Three Generations of Mother's Having Their Day

Home Sweet Home

After the heartbreak of discovering that the family had been deceived so horribly, I woke up Sunday and decided God and I needed to regroup. I attend Sagebrush Church on the island and so many of my dear friends and female prayer warriors are at the core of this parish. Kara, Lydia, Elvi, Merla, and Sabrina (and their families) are my confidants, my cheerleaders,  my supporters and my inspiration. Not only were these women vigilant in reassuring me that they were ready to actively support me, the service's message was amazing. It was exactly the words I needed to hear.

The rest of the day I spent in and on the water. I was baptized Presbyterian. I have been an active congregant of the Lutheran denomination since I was 10. Twenty-two of my 26  years of teaching were in Christian education (love those Catholics and Baptists).  I have used the phrase, "It's a God thing" most of my life to define the people, situations and even art that I have been blessed to be in the cross hairs. However, it has always been on, in, under and around water where I feel God the most. From my childhood summers on Ottertail Lake, to my friend Janell's Lake Herman Cabin to the Caribbean Sea, my Christian spirit has always been strongest and happiest with water. Sunday I  - literally - needed the hope of baptism in that beautiful, blue ocean.

Snorkeling is my quiet time with God. For over 3 hours, I heard only my deliberate breath, rhythmically move me from one God thing (an eagle ray) to another (an almost transparent jelly fish). A nurse shark developed a curiosity (or as I would like to think - a crush) and followed me most of the afternoon. A trigger fish, an angel fish over a foot high and an entire school of squid were just three of my new discoveries on this dive. However, it was the light of the Belizean afternoon that really spoke to me. There was the strong western light that permeated the turquoise, and - inexplicably - another strong eastern light piercing the water.  I was being told to "just keep swimming" through this crucifix of light.  Like a water kaleidoscope or a maritime stained glass window, this light was a crucible of prayer and the silent power of God.

I have always known that I need water to be healthy, happy and creative. Now I know I need it to breathe life.

When I woke up on Monday morning, I warned the Devil that he should be thinking, "Crap, she is up." I was a blonde with a mission and a plan.

For the next part, I am going to make the long story as short as possible. I rode my bike all over the DFC neighborhood (the area close to the kid's school). I found a few - very small spaces - that would be a healthier option to my family's current situation.

Just to make it clear, my family of 6 was living in a 14 x 8 feet room built on garbage and feces. They have lived there for 8 years. There is no bathroom but instead a bucket. They share an outdoor shower with all the others on the "compound." There is a lot more detail of these women, their families, their plight and their environment.  If you ever want the whole picture, please ask me. They have been cared for by an old Belizean fisherman, who is the patriarch of one of the oldestand wonderful families on the island.  He truly cares for these women and their children. Unfortunately, the area also draws deviation on every level,

Back in DFC, I found a couple of options. From there, my superhero friend Cara loaned me her cart. Esperanza (the mom) and I picked up another friend of mine Merla and headed to down. Merla was a great addition. Not only could she translate, but she could address Esperanza as another Belizian mom.  I had given her prompts about our roles as mothers - we do what we must do to make sure our children are healthy, happy and safe.  However, after living in the same place so for many years and not having to worry about paying for housing and food because of her physical commitment, Esperanza was scared.

She decided on a rat trap. I negotiated the price based on the fact that 30 hours from that moment, the space would be totally cleaned and refurbished, and I would pay cash for the first 2 months.

The next morning, Esperanza went to court to confirm the restraining order against the father of her youngest child (we started that process the week before), and I went to work. I showed up at the house with a gallon of paint, a bucket, a hammer,  Ajax and the will to work. Around 9 am, a local man showed up at the house on his motorcycle. Kyle and Cara had sent him (and another employee) to help me for the day - their wages had been paid. It's was a God thing.

In 50 years of life, I have never worked physically harder. While the guys built a new porch, I rid "the yard" of years of garbage. Old, soiled diapers, bags full of food, and broken bottles were just some of the the things I could identify.  We could hear the rats and patched over 50 holes in the walls. The dirt/spider webs hung from the ceiling like Tim Burton movie vines. The bathroom required an acid wash in which I had to wear goggles and a breathing apparatus.

Then, we painted.  After Esperanza bravely attended court to activate the restraining order, she came to her new home.  She was a trooper. We painted and painted and painted.

Around 8 pm, their items from the compound showed up in a truck. My sweet, 14 year old Erick directed the entire move from the other end.  I don't know what you were all doing at 14, but I was not even curling my own hair in the morning. They didn't have much other than some clothes, a small stove, a dorm fridge and a some bike parts.

Around 10 pm, we began laying the new floor.  The children were exhausted. One by one, they took a shower in their first ever bathroom. In the chaos of luggage, they found pjs. For the second time that day, I fought back tears.

The first? When the kids got out of school, they were instructed by Principal Migel to go to their "new house."  I would lie if I said the children coming home was helpful.  They just wanted to explore and play.

I was taking a break and sitting on a log in the yard, drinking another liter of water. Eight year old Moises had just scouted out the work on the house. Without a word, he plopped down next to me on the log. There we sat, looking at the garbage free yard and new porch.  The smell of paint, bleach and acid oozed from the front door. He then stood up, looked at me and kissed me on the cheek. He sat back down  - a little closer - and put his hand on my leg. We just sat there holding hands silently for a long, lovely time. I don't know who loves who more. His ability to say thank you - without one word - was truer than I have ever experienced.

Other amazing moments - Principal Migel stopped by the house on his way home from school to congratulate the family on their beautiful new home (that is a great educator). Some of my friends on the island sent a table, rugs, bed sheets, curtains and even art to make the house a home.  The laughter Esperanza and I shared throughout the day as we cleaned and painted - she with no English and me with no Spanish - was rich. Miss Elvi stopped by to welcome this new family to her neighborhood - meeting an treating Esperanza like any other working mother of the 21st Century; it was a lesson in grace.

When I left around 11:30 pm, this family had a home. I rode my bike slowly back to town with my hammer and bucket. A shower had never felt better. The prayers on my pillow morphed from "Help Me" to "Thank You."  I will never clean the blue paint off my flip flops, as it is the color of new beginnings.

My flight the next morning was a 9 am. I rode my bike back down to their new home around 7:30. I do have this on video and hope to share it soon, but when the door opened, Nardo jumped on me yelling, "Miss Kim!" like he had not seen me in years. Moises said simply, "It's so pretty." They were dressed in their school uniforms and ready to walk the 3 blocks to school. All were well rested and safe.

There is a God, a Father and a Holy Spirit. Frankly, they all exhaust me, but in the most amazing way.  If you have not had a conversation with one of them lately, you just need to listen.  I promise, they have something to say to you that will change your life.

If you would like to know what you can do to help this family or any of the other children that I work with in Belize, I am not shy to tell you how. My cell is 376-8440 and my email is Kim.creativeconsulting@gmail.com.

Too Many Streets Smarts is Not a Good Thing

I have seen Christian selling jewelry on the beach the last 3 years. He is the man of a family and primary money maker as he is the "face" of their jewelry selling business. I have observed his grandma, mom and aunt wait for him at his school at noon in order to make him work the beach during his lunch hour.  Since arriving on the island, he has a new "pitch." He has memorized, "Hey, sexy lady would you like to buy some jewelry? A beach sandal will make your foot look sexy." It is by rote, and more than disturbing coming out of a 7 year old's mouth.

The 3rd time he approached me and recited his spiel, I was done. I made him sit down and told him that the tourists do not want to hear "Sexy Lady."  Instead, I told him that if he just said, "Hi, my name is Christian, and I am 7 would you like to buy some of my jewelry?" people would be more apt to buy his wares. I know I cannot stop his families' exploitation, but I will do my best to stop the tourists'.  Next, I had his mother and grandmother sit with me, and I tried to explain the same thing to them. They assured me that most women found it "cute." My last tactic was to threaten contacting the authorities   if it continued. It was said more to scare Christian as the women in his life are beyond teaching ethical practices.

Please keep little Christian in your thoughts and prayers. He is a sweet, little boy. All children should be allowed to be just that - children.

Red, Yellow, Black and White; They are Precious in His Sight

"Jesus loves the little children, all the little children of the world. Red, yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world."

The Seventh Day Adventist 11 am service was just beginning, and these were the words spilling out their open doors onto the beach. I have now been singing it for an hour as I stroll the white sand and take in the sun that has been missing all week on the island.

Earlier this morning, I had to grab a taxi to help haul my laundry into town.  I enjoy my time with the local taxi drivers. Each ride provides a story. Historical Belizean facts, political tirades, and radio sing-a-longs have been at the most informative and at the least entertaining. However, it doesn't seem to matter if I am going 5 or 15 minutes, I always get their story. Many times, their wives are riding along, but rarely do they offer extra commentary.

In the last 24 hours. I have had to take a taxi 3 times. I learned the history of the student $1 cab fair. The taxi drivers are all committed to picking students up who are walking far north and south of San Pedro town to their perspective schools and cannot ask for any more than $1 (.50 us). I won't offer all the details, but this particular driver was very proud of his involvement in making this service a reality for "all the little children of world."

Driver Horatio and his wife were quite curious about me. It seems they have seen me numerous times with a variety of children "red, yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight." When I asked them if they had children, Horatio responded, "No, but we would love one. Do want to give us one of your's?"  He was teasing, but the sadness in his voice real. He then reached over and touched his wife's hand. This couple was beyond its years in the hope for children. The fact that some have more than they can care for and other's ask for so little is an universal unfairness. I assured him that the children that they see with me are claimed and loved locally, but that my 23 year old son in the States was up for grabs. They smiled politely at this old joke.

Dionicio is a taxi driver who has been working on the island for 14  years. He has three children (the oldest is a freshman in high school) who all live on the mainland with his mother. He told me that they had spent their Christmas vacation on Ambergris Caye, and it was difficult to send them back. However, it is too expensive to live and go to school here. Then, with a little chuckle added, "I need to find them a new mom, before I could move them here."

I asked where their mother was. She left years ago and has a new life in the north corner of the country. We drove about a minute before the feminist in me went out the van window. I confessed, "I don't know - as a mother - how I could just leave 3 of my children to begin a whole new life." Dionisio just said, "I don't ever say anything bad about her. It is difficult enough for them to not have her in their lives. I does no good if I say vexed things about her." He went on to say, that as parents we have the responsibility to look at all the good so to teach our children to do the same. Also, we must do whatever possible to provide God, love and security in their lives. "Jesus loves the little children of the world."

Ode to Eva

Eva Mary Bartling entered the world at 1:30 am on 1/4/14 at Avera McKennan Hospital. She was 5 lbs 14 oz. I missed it.

The night was a telephone blur. My sister. My son. Tears. My Mom. Tears. My Sister again. I started packing. Tears. Mary Bunkers. Dick. Tears. The baby is born. Tyler can only say, "She is so cute and so small" over and over. Katie. She is the first to call me, "Grandma." I say, "Kate, you promised me that you wouldn't have her early."  Tears. 

Five days later, I am resolved to stay in Belize until my 23rd departure date.  I have been told again and again, "Those babies there need you too. Eva will be waiting to be loved on upon your return." This is true but hard. I rarely miss major family events. I have never not been on the sideline of my son's milestones. I missed this. 

My sister appealed to my Schetnan sensibilities. "This will be a great story to tell her, and we Schetnan's love a good story." This is true. Her birth will always be told with a level of urgency and fear - love and relief....and Grandma Bartling was in Belize.

The reality is that Eva will always know - from day one - a true fact. Grandma Kim is rarely home.  Great Grandpa Syl would have been so proud of Eva's birth and so mad at Grandma Kim. "Raised 2 daughters with wheels on their feet and wings on their asses. This time it cost her."  I can hear his voice in my ear. 

It is true.  I will never be able to tell Eva what she looked like at an hour, a day, or a week. I ache knowing I lost two weeks of rocking her in NICU.  I could be sending my own pics to family and friends instead of relying of pics being sent to me via texts and FB. I long to hear her noises and smell her scalp.

Instead, I hear the changed voice of my son. On Sunday he said, "Mom, I don't know how to explain it, but I am different."  He didn't need to tell  me that. I could hear it. The rate and pitch of his voice was familiar but new. He spoke to me not as my son, but as Eva's father. "I know I am partial, but she is the most beautiful baby I have ever seen." I have spoken to him daily and our conversations have never been richer - full of real words and articulated emotions.

Since Eva's birth, I have hugged more children then I can count. I've taught spelling and reading. I've checked homework.  Uniform shopping has been done. A couple of kids have hopped on my bike and rode to school with me.  I've cuddled, taught dance, learned a new "knock knock" joke and ran interference between angry parents and their spirited child. I am just honing my grandma skills as these are all things I expect to do with Eva. 

I hope she will always have a heart of grace for her grandma who is always late.  I promise to eventually show up, twirling a baton and singing the newest Top 40 song.  I promise to take her to get her first passport. I promise to love her unconditionally as I show her the real conditions in the rest of the world. I promise to be her confidant, her librarian, her stylist and her devil's advocate.

Like my children in Belize, I know that she will change me more that I could ever offer her. I am - humbly - Eva Mary's grandma. 

Miss Kim

"Miss Kim" could be two of my favorite words strung together. Since arriving on the island, it has been the melody to which I have walked and biked. Since the kids are on holiday break, they are around every corner and upon getting a glimpse of me, shout, "Miss Kim!"

The first of "my kids" I eye-spy was Ivo. He was across town from his home in a kiosk buying a piece of candy. Before he owned his embarrassment, he hugged me. We fall into our normal pattern as we walk San Pedro Town to home. No one at his house knew where he had been. This barefoot and filthy 9 year old boy, is the epitome of "street kid."

On New Year's, it was a chorus of "Miss Kim's" as my Holy Cross students see me across Central Park. The girls look so grown up in their celebration clothes.  The boys are awkward with their pimped-up bicycles and pimples. I don't want to wish the years away, but I wonder what it will look like ten years from now, when they have their own families and - hopefully - careers.

Unfortunately, there are those moments where being "Miss Kim" is just...hard. Today, on the second day of school, I again saw Ivo in the street. Yesterday, I made him walk me back to his home when I found him running the streets and not in school.  He told me - and his father confirmed - that he did not attend the first day as his uniform was not clean. I don't like being "Miss Kim" the teacher/disciplinarian/truant officer to parents. Today, I made the difficult decision to no longer finance Ivo's education. I have never given up on a student - child, and I will continue to be a friend to the Gotoy Family, but it is clear that education is not a priority.

Also, today, Miss Kim served as representation for 12 year old Jose, who was arrested this weekend. I have watched Jose work his way out of 2 schools in the last 2 years. I have heard the whisperings of certain episodes of which he has been linked. Despite all of this, I have never experienced anything but respect from this child.  Today, while waiting for the magistrate, I took him outside and reminded him that he should be scared beyond words. I told him that there is a not a thief, crook and/or drug dealer in his heart and soul, but a man of God waiting to grow. Out of nowhere, I began to cry. Jose just hugged me and hugged me and hugged me. This is a little boy. This is a little boy who has not been hugged or has heard a kind word in years. Yet, he did not hesitate to show love and appreciation to the one person who showed up in his tough world today. Because of this, I am taking him to another school tomorrow. He is worth the "3rd time is the charm" risk. Pray for Jose.

Miss Kim's day ended exactly the way it should. I headed down to a school to check in on the 3 siblings that I introduced to the world of education last April. They are doing great! I met with the principal, vice-principal, and all three teachers. These children are loved and celebrated.

While I waited for upper classrooms to dismiss, a small group of 6 year old boys were sitting at a palapa table. I asked if they would like me to read them a book as they waited for their older siblings.  I had "A Cat in the Hat" in my bag. I started with an audience of 4, I ended with 12. Also, they made me promise that I would come back with another story by the end of the week. Miss Kim is big with 6 year old boys.

The day ended in the 8' x 16' home of Erick, Nayeli and Moises.  I brought them a huge bag of clothes and a small toy for each too - a late Christmas. We worked on spelling, reading, math, and geography. This small room is home to 5 children, their mother and the latest man. In one corner was a 2 burner stove with dinner cooking. The bucket in the middle of the room is the toilet. There is one bed, one fridge, two languages and oodles of laughter and love. The words, "Miss Kim" are interrupted with "Miss Kim" as each child wants me to check their work or show me a trick. Miss Kim is exhausted but blessed.

Faces in Which to Fall in Love!

Check out Nardo's Central Baptist t-shirt! The children in the first photo are some of Holy Cross finest - I love the look on Denzel's face who is front and center!