Today we woke up to the smells of cake baking and meat being grilled. They had a picnic type pot-luck thing at the church to raise money for the parish, San Marcos. Then we spent the day with Leonel’s youth group at the basurero singing and playing with the kids and giving lunch out. There’s so many extremes there in that the kids are so full of joy sometimes but you can see the sadness in their eyes.

While we were there someone broke into one of the houses and stole a cell phone. Some of the kids ran for a phone to call the police and others went hunting for the man. They caught him, and held him there but the police never arrived. It makes me wonder what they did with the thief.

One of the saddest things to see there is that when a car enters the dump the kids go running for the car and jump on the back to be the first to dig through the garbage and see what they can salvage. I saw it, it broke my heart.

But even though there’s so much sadness that doesn’t define who these children are. Inside, they’re children just like every other kid on the planet and you get to see their real selves when they’re playing and singing and laughing and forgetting that they live where they live and their lives are as they are.

So here are some images, some happy some sad.

This photo needs and explanation. The beer here is called Gallo which means rooster. The kids in the youth group told us that when you’re too drunk to order more with your words, just say “Mesero!” and do the action you see below. It’s been the inside joke all week.

Yesterday we set out with Leonel and his kids to his uncle’s farm. It was absolutely breathtaking and now I want to move there. But don’t worry Kess, just as a cabin… I mean… retreat home. We spent the day dancing, drinking, laughing, and doing other pilgrimage things.

Today we woke up at 6:30am and headed out to an aldea so remote we were the first gringos to ever visit there. I imagine Basil and Berie (the Americans at the monastery) have been there, but they don’t count because they’re mostly Guatemalan now anyway after 40 years of living here. The trek to the aldea was challenging but imaging yourself coming over a hill and suddenly there are little houses and you hear singing and marimba in the mountain air. You arrive and are given a hot meal, tortillas, tamales, hot coco, and more tortillas. Then Pedro says mass and it’s the only time the people there will hear mass until a year from now. And you don’t understand a word they’re saying.

So, here are the images, and don’t forget to note the images of Padre Pedro drinking the beer we bought on the way home while driving us home. I love this country.

I’m lucky enough to be back in Coban, Guatemala for a week. It’s been an amazing week so far but I have to say it’s very different for me having other Americans around. Last time I was here I felt so immersed in the culture, and this time it’s such a blast but I feel like I’m not learning as much. There are trade-offs for everything I guess. I just hate to think that the life of a photographer on the road means you have to be alone all the time in order to not be distracted.

Today we went out to an aldea and were lucky enough to be there when 40 water filters were donated to the people. It was a joyous day in the aldea, and there are many more to come. I haven’t been shooting all that much, but here you go. Hopefully there’ll be more to come in the next few days…

I’m leaving for Guatemala on Tuesday to spend another week with the Benedictine monks in Coban, and I happened to turn on NPR this morning and heard this amazing Speaking of Faith about prayer. There are 3 different perspectives on prayer, and they’re so interesting. This show is around an hour long, so you may want to sit down if you’re going to listen to it. Enjoy.

[audio:http://www.mattblum.com/blog/upload/sof_052208.mp3]

So Dan is moving to Chicago, and that means I need to find a new ping pong partner. First Dalasta moved to Mexico, now Dan… the good ones are dropping like flies.