Tag: Xela

How to Teach And Not Be Bored To Death

Brendan Scott

School Can Be A Bore!

Everyone knows learning the difference between bor., boar, boor, and bore can be a complete bo . . . wait which one is it?  Wait can you explain the Hawley-Smoot Teriff Act?  Anyone, anyone?

Why do you think Ferris skipped school?

You know you’ve been in this class.  We’ve all struggled to stay awake as the professor drooned on and on, our eyes taped open in a futile attempt to remain conscious.  Sadly, once I started teaching I realized it’s not just the student’s who struggle through boring classes.

As a teacher, a teacher who was teaching said boring class, even I struggled at times to stay awake.

During my first year of teaching, quite a few of my classes were boring.  Can’t believe I just admitted that.  The worst was my current events class.  (I know a couple of students who would argue, not to say it was an exciting class, filled with the days most exciting news, but to say one of my other classes was worse.) I didn’t even enjoy listening to my students report on whatever big news story they’d found while scouring the web five minutes before class.

You know why it was boring?  It bored me and my students to tears because I didn’t put much effort into it.

I was a new teacher, I didn’t know any better.

Teaching Takes Trying

That next semester I decided to try something different.  If teaching something I found boring made for a boring class, then why not teach something I enjoyed.  (I know not everyone has this ability, Math teachers have to teach Math) I chose outdoor education.  I had grand plans for this class.  I wanted to take my students on hikes.  I wanted them to love hiking, like I love hiking.

But how can that be taught?

First I bought a book.  Had them sit in a classroom.  Gave them the information from the book.  And then I ran into the same problem I’d had before, boredom.

I was teaching the class wrong.  Not that there isn’t a time and place for books and the classroom, but I found out that if I was going to pass on a love for the outdoors I had to take the kids outside.

I showed them how to set up a tent.  We identified the clouds.  We even talked about going camping.  The class improved, but it still wasn’t that good.  We still weren’t hiking.  And camping was a no go.

Three years later the kids who were in that class still complain that we never did any of the things I promised them we’d do.  But what they don’t know is, inside the classroom I couldn’t show them my love for hiking.

A Good Teacher Tackle’s His Students

Teaching doesn’t always happen at school or inside the classroom. Most of the time teaching doesn’t even require books or tests.

Hands down my favorite class to teach was my middle school gym class because I loved the subject matter and most of the time I got to participate.  The boys loved it for many reasons, but they especially enjoyed our unit on American football (remember I was in Guatemala) they got to tackle me.  I loved it because they loved it, and I got to tackle them.  (This would never work in the states, but playing football with your students is a great way to get out your frustration.)

We built connections by playing a game together.  Anytime they tackled me I would congratulate them and they would ask my why I was crying. (I wasn’t)  Playing football with the boys allowed me to be personal with them.

They learned by watching my actions and following my lead.  Now, none of those boys will make it to the NFL, but all of them know more about football than any of their Guatemalan Neighbors.

They learned through experiencing.

Teaching isn’t about how boring or how exciting a class is.  No, it’s about growing and changing.

I finally put that to practice with hiking.  I knew that if the boys loved playing football when I played with them, they would love hiking if I took them.

A Good Teacher Takes A Hike

During my last year in Guatemala I took the majority of my students on hikes up La Muela, my favorite hike in Xela.

On our hikes up the dead volcano I would ask them what they wanted to do with their lives.  I would challenge them to try harder in their classes.  I spent most of the time on the hikes listening to what was going on in their lives.  I think they needed to know someone cared for them.  Kids need someone in their lives that let’s them know that they’re important.  Parents can do that, but at a point in every teenager’s life they stop listening to their parents.

I also shared bits of my life story, they listened and let me know they cared.  While hiking built healthy relationships.

I miss hiking with them more than almost anything in Xela.  I know that they love the hike too, because, since I moved back to the states, they’ve continued to hike.

And sure enough, when I was in Guatemala last March I took a group of kids up La Muela.  They wanted to go.  They took me to places on the dead volcano I’d never been.  As we stood at the summit, looking down on Xela, one of the boys, who’d grown up in Xela, right next to La Muela, looked at me and said, “I love hiking.  I can see why you love Xela too.”  Pleased, I felt like a success.

My teaching methods might not be conventional, but I believe the best way to pass on information, especially the type I am passionate about, is to form relationships and go hiking.

Why I Love Guatemala

Brendan Scott

Where is the land of enchantment?  No, it’s not New Mexico.  You have to south of the boarder.  Okay, a little farther south.  That’s right, Guatemala is the real land of enchantment.  Okay, maybe not all of Guatemala is that enchanting.  But no other country, outside of the good’ol U.S.A., has my heart like Guatemala.

Do you heart Antigua?

So why do I love Guatemala?  What follows is my top five reasons I love Guatemala and think it is a great travel destination and even more so an amazing place to live.

1. All of the gigantic volcanoes, whether they are erupting or just challenging me to hike or photograph, I love them.

El Fuego sits behind the volcano of Acatenango. I enjoyed watching it spout smoke from my safe rooftop in Antigua.
Even on a clear day in Xela a cloud loves to hang around the massive Santa Maria.

2. The Colonial Cathedrals.  I love old buildings and well, these ones have stood the test of time.

This Cathedral was almost completely destroyed by an earthquake.
Some lucky couple was getting married the night I took this picture.
Nun's who couldn't live in the real world would use the archway to pass over the street. Or so I was told.

3. The Amazing Coffee.  Err, I mean how everyone loves Guatemalan Coffee. (Everyone but me)

Before it's picked, dried, and roasted, it's sweet.
I know coffee lovers love these.
Coffee being processed forCafé Tranquilidad

4. The craftsmanship, be it food or a hand-knit blanket, Guatemalans can make some beautiful goods.  Cuidado!  Be careful where you eat, ’cause you want to take the beautiful hand-made scarf home with you, not amoebas.

Found these at the store. I'd never had them before. Jury is still out.
I love those colors!
The Market in Antigua.

5.  Most of all Guatemalan’s have passion, which makes me love them right back.  If you travel to Guatemala you will find that the rich and the poor, both have huge hearts.  Their genuine way of life makes them extremely beautiful.

The Chivos Fans Love Their team!
They Love Each Other.
Can't you tell she's got a big heart?
Will it stand?
Love's in her eyes.
They love being noobs!
Me and my spanish teacher.

I hope someday that everyone will be able to travel down to Guatemala and come up with their own list for why they love Guatemala.  It is an adventure, but be careful you just might be enchanted!

You Are God’s Masterpiece

Brendan Scott

Have you ever thought of God as an inventor?  Just think, he created Xela, this beautiful city.  But have you ever thought that you are an invention, created for a purpose?

If you’ve been following my blog, you know that I took a team down to Guatemala to lead The Inter-American School’s Spiritual Emphasis Week.  Our theme for the week was The Inventors Workshop, an idea I got from the movie Hugo.  I asked them to look at their lives as if they were invented with a purpose.

During the all school chapel on Tuesday morning I asked the students help me make the greatest invention ever.  We decided we needed some volunteers, so I called up the smartest kid in school, Skyy.  Then I called up the tallest, Oscar.  Followed by the strongest, How.  And then for good measure I picked a random boy out from the crowd, little Quike (pronounced key kay) from second grade.

Surprisingly enough, Oscar was too tall, How was too strong, and Skyy was too smart.  Quike was just perfect for my experiment.  If you don’t understand why I went with the smallest boy, maybe you should read a story from the Old Testament where David, a young Shepard at the time, is chosen by God to be the future king of Israel.  He isn’t big and strong like his brothers, but he has something God desires.

And so Quike let me use him to create the perfect invention.  First, we decided, he had to be wearing a hat, cause hats are cool, so I grabbed a hat from the audience and placed it on his head.  Then, what boy would be complete without sunglasses?  But I wanted him to be even cooler so I broke out my ski goggles and plopped them on his head.  My perfect invention was almost complete.  What kid is complete without an iPod and headphones?  I shoved my headphones on his little head and turned up the music.  He was complete.

Only one problem.  He couldn’t hear his inventor.  I tried several times to make him walk across the stage, but alas, the music was too loud.

So what did David have that God desired?  An open heart.  We cannot respond to our inventor if our hearts are closed.  Like Quike, who couldn’t hear me because of the music, we often drown out God with noise.  How often do we have our iPods on and miss out on what God has for us?

So, I challenged my students to open their hearts to what God had for them that week.  I asked them to unplug from anything that could distract them from God.  ‘Cause if their hearts were to remain closed, they would never know their purpose.

And what kind of leader would I be if I challenged them and didn’t give them an example of what an open heart looks like.

When I first started teaching at IAS, almost four years ago now, I was nervous.  If you go back and read some of my first blog posts you’ll see I was lonely, and not a good writer.  I was not alone.  Because I kept my heart open to all God had for me in Guatemala, he provided me with friends and amazing experiences.  Over the three years the students at IAS invited me into their lives and by doing so we created memories and built relationships.  If I’d had my heart closed off to them God wouldn’t have been refine me, his invention.

I believe God has created us as his masterpiece.  We are his most complex invention.  I challenged them to look at a series of photographs with an open heart.  You might not know anyone from the following slide show, but I want you, my readers to keep your hearts open as well.

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Here is what I see when I look at these pictures.  I see a kid I tutored, the same kid I convinced that the Rockies were the best team in Baseball.  I see a class that showed me how much fun teaching can be, they also showed me how frustrating it can be as well.  I see kids that love to play zombie tag.  I see friends who God has a special plan for.  When I look through this slide show I see God’s masterpieces.

If you were to add your own picture to that slide show, I hope you would see that you are God’s masterpiece, his greatest invention, and that he has a purpose for you.  You are not, as Hugo says, “spare parts.”

Join me and my dad, Eugene Scott, in living spiritually.  We are 88 days into the new year and I have already seen God do so much.  Join us on this adventure!

My Adventurous Week In Xela

Brendan Scott

One week in Xela isn’t enough, but March 3-10th was all the time I had to spend in my home away from home.  I’d traveled down to Xela, Guatemala to help lead the Inter-American’s Spiritual Emphasis Week, and as most mission trips go, it was jam-packed with fun life impacting experiences.  It was an adventure.

To start off my team of 4 1/2 nearly had to leave our half behind in Houston.

Taca requires babies, even those under two years old, to have a ticket.  Sure wish Orbitz had told about that one when, we were buying our tickets.  Fortunately, Mike Davis was able to talk the Taca (Take A Chance Airlines) agent into letting us buy a ticket for Bailey, and we all made it onto the plane.  And I can’t imagine the week without that little girl.  Heck, and what would’ve she done for a week all by herself in the Houston Airport?  She’s no Tom Hanks.

And so on Saturday March 3rd all 4 1/2 of us made it to Xela.  Here are the top 10 events from my mission trip in Xela.

1. Spending time with the McMarlins.  Saturday March 3rd my team and I were welcomed in to the McMarlin’s house for breakfast and lunch.  I worked with Laurel McMarlin for three years and his wife Donna had taken me in as if I was her own son, so it was truly great to see them again.  Laurel is the Chaplin at IAS and leads the English-speaking Anglican service at St. Mark’s in Xela on Sundays.

After church, which was cool in its own right because a lot of people came just to hear my dad preach (just think people coming to hear my dad) most of the teachers from IAS went over to the McMarlin’s for lunch.  It was great being able to catch up with old friends.  Thank you Laurel and Donna for opening up your house to me one more time.

2. Irene Ovelle’s Quince.  Last June when I went to what I thought would be my last Quinceaños, but to my surprise Irene invited me to her party, which just happened to be the first day I was back in Xela.  So after lunch with the McMarlin’s I got myself all dressed up, and headed out to her grandparent’s to see all of my former students.  I had been waiting nearly nine months to see all of them, so I was about as excited as my little niece was on Christmas Eve.

Probably the best part of the night, other than all the awesome hugs I received and the crazy dance moves I laid down and being able to disrupt all of the  dancing couples and generally just being able to act like a kid, was when Angelo (A vegetarian) tried to challenge me to a hotdog eating contest.  See last year I accepted his challenge only to find out he was only eating the buns.  I declined, but it really made me laugh.

3. Sunday after church I took Luispe, Dani, and Hugo up La Muela.  First off, this hike in itself is one of my favorite things to do, ever, but getting to hike it with a couple of my former students was even better.  I think more of my former student’s would’ve come had it not been for the party the night before. Mr. Smith, IAS’s science teacher, came with us and almost died on the way down.  Dani was hiking above him and accidentally knocked a rock lose.  The rock smashed right above Mr. Smith’s head.  Mr. Smith seems to attract death, it’s almost like he’s Charlie from Lost and the island is trying to kill him off.  Sure am glad he didn’t die, it would have put a damper on the beautiful day.

4. Playing games with the elementary kids.  During my two years as the elementary PE teacher at IAS I came up with all kids of tag games for the little kids.  On monday we got to play my favorite game of tag.  Zombie Tag.  It was so much fun hearing the little kids run around screaming, “Must Eat Brain.”  The next day we played my other favorite tag game, Model tag, which requires the kid who gets tagged to strike a pose.  Once the pose is struck the kid can only be released when someone takes their picture.  We didn’t get to play Santa tag, but that’s out of season anyway.

5. Coffee Plantation Tour.  On Tuesday afternoon I took my team down to Santa Maria de Jesus for a tour of the Brodbeck’s coffee plantation.  Dianne and Marty Brodbeck used to work at the school, but now that they are retired they supply IAS with what I’ve heard is the worlds best coffee (I don’t like Coffee). Mike, Stacey, Bailey, and my dad love coffee, so I think they really enjoyed learning how it is grown, picked, and processed.

Did you know that the coffee bean is sweet when it is picked?  Did you know if you picked 500 pounds of coffee bean after it is shelled, processed, and dried you’d end up with 60 pounds?  After our tour we were sitting around the Brodbeck’s yard enjoying boquitas when I looked at my watch, and realized we needed to get going or we would miss the last bus back up the mountain.  Like the coffee crazed fanatics that they are, my dad, Mike and Stacey, and Bailey rushed back to the Brodbeck’s storehouse and promptly bought them out of coffee.  With copious amounts of coffee in hand we jumped on the last bus to Xela and bounced our way back up the mountain.

6. Camila.  Everyone should have a little kid who fallows you around and tells you how much they love you.  Camila, a cute little first grader, used to tell me she loved me every chance she got.  When she first saw me on Monday I could tell she wasn’t sure what to do.  Her eyes were darting from me back to Stacey, who was giving the message, and then back to me.  During afternoon recess on Monday she followed me around and told me all about how she loved the first grade and how she thought she’d never see me again.

On Friday, when I got to school, after hanging out with all of the middle schoolers and high schoolers for three days, I noticed that Camila wasn’t there.  Yasi, my good friend and the school’s secretary, told me Camila’s mom had called in saying Camila was sick, but that her little girl was heartbroken because she wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Mr. Scott.  I love that kid.

7. Retreat.  On Wednesday I hopped onto a bus full of middle schoolers and headed down to Reu for three high energy days and two sleepless nights.  My dad and I challenged the students to look at their lives and see how God has worked in the good times and the bad times.  Day one, I was working with the current 10th grade class.  Each boy shared a short version of their life story, at first it was rather shallow, but as the week progressed, I could tell the boys were opening their hearts to what God had for them. At the end of the week a couple of the boys said they really wanted a stronger walk with God.

Retreat also had plenty of crazy moments.  The eleventh grade boys decided to take on the cinnamon challenge.  That is, they tried to swallow packets of cinnamon without the help of water.  I’d heard the myth that it can’t be done, well let me tell you, it can.

But also, don’t ever try to snort it.  All of the boys wanted me to try to eat the packet.  Not needing to prove my manhood to these boys, I refused.  But then they opened a packet up onto my hand and I knew I had to do something.  So, I dumped the cinnamon onto the table and said, “let’s get Hugo, he’ll snort this.”  So we all wiped a little cinnamon onto our noses and called Hugo into the room.  “We’ve all done it,” I said.  Without hesitation Hugo bent down and inhaled the entire packet.  I’m pretty sure he was sneezing cinnamon for the rest of retreat.  My props go out to Hugo, he’s a stud.

8. Pool fights and Revenge.  On Thursday Katja and Isa, two of the tenth grade girls, decided to get into a water fight with me.  Silly girls.  One of the best things about retreat is being able to form relationships with the kids from IAS.  Many of the kids came up to me and told me how their lives were going and asked me for advice.  It was so awesome to hear how they were growing.  That didn’t happen with Katja or Isa.  They just wanted a water fight.  They are noobs.

I was on the basketball court trying to make half court shots with a couple of the kids, when out of no where a water balloon bounces off of my back.  Then another one burst at my sandaled feet.  Katja and Isa were cautiously trying to have a water fight.  It was cute, they would throw a balloon and then try to look all innocent.  To this point I’d done nothing to deserve their wrath.  After they’d exhausted their ammo, which only got my shirt a little wet, I chased after them, only to be grabbed by Kain and Mario, two of their classmates, and dragged off to the pool.  I didn’t put up too much of a fight, as I was in my swimsuit, but I also didn’t want the boys to think I was weak.  So I broke free, tossed Kain on the ground, pushed Mario out-of-the-way, hoisted Isa onto my shoulders, and jumped into the pool.  Katja has been warned.  Revenge will be mine.

9. Singing Coldplay with Sharom.  On the bus ride back to Xela I decided to ride up with the High School bus.  I’d ridden down with the middle schoolers, who were really crazy, and so I felt God tell me to get onto the High School bus.  I am so glad I rode with the High Schoolers because half way up we passed the Middle School bus, which was broken down on the side of the road.

Not only was I on the bus that worked, but Sharom, my Guatemalan sister, shared one of her headphones with me and we rocked out to Coldplay the entire way up.  I sang to the entire bus, well at least those in the seats closest to me, the bus was too loud for everyone to hear, which was probably a good thing.  I will remember that bus ride for a long time.  Thank you Sharom, for such a fun memory.

10. Having Dinner with Yasi, her husband, and their daughter Eli.  I think the entire week was about connecting.  We tried to connect with the kids and the teachers, and yet one person I didn’t get to spend much time with was Yasi.  Yasi was more than my secretary she was also my running partner.

Because I was on retreat I didn’t get to spend much time with her and her family, so she invited my dad, Mike and Stacey, Bailey, and me over for dinner that Friday night.  I made Yasi’s week by surprising her with a copy of Mockingjay that I brought down with her.  The time I spent in conversation with her helped make a fabulous week that much better.  I hope that everyone gets to know Yasi at some point in their life.

Thank you to everyone who helped make my week in Xela an Adventure!

My Last Guatemalan Adventure!

Brendan Scott

Until last week it had been nearly nine months since I’d set foot in Guatemala.  June 18th my was last true night in Xela.  That rainy night, dressed in my first suit, I went to my last Quinceaños and something happened that would shape the course of the next 9 months.  As I look back it still feels like it was yesterday.

But it wasn’t yesterday, and a lot has happened in the between time.  Since that night in June I flew to Hawaii for my little sister’s graduation vacation, flew to Tulsa for a wedding and to meet my amazing nephew Lincoln, flew to Washington DC for my cousin’s wedding, and then finally landed in Denver.  Denver has been its own adventure, one I am still trying to figure out.

The story that follows is about my last Guatemalan adventure and why it took me nine months to write.

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Three weeks prior to the big Quinceaños, I bumped into Alexa, the quinceñera, at McDonald’s.  I was planning my own goodbye party with a couple of students when she came over and plopped a black and white card onto the table.  “My invitation?” I asked.  “Noob,” she replied.  I waited for her car to drive off before I ripped open my invitation.  The card was fancy, typical, but then I realized something different about the invitation.  On the little card signifying that I was invited it said I could bring one guest.  A date!

By handing me an invitation and telling me I could bring a date, Alexa had unwittingly filled my life with stress.  I felt like Cinderella on the night of the ball in search of a dress.  I needed a suit and a date.  So little time.  Okay! I’m exaggerating, I knew how to buy a suit.

The girl, well, that’s the adventure.

At first she had just been my gym crush.  We’d done plenty of mutual smiling and eye contact followed by the quick head turn.  But it wouldn’t ever work, I mean as far as I knew she only spoke Spanish and well, I was moving back to the states.  However, I didn’t want to move back to Colorado without trying to talk to a Guatemalan girl.

The Switchfoot song Gone became my motto.  The song says, live like there’s no tomorrow, because today will soon be gone.  The song even inspired me to write a blog about living purposefully, which was really just my own pep talk to try to say hi to this girl.  That was back in February of 2011.  Taking my own advice I started aprovecharseing (taking advantage of) my time left in Guatemala, which meant talking to her the next time I saw her.

Okay, so the time after that.

I wasn’t going to waste any time.  So, I enlisted Yasi, my running partner and go to girl for Spanish, to ask the girl what her name was.  My plan was to have Yasi befriend her and then introduce me to her.  Well, I finally met her and to my relief she spoke English.  I was so nervous the first time we spoke most people might have thought I wasn’t the native English speaker, and if we hadn’t been at the gym my excess sweat wouldn’t have seemed natural.

The next day, after I finished my 100 sit ups or was it 1,000, I strolled casually over to her, real smooth like.  I waved and made eye contact at the same time.  Big first step, but then she took off her headphones.  “What, she wants to talk,” I thought. I managed to say, hi.  But then she kept talking, something I hadn’t planned on.  Finally I manned up and asked her if she wanted to go out to coffee so I could practice spanish.

Two weeks later, when we finally went out, I didn’t speak any spanish.

My gym crush did not turn into a relationship.

I knew I was moving, and even though I created a great dance to the Taio Cruz song Heartbreaker, I didn’t want to play with her heart.  I try to live honestly, so that first time out to coffee I told her we could only be friends.  To my surprise she was so moved by my honesty she made sure we hung out every day for the next four months.  And the night before Alexa handed me my invitation my gym crush begged me to stay.  With tears rolling down my eyes I told her I couldn’t.  I had another adventure to live and no job in Xela to keep me.  Her heart was broken.  She decided it was too painful to see me and so we said our goodbyes.

Okay, one statement in that last paragraph is true.   You get to pick.

I was so busy trying to live each day to the fullest, that I kept on putting off the inevitable truth that I was moving, plus I didn’t know how to tell her.  In my defense every time I thought our friendship was going to grow into something more, like  when we’d go out for coffee, I’d vow to tell her the truth.  But then I wouldn’t see her for a couple of weeks and I just kind of figured it didn’t matter.  Why bother telling someone you’re moving when they just aren’t in your life consistently?

One of my friends nicknamed her Carmen Sandiego, because I was always wondering where in the world she was.  By the end of May  things were a little more consistent between me and Carmen Sandiego (not her real name).  I’d told her I was flying back to the states to surprise my little sister for her graduation, but that I would be back for the end of the school year at IAS.  To my delight Miss Sandiego wrote me daily while I was home in Colorado and told me how excited she was to see me when I returned.  Her new enthusiasm gave me the resolve to tell her the truth. Honesty had to win out.

She picked me up from the grocery store the night I made it back to Xela and we went out to coffee.  Like all good coffee shop conversations we started talking about failed relationships.  And so I told her the current predicament I was in.  How I liked this girl, but was moving.

She was upset, but said we would hang out all the time until I left.  I even met her mom that night.  Wow! Why hadn’t I told the truth earlier?

The thing about Carmen Sandiego is even when you think you’ve caught her, she slips right out from under your nose.  By the time Alexa gave me the invitation to her party, I hadn’t seen miss Sandiego in a little while (more on that later).  But the invitation gave me hope.  I left McDonald’s and decided to walk home in the rain, which would give me time to think things over.

Deep in my heart, I hoped she would be at the gym, which conveniently enough was on my way home.   As I splashed up the puddled street to the gym, I scanned the area for her car.  No luck.  Downtrodden, I climbed the stairs to the second floor of the gym.  I’d use the bathroom and then head back out to the rainy night. Alone.

To my surprise on one of the treadmills across from the men’s locker room was Carmen Sandiego.

My throat constricted, how was I going to ask her to a dance?  After I told her I was moving and she took me to see her mom, we’d gone out one more time and well, she’d spent the evening texting a friend.  She was probably still heartbroken and too hurt to talk, but maybe she’d want to spend one last evening with me.

As we talked about work, and anything but the dance or my upcoming move, she offered me a ride home.  “I’ll ask her then,” I thought.  But no, I chickend out.  Okay, but maybe we’d hang out again later that night.  But no, my phone stopped working and so I spent the evening alone, such is life in Guatemala.

My final week in Xela crept up on me like Harry Potter in an invisibility cloak.  Before I knew it, I had four days until the dance and hadn’t seen Miss Sandiego in a week.  Really, I had given up on seeing her again, and I was kind of okay with that.  I thought it would be fun to take her, but figured it wouldn’t happen.  Maybe I was ready to move on.  Fortunately a mutual friend showed up at my house and offered to drive me up to Miss Sandiego’s secret hideout.  I jumped into her beat up jeep and she drove me to the pool hall.  After we played a little pool, at which I won, she took me to Miss Sandiego, which was well out of my walking distance and in a more dangerous area of town.

She answered the door and explained that she only had a little time to talk.  Faking confidence I told her I’d been invited to one of my student’s Quinceaños and I wanted her to be my guest.

She told me she would think about it, but that she didn’t like fancy parties and didn’t have a dress to wear.  Girls sure are difficult.  I made it clear that I really wanted her to go, but she wouldn’t budge.  Finally, she promised to let me know by Friday.

That Friday night, the night before the party, she told me she would go, but only if she didn’t have to stay the entire night.  I told her she was free to leave whenever she wanted.  Heck, I’d say anything just to have her there.  I was excited to have a date.

Saturday, the day of the party, I was hanging out with Fernando, one of my Guatemalan friends.  His wife was out-of-town so we had been maximizing our time on the Wii.  He thinks he is really good at Wii ping-pong, but I am better.  I was in the middle of thumping him, again, when my phone notified me that I had a text.  It was my friend telling me she was sorry that Miss Sandiego wasn’t going to make it to the dance.  I picked my wiimote back up and let Fernando beat me a couple of times.

Three years of trying to date a Guatemalan and on my last night it just wasn’t going to happen.  I thought I’d be terribly disappointed, but I wasn’t, and I’m still not sure why it didn’t bother me.

Fortunately I had an idea, why not take Fernando.  The party was a strict black and white affair and Fernando is the type of guy who is always looking for a chance to suit up.  He said yes, not hesitating for a second.

I got stood up by a girl, but the night wasn’t ruined because I went with a better friend.  Heck, if Miss Sandiego had gone to the dance with me I wouldn’t have been able to pay attention to my students.  I would’ve had to leave early when Miss Sandiego had gotten tired of dancing, which is something that never happens for me.  Instead I had one of the most memorable nights in Xela.

The food was great, but that’s not what made the night.  The dancing was awesome, when is burning up the dance floor with stupidity not the best thing ever?  But again that’s not what made the night.  Having Fernando there to talk to after I was finally allowed to sit down at the adult’s table (I had to explain I was a teacher and not a student) was a huge blessing, but eventually he left so he could get a good night sleep, as he was driving me to the airport the next day.  My night was made by my friends.  Those that came to the party just to say goodbye and give me back my sunglasses they’d kidnapped.  It was made in the quiet moments when my friends told me how much I meant to them and that they would miss me.

None of that would’ve happened if Miss Sandiego had been there.  She has since apologized for standing me up and so I ask my readers not to hate her.  God had a plan for that night, it just took me a while to realize that fact.

Because Fernando came with me to the party it further cemented our friendship.  It also taught me a little about how to be a true friend, something I have been working on doing here in Colorado.  And now he and his wife are living in the states and I was able to host them when they came through Colorado last month.  I thanked him for his friendship by beating him 7 straight times at Wii ping-pong.

That night in June as my students told me how much they’d miss me they stole my heart.  Since then I haven’t been able to stop dreaming about Guatemala.

And then my dreams came true.  No my old school wasn’t turned into Hogwarts, I was asked to form a team to lead the Spiritual Emphasis Week for IAS, of which I have written blogs for in the past.

So, why did it take me nine months to write this blog?  Because I didn’t know what the story was about until I went down to Xela during the first week of March for the Spiritual Emphasis week.  For the retreat we asked the students to share their stories, their lives.  Time and time again my students came up to me and told me what was going on in their lives, how they missed me, and asked me if they could throw me into the pool.

As I listened in I realized my last Guatemalan adventure was a story about how I was never alone while I was in Guatemala, because I had about 170 or so friends I was blessed to work with each day.  My students need to know that they made my time in Guatemala an adventure and they made that Quinceaños party special because they stopped being my students and started being my friends.

Sometimes it just takes awhile to realize who your friends are.

In the next couple of weeks I plan on writing more adventures from Spiritual Emphasis Week 2012, so please keep an eye out for new posts.  The new posts will tell fun stories about my friends and how God worked in all our lives while I was back in Guatemala.  You will also find out if I was thrown in the pool or not and if I got my revenge/or if I even needed to.  Thank you all for reading and for being a friend.

What’s The Perfect Birthday Gift?

Brendan Scott

You shop and shop for the perfect gift, well at least you should spend a good amount of time searching out that gift if you care for the special birthday guy or gal.  But even when you spend all that time shopping, sometimes that gift you spent hours hunting down in that specialty store can be met with an “Oh, that’s nice.”  Not the response you hoped for.

This has never happened to me.  I have just heard that it has happened to other people.  I love each gift I am given, no matter what.  And people love all of the gifts I give.

And this year I unwrapped the perfect gift.

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Time spent with my friends.  Yep, I’m that easy.  Even though I enjoy opening funny birthday cards almost as much as I love ripping through wrapping paper, I cherish my time with my friends and family.

After moving back to Colorado last June, I was actually a little nervous about my birthday this year.  I’d spent three years forming some awesome friendships in Guatemala but then decided to move back to the states and had to start from scratch.  Even though I’d lived in Colorado most of my life, after living outside of the country, I felt like I had lost contact with most of my college friends.  Life had moved on, and so I saw moving to Denver as fresh start.

The fresh start has been great.  Over the last couple of months, I have really started to form some strong meaningful friendships, but when Michael Gallup moved his family (this includes his cute little daughter Marry Grace and Cliff Hutchison his best friend) I wasn’t really sure what to expect for my birthday due to the fact I’d grown really close to the Gallups.

The Gallups took me in and included me in their community.  We’d gone to movies and shared meals together.  And so as my birthday rolled around, I was sad that they wouldn’t be there, just as sad about not having any of my former students or friends in Guatemala to celebrate the day I turned 28 with.

I love big celebrations just as much as time with my friends, probably because a big celebration means a lot of people to be around.  Last year I went zip-lining and had a dinner party at Don Rodrigos, a quant restaurant in Xela.  This year turned out to be just as special.

My dad, who I consider one of my best friends, and I hiked up into the mountains on my favorite trail near our house.  As we crunched our way through the deep snow we talked about stories, how we can live spiritually, and just life in general.  The snow made the trail hard to hike, every step was a full step forward and a half step back.  But we plowed on until we made it to the Lost Trail trail marker.  The aspen trees had lost their golden leaves a long time ago, but with the sun light hitting them just right, even in their naked state, they looked beautiful.

I love aspens because they live as one organism.  Each tree supports the one next to it.  As I hiked down to the truck with my dad, I realized that I’ve been in a season of nakedness too.  All of my old friendships have been stripped away.  And yet I am not alone.

That night I went out to dinner with some great new friends.  We stuffed ourselves with rich food from Merle’s in downtown Littleton and then made our way back to the Pickard’s house to play wii.  It might not have been as adventurous as zip-lining, but it was just as special.  I was reminded that, even though it might not look the same as my life in Guatemala, I was given something amazing for my birthday, an awesome group of friends.  And I wouldn’t exchange that gift for anything.

Thank you to everyone who helped make my 28th Birthday special!  And to all my friends in Xela who have made my life very special, see you in a week!!!

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 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.