“I truly felt that I was a part of a community bonded by open-heartedness, hope, compassion, and concern, just as Cathedral intends to be, as stated in our school’s Mission.”
community bonded by open-heartedness, hope, compassion, and concern, just as Cathedral intends to be, as stated in our school’s Mission. This hospitality and inclusion allowed me to be a “traveler” and connect with others. It would be easy to attribute this friendliness to San Juan and leave it there, but in returning from Intersession, I discovered that I had the opportunity to bring this kindness to my community. In keeping with my experience in San Juan, I aimed to extend the same kindness and warmth to Mr. Ribas, a teacher working with Cathedral as part of Teach with Africa ( see page 84 ), while he visited our school. I said there were two reasons that San Juan is uniquely magical. The second lies in its location. Imagine four volcanoes. One erupts, creating a caldera. Another shifts, sculpting a profile with a distinct nose pointing upward as it emerges from the mountain. 80,000 years pass. The caldera has filled with water, forming a lake that is nearly the depth of Tahoe, yet only a quarter of the surface area. Still, it takes 30 minutes to cross by boat. That is Atitlán. The three volcanoes still surround it, separating the towns that dot the shore of the lake. The access to the towns is limited; you can either travel across the lake by boat or wind through narrow mountain roads. This geography is so unique that it has become the destination for international ultra marathoners (we saw them finishing their 50-mile race which spanned the three volcanoes).
We arrived in San Juan after dark, so our first view of Atitlán was particularly impressive—we awoke to see the mist lifting from the lake as birds chirped in the coffee trees. Ms. Hilbrich Sheppard said it was like being in a movie; other writers have called it the most beautiful lake in the world; I agree that Atitlán is majestic. And yet as my eyes focused that morning, I began to notice something eroding the beauty. What I thought were ducks on the water were actually plastic bottles. We discovered that litter crowds the lake’s banks—in fact, Cathedral students spent a morning collecting every- thing from tiny food wrappers to bus tires. Most of what they encountered was plastic. And the trash extends, with shopping bags floating into alleyways and piling up between houses. Guatemala as a whole struggles with infrastructure to support reliable waste management, and recycling is limited. In the case of Atitlán, the same geography that makes the lake so beautiful compounds the trash problem--it is difficult to access the towns and remove waste. This, furthered by the increase in tourism, makes Atitlán vulnerable to pollution. Again, just as I could limit the kindness of a community to San Juan, it would be easy to see the trash problem as limited
to Atitlán. It would be easy to blame local government for not providing disposal opportunities; it would be easy to say it’s their fault that plastic litters the streets. But that would be ignoring our role as consumers in creating a demand for plastic products. And the pollution that we saw in Lake Atitlán should be as concerning in the Bay Area as it is in Guatemala. The amount of plastic being produced has doubled every 15 years. Eighth graders—that means that in your lifetime, the amount of plastic being made has just about doubled. In my lifetime, it has more than quadrupled. Plastic now amounts to 8.3 billion metric tons. Worldwide, only nine percent of plastic ever made has been recycled. When Fr. Abidari and Ms. Cohen suggested giving up plastic for Lent, I immedi- ately pictured Lake Atitlán and thought, yes, I’m going to do just that. Just as I want to continue and extend San Juan’s kindness to Mr. Ribas, I want to take action to benefit my environment and that of the world. Cutting plastic is the harder task for me though—in fact, I haven’t gone a day without plastic yet but I promise I will do better. I encourage you to do so, too.
POEMS FOR GUATEMALA BY SARAH ROGGERO, Spanish Teacher
During Intersession this past year, 29 eager estudiantes de español and four fearless teachers traveled to Guatemala. There on the banks of Lago Atitlán, boys lived in homestays, attended language class, and learned a little bit about another country while discovering a lot about themselves. During the last afternoon in Guatemala, each boy wrote “Yo soy” poems to capture the moment and carry it back as a memento. Here is a selected poem from the series: Spanish
English Translation I am Guatemala I am Lake Atitlán I am blue I am Jimmy, my brother in Guatemala I am a coffee plant I am 8 in the morning I am the bread of my house I am the mountains I'm happy
Yo soy Guatemala Yo soy Lago Atitlán Yo soy azul Yo soy Jimmy, mi hermano en Guatemala
Yo soy una planta de café Yo soy las 8 de la mañana Yo soy el pan de mi casa Yo soy las montañas Yo soy feliz
30 | CATHEDRAL SCHOOL FOR BOYS
FALL 2019 • RED & GOLD 31
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