Lindsey and I went to the Alamo Drafthouse for his televised memorial. I was interviewed by News 8 Austin in the lobby of the theater, and later featured on local television with a descriptor proclaiming me a “Jackson Fan.” I was taken aback by my flowing tears during the lengthy service. I cried as if I’d known him personally. I cried because that bright, soft ten-year old kid spirit was so tormented in adulthood. I cried in mourning of the biggest star on the planet; his immeasurable fame was both his power and his downfall. I cried at Magic Johnson and Brooke Shields’ and others’ personal eulogies. The King of Pop was, after all, a human being.

On Halloween night, my friend Kat and I went to the VIP movie theater here in Guatemala City to watch This Is It, a documentary featuring footage of rehearsals for what clearly would have been the coolest concert ever.We reclined in our leather armchairs and marveled at MJ — his ever present talent (he didn’t bust a move like in the Thriller days, but he still had it, big time); his soft voice (“It’s all about the love,” seemed to be his personal mantra. “This is why we have rehearsals,” he’d say when someone fucked up); the way everyone (directors, dancers, choreographers) revered him on the set. There was no discussion of his life or death; it was, simply, a tribute to the last show put on by Michael Jackson. A spectacle that we were privileged to witness. I didn’t shed a tear until the credits rolled.

from “We Had Him” by Maya Angelou

He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.
Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.
He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.
We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.
His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.
And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.
We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.

• Ending Guatemalan hunger
• Improving the Guatemalan education system
• Respect and equality for all beings
• Environmental awareness & action
• Spreading peace, love, yoga & Buddhism
• Teaching clear, compassionate communication
• Promoting health, nutrition & spiritual practice

• To share the joys of yoga, meditation and living mindfully and guide people in rediscovering the power of  the present moment.
• To  effect positive change by cultivating compassion at the personal, societal and global levels
• To spread love, peace and balance through collaborative ideas, insights and action
• To live life to the fullest and really make a difference in the world

We are here to end suffering.
If ending suffering is more important than anything, we will end suffering.
If ending suffering is not more important than anything, we will not end suffering.
If I am suffering, it is because I am choosing something over ending suffering.
We are not here to create and cling to beliefs.
We are here to pay attention.
We are here to use everything in our experience to see how we cause ourselves to suffer so we can drop that and end suffering.
~Cheri Huber, Zen Teacher and Author

Did you know that the vast majority of Guatemalans (over 80%) are indigenous Mayan people?

I am just beginning to scratch the surface of this nation’s history, and it is not a pretty story. I read a book called Bridge of Courage by Jennifer Harbury, a Texan civil rights lawyer who came to Guatemala in the 1980s and became involved in the resistance movement of the Mayans. These people had already faced five centuries of mistreatment and genocide at the hands of Spanish colonizers, and in the late 1970s and early 80s, they were horrifically killed by the hundreds of thousands in a genocide covertly supported by the CIA. Harbury’s husband, a Guatemalan resistance comandante, was captured and tortured for over two years before being executed. After hunger strikes and protests, Harbury persuaded a CIA employee to leak… the US government was fully aware of his and 350 others’ torture. Meanwhile, most Americans had no idea that Guatemala was anything but a central American banana producer.

Her book is a collection of personal vignettes of compañer@s in the resistence movement. One young man ends his story by explaining the effect of an old man’s tall tales: “by the end of the afternoon, I realized that this man had done something really amazing with all his stories. He had pulled me in, opened my eyes, woven me into this incredible web of experiences that all of us in the movement share. All of a sudden I was not alone with my pain and my fear.” It did the same for me as a reader. Bridge to Courage is an amazing book, disturbing yet inspiring, sad, poignant and, occasionally funny. (One story is about a mischievous pet squirrel who steals food from the guerillas because they spoiled him with human food as a baby.)

I am wary of getting involved in politics here, because things are still shaky despite a “peace accord” signed in 1996. The “war on drugs” and general greed of the rich and disempowerment of the poor has led to rampant corruption and alarming crime and murder rates. If I leave Guatemala, it will be because of safety issues. Nothing has happened to me personally, but it’s always a possibility, and in some places a probability. I’m grateful for a nice, comfy home. I am forever in awe of the Mayans’ courage and drive for freedom and independence.