Iraq War performance piece.
Iraq War performance piece (close-up).
Giant, peaceful puppet.
Rumsfeld leads a “chain gang” (Rice, Cheney and Bush followed).
Dedicated protestor.
Capitol Building, after the march.
Museum of Natural History - Whoever guesses what this is will receive a public accolade on my blog.
Washington Monument after sunset.
Washington Monument after moonrise.
They just don’t make presidents like they used to.
Dude, you definitely got the wrong guy.
Don’t feel like reading the whole thing? Check out the volunteer opportunities at the bottom of this post and vote!
Yesterday Lacey and I drove to Washington, DC to visit friends and attend the rally and march against the Iraq war. It was a gorgeous sunny Saturday, the shiny white swell of the Capitol rising behind a ragged ocean of protest signs that stretched for blocks back down the mall. Positioned between two fifteen-foot tall puppets, Lacey and I and our friend Davis shouted and cheered and believed, along with Tim Robbins, Susan Sarandon and the gang, that the troop surge could be stopped, that the hour might still come for impeachment, that this was, of course, what democracy looked like.
When the rally gave way to the bottleneck of a march, the three of us cut, sunburned and jubilant, away from the crawling mass of protestors and across the mall to the back steps of the Capitol. Without our small “War is not the Answer” signs we might have been foreign tourists, smiling at policemen, pointing in the sun, leaning back to squint and snap pictures of the brilliant dome.
But a scene stopped us at the foot of the steps. Two women stood, silent, on makeshift black pedestals, one dressed in dusty business clothes and pressing a long red ribbon to her heart, the other swathed in black, a black scarf wrapped around her head. A third, in a camoflage military uniform, walked up the steps toward them, unpacking a thick bolt of red satin from her army backpack as she went. The three women looked exactly the same, dreamlike triplets. When the woman in military uniform reached the top, she handed the swath of red satin to the woman in Muslim black, who pressed its end against her heart while the soldier took her own place on the middle pedestal, a long, thin ribbon pressed to her own chest.
The three women stood on the black pedestals in a light breeze, the two thin ribbons twisting at times while the river of red satin billowed and settled and billowed again across the steps below their feet. A fourth woman, heavyset, older, wearing a “Veterans for Peace” t-shirt, approached and asked if she could join them. The triplets remained silent. 
The fourth woman stepped closer and raised a flag, taking her place just as silently next to them. The four made a still row, ribbons and flag rippling in the sun, the river of red writhing and billowing across the steps below.
Stooping to read a small card at the foot of the steps, I saw that one square inch of the red satin represented twelve lives lost. Whispers in the crowd identified the three symbolic women: a victim of the September 11 terrorist attacks, a fallen American soldier, and an Iraqi. The fourth lent her presence unnanounced. The quartet stood straight-backed in the sun, small flag and long red ribbons and the desperately wide river of satin rolled and tugged by the breeze.
(Click for a larger picture of the performance piece.)
Since deciding to live in Guatemala this fall, Lacey and I have been focused on a city known by everyone as Xela (officially Quetzaltenango). We hear that Xela is a wonderful place to live, volunteer, and learn Spanish, a vibrant, friendly gateway to the mountains, still resistant to the cultural influences of US and European expats and tourists. Although we originally hoped to be financially self-sufficient in our travels, Xela has charmed us into a different set of expectations: we’ll be volunteering, hoping to earn our room and board but prepared to use our (not yet saved) savings for whatever needs aren’t otherwise filled.
I like to think I’m not afflicted with grandiose illusions about what it means to volunteer in another country: I know that I am incredibly fortunate for the opportunity, and I expect it will benefit me as much as (or quite possibly more than) those I work with. My hope is that the experience will allow for growth on both sides. This is how I make sense of our plan to volunteer in Xela: by anticipating that the relationships we develop will be the most important part of the experience for everyone involved.
Still, there is that wide, red river of satin across the bottom of the Capitol steps. This is a complicated world and there is a lot about it I don’t understand. And as you’ll see below, finding a volunteer opportunity, even in a place where there are plenty of them, is a fairly complicated decision-making process.
So here are links to some of the opportunities that I’m considering. Please, let me know what you think. This process is completely new and unfamiliar to me, and input from anyone is welcome and encouraged. And if you know about a great opportunity that I haven’t mentioned here, please tell me!
1. Quetzaltrekkers: Guides help lead treks for tourists to surrounding mountains, lakes and volcanoes. Proceeds fund (almost entirely, I think) a local school educating almost 150 local children, grades 1 through 5.
Pros: Leading trips and being outside all the time! Sounds like a great organization. Just basic Spanish skills required. Three-month minimum still leaves an extra month for language school and/or travel. Room (and board?) likely included.
Cons: I’m not sure about the idea of spending so much of my time in Guatemala with US and European tourists.
2. El Nahual: Four projects with volunteer opportunities: a free school for children, a women’s agricultural project, English teaching for young adults/adults, and fundraising bicycle trips.
Pros: Working with kids! Lots of different opportunities, which it appears could be combined or paired with language school (run by the same organization). Just basic Spanish required, and a short minimum commitment (one month or less).
Cons: Hmm, I like the sound of this one, and the flexibility of the commitment. But it looks like room and board are not covered. And it’s a newer organization, so it may not be as well-organized.
3. Comunidad Nueva Alianza: Cooperative plantation run by 40 Guatemalan families. Volunteer work includes farming, eco-tourism, building renovation and community services.
Pros: Looks like a wonderful community, housing is right there, no minimum Spanish requirement.
Cons: Pay-to-volunteer, could be somewhat isolated. Would it work for Lacey to live there if she does something else?
4. Elly’s Kids Foundation: Provides free education for local children.
Pros: Working with kids! Just a six-week minimum and only basic Spanish required.
Cons: Not much information online, so I’ll have to find out more.
5. Educacion Para Todos: This language school advertises connections to lots of well-established volunteer opportunities.
Pros: A one-stop solution?
Cons: Are they just trying to sell their language school?
6. Casa Xelaju: Language school also advertises connections to several volunteer opportunities and the ability to set things up in a smooth way.
Pros: Again, a connection between the language school and volunteering could make the whole experience smoother.
Cons: Placement fee, although maybe other places just don’t advertise theirs? Also, unclear if intermediate/advanced Spanish is required for all volunteering, or just certain opportunities.
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UPDATE!
I have since contacted the first two organizations on this list. Read about it in this post.
Snowy morning canyon (before we start up!).
More morning snow and clouds.
A side canyon ‘window,’ looking back down on the way up.
Stunning views on our West Rim ski trip.
Snowy Juniper (thanks, Lacey).
Another cool tree . . .
. . . with a view.
A West Rim panorama.
Another West Rim panorama.
Skiing Zion Canyon’s West Rim - hooray for the self-timer!
Lacey on the cliff-hugging trail.
Ice on the way down!
Interesting formation, with icicles.
It was on the flight back from our 5-day trip to Utah that I cracked “Living Abroad in China” from Moon Guides. The Utah trip was a pricey birthday present for my adventurous girlfriend, the kind of woman who would have looked confused and possibly cheated if presented with one of those long, thin jewelry boxes that make TV models fling their arms around their fake husbands. Instead, we had just left Zion Canyon, where we spent sub-zero nights camped on the unspeakably beautiful West Rim, cross-country skiing in dry Western powder and burning through gas canisters to keep the hot chocolate flowing.
Camping on snow at -5 degrees Fahrenheit does some of the same things to your relationship that it does to your body, jarring it with the cold reality of survival. Lacey and I had 18 months of relating under our belts, 
but on that first cold morning our frosty demons crawled right out of our sleeping bags with us, Lacey needing coffee that our gas canister wasn’t up to (frozen, forgot to sleep with it), and me ignoring my body’s rumbles for blood sugar while I tried to get the water pump working (also frozen, slept with it unsuccessfully). Most of all we needed the sense of physical security that our malfunctioning equipment and bodies were denying us.
In under 20 minutes we went through a full-cycle argument: mounting expressions of discomfort and anxiety, tentative “friendly” suggestions, snappy retorts, bitter replies, the subject of turning back before our trip was finished, and finally, alternating haughty trips to the “bathroom,” an 8-inch hole dug under the snow 30 cold steps from our tent. Finally, we got a newer gas canister working. With its comforting hiss our good humor gradually reasserted itself: the demons warmed up and crawled back into hiding, leaving us grinning, foolishly, as we stood facing each other and sipping warm drinks in the sun behind our tent.
Our decision to stay out on the rim was rewarded with one of the most gorgeous days I have ever seen, all sunshine and snow and red canyon walls descending in every direction. Our conversations that day covered two basic topics, how lucky we were and how you had to ski over here quick to see this new view that might actually be more jaw-dropping than the one we just left. 
It ended with hot cocoa and brandy and a noisy game of cookpot Yahtzee, after which we fell asleep to a little inter-sleeping-bag snuggling (think Marshmallow Man and Michelin Woman trying to get cozy as they doze off).
Two days later, flying back to Philadelphia, Lacey thumbed through her worn (and long overdue) library copy of Lonely Planet Guatemala, while I began the early chapters of “Living Abroad in China.” Our plan is to spend August-December 2007 volunteering in Guatemala, return for the holidays, and then head back out to China in January 2008, where we hope to earn a living teaching English. I will stay in China at least through the Olympics, while Lacey may need to leave earlier to begin grad school. The whole plan doesn’t quite seem real. But while the guidebooks are a start, our grins on that first cold morning on Zion’s West Rim might just be the key to our survival.
Check out more Zion photos!
Next post: A series of descriptions and links to volunteer opportunities in Guatamela, with registered users getting to “vote” via comments on which opportunities sound the most interesting and mutually rewarding!