"Flowers" By Anne Michaels, from "The Weight of Oranges"

If there is one other person to affect my heart and my thoughts other than Jesus, may it be this woman...

There's another skin inside my skin
that gathers to your touch, a lake to the light;
that looses its memory, its lost language
into your tongue,
erasing me into newness.

Just when the body thinks it knows
the ways of knowing itself,
this second skin continues to answer.

In the street - café chairs abandoned
on terraces; market stalls emptied
of their solid light,
though pavement still breathes
summer grapes and peaches.

Like the light of anything that grows
from this newly-turned earth,
every tip of me gathers under your touch,
wind wrapping my dress around our legs,
your shirt twisting to flowers in my fists.

A cup can only spill what it contains--mewithoutyou

Don't sacrifice the girl for the sake of the woman.


As John, Jenna and I were taking video and photos of a local artisan to be used for the fair trade parties in the fall, John mentioned how the guy that is editing these photos said that in your shot, you must always have movement, because no one wants to see a still shot, no matter how beautiful it might be.

I disagreed, and told jenna so as we were sewing patches and buttons onto table napkins-turned-bandeezees. I say this because all I desire to do in life is capture moments; to take a photo and make that particular moment in time last forever. I do not remember in terms of motion, only in terms of particular moments in time; a smile, a touch, the way the sun hits the angles of someone's face, the way someone's eyes say more than their mouth, the angle of a body as someone is reading, the way someone's hair smells after they shower. These are what I will remember.

A Bueno day

On Wednesday, as I sat down beside Annie, my spanish teacher from 8 to 10:30 in the morning, she told me that there was a big festival and parade going on that day in Antigua. I said I wish we could go, to which she replied, "we can, right now! just ask your friends!" and so, clearly we vamosed our butts over to antigua for probably one of the best days I've ever had here.

Something you must know is that I absolutely adore my spanish teacher. She is radiant and bubbly and loving and spontaneous, and come tomorrow, I will be giving her daughter photography lessons, for she is also an absolute gem.

Anyways, we started our day in Antigua perusing this huge stand of books, old and new, historical and comical, all displayed beneath this giant old building. I purchased a spanish dream interpretation book and also some kind of spanish romance book, which I bought soley for its cover, and a book of herbal remedies. Jenna bought a book of poetry, called "a simple life" or something to that effect, which the other day we spent half our spanish lesson collectively reading to each other...it had a lot of butterflies in it if I remember correctly.

So, back to Antigua...as we were looking at the books, a blast of music errupted from these huge speakers in the street, making everyone jump, and soon jenna and I were dancing in the street while locals laughed and two caterers with big huge white bakery hats spurred us on from their nearby van. I felt intrinsically a part of something beautiful in that moment, and I will remember it always.

As the parade started, filled with many a marching band which Jenna became instantly enamoured of, Annie pointed to an upper balcony on the building with the books, and said "arriba!"(indicating, "let's go up there!") and began to push her way through the throngs of people to get back to the book area,jenna and her teacher close behind and then quickly found the stairs that lead up to the balcony, where we had a full view of all the festivities. Once the owners of the building kicked the handful of us sneakies out of the balcony area, Annie made sure we always had front row views of everything that was going on, and I got some pretty amazing shots, which I shall now display for your viewing pleasure.

I can't explain to you how alive I felt that day. Sure, I was a tourist taking photos of a culture I can barely comprehend, but yet, I was laughing and joking with Annie in Spanish, being embraced by her, and felt that I was not as foreign from these people and this place as language barriers and cultural differences would make us believe we are. We were all just people, under the same sun, loving the same way, enjoying the same things. *I appologize in advance for the poor organization of these photos below, I'm far too lazy to make them look sweet right now.

,

Skeptic vs Spectacle

As I swept leaves from the floors of the Casa Verde and listened to Me without You, a poem crept into my brain:

the difference between you and me (yes, i know "you and me" is not grammatically correct)
is that whereas I sweep
you merely critique on the dirt I've left behind

the difference
between you and me
is that while I dance in the streets
you tap your toes in your seat

the difference between
you
and me
is that while I'm giving love in the form of a kiss on the cheek
you scoff at the word and ponder its meaning

the difference between you
and I
is that while we listen to the same song
I listen to it ten times, while you're eager to pass it by

the difference between
you and me
is the space between an embrace of akward distant relatives
and that of love struck teens

the difference between you
and
I
is that while my eyes are overflowing
yours are dry
while I drink velvet
you drink rye

The Earth Lodge *edited for clarity*

*As Jon read my blog, and as I re-read my blog, I realized I didn't even mention who went on this trip, and therefore, when I talk about how "one of them is going to slap me", clearly it only makes sense if I tell you that it was Jenna, myself, Nick and John on this particular trip, and therefore Nick and John are the slappers in question. * Here's a little taste of what my weekend off looked like. The Earth Lodge is a little slice of heaven, snuggled in the mountains and volcanoes just outside of Antigua. We only had to travel about 40 minutes to get there from El Tizate, half the trip being us in the back of a faded yellow pickup truck as we rounded endless bends on our asscent up the mountain slopes. Apparently last year there were no paved roads, but this year it seems there has been more development, and so most of the roads were cement. I've got a video of our ride up, but I have no idea if I can figure out how to put it on here...but reader's digest version: John describing antigua in a nasal-y british accent, and nick spitting his gum out at me.

So, back to the descriptions of the Earth Lodge. From the convorsations I had this weekend, I now know the following: It's run by a Canadian couple, Drew and Brianna, who started this place about 4 years ago, with the help of a business partner who had previously purchased this land and was just waiting for the economy to pick up and have someone actually do something with it. Aside from the half dozen or so cottages that they rent out, they also have an avocado farm, which, if you so choose, you can work on to earn your room and board. Pretty frigging amazing. There is this dude from Israel who apparently had only just arrived last year when Jenna was there before, and he has just stayed on indefinately. One of my favorite memories was him and this other "friendly as advertised" tattoo artist/ jewelery maker coming out of the brush with machetes, looking like some kind of amazon men.

As I mentioned on Facebook, Jenna and I spent our nights in the one and only "tree house" avaiable at the earth lodge. We had to walk up these long winding steps to get to our casa de las arboles, and once we marvelled at the view of the mountains and volcanoes and the entire city of antigua on our little deck with a hammock, we opened the small, oddly shaped door and stepped into a room where litterally one entire wall was just windows looking out onto a green paradise.

(yes, this is Jenna reading my favorite book ever, Fugitive Pieces. I think if Jenna and I rant about this novel anymore, one of them might actually smack us. Also, they had Fugitive Pieces at the Earth Lodge in their selection of books, and this made me quite happy). Although the boys were quite tired, and at times I felt like a little sister trying to make her big brother play with her, all and all it was a fantastic weekend full of reading in hammocks or on muskoka chairs, swinging on this fantastic rope swing that made you feel like you were swinging over the entire earth, and lots of managing to fit four people in a tiny bed to read or nap or watch movies, most of the time by candlelight.

One of the other best parts of this weekend was my HOT SHOWER! yes, it's true, normally, I shower in a cement box, in the dark, with cold water...which makes me highly promote water conservation in the form of only showering every three days. But this weekend, for 5Q, I got to have a big huge friggin hot shower all to myself. bliss...other than the water pressure was pretty much like a wet dog shaking itself overtop of my head...



So, all in all, I'd say this is a pretty frigging amazing missions trip. Also, I'd say that if you are a cheapskate, come to Guatemala, as this entire weekend cost me about 40 bucks. Also, after a sweet convo with Ash and Jenna in bed last night, I'm thinking I need to rethink my entire career path...more on that later.

It's raining...and I'm homesick

It's raining and I am alone in this office, listening to Andrew and Kat teach a handful of adults simple english phrases. i have left the "community night" which consists mostly of kids coming in and out, asking for extra helpings of the cake Anna Julia has prepared in order to take them home to their families. I have just written a bunch of emails to people I miss, and I sit here missing them still.

I just want to say to everyone at home that you are wonderful, amazing and fantastic. There are so many moments here that I wish you could be here for, to laugh with, to cry with, to run around like crazy people with. I thank God for the incredibly passionate, incredibly talented, and just all around beautiful people he has placed in my life back home.

I am overwhelmed with the anticipation of coming home and starting a new life for myself. Before I left, a few of us had started a small group to feel more connected with each other, and in the fall, if all goes according to plan, I will be living out my dreams further by moving into an appartment with the lovely and inspiring Jenna Kessler. My desire for community living will be taken that one step further, and I really hope that lethargy does not once again overshadow the passion that God has placed in me.

A last thought: despite the poverty of this place, there is something beautiful in simplicity. I am greeted every night by three smiling, wonderful children, eager to jump on my back and tickle me and none of them ever seem to have a care in the world. They are fed and clothed and have a roof over their head. They are quite content to play with marbles or old toys, and the lack of video games and (well, they DO have tv, but aren't glued to it) other mindless activities simply leads them to spend more time with their parents, or more time with eachother, and I think that is beautiful. Flor, my "mom", who is actually only 25, and her husband Byron, both seem quite content, people who love their children, keep their house clean, and provide love for each other, their family members, and some random white girls living on their second floor ;).

What more does a person need than love and the basics?

Verbal Diarhea or a Mind Overflowing

Sometimes, as I ramble off romantic observations about the world, about how Jenna has eyes that you can share a moment with, or about how much I love old ruined buildings because I feel like it is looking at the earth reclaiming what once belonged to her, I wonder if others feel like I am just talking to be heard, or if they feel like I am talking just to fill space.

But truthfully, I have always had a deep longing and a deep passion for shared experiences. If I find something is beautiful, I want someone else to experience that beauty too. I want to know what people think about the world. I want them to know what I think too. I like watching facial expressions during movies. If a joke is told, I find more joy in laughing at other people's laughter than the joke itself. There is nothing I desire more than to just share God's creation with others (and I do not mean in an evangelical way). In my on again off again theological thought that Christians should remain childlike, I remain in a state of constant wonder and awe at the beauty around me. Why should I be ashamed or worried about what others think of my poetic ramblings? What more can I do in life than share my heart, appreciate what God has given me, and inspire others to do the same?

Side note: Jenna, Nick and I spent about 1/2 an hour in a cafe the other day, after Jenna and I had purchased some journals from a shop that makes its own paper. We were sitting at a small stone table next to a fountain with a fish spitting water, and for the first time since I was 11, I saw a hummingbird up close, and was amazed. The three of us sat silently, Nick reading Life of Pi while Jenna and I wrote poetry. Once both of us had finished, we exchanged journals to find that both of us had written poetry about the moment at hand: the sights and sounds happening around us, and I will forever be enamoured of that moment. I am enamoured of moments in general. I make lists of beautiful things, I seem to write only about moments, and care to photograph only in terms of moments. I hope to continue to capture moments throught the summer and share as many of them with you as i can.