Montana Catholic Article

This is the long version of the article I sent for publication in the Montana Catholic...although I'm sure what actually appeared is much shorter...


Vernor Muñoz, a United Nations education official, visited Guatemala this July. He toured the country, met with top officials and studied facts and figures pertaining to education. On July 29th, Muñoz issued a report of his findings, sharing the state of Guatemalan public education with the world.

His conclusions were dismal, and embarrassing. Nationally, Guatemala invests between 1.9 and 2% of its GDP on education, a number Muñoz unapologetically labeled “unacceptable.” He’s got cause for concern; that’s the lowest level of education investment in all of Latin America. The importance of this figure wasn’t lost on me as I read through a summary of the report, but it certainly didn’t reach at least 24% of the population. Nearly a quarter of all Guatemalans, after all, are illiterate. The percentage soars to 39% in the rural areas, where as many as half of all women have never been taught to read or write. This isn’t to say that they wouldn’t like to. However, when 54% of the country suffers from chronic malnutrition, I’d wager that they’re more occupied searching for food than studying school books.

Muñoz lamented the obvious structural racism which exists in the public schools, where native Mayans suffer from exclusion and discrimination on an impressive scale. He highlighted the utter lack of support for the rich, ancient Mayan culture, the dearth of bilingual teachers and a complete disregard for teaching the unique Mayan cosmovision. Of particular concern is the slow death of Mayan languages. In Guatemala, 23 indigenous idioms are spoken, but with unilingual Spanish education taking place in most schools, their preservation is seriously endangered.

Of course, when 1.5 million children are employed in child labor instead of sitting in classrooms, there is some hope that the “old ways” of poverty and subsistence living will survive a bit longer.

My reactions to Muñoz’ findings were mixed. I’ve been teaching at Asunción for two months now, and I’ve started to get a feel for the school, students and surroundings. Working in a tiny, isolated mountain village, I’m living among the poverty which plagues 82% of rural Guatemala. Only 123 of our students board; the rest live in surrounding villages. Many of these kids return from school to homes empty of food, and wake in the morning with stomachs still growling. Xejuyup, the town where Asunción is located, is the incarnation of state statistics describing an impoverished population.

And yet, Asunción clearly exists outside of the Muñoz report. As a private institution unassociated with the national education system, we weren’t included in the tour or statistics. Had he visited this pretty little school, I think the reaction would have been delight. Here, tucked neatly between waterfalls and mountains, a truly quality education is changing lives.

Despite having only 558 students, Asunción boasts the best library in the entire Suchitepéquez state. Our students sang the national anthem in Ki’che’, accompanied by a band of flutes, at the regional “Teacher’s Day” conference this June. A Congressman from the state of Sololá who happened to be present was so impressed that he invited our choir to sing for Congress; we sent sixty students on August 8th..

Enthusiastic and dedicated teachers interact with their pupils both inside and outside of the classroom. They’re supported by fantastic administration whose approachability and interest have them constantly in contact with students and staff alike. On Father’s Day, for example, the boarding students insisted on putting on a variety show to honor the school’s male administrators and professors. Touched, they stayed for several hours before going home to their “real” families.

Most importantly, Muñoz’ observations about cultural suppression are the antithesis of Asunción. I’m one of the very few teachers who doesn’t speak Ki’che’, although I do occasionally surprise my students by asking “la utz awatch ut?” (“How are you?”) or responding to “Good afternoon teacher!” with “xeq’ij!” (“Good afternoon!”). Nearly all of our students are Ki’che’ Indians, wearing their native dress, eating traditional foods and nearly always speaking their indigenous language. Required classes of Mayan Mathematics, Ki’che’ Language and Guatemalan Cultures ensure that all of our students stay in touch with their native roots. Being Indian is seen as cause for pride and celebration. Miss Asunción, elected annually, must give a speech in Ki’che, wear and explain the significance of her region’s formal dress and perform a native dance or ceremony.

In short, I’ve been impressed by Asunción, and judging by the shortcomings which Muñoz found in Guatemalan education, he would have been too.

Of course, my experiences here haven’t exactly been a bed of roses. It’s been something more along the lines of a bed of pineapples, I’d say: sweet, but not always comfortable. Tackling classes of fifty-five teenagers, all eager to coax an outburst from the new teacher, is not an easy task. I had absolutely no formal training in education before stepping into my first classroom, and the learning curve has been steep. Our resources could most optimistically be described as “limited,” while my huge classes are, in a euphemistic sense, well beyond exuberant. The daily tropical downpour which beats on my tin-roofed classroom means I end most days exhausted and with a raspy voice.

However, frustration quickly dissolves when my students offer to guide me to a hidden waterfall tomorrow, or bring me fresh jalapeños from home. The kids adore teaching me Ki’che’, with its impossibly difficult words, and invest an impressive amount of time into trying to coach distinctive clicks, clacks and clucks out of my throat. The language sounds like a mixture of Arabic, German, and the African clicking bush language. Basically, there are lots of lilting, pretty sounding words, like “iliawakan” (toes: iyll-e-a-wal-kan), which are started, finished, or interrupted by guttural clicks and gurgles. Luckily, the kids are so animated in their teaching endeavors that I’ve yet to tire of making an effort. They assure me I’m a quick learner, although I have to wonder how much of that is genuine truth and how much of it is encouraging teachers talking.

Meal times can be especially fun, since I frequently turn into the focal point for my table as they collectively contribute to my vocabulary. Adding to the festive mood is their distinctive fashion of flamboyant oral jewelry. Most of the girls, and many adults, too, have several pieces of gold accent on their teeth. Sometimes it’s a whole golden tooth (I inquired; they’re actually just glued foil covers), other times it’s initials, stars or hearts. It’s quite a sight when a whole table of girls sparkles their metallic glee after I mispronounce “Ixquiactap” (it’s a last name.)

Speaking of mealtimes, perhaps I’ll take a few minutes to describe the general menu. Food at the school is consistent if nothing else; nearly every meal is beans. Occasionally they mix things up, adding rice, soft cheese or eggs, but generally it’s rotating varieties of legume, always accompanied by tortillas. Occasionally, the cooks really outdo themselves, whipping up delicacies unlike anything you’ll find at home. Today’s lunch is a fine example: I was served a watery pool of whole pinto beans garnished with a cow hoof. I turned down the hoof.

Most importantly, every meal is begun and ended with both an Our Father and a sung prayer asking for the blessing of our food. When we start and close a simple, two-ingredient meal with a prayer thanking God for abundance, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that this is actually abundance. Here, at La Asunción, we get three meals a day. At home, many of these girls would never have such plentiful food.

Living and working here is an opportunity for constant personal growth. My occasional frustration with giant, boisterous classes is well complemented by Monday night group Rosary. When I feel like I’m not making progress with my students, I’m able to devote some time to working on much-needed fundraising efforts. When I begin to miss my family and friends at home, I swing wide the door to my bedroom and am quickly visited by the cheerful talkative girls who want to know all about me. What I’m doing certainly isn’t easy, but there’s no doubt that it’s wonderful.

Generous donations from student sponsors, imperative to the continued success of our school, are giving Guatemala a chance. Our school and students rely on the support of our donors, especially through the sponsorship program. The beloved Padre Santiago (you probably know him as Father Hazelton; “Santiago” is one Spanish translation of James) will be traveling back to the states for a well-deserved break this month. However, characteristic to his hard-working spirit, it will be a working vacation. The padre’s annual Hazy Days celebration is one of our largest fundraisers, providing students with much-needed scholarships to continue their education at Asunción. At only $30 a month, it’s incredible the impact such a small contribution can have on the lives of these students and on the future of their country. If you don’t feel capable of supporting a student individually, I suggest sharing a sponsorship at work, Bible study, in your book club or simply with a few friends.

The education system which Muñoz criticized so heavily is a world apart from what we’ve got at Asunción. He’s right: there are major problems in Guatemala. While international organizations and a corrupt internal government try to sort it all out, institutions like our own will continue quietly educating future leaders. Only by creating a generation of educated, involved individuals will there ever be hope of overcoming the problems uncovered by Muñoz.

Statistics:
La Prensa Libre, Guatemala City, Guatemala. July 29, 2008.
Presentation by Dr. Hugo Icu, ASECSA Director (Guatemalan Association of Community Health Services). July 5, 2008.