Un Paseo por Antigua (A Walk through Antigua)

Eric and the girls are in language school, but I have the morning off so I’m going to do some shopping. My destination is La Bodegona, the only supermercado in Antigua. It’s located on the other side of the city, but Antigua is quite small so it should only take me 15 minutes to walk there.

I exit our AirBnB’s front door and cross a small courtyard to an orange metal door. Eric and I chose this AirBnB because it was reasonably-priced and appeared, from an online map of Antigua, to be close to our language school. As a matter of fact, this particular casita is actually attached to our language school. Passing through the orange door, then, I walk right by Kiara, hard at work studying Spanish with her teacher. I see Eric and Adelina with their teachers as well, but I hurry past, lest Adelina see me and become distracted.

Cobblestone Street

Cobblestone street in Antigua

Outside, I cross a one-way cobblestone street, careful to time my crossing with a break in the stream of cars, motorcycles, and tuk tuks that traverse the city. Since there are no crosswalks, it’s best to dart across the street mid-block; that way, the vehicles are only coming from one direction. If this were a family outing, Eric and I would insist on holding the girls’ hands and keeping ourselves in between them and the traffic. Alone, I’m able to move more quickly through the city.

Antigua, the one-time capital of Guatemala, is built on a grid so – calle por calle (street by street) – I make my way steadily northwest. I pass by Iglesia San Pedro, where Eric and I attend Mass on Sundays. Although Kiara and Adelina understand very little Spanish, they do a good job of sitting still during Mass, enticed as they are by the promise of earning helado (ice cream) in exchange for good behavior. (Eric and I are not above parental bribery.)

Iglesia San Pedro

Iglesia San Pedro

Attached to the church is a hospital where physicians (mostly from Canada and the U.S.) volunteer their time with clinics and surgeries. The public hospitals have all been closed since before we arrived, the doctors and nurses on strike due to poor conditions in the hospitals. Antigua is a thriving, bustling city with every amenity we could want (WiFi, hot water, a sports pub for Eric to watch Notre Dame beat Michigan), but the reality of Guatemalan poverty is never very far.

Walking through the Parque Central, I make an easy target for the many indigenous peddlers vending their goods. They sell everything from drinking water in plastic baggies to Guatemalan instruments to selfie sticks. Women, dressed in gorgeous bright traditional clothes, show me woven bags and purses while swaying their babies in colorful slings. I smile broadly, but I’m firm: “No, gracias. No hoy.” (No, thank you. Not today.) Eric and I try to buy from these peddlers whenever we can. We see them carrying their heavy loads, often from villages miles away, working tirelessly to eke out a living in a country where nearly 60% of people live in poverty. If I want to buy a pelota (ball) for the girls, I might as well buy it from the man carrying dozens of them on his back.


Vendors in the Parque Central – I bought the rainbow shawl

In the distance, the Volcán Pacaya looms large, one of several volcanos visible from Antigua. Last weekend, our family hiked Pacaya, taking in its breathtaking views and roasting marshmallows in its active lava river. Tourism is among the strongest economic drivers of Antigua, with travel agencies all around the city advertising (in English) their many excursions. We were happy to take part; as I told Kiara and Adelina during our descent from the volcano, “I don’t think there will ever come a time when that doesn’t rank among our coolest life experiences!”

Volcán Pacaya

Volcán Pacaya

Just a few more blocks to go. I pass by the many tiendas (shops) that line the street. The city of Antigua is designated as an official Unesco world heritage city, so all buildings must adhere to certain aesthetic regulations. Thus, the Taco Bell and Dunkin’ Donuts blend quite seamlessly with the city’s many colonial churches and courtyards.

I nod to a street preacher, whose dedication I admire (if not necessarily his message): he has been here each and every time I’ve walked to La Bodegona, holding his Santa Biblia and admonishing passersby for their spiritual indolence. Antigua is a very Catholic city, but – as it is throughout Latin America – evangelical Christianity is growing here.


Colonial arches near Iglesia San Pedro

Finally, I arrive. La Bodegona employs far more people than an average U.S. grocery store. Dozens of employees stand at the end of aisles, smiling and encouraging me to try a free sample: of fruit, of soy milk, of rum, of cheese. There are ofertas especiales (special offers) advertised on neon placards throughout the store: Buy this bag of refried beans and you’ll receive a packet of salsa verde (conveniently taped to the side of the beans) for free! The first time I shopped here, I was hungry and exhausted and I found the whole store to be somewhat overwhelming. Today, I know exactly what I’m looking for and where to find it.

I make my purchases – socks for Kiara and leche en polvo (powdered milk) for our family’s breakfast cereal – mentally converting the quetzales I’m spending into dollars. I’m grateful that I finally remembered to bring my own bag and I won’t have to buy one. It is curious to me that the store has so many employees distributing free samples, but nobody helping customers to bag their groceries.

Despite the early hour, the sun is already high in the sky as I make my way back home through the city. I hug the side of buildings in an attempt to stay in the shade, vowing to wear my hat next time… and to never take for granted these incredible moments and memories in Guatemala.

Arco Santa Clarita

Arco de Santa Catalina in Antigua

The Things We Carried

We’ve arrived safely in Antigua, Guatemala, where Eric and the girls will spend 6 weeks in intensive language school and I will volunteer with a partner organization. Fresh off the plane/van ride to Antigua, I couldn’t stop thinking about this trip in terms of our stuff. This blog post is an homage to Tim O’Brien’s phenomenal book about the Vietnam War (which I highly recommend if you haven’t yet read it).

We carried everything we thought we should bring for 2.5 years in Central America.

We carried too much, of course. We knew it when we had to redistribute stuff in our checked baggage to remain under the 50 lb weight limit, and we really knew it when we lined up all of our bags on the sidewalk together.



We carried plenty of clothes, but not as many as you might think from glimpsing our bags.

We carried a suitcase filled entirely with prescription medications (mostly asthma medication for Kiara), which I worried might be stopped at customs but which breezed right through.

We carried just one Spanish language Bible to be shared by the four of us, because we procrastinated too long in placing our Amazon order.

We carried my expensive face cream, because -at 33 years old- I am battling both acne and wrinkles, and that just seems unfair.

We carried stuffies, blankies, and “Frozen” jammies, because they make the girls feel safer.

We carried a pharmacy’s worth of vitamins, because they make me feel safer.

We carried my old iPhone 4, which seems impossibly slow and outdated but which provides easier communication than we ever used to imagine was possible.

We carried The Hobbit, because Bilbo’s voyage makes our own seem a little bit less intimidating.

We carried two large bottles of my favorite sunscreen, but we didn’t carry them far, because I accidentally packed them in my carry-on and they were confiscated at airport security.

We carried the anticipation of adventure and the anxiety of struggles yet-unknown.

We carried profound gratitude for everyone who donated to our mission fund and made this journey possible.

And we carried love… for each other, for all of you, and for God who called us to this work and who we know will sustain us throughout our mission.

Why us? Why now? Why this mission?

All very valid questions!

In fact, Eric and I have been asking and discerning precisely these questions for several years now. The short and sweet answer to all of them is (of course) that this is what we feel God is calling us to do. But here’s a closer look at how we came to hear and accept that call:

Why Us?

We don’t think Jesus was kidding when He talked about the need to commit ourselves in a real and tangible way to “the least of these.” (Matthew 25:40)  And although there are infinite paths of living out this vocation of service to the poor, we have always felt drawn to international mission work.

During and after university, Eric and I individually spent time volunteering in developing countries – he in Brazil, I in Uganda and Ecuador. These experiences were foundational in our faith formation and global perspectives, and we have longed to share a similar experience together as a family. The question soon became not “Why us?” but rather “Why not us?”

Eventually, we ran out of responses.

Why Now?

Having felt called to international mission work for years, Eric and I were fairly open regarding the specific timeline for our departure. Our decision to go now has more to do with our children than ourselves. This seems like the perfect season in our daughters’ lives for a big adventure and life transition. Kiara and Adelina will be seven and five when we arrive in Honduras – young enough to adapt to change and learn Spanish, but old enough to remember and be shaped by the experience (we hope!).

Why this mission?

Eric and I began discerning what sort of mission work we would like to do several years ago. A faith-based program was of primary importance to both of us, and obviously we needed to find someplace that accommodates families with children.

Finca Games

Children playing at the Finca del Niño

I had strongly considered volunteering at the Finca del Niño (Farm of the Child) after I graduated from Notre Dame. At the time, however, I was newly in love with Eric and I couldn’t bring myself to spend 2.5 years away from him. Years later, while researching missionary opportunities, the Finca immediately jumped out at us. Eric and I started communicating with board members and former missionaries, and – through those conversations, many late nights reading about and discussing the Finca, and lots of prayer – we discerned our calling there.

The four pillars of missionary life at the Finca del Niño are community, spirituality, service, and simplicity. These pillars resonate deeply with us, as they encapsulate the values we believe Jesus lived out – the values around which we wish to orient our lives.

We love the mission statement of the Finca. We love the things we’ve heard from former missionaries about the Finca. Most of all, we love the feeling we get when we envision our life at the Finca: a feeling of peace that surpasses understanding.

Are you interested in supporting our family’s mission? Go to the Support tab above for more information, or click here to make a tax-deductible donation to our mission fund.