Last Sunday I flew home from a week-long trip to Guatemala with inspiring rabbinic colleagues and the wonderful staff of American Jewish World Service (AJWS).
We spent time in three cities - Guatemala City, Quetzaltenango and Antigua - meeting with leaders of organizations that AJWS supports. Organizations that are fighting for women’s rights, for freedom of expression, for land rights.
I'd like to share some of my impressions from the trip and then to focus on what several people I met taught me about listening.
First some impressions.
Guatemala is a gorgeous place. As our plane was preparing to land in Guatemala City, I was struck by the many tall, lush mountains. We didn’t get to the ocean but I’ve heard that the coastlines are also beautiful. When we traveled from place to place we got to see several of the nearly 50 volcanoes, a handful of which are still active. In Antigua we stayed on a coffee plantation, also extremely lush and surrounded by mountains.
It’s an impoverished place. There is great wealth, but it’s concentrated in the hands of a tiny few. Many of the roads are lined with very modest homes and stores.
It’s a tragic place. Marked by centuries of conflict, the persecution of the indigenous people by the European conquerers, exploitation by foreign companies including American companies. There have been genocides throughout Guatemala’s history, including quite recently. I’ll say more about that later.
It’s also marked by ingenuity and resilience.
Ingenuity. The US has sent hundreds of used school buses to central American countries including Guatemala, buses that the US deemed no longer so useful. In Guatemala, the buses are picked up by private individuals, totally remodeled. Given new engines and painted bright, amazing designs and colors. They are nicknamed "chicken buses" and they are a major, inexpensive, fast, slightly risky source of transportation in Guatemala.
And resilience. Again and again we met people who risk their safety and well-being to advocate for their rights and the rights of others.
What was the purpose of the trip?
To let us see and hear first-hand how AJWS supports the human rights initiatives of several local groups. We met a group of lawyers defending people’s rights, including the rights of a Mayan community to have a say in how their land is being developed. A group of women who are advocating for women’s participation in local governance. A group of midwives providing healthcare to women who are often snubbed by local hospitals.
Before I left, when I was talking to our congregation about my anticipation of the trip, I spoke about the importance of listening. How I was looking forward to meeting and listening to people and hopefully learning something from what they share.
Now that I’m back, having heard a great deal, I'm even more convinced of the importance of listening. In fact, I want to reflect further on how we should (and should not) listen to each other. To illustrate the point, I want to describe two people whom we met and how each helped me learn how to listen.
The first is a midwife and healer named Maria.
A little background. After we spent a few days in Guatemala City, we drove to Quetzaltenango. OK - the bus broke down, we waited in the middle of the highway for half an hour for someone to come with a spare part, the part didn’t work, we waited for another 45 minutes. By this time, we had developed a lot of group spirit.
In Quetzaltenango we met with a group of midwives at their center, a place where women come for checkups and to give birth.
Their goals are to educate the mostly indigenous women they serve in proper self-care and to provide for their health needs. In several villages they work with the local hospitals so that they are integrating their services into the medical services provided by the hospitals. But in other locations, including in Quetzaltenango itself, the hospitals do not partner with the midwives and many local women don’t have consistent prenatal care other than through what the midwives provide.
After we heard from a group of midwives and toured the center, a small group of us set out to visit Maria, who lives in a neighborhood a few miles from downtown.
She described herself as a midwife and a healer. She described how her husband was gravely ill and she had a dream about grass, how (upon waking) she prepared a remedy for him from nearby grasses and how he then slowly began to recover. She spoke of how well she knows the people who come to her for healing. She told us that she has used herbs to treat diabetes.
She gave one of my colleagues a checkup and confirmed that she’s not pregnant and that her blood pressure is good. When asked what she does to help women deal with the pain of childbirth, she described how she brings calla lillies into the room, not to remove the pain, but to distract from the pain with the beautiful fragrance.
While listening to her, I was aware that I started to think of ways that her healing sounded curious to me or even unsophisticated. I found myself trying to imagine how it was that a remedy made from the grass surrounding her home brought healing to her husband or if in fact a woman struggling with the pain of childbirth would be appreciably helped by the smell of lilies.
But I said to myself - as part of my ongoing dialogue with myself that I guess we all have when we’re listening to other people - just listen. Listen with your mind and your heart.
I am no expert by any means in the value of herbal remedies and I know nothing about the pain of childbirth. But when I allowed my mind and heart to listen simultaneously, I found myself thinking about how much she uses intuition in healing. Intuition about the person, about the moment, about the fragrance, about the surroundings.
And later I thought about what she had told us, and what she showed us, in a Jewish context. When we pray for healing, we pray for רפואת הנפש refua’t hanefesh - healing of the spirit - and רפואת הגוף refu’at haguf - healing of the body.
I thought of the ways in which this woman’s approach to healing is similar to the holistic approach that Jews take, as reflected in our prayers.
Turning off the “judgment” switch when we listen is not so easy. But it’s important. To try to listen to someone with our minds and our hearts without rushing to judge or criticize. It helps us begin to understand someone else, to understand what it is that they’re saying, what it is that they’re doing, what it is that they bring to the world, what it is that they need.
Second person. When we arrived in Antigua, we met with the person who is going to be taking over the local AJWS coordinator position. Like the person who is currently doing that job, whose name is Megan - extremely dedicated and gifted - the person taking over is also native Guatemalan. His name is Edwin.
Edwin told us a little bit about his background. He is indigenous Mayan. He said that his story is painful and he just said briefly that he faced tragedy as a child and then he moved on.
One of my colleagues asked if he would feel comfortable sharing his story in greater detail and then he did.
When he was 6 years old, back in the early 80’s, a group of soldiers, backed by government, approached his family’s village. The villagers escaped with their children to the mountains. The soldiers went up into the mountains. Edwin, as a little boy, was told by some of the adults to run further away, to climb higher into the mountains, which he did.
He came back down the next day and saw that his mother and two of his sisters had been killed. He told us, at first I didn’t understand what had happened. I tried shaking them and calling out to them. I was only a little boy. I didn’t realize it was permanent.
We were sitting and listening. I was emotional as I listened to him. I had the image of this man as a little boy trying to wake up his loved ones and not being able to.
He finished his story.
One of us, I don't remember who, indicated that this sounded similar to stories of the Holocaust that the Jewish people experienced and then went on to say a bit about the Holocaust.
Personally I wished that the person hadn’t done that. Not that the comments were shared with bad intentions. They were shared with the best of intentions. Not that it isn’t important to speak about the holocaust - it is. And not that there isn’t value in sharing experiences - there often is.
But in that moment, it felt more appropriate to sit quietly and to keep listening, even after Edwin was done speaking. To let his words begin to land in our ears, our hearts and our souls.
Sometimes when we listen we rush to judge. And sometimes when we listen we rush to relate.
Both impulses can prevent us from beginning to come to some understanding of what a person has actually said.
Listening - with our minds and hearts - is not easy. But it’s crucial if we are to engage each other in any significant way.
As I said to this congregation before the trip, the process of redemption for the children of Israel, the process whereby we leave Egypt and begin our journey toward the promised land, begins with listening.
וגם אני שמעתי את נאקת בני ישראל V’gam ani shama’ti et na’akat b’nei yisrael. God says, I have now heard the groaning of the children of Israel.
When the Israelites arrive at Sinai, God tells Moses, say to the people - you saw what I did to Egypt, how I carried you on eagle’s wings. And now:
אם שמוע תשמעו בקולי Im shamo’a tishm’u b’kolee
If you listen to my voice, and if you observe my covenant, you will be my treasured people.
If you listen to my voice.
The listening, as it turns out, is overwhelming. Moses has to intercede to dilute the intensity of the sound. And after the listening there will be complaining and criticism and interpretation. What did God mean? What should we do?
But there is that moment, foundational to our establishment as a people, when God asks us to listen.
I will be speaking more about the work that AJWS does in Guatemala and elsewhere and how we can get involved. There’s so much more to say and that’s a great deal to do.
But today, looking back on the week in Guatemala and looking ahead, I "just" want to challenge us to listen. Before we rush to judge, or to say how much we can relate, or to suggest how we might solve or resolve.
I want to challenge us to listen with our minds and our hearts. My trip to Guatemala helped give me a small sense of how to do that. True listening, as our ancestors were taught, is the very beginning of redemption.
Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on February 3, 2018, Parashat Yitro
We spent time in three cities - Guatemala City, Quetzaltenango and Antigua - meeting with leaders of organizations that AJWS supports. Organizations that are fighting for women’s rights, for freedom of expression, for land rights.
First some impressions.
Guatemala is a gorgeous place. As our plane was preparing to land in Guatemala City, I was struck by the many tall, lush mountains. We didn’t get to the ocean but I’ve heard that the coastlines are also beautiful. When we traveled from place to place we got to see several of the nearly 50 volcanoes, a handful of which are still active. In Antigua we stayed on a coffee plantation, also extremely lush and surrounded by mountains.
It’s an impoverished place. There is great wealth, but it’s concentrated in the hands of a tiny few. Many of the roads are lined with very modest homes and stores.
It’s a tragic place. Marked by centuries of conflict, the persecution of the indigenous people by the European conquerers, exploitation by foreign companies including American companies. There have been genocides throughout Guatemala’s history, including quite recently. I’ll say more about that later.
It’s also marked by ingenuity and resilience.
Ingenuity. The US has sent hundreds of used school buses to central American countries including Guatemala, buses that the US deemed no longer so useful. In Guatemala, the buses are picked up by private individuals, totally remodeled. Given new engines and painted bright, amazing designs and colors. They are nicknamed "chicken buses" and they are a major, inexpensive, fast, slightly risky source of transportation in Guatemala.
And resilience. Again and again we met people who risk their safety and well-being to advocate for their rights and the rights of others.
What was the purpose of the trip?
To let us see and hear first-hand how AJWS supports the human rights initiatives of several local groups. We met a group of lawyers defending people’s rights, including the rights of a Mayan community to have a say in how their land is being developed. A group of women who are advocating for women’s participation in local governance. A group of midwives providing healthcare to women who are often snubbed by local hospitals.
Before I left, when I was talking to our congregation about my anticipation of the trip, I spoke about the importance of listening. How I was looking forward to meeting and listening to people and hopefully learning something from what they share.
Now that I’m back, having heard a great deal, I'm even more convinced of the importance of listening. In fact, I want to reflect further on how we should (and should not) listen to each other. To illustrate the point, I want to describe two people whom we met and how each helped me learn how to listen.
The first is a midwife and healer named Maria.
A little background. After we spent a few days in Guatemala City, we drove to Quetzaltenango. OK - the bus broke down, we waited in the middle of the highway for half an hour for someone to come with a spare part, the part didn’t work, we waited for another 45 minutes. By this time, we had developed a lot of group spirit.
In Quetzaltenango we met with a group of midwives at their center, a place where women come for checkups and to give birth.
Their goals are to educate the mostly indigenous women they serve in proper self-care and to provide for their health needs. In several villages they work with the local hospitals so that they are integrating their services into the medical services provided by the hospitals. But in other locations, including in Quetzaltenango itself, the hospitals do not partner with the midwives and many local women don’t have consistent prenatal care other than through what the midwives provide.
After we heard from a group of midwives and toured the center, a small group of us set out to visit Maria, who lives in a neighborhood a few miles from downtown.
She described herself as a midwife and a healer. She described how her husband was gravely ill and she had a dream about grass, how (upon waking) she prepared a remedy for him from nearby grasses and how he then slowly began to recover. She spoke of how well she knows the people who come to her for healing. She told us that she has used herbs to treat diabetes.
She gave one of my colleagues a checkup and confirmed that she’s not pregnant and that her blood pressure is good. When asked what she does to help women deal with the pain of childbirth, she described how she brings calla lillies into the room, not to remove the pain, but to distract from the pain with the beautiful fragrance.
While listening to her, I was aware that I started to think of ways that her healing sounded curious to me or even unsophisticated. I found myself trying to imagine how it was that a remedy made from the grass surrounding her home brought healing to her husband or if in fact a woman struggling with the pain of childbirth would be appreciably helped by the smell of lilies.
But I said to myself - as part of my ongoing dialogue with myself that I guess we all have when we’re listening to other people - just listen. Listen with your mind and your heart.
I am no expert by any means in the value of herbal remedies and I know nothing about the pain of childbirth. But when I allowed my mind and heart to listen simultaneously, I found myself thinking about how much she uses intuition in healing. Intuition about the person, about the moment, about the fragrance, about the surroundings.
And later I thought about what she had told us, and what she showed us, in a Jewish context. When we pray for healing, we pray for רפואת הנפש refua’t hanefesh - healing of the spirit - and רפואת הגוף refu’at haguf - healing of the body.
I thought of the ways in which this woman’s approach to healing is similar to the holistic approach that Jews take, as reflected in our prayers.
Turning off the “judgment” switch when we listen is not so easy. But it’s important. To try to listen to someone with our minds and our hearts without rushing to judge or criticize. It helps us begin to understand someone else, to understand what it is that they’re saying, what it is that they’re doing, what it is that they bring to the world, what it is that they need.
Second person. When we arrived in Antigua, we met with the person who is going to be taking over the local AJWS coordinator position. Like the person who is currently doing that job, whose name is Megan - extremely dedicated and gifted - the person taking over is also native Guatemalan. His name is Edwin.
Edwin Canil, Incoming AJWS Coordinator in Guatemala, sharing his personal story
One of my colleagues asked if he would feel comfortable sharing his story in greater detail and then he did.
When he was 6 years old, back in the early 80’s, a group of soldiers, backed by government, approached his family’s village. The villagers escaped with their children to the mountains. The soldiers went up into the mountains. Edwin, as a little boy, was told by some of the adults to run further away, to climb higher into the mountains, which he did.
He came back down the next day and saw that his mother and two of his sisters had been killed. He told us, at first I didn’t understand what had happened. I tried shaking them and calling out to them. I was only a little boy. I didn’t realize it was permanent.
We were sitting and listening. I was emotional as I listened to him. I had the image of this man as a little boy trying to wake up his loved ones and not being able to.
He finished his story.
One of us, I don't remember who, indicated that this sounded similar to stories of the Holocaust that the Jewish people experienced and then went on to say a bit about the Holocaust.
Personally I wished that the person hadn’t done that. Not that the comments were shared with bad intentions. They were shared with the best of intentions. Not that it isn’t important to speak about the holocaust - it is. And not that there isn’t value in sharing experiences - there often is.
But in that moment, it felt more appropriate to sit quietly and to keep listening, even after Edwin was done speaking. To let his words begin to land in our ears, our hearts and our souls.
Sometimes when we listen we rush to judge. And sometimes when we listen we rush to relate.
Both impulses can prevent us from beginning to come to some understanding of what a person has actually said.
Listening - with our minds and hearts - is not easy. But it’s crucial if we are to engage each other in any significant way.
As I said to this congregation before the trip, the process of redemption for the children of Israel, the process whereby we leave Egypt and begin our journey toward the promised land, begins with listening.
וגם אני שמעתי את נאקת בני ישראל V’gam ani shama’ti et na’akat b’nei yisrael. God says, I have now heard the groaning of the children of Israel.
When the Israelites arrive at Sinai, God tells Moses, say to the people - you saw what I did to Egypt, how I carried you on eagle’s wings. And now:
אם שמוע תשמעו בקולי Im shamo’a tishm’u b’kolee
If you listen to my voice, and if you observe my covenant, you will be my treasured people.
If you listen to my voice.
The listening, as it turns out, is overwhelming. Moses has to intercede to dilute the intensity of the sound. And after the listening there will be complaining and criticism and interpretation. What did God mean? What should we do?
But there is that moment, foundational to our establishment as a people, when God asks us to listen.
I will be speaking more about the work that AJWS does in Guatemala and elsewhere and how we can get involved. There’s so much more to say and that’s a great deal to do.
But today, looking back on the week in Guatemala and looking ahead, I "just" want to challenge us to listen. Before we rush to judge, or to say how much we can relate, or to suggest how we might solve or resolve.
I want to challenge us to listen with our minds and our hearts. My trip to Guatemala helped give me a small sense of how to do that. True listening, as our ancestors were taught, is the very beginning of redemption.
Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on February 3, 2018, Parashat Yitro
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