.  Last year she was nervous about having fun and so I made her a video.  This year I want to make sure her heart is protected as she is on the dance floor.  My own prom was filled with heartbreak and I didn’t want that to happen for Emmy.  So I woke up this morning and made a video, not just any video, a dance video.  Unfortunately, my internet at my house isn’t fast enough to load a video for sharing.  Fortunately, IAS was open today and so I walked up to work on a Saturday.  I passed many places I had never seen before in Xela, something that hardly ever happens to me after living here for three years.  It’s amazing how beautiful a city can be when you just open your eyes and look around a little.  But anyway, I digress.  I made it to school and then I loaded my video.  Here it is, I hope you all enjoy.

A Day in Guatemala

Brendan Scott

Guatemala, my second home, is a beautiful and diverse country.  It has everything from the beautiful Lago Atitlan, the ancient pyramids of Tikal, the magnificent cascading waterfalls of Semuc Champey, the colonial cobbled streets of Antigua shaded by active Pacaya, and a proud and busy second city in Xela crowned by Volcan Santa Maria in the distance.

When I first came to Guatemala, I expected it’s natural beauty, but I’ve been continually surprised by Guatemala’s economic and educational gaps.  About 69% of Guatemalans older than 15 are literate and according to the CIA world factbook 56% of Guatemalans live in poverty.  In Guatemala the wealthy and educated are very wealthy and, as a teacher I may say this, fairly well educated, but they are in stark contrast to the poor that make up the rest of the country.

On any day in Xela I walk by members of the lower class.  Typically dressed in tipicos (their traditional dress) chewing gum and smiling or laughing with a baby on her back and a basket of corn tortillas balanced perfectly on her head.  She works hard, but is economically just above the handicapped beggars.  Many beggars are missing legs, teeth, arms, or other essential body parts, and are forced to sit on street corners waiting for any change to fall toward them.  Both the girl and the beggar have been forced to scrape the dust of the wealthy for a living, which has not given them the time to be educated.  And without education a person can’t grow.  They are forced to do menial jobs.  One such job might be charging one quetzal (Guatemala’s currency 8 quetzals to 1 dollar) to use their bathroom on the side of the road.

Having lived in Guatemala for three years, I feel like I’ve seem most of her extremes; her natural beauty, her wealth, and her poverty, but often I don’t encounter them in one day.  But that is just what happened during the first weekend of Holy Week.  While on the bus to Guatemala City I saw poverty.  Well, I wasn’t on the bus.  I’d jumped off between Solola and the next town.  My bladder was screaming, so I was thankful when the bus stopped so the driver could grab a snack.  It was 8:30 am and the roadside was teaming with food vendors.  I could tell I had time to empty my body of the Dr. Pepper I’d drunk.  As I stepped off the bus, I saw a little boy in a plain t-shirt, no older than second grade, manning a table in front of what seemed to be a room for bathrooms.  Growing up in the states I still dislike paying for restrooms, but I am sure this kid and his family are doing all that they can for a living, so I payed him the Q and walked past the table.  What I found was not a bathroom, the floor was dirt and it didn’t have a  complete roof (tin topped the stalls so at least if it was raining I could relieve myself and not get wet), but an unfinished section of the building with three old blue wooden doors with three 10 gallon barrels filled with water in front.  Two of the doors were locked from the outside, I’m assuming the toilets behind those doors were broke beyond repair because a dirty toilet hasn’t stopped many Guatemalans from using them, and the third was occupied.

I glanced over my shoulder to see if the bus was still there.  I could see the top of the bus from the natural skylight the boy’s family had designed into their building (it’s fun to look for the positives in these situations).  As I waited in line I realized that the water in the barrels was for flushing (not all of Guatemala has running water).  Each barrel contained a small bucket so the user could tote the water into the toilet and flush down their deposit.  The first stall opened up and I wanted to bolt inside, but the man had to fill the toilet so he could flush.  Ages passed and the line wasn’t getting shorter so I decided to pick a spot in the corner and moistened the dirt bellow my feet.  After making water I turned to see the bus rolling away.  Thank goodness for that skylight.  I zipped up and ran.  I was not the only one running, a few of the other patrons were dashing toward the bus as well.  Fortunately the bus stopped and I climbed aboard and made it to Guatemala City.  In the city I saw extravagance.

After an American breakfast at IHOP, the pancakes tasted refreshingly good, I made it to Oakland Mall.  If my description of the roadside rest stop matched most of your pre-conceived notions of Guatemala, even my little sister asked me when I first moved down here if I was living in a hut, then let Oakland Mall completely destroy those notions.  It is grand; home to an aquarium, a large food court and a beautiful movie theater.  Seeing a movie was the whole reason why I went to Guatemala City.  The VIP movie theater is outfitted with fully reclining leather seats and waiters ready to take your order from a complete menu all for only 68 Q (under 10 dollars), making it the fanciest movie theater I’ve ever watched a movie in.  It felt like luxury meant for kings.

It’s funny how after three years in Guatemala a day like this has come to feel normal.  Most people would experience culture shock.  Maybe I can chalk it up to the dismissive phrase, “Only in Guatemala.”  Yes Guatemala is beautifully diverse, and yes some if it’s extremes need to change, but for now I’m going to enjoy where I live.