Friend's wife graduates, qualifies as teacher

SOLOLÁ — My friend Chepe’s wife graduated today from Solola’s bilingual teacher’s college, and I got to attend the ceremony along with about 1,000 Mayans and one “gringa.”

Chepe’s wife was one of 51 students to complete her teacher’s education this year at the school, Centro Educativo Comunitario Maya Tijob’äl Tz’olojyá Tijoxelá Paka’i’ Chab’al. (I would get worn out just trying to remember the school’s name.) The school sits about a 5-minute bus ride above Sololá. Graduating was a great accomplishment for Isabel and for Chepe, who sacrificially supported his wife in every way he could.

Chepe and Isabel and their four children live on a very modest income, barely enough to scrape by here. Paying for books, tuition and emergency medical care or pills for their kids all require sacrifice. Along the way, some family members reportedly helped them out.

One day, I hope to tell more of Chepe’s story here. He is a gentle warrior who learned gracefully through a school of incredibly hard knocks to overcome ... and to trust God with his life.

Part-way through her schooling this year, Isabel gave birth to their fourth child, who has medical challenges. Many times, they have had to take their baby to the local hospital or to one in Guatemala City for examinations because of his heart condition.

Chepe was so happy a couple of weeks ago, when he told me his wife had passed all her tests. He said his friends kept asking him, “How did you guys manage?” “How did you afford it?” He always said, “God helped us.”

The graduation ceremony lasted about two or three hours with many, many speeches and congratulations. At least one pastor spoke, invoking God’s blessing on the newly trained teachers. One professor referred to the Mayan religious book, “Popul Vuh.” It was interesting to see the students dressed in their traditional finery. The men wore intriciately designed jackets, and the women wore large, bright ribbons woven into their braids and brilliantly colored huipiles, the patterns indicating their hometown (some from as far away as Tecpán or Chimaltenango — an hour or more away).

Later, at a special luncheon attended by Isabel’s large family at her parents’ home, an uncle, also mentioned the Bible and the Popul Vuh’s teaching, saying that their ancestors were present but invisible at our luncheon.

Afterward, Sarah, my Viña co-worker (the “gringa”), immersed herself in some intense Kaqchikel language learning with Isabel’s uncle and other family members. I didn’t catch much of that, but I spoke with a few of Isabel’s brothers and other relatives. One of her brothers is director over a group of literacy teachers. I think he said he oversees about 25 groups of 15 to 20 students, meeting in homes. Most of the students are Kaqchikel women who are learning to read and write their own language and Spanish.

Isabel’s mother has a beautiful flower garden, where we snapped lots of photos of Isabel and her family members. Sarah wrapped up the day, receiving a lesson on how to use the backstrap loom. Isabel’s family seemed to enjoy watching the lesson almost as much as Sarah enjoyed learning.