Uk!

How do you pronounce the name, "Joj" or "Eliu?" We get names like these all the time on patient charts in our dental clinic. So today I wasn't terribly shocked to be handed a note by our receptionist telling me that my next patient was named "Uk." In Spanish that is pronounced, "Ook." I walked out into the waiting room and called out, "Uk. Uk." None of the eleven little girls responded. I checked the paper. "Uk," I tried again. Nothing.

Finally, I walked back to the receptionist and said, "There's no 'Uk' out here."

She laughed and said, "Whenever we have new patients and I don't know their names, I write UK which stands for "unknown."

As it turns out, our "Uk" was really "Kinchi."

All day long the other docs couldn't resist teasing me. "How's your patient "Uk" doing?" "Have you found "Uk" yet?"

Trudy and the girls

 I can forgive the unique names. As you can see, these kids are so darn cute! These particular girls are "Municipales." That means that their parents are so poor, they can't afford to keep them living at home. Through municipal government subsidies, young boys and girls live at the assigned schools, going home only on weekends. They sleep, are taught and fed at the schools. Their worldly possessions are almost nonexistent. And yet, they are the sweetest, happiest, most polite kids you've ever met.

By the end of this morning, I had treated five of the eleven girls. I walked into the waiting room and called out, "Quien es valiente?" or in English, "Who is brave?" Immediately, eleven little hands shot up in the air. Eleven huge smiles. Then, spontaneously, five little girls ran up and threw their thin little arms around me in the warmest hugs. Wow! I can't imagine a greater paycheck.

We also are blessed to help other groups of children. The littlest ones are called, "Patitos," meaning, "Little Ducks."  They arrive by bus, scared to death of the strange men called dentistas. In addition to doing dentistry for them, our challenge is to set them at ease, make them laugh, and make them want to keep coming back.

Open wide!

We work with other schools and orphanages. Some Tio Jaun orphans live a few miles away. Others live inside the same compounds as our dental office. Students from Esperanzas live at school and only get to see their parents four times each year. These kids walk sixteen long blocks to get to our clinic. After having their teeth worked on (sometimes for hours), they walk sixteen blocks back to their school. And they never seem to complain.

It is so great to be able to help these special children. And as icing on the cake, we get to work with future missionaries and full-time missionaries from the local MTC. Trudy and I love our mission in Guatemala!

PS. We'll keep searching.  If we ever find Uk we'll let you know.

PPS. I don't feel too bad about my mistake because the other day Trudy asked a future missionary if he wanted a beer. Oops! " Cervasa" (beer) kinda sounds like "servilleta" (napkin).

Land of Eternal Spring

In Guatemala, Land of Eternal Spring, blossoming trees can stand over four stories tall and display blossoms in as many colors as the rainbow.

Guatemala Gang Members

There are lots of gangs in Guatemala City. So, we decided to join one. It's a tough bunch. Let me introduce you to the gang:

That's us, Natalie, the Smiths, Carol, the Hogges, and Mary Ann

Rick Smith is our current gang leader. Sadly, Rick and his right-hand woman Sherry are being exported back to Gilbert, Arizona in a couple of weeks. It is not uncommon to find Rick out in the reception room with a dozen kids gathered around while he appears to be playing with them. But don't be mistaken by his soft disguise.  He's a former Colonel in the Air Force, a Lieutenant in the Navy, and a trained killer.  He's just out of practice at the moment.

Sherry keeps Rick under control. Otherwise, who knows what kind of chaos and mayhem we might have?

Sherry Smith

From Logan, Utah, the Hogges are next in line:

Larry Hogge can cut you to the quick with his knife-sharp sense of humor. He constantly keeps us in stitches. As far as his dentistry is concerned, Larry is fearless. He'll tackle any wisdom tooth no matter how impacted. If it's a battle between a wisdom tooth and Larry, sorry wisdom tooth, you lose. Shaun, his comrade, doesn't faint at the sight of blood. Although she's not directly responsible, she encourages Larry.

The gatekeeper!

That's what people call Ellen Clason. It has been rumored that she has kept dozens of rambunctious teenage boys sitting quietly for hours. No sissy could do that.

Our gang is so notorious, we have to wear masks. This is a rare peek at my sidekick, Trudy, and me without our faces covered. Note the fear in our victim's eyes.

O yea, the whole gang is bad. But only the roughest, toughest, meanest hombre gets his image immortalized in tile on the wall of pain.  I'm that hombre!

These tall walls protect our hideout. And we definitely need them!

Safe Passage

"Visiting Safe Passage entails risk, including risk of sickness, accident, theft, robbery, and/or assault, which in extreme cases could result in rape or death."  These and other haunting words on the one-page release form made me wonder what kind of field trip Sister Duncan had arranged for us.  I signed the waiver, watched a brief video about the Safe Passage program and boarded the bus along with other sister missionaries.

Circling ravens and stench in the air soon let me know that we were nearing our destination.  As our bus crawled toward the city dump, garbage cluttered the streets, spilling out of houses and filling front yards.

Even in this chaos, a few families went to great effort to wash clean clothes and maintain a sense of order.

It is not known exactly how many families hide and live in the Guatemala City dump illegally, but approximately three thousands people make their living by "going to work" in these squalid conditions, searching with bare hands through medical waste, household trash and industrial chemicals; hoping to find anything to eat or sell.  They find very little of value.  By the time the refuse reaches the dump, the trash has already been picked over three times by various garbage collectors.  Some children sort through trash along side their parents.

Other kids are far more fortunate.  Thanks to private donations, these children and teens attend Safe Passage school where they are educated and given daily meals.

These kids are the poorest of the poor.  I had expected them to be sad, dirty and perhaps angry.  Instead, I found smiling, clean students who were friendly and eager to help.

Some adults are also given scholarships.

Among other skills, women learn how to make jewelry out of donated magazines.  I purchased one of their necklaces that came in a hand-made bag.  On the bus ride home, I noticed something special about my little sack.  Spanish writing contained scriptures from the Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants.  When I got home, Jay interpreted the article for me.  One quote seemed particularly meaningful, "We don't accomplish anything by criticizing the darkness; we need to replace it with light."

Punch and Trudy

I'm afraid we overdid it with the cookies and punch! We had enough left over following the open house on Saturday that we served them again after the dedication on Sunday. Kids and adults alike loved the refreshments. Galletas y jugo. Delicioso!

Jasmin Elizabet Zuleta

The people in our branch are very humble with little money.

One of the young girls was thrilled to be able to keep  a clear plastic box that had contained cookies.

Adults carefully washed out punch jugs to take home and use. One sister asked me if she could take home a few of the plastic cups because hers at home were so small. Of course I said, "yes."

Trudy gets hugs and kisses from the women and children in the branch, even some of the young boys.

I was so proud of Trudy on Saturday. She spent about half an hour visiting with the young teenage boys of the branch. They swarmed around her and somehow she held their complete attention for all that time. I have no idea what she said, but I suspect she used every Spanish word she had ever learned.

I visited with one sweet sister and told her that she had a great husband. She responded in Spanish, "But he doesn't love me."

A little shocked, I said, "I'm sure he does."

"Not enough to take me to the temple," she said.

Her husband looked a little embarrassed.

I didn't let him off the hook. I said, "Being sealed to your family is really important.

I then related to him the story of my parents coming to Utah from England to be married in the temple. After they were sealed, their young daughter, my sister, was also sealed to them in the temple. Within four years, she was diagnosed with leukemia and shortly thereafter died. That sealing in the temple was so important to my parents throughout all the rest of their lives.

The woman's husband listened. He then promised me, "Before the year is out, I will take my family to the temple."

I will hold him to that promise.

President Monterroso and President Caffaro

President Caffaro dedicated the new chapel.

We love President and Sister Caffaro

Our branch at Pueblo Nuevo Vinas

I Can Smile in Spanish!

A 20 foot wall marred by no graffiti surrounds our steeple-less prefabricated church house. Just outside the wall, the cluttered busy streets of Pueblo Nuevo Vinas echo with revving motorcycles, chatting people, and crowing roosters. Inside the wall, we have no problem finding a parking space because Sunday after Sunday, ours is the only car. Villagers arrive gradually on "Guatemala time." By the end of sacrament meeting, about 50 people have walked to church.

The challenge for Jay and me is to figure out how to help our brothers and sisters in this struggling little branch. Jay speaks to them in Spanish, bears his testimony, and contributes to priesthood lesson discussions. During Sacrament Meeting and Relief Society I smile a lot and try to look alert during the rapid-fire garbled sounds of the language that is virtually meaningless to me.

One of the small things we do each week is bring a care package for the two Elders stationed here. One Elder from Peru is healthy and quite at home in his surroundings. The Elder from California, however, has been sick for most of his mission and has lost over 30 pounds. He was so excited when we first brought him a jar of peanut butter. 

"I was going to ask my mom if she could figure out a way to mail me some," he said. Of course, it would never have arrived even if she would have been able to pay the exorbitant postage on UPS-type service (where packages simply "disappear" before they are even delivered). Additionally, there is no national mail service--no mail boxes, no post offices, no delivery. In Pueblo Nuevo Vinas, there aren't even addresses on houses.

Next Saturday, we are having our branch open house. With my limited language skills, I asked the Relief Society President if I could furnish anything. She told me to bring "finales." I knew that meant dessert so I asked if cookies would be OK. 

She said, "yes."

"Cuanto?" I asked, "how many?"

At first I thought I had misunderstood her answer. Jay confirmed that it was correct. 

"Bring 150."

Jay then asked, "What are we going to drink?"

"Whatever you bring," was her answer.

So we are bringing cooking, punch, napkins and paper cups for 150 people. I hope a lot of non-members show up. 

While we were still standing in the parking lot, the branch president produced an unused keyboard from a storage shed. I'll be playing prelude next week. My piano skills aren't good and I've never played a keyboard before; but Jay says I am the best (and only) keyboard player in the branch - probably in the whole town!

The Lord uses what and who is available at the time. If He can feed 5000 with a few fishes and loaves of bread, it should be easy for Him to help us provide cookies and music for 150 Guatemalans. Oh, and peanut butter sandwiches for two missionaries. 

P. S.
Jay took this picture during Priesthood Meeting. The dog is sleeping so we think he may be a High Priest. 

Banditos, Skinny Cows and an Answer to Prayer

We had no address for our newly assigned branch in Pueblo Nuevo Vinas (because buildings in that town had no addresses). Since we had no clue as to how to find the church house, we decided to take the 1 1/2 hour drive on Saturday to scout out the area before our first Sunday meeting. The drive was as frightening as it was beautiful. We saw waterfalls, deep canyons and erupting volcanoes.

Although scenic, the secluded mountain road seemed to us like a perfect hiding place for banditos, waiting to ambush two gringos in a shiny new car.

We occasionally passed through small villages of one-roomed tin huts where families gathered outside to cook and eat their meals.

In fields, skinny cows grazed, and noisy children played. Smiling faces helped calm our uneasy feelings.

At last, the pothole-rutted road smoothed, and bright red three-wheeled vehicles began to appear. These colorful taxis are called "tuk-tuks" down here.

When we saw the sign, "Pueblo Nuevo Vinas," we knew we had arrived - safe, sound and alive!

We had found our town, but where was our church building? We drove up and down the streets, searching for a steeple, for a sign or for any hint that a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saint chapel existed in this pueblo of 15,000 people.

We pulled our car to the side of a narrow crowded road and said a quiet prayer, asking for Heavenly Father to help us find the right building.  Only minutes later, Jay stopped the car again.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm going to talk to that man right there," Jay answered. He pointed to a man who was standing just inside an open doorway.

I wondered why, of all the people in the streets, Jay had chosen this person.

Our church house
is found just behind
this steel gate.

In Spanish, Jay explained our situation and asked if this man knew the location of the Mormon church building.

"I do know where it is," the man responded. He then told us that, although he was not a Mormon, he owned the property on which the chapel was built. He even had the keys to the gate of the high wall which surrounded and obscured the church building.

"Can you tell us how to find that building?" Jay asked.

"It is difficult to explain how to find it, and you can't see the church house from the street," said the man, "but I would be happy to take you there." He climbed into the backseat of our Rav-4 and took us directly to his property. He even opened the gate so that we could see the place where we would spend the next eighteen months serving the people of Pueblo Nuevo Vinas. Of the thousands of people in Pueblo Nuevo Vinas, only two  men owned keys to the church property. Our Heavenly Father lead us directly to one of those men.

Our prayer had been answered, and we no longer feared the dangers of our journey.

Our church house

We have now made that round-trip drive three times. Each time we learn to love it more, and as far as we know, no bandito's lurk in the bushes - only...

skinny cows.