Peace Corps Life: Living in a Mud Hut

In all of my time leading up to Peace Corps Guatemala, I pictured rural life to the extreme. Think “Peace Corps” and you probably imagine a mud hut without electricity. Well, it turns out, it’s not quite that intense, but in some ways it’s close.

In training, during one of our “Cultural Sessions,” our trainer discussed with us the shortage of potable water here in Guatemala (just like in every third world country; we Americans take for granted the availability of water), and reminded us to use it sparingly. Somewhat jokingly, but with a hint of sincerity, I asked if it would be okay and/or necessary to bathe in rivers at times. My fellow trainees got a kick out of this. Some of them even gave me the nickname “Rio” (River), and named a little creek on the way to their town after me. The trainer responded with something to the effect of, “No, there’ll be enough water to bathe.” Well as it turns out, he was wrong.

Saturday I woke up, went for a run, then headed to the main house for breakfast, not knowing what the plan for the day was. We had discussed a possible trip to El Estor, a town along Lago (Lake) de Izabal near the Caribbean coast, to visit the grandfather of the family perhaps one last time. The option of an excursion to the river had also been thrown out. However, at breakfast, Claudia (my sister) told me that because the water came today, we were going to do laundry instead. (When the water comes on the weekend, we drop everything to do laundry.) So we didn’t travel. But then the water stopped falling. (We use verb caerse, which means to fall, to talk about the water coming or not.) I was hiking up to the main house when Claudia told me:

“We’re going to go to the river to wash. The water stopped falling.”
“To wash clothes or bodies?”
“Both.”

I couldn’t turn down a trip to the river, but how could I wash my clothes in the river without feeling like I was violating the environment and everything I stand for? And how could I tell them that they were contaminating the river, without implying that their lifestyle is destructive, especially when they have no other option? I thought about washing my clothes at the house and just going to the river to swim, but then using their limited water to wash my clothes didn’t seem right either. So I went and I washed, while it ate away at my conscience.

It was quite a production. We brought boards, set up rock piles to place them on, and went to work. Each female age 11 and up had her own board or rock to wash on. Luis, age 10, helped for a little while, until he started crying. I washed with Angela, age 11, in the middle of the river on some rocks. We were making small talk, and she commented on the fact that I didn’t have too many clothes to wash, while she had to wash all of hers as while as those of her little sisters. I said that I would help her, except that she probably wouldn’t be satisfied with my wash job because I don’t like to use very much soap, especially in the river because I don’t want to contaminate it more than I have to. She told me not to worry, because there’s no one downstream from us. I pointed out all the little fish swimming around our legs. “Oh, don’t worry, they don’t care. They eat the soap.” Right, okay. Probably not the best time for an environmental education lesson. Better when we step a little bit outside of the problem so that it doesn’t look like I’m pointing fingers.

Even with the moral qualms, it was a fun day nonetheless. It’s a nice deep river to swim in, and we brought a tasty picnic lunch. The highlight of the day though, was when the family that was already there finished their lunch and came down to the river to bathe. The men were decked out in Speedos, while the women wore shorts and t-shirts. For some reason swimsuits aren’t acceptable for women, yet men can wear next-to-nothing. I don’t understand.

The first woman broke out her little package of shampoo and lathered up. Later I saw her brushing her teeth with river water. My favorite (note my tone of sarcasm), however, was the man in the black and neon green Speedo who lathered up his whole body, then proceeded to reach into his Speedo and scrub hard. Yeah, you heard me right. It was quite traumatic.

After this family cleared out, and while I was still waiting for the rest of the women in my family to finish washing, I took my turn to bathe. Now don’t worry, at least for this I brought my Dr. Bronner’s organic soap so that I wasn’t a completely terrible, hypocritical person. After I discreetly bathed, I went around the area and picked up all the trash. Sadly, I don’t know how much good this did because they just burn it later. There’s a landfill around, but it’s not sanitary, and I don’t think many people use it.

Later I texted my friend who gave me the nickname “Rio” to let him know that I lived up to the name. He responded with, “Audrey, you don’t know how happy this makes me. I just may call you later to follow up on this.”

Continuing with the theme of mud huts, I’m searching for a home right now. Currently, I live in San Agustin in my own house but in a family compound. I don’t have a bathroom. I have to hike up the hill to use theirs, and considering how much I hydrate, it has become quite the inconvenience. San Agustin is also a Q3 microbus ride to San Fernando where I work. That’s Q6 per day; Q30 per week. It adds up. And it’s just a pain. So I’m going to move to San Fernando once my required 3 months of living with a family is up. It’s also got a bit more going on – a bit more lively.

My friend Juan offered his family’s extra house to me. He talked it up a fair amount, and I had my heart set on it. Then we went to look at it…

Problem #1: It’s made of wood, which isn’t quite safe here. With the cracks between the wood, ladrones (thieves) can just pry it right open and steal my stuff and/or me. Also, snakes can enter. I’m not afraid of snakes, except that they tend to be poisonous here.

Problem #2: It doesn’t have a fence, thus even less safe. As well, my future dog will escape, and my future garden will be eaten by the countless roaming chickens, pigs and dogs.

Problem #3: The two rooms that we were able to enter have dirt floors; supposedly, the others have something more solid, but that is yet to be seen.

Problem #4: NO BATHROOM. It has a latrine in the middle of the yard and a pila, where I would have to bathe basically in public. Granted, he said they would build a bathroom, but then I would have to commit to this house on the assumption that the bathroom would be decent.

Many of these problems are fixable, but why not just find a house that’s already up to Peace Corps security standards and that I can live in comfortably for 2 years? It’s not that I feel I’m above the living standard of the people in this community, but I need someplace safe, and there are options of decent houses. I don’t have to live with a latrine in my backyard. So the mayor and others that work in the Municipality are going to help me find a concrete block house with bars on the windows and a metal door with a dead bolt. I told them my 4 requirements:

My own house – I don’t want to share with a family or another individual. We Americans are accustomed to living alone, just as long as there are neighbors close by for interaction and to watch out for me and my stuff. As well, I need some space and privacy for when friends come to visit.
A kitchen – I’m planning on becoming a master chef with all this free time I’ll have in the next two years. Plus I’m tired of greasy eggs and beans.
A bathroom – with the problems I’ve had up to this point, it’s a necessity, and I’m tired of sharing a bathroom with the family.
A yard – I need space for my future garden and dog.

I don’t think that’s too much to ask. I’ll keep you updated on how the house hunt goes!

p.s. Send me some emails, or at least leave some comments on my blog. It gets a little lonely here! Miss you all! Come visit!