I Live in a Doll House

I’ve been in my new house for 5 weeks now, and I love it. We call it La Casa de Muñecas (The Doll House) and you can see why:

It also reminds me of the gingerbread house in Hansel and Gretel. Not quite what I pictured when I imagined my life in the Peace Corps!

At first it was a little scary moving out of the family life, but I’ve grown accustomed to it and am by no means lonely. My roommate and I are getting along fabulously, although it is at times difficult with the cultural differences and personality differences. We have constant visits from the neighbor children. Instead of sitting around and chatting about the same things (my dog, the weather, the gunshots), I’ve started doing arts and crafts projects with them. The kids that visit us are three sisters, Veronica, 14, Blanca, 10, and Flori, 5, and are just wonderful. They are going to be one of my secondary projects while I’m here. They moved to Chahal with their mom about when I did to be closer to their dad and his first family. The dad comes to visit a few times a week, but the four women are on their own. They have no friends here except for our other neighbor, Juliana, and her two children. (The first family is a ladina family and the second is Q’eqchi’ but they get along wonderfully, which is rare here.) Thus, these girls are going to be my secondary project – teach them new things and just simply be their friend.

The other family – Juliana and her kids – is also a marvelous family. Juliana is from one of the villages and splits her time between there and the town. When I have time, I’m going to spend a few days with her in the village. I’ve visited communities, but just short planned visits with the muni; with Juliana I will be able to really get to know the everyday life and the people in a rural village. Also, if at some point my roommate leaves and I can’t afford the Doll House alone, Juliana said I can move in with them – another experience that I would like to have: living with an indigenous family. It would be quite a change from living alone, but it would be something I would never forget. And it would keep my life interesting.

I don’t know how I was so oblivious to this my first eight months here, but the racism is extreme in this pueblo. It’s quite interesting because the ladinos are the minority. The demographic is in the favor of the indigenous (94% indigenous in the municipality as a whole, with a slightly lower percentage in the “urban” area), yet they are the marginalized group. Typically the discrimination isn’t overt, but it is there in the form of bigoted remarks and general poor treatment in stores and offices. I’ve noticed that many ladinos will use usted (second person formal, shows respect) with other ladinos that come into their shops or into the muni and will use vos (very informal second person, used for close friends/family or can be used to show you think you are above the other) with the indigenous that come in for the same services. It bothers me a lot, but I can’t change people’s attitudes and behaviors. What I can do, at least, is become friends with Q’eqchi’ people and treat them with respect and maybe someone will notice that I don’t feel that I am above them. I already made the first step toward that by moving to the neighborhood I am now in.

Santo Domingo is nearly all Q’eqchi’ whereas my old neighborhood, El Centro, was nearly all ladino. Many people told me not to move to Santo Domingo, that it is dangerous with all the indigenous people there, but I find it to be a very friendly, tranquil neighborhood. And now it will be easier to get to know their culture and learn their language. I will still keep the friendships I already made with ladinos (I’m not about to practice reverse discrimination), but I will keep a little bit more distance than I had. I don’t want to feel like I am condoning their behaviors by being too close with them.

With respect to work, it’s going well. The ball is finally rolling. I would say it’s a snowball rolling down a hill gradually growing larger, but that wouldn’t make sense in the jungle. Perhaps a mud ball? Anyway, the first six months were passed with little tangible progress. Being the first volunteer here, it took me awhile to get to know the project and how to develop it. Not to mention, to learn to live and work in this culture. As well, support was lacking from the muni at the beginning. At six months in site, I felt like the work finally started flowing. We wrote a large grant proposal for basic infrastructure in the park (the response will come next month… cross your fingers!) and the communication improved markedly with the mayor. At eight months, we finally made visible progress in the park. We hacked at the trails with pick axes to create better drainage and are now in the process of defining new trails to our current infrastructure. Tomorrow we will begin planting native plants and flowers. Slowly but surely we are making progress. The mayor, however, commented today that nothing has changed there since I’ve been here. I’m not about to make excuses to him, but it takes time, support and money; the latter two of the three were not present at the beginning. Additionally, planning has to happen before action. But he’s not upset, just a little disappointed and is encouraging us to get working. Our relationship has developed quite nicely in fact (if you remember, in the beginning we didn’t get along very well) – when I mentioned that my family is coming, he asked if my dad likes whiskey. Although they don’t speak the same language, they should get along just fine.

Tomorrow, my counterpart and I will be presenting the Annual Operating Plan for the park for 2009 to the mayor and his council. I expect they will approve it and we will buckle down and begin to make a dent in the park. Although in the next few weeks we won’t get much done – my family’s coming to visit in 10 days! It has been over 11 months since I have seen them. The park can wait for a few more weeks.

And I can't forget to mention my puppy, Patita (little foot). She is an adorable pain. She's almost four months old and just loves to chew on everything, especially me! I love having her in the house, and we brought her home just in time -- she was about two days away from death due to malnutrition. But now she's chubby and happy!

Here are links to pictures I just put up. They're from a few months ago when Allison, Eefje, Jeanne and Erin came to visit, but I just now managed to upload them.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030331&l=bd75b&id=27500355

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030332&l=88479&id=27500355

My friend, the scorpion

Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be stung by a scorpion? Well, if you don’t want to go find out for yourself, I’ll describe it.

First, you may be wondering how I managed to be stung by a scorpion. They abound in this area, first off. I was moving a concrete block in my kitchen on Monday night so that we could put the stove on top of it and felt a sting on the inside of my left wrist. Luckily, it didn’t cause me to drop the block on my feet! I set it down and saw the evil thing stuck to the back of the block. I freaked out not knowing how serious the sting is. We actually were having a little party at the house that night for my housemate’s birthday, and some of the guests just laughed at me and said there’s nothing I can do. They said it would hurt where it stung me and that my tongue would fall asleep. They were right … at first.

I felt like my arm was broken. But it wasn’t unbearable. It was a couple hours later when I got up and walked around that I started feeling weak and a bit dizzy. I quickly did what I needed to do to get ready for bed and laid down. I was at the point where, if I kept on walking, I would collapse. At this point, my whole body fell asleep, but not just that. I felt very heavy. I took some Benadryl at this point, but my throat had swollen up or something, and the pills did not go down easily.

Laying flat on my back was the best, but if I rolled to a side, there would be extreme pressure on the part of my body that I had moved – like a fat man were sitting on me. So I laid as flat as possible, but I couldn’t sleep like that. I think eventually I fell asleep, but I set my alarm for 2am so that I would wake up and make sure I was still alive. I had no idea how serious this could be and thus was admittedly a bit freaked out.

In the morning I still couldn’t move. I sat up for a second and felt as if a ton of rock were pushing down on me, so I laid back down. My big problem, however, was that I needed to pee. I actually thought I would have to wet my bed because I didn’t think I could walk to the bathroom. I eventually gave it a shot and managed to shuffle there while clutching the wall. Once my body became acclimated to moving, it began to flush out this weird sensation, but not completely. I returned to bed and slept all morning. When I finally got up and went out, I moved sluggishly. However, I had been invited to play in a basketball tournament in the evening. I decided I’d give it a shot. The first couple times up and down the court I became dizzy and thought I’d collapse. Luckily, that passed quickly. I had breathing problems also – I felt as if I had just smoked a pack of cigarettes and was trying to exercise at altitude (not that I would know what that feels like). In the end, the exercise was good to flush out the poison.

Today, I feel fine, except for a sore arm. So now it’s funny, but at the time I was pretty freaked out. Now I wonder, what will bite/sting me next? I do have some wonderful luck. Dog, check. Scorpion, check. Next?? Monkey? Jaguar?


New House

I’ve been in my new house for just over three weeks now, and I’m really content with the move. As I’ve mentioned before, the house is adorable and has a flushing toilet inside. The neighbors have turned out to be quite friendly, and are both Q’eqchi’ and Ladino so that I can continue getting to know both cultures. My roommate, Jacqueline, and I are getting along really well. We make dinner together and hang out and have intelligent conversations in Spanish (which is something I was lacking here). We went and played basketball the other night. And we have our puppy, Patita. First she was Cacao, which turned out to be a masculine name; then Canela (Spanish for Cinnamon) but that was too cutesy; now I’ve named her Patita (little foot) because she had a problem with her foot. She is adorable. So very playful. I’m so glad I have her.

On Monday (as I mentioned above), we had our first little dinner party. It was Jacque’s birthday, so I made dinner and a cake and we invited a couple of people over. Although we only have one fork, it was fantastic … until I was stung by the scorpion!

Rabies, houses and working 'til midnight

Well, life has been crazy (understatement) lately. It has finally, briefly, calmed down, so I thought I'd write a little update.

First up, my house: I've continued to go back and forth about where to live. The last update was that I decided to move in with my neighbors, Mingo and Clelia. I moved in on Monday (while they built me a door). After the first night there, I knew that it couldn't be a permanent situation. The Evangelical church is next door blasting its terrible music sung in tongues until 11pm; the TV is always on; the neighbors start up their ranchero music (also loud) at 5am; and there are just too many people there. So as luck would have it, a new lawyer moved into town needing a place to live as well! Her name is Jacquelyn, is 27 and is from Coban. We hit it off right away and were able to snag back the yellow house that I was originally going to rent. We're moving in Sunday! I was a bit worried after Mingo made me the door, but he said that it's not a big deal. And it turns out that Clelia is leaving him again, so it's better that I move out. I'll probably bring my puppy with me. Jacquelyn also mentioned getting a black lab together! As well as doing yoga in our upstairs, relaxing in hammocks there, planting a garden, and going on vacations in her car that she'll be bringing! I always knew the right option would come along. Just gotta have patience!

Second topic: working unbelievable amounts. I've been at the office until at least 8pm but as late as midnight for the past week. We were finishing up a proposal to the Fondo Nacional para la Conservacion de la Naturaleza for Q300,000 ($40,000) for infrastructure for my park. It is a ridiculously intricate format, but we did it! We finished last night, my counterpart turned it in today, and so now all we can do is cross our fingers! ... and relax, because we won't get the money until February. Vacation anyone?

Lastly, do to the working late and thus biking home at midnight, a pack of 3 crazed dogs chased me on Tuesday night. I screamed and yelled and kicked them while I was racing down the road. In all seriousness, it was pretty scary. I thought they were going to knock me off my bike and eat me alive. In the end, one of them managed to bite my calf, and once I got to the next block, they left me alone. But I don't know which one bit me -- I wasn't about to stop and analyze the situation with those blood-thirsty killers chasing me! Thus right now I'm at the Peace Corps office for my rabies vaccine. At least it's no longer 14 in the stomach!

So that's a little bit about my life right now. I may have sounded sad and lonely over the past month, which admittedly, I was. It's part of the roller coaster ride of Peace Corps life (especially with how isolated I am), but I feel like I have now fully rebounded. I'm back to being super happy in my site. I've started spending time with other families as well, so that I'm not as reliant on just the Rodriguez family, and with all this work, no time to be lonely! But yes, to sum up, I'm back to loving life and Chahal. I'll put up some pictures of my new house (and of the past 3 months) when I actually find an internet connection fast enough!

Life's a Roller Coaster Ride

So as you all likely know by now, I have been presented with the housing issue again -- I have to move out of my set-up with Doña Angelica. The plan was to rent my own house -- an adorable two-story yellow wooden house -- get a puppy (her name's Cacao; she's a mutt) and be content. Well, sometimes things change. I've been hitting quite a few lows lately on the Peace Corps roller coaster and decided that it is best to not head out on my own. If I'm already lonely, why make myself lonelier? I tried to rationalize that I'll enjoy having the freedom to do what I want in my own house, but really, I didn't come to Guatemala to live like I live in the States. Living with a family integrates me more into the culture, makes me speak Spanish more often, plus it's cheaper and safer (there have been countless robberies and a few shootings lately).

Thus, my plan: I'm going to move next door with Mingo, the son of Doña Angelica, and his wife Clelia and their baby. I already hang out there all the time and Clelia is my best friend here in Chahal. We'll see how it works. Perhaps when Doña Angelica returns I can move back in with her. But for the time being, I'm moving next door. I like my neighborhood -- playing in the street with the kids always lifts my spirits. I imagine that these lows will pass. I've been here for 10 months, what do I expect?

As far as my puppy goes, I've brought her over to the house a couple times. I fed her scrambled eggs because she is starving where she's at. She slept in my room, but first pooped and peed in there, as well as in the living room (I don't think Doña Angelica was too happy). Now the problem of what am I going to do with her. I can't bring her into Mingo's house; they don't even let their own dog inside. And his property's not fenced in. But if I leave her with Nuri (the little girl who gave her to me) she may die! My thought is to feed her, but keep her at Nuri's house.

So that's where I'm at right now. I have been a bit in the dumps, but it can't last forever, and I still have my highs as well. But as always, letters help :) My address otra vez:

Audrey Squires
San Fernando, Chahal
Alta Verapaz, Guatemala
Centro América

Hope to hear from you soon!

Chimuy Chicoc

Today I had one of the moments when I wondered, “Will I be able to leave Chahal in a year and a half?” It hit me on the drive back from a distant village with the mayor and some others from the Muni. We visited a community called Chimuy Chicoc in the southwest part of the municipality. In Chahal there are seven micro-regions; this community is in micro-region 1, which I had never been to before. It is about an hour from town and luckily the road goes all the way to the village. Don Cesario, one of the mayor’s consejales (advisors), is from this region and was beyond extremely pleased with my visit because foreigners never make it out there. The people of the Chimuy Chicoc were equally as pleased: many told me as I left, “Thank you so much for coming to visit our community. We appreciate it so much. I hope you can bring some memories back to your land from Chimuy.” For this reason, I am sharing the experience with all of you. I want you all to recognize how friendly and welcoming these people are – the people of Chimuy Chicoc, Chahal, Alta Verapaz, Guatemala.

(The kids of Chimuy Chicoc. They loved my camera!)

The visit to this community also involves a hilarious story. When we left town, the mayor and his consejales realized that they had forgotten to “bring something” to the community. As we passed through the village just before Chimuy, the mayor pulled over and Don Cesario hopped out to buy 4 tiny bottles of Venado (Deer), an alcohol that is quite similar to rubbing alcohol. We continued down the road, then right before the community we stopped, got out the plastic cups that the mayor keeps in the truck for just these occasions, and prepared ourselves for the visit. Don Cesario poured the drinks – a good-sized shot of Venado plus a hint of Pepsi. Then we continued on our way; we were ready. However, we finished all the Venado and had none to share with the community; obviously I misinterpreted the phrase, “bring something to the community.” We talked for 2 ½ hours with the community about the projects they want. It was all in Q’eqchi’ (including the bit that I said), and I understood a good chunk of it. When we finished, the community members broke out a fifth of Venado light (who knew it came in light?) and mixed it with 7up. At this point I was a bit tipsy, and shocked that these men would give me alcohol – sometimes I feel like people see me as a male here, since I wear pants, am educated and work. We then ate our caldo (a type of soup – the typical local dish), I played with the kids, listened to marimba and we hit the road. We stopped at the tienda (store) where we had bought the original bottles of Venado in order to return them … and buy more! They wouldn’t let me say no, so I had another. I must say, my relationship with the mayor is now much stronger and friendlier … hmm, I wonder why?

Sometimes when I’m walking down the muddy streets of Chahal, I step out of myself for a moment and envision me standing on a globe in this random little town in rural Guatemala, then spin the globe to Springfield, Oregon and am baffled as to how I managed to come to this place of all places in the world. However it happened, though, it doesn’t really matter, I’m just glad it did. I am learning so much about myself and about the world through being here.

What’s more, my work is really coming together now. I hit six months in site and boom, I’m up to my ears in projects. It took the first six months to get to know the community and what it needs and how to work in this part of the world (i.e. slowly). But now, puchica vos (dang dude), I’ve got some really exciting projects on the table. First of all, my counterpart and I are working on a proposal with FONACON (Fondo Nacional para la Conservacion de la Naturaleza – National Fund for the Nature Conservation) for 300,000 Quetzales ($40,000), which we would use to build interpretative trails, bridges, a visitors center and other infrastructure for Las Conchas. It’s obviously not guaranteed that we will receive this money, but it is highly possible.

Secondly, we recently formed a committee to deal with the trash problem here in Chahal. Trash is a huge problem in all of Latin America, and all developing countries for that matter, but it came into the spotlight here when the passage was closed to the dump, the trash was thrown in the forest reserve for a couple weeks (which I later had to go pick up by hand, yuck), and then eventually moved to a forested ravine alongside the highway. So, my APCD (Program Director) Flavio came last week to check on me (he was very pleased, by the way) and we put on a workshop of what we can do to combat this problem. From there, we have formed a group of community leaders who really want to work on this. They come from the three main institutions in town: local government, education and health. I am very hopeful about the potential we have to make Chahal a cleanier, healthier, more beautiful place through a variety of steps, including building a sanitary landfill, teaching locals to compost, starting a recycling center, and simply having pride in their town. Sadly, though, we had a meeting this afternoon and I missed it because the visit to Chimuy took so long! But the group understood and forgave me because I’m going to make cookies for the next meeting!

Thirdly, I am working on another project proposal to create a park in the Areas Verdes (Green Areas) that have been set aside in town which would include a running/walking trail, playground equipment and a botanical garden with native plants. As well, in this proposal we’re going to ask for funds to build trails in the forest reserves (119 and 37 hectares, respectively). We are asking for the money from Perenco, the “local” French oil company that has its oil pipeline running through Chahal. I rubbed elbows with the head-honchos last week, and they said they would gladly finance this project. The money may be a bit tainted, but I figure it’s better to use it for something good!

I have handful of other small things currently going on, but those are my main focuses right now. Outside of work, I’m making more friends, including friends that want to go hiking/exploring with me or at least play basketball. And my co-workers in the muni are finally learning that they need to bring me on their treks to distant communities – I think I’m going to one this weekend – a half-day hike to get there! I’ve also been solidifying bonds with other volunteers lately. I still don’t plan to leave site often to go see other PCVs, but on occasion it’s necessary, and now quite enjoyable as well. This past weekend, after a month in site, we had an early Halloween party in Coban with some spectacular costumes (I was a 1987 Vegas cocktail waitress). I think the next time I see other volunteers will be for Election Day – we will need moral support just in case!

(Andy the thug, Audrey the 1987 Vegas cocktail waitress, Stephanie the costal and Tigo Ted)

I almost forgot! At the end of the month I’ll be moving into my new house. I am finally quite content, excited and ready to be in my own house. I may be lonely at times, but really, with all the work I have going on right now, when I get home, I’m ready to relax – read a bit, study some Q’eqchi’, cook a delicious meal. Plus, I’ve been here long enough that I have friends and families that I can visit, but this way, I won’t be confined to spending the majority of my time with the family I live with. And the house is adorable – it’s two-stories, yellow, wooden and with the bathroom INSIDE! It’s fenced in, which will be perfect for my new puppy Cacao. (She’s a mutt, but cute nonetheless.)

When looking for a house in Guatemala...

... make sure to ask these questions:

• Does it have electricity?


• Does it have water?


• Does it have drainage for a toilet/shower or does it just have a latrine?


• Does it have a floor? (instead of just dirt)


• Is it made of wood or concrete block? (Snakes and other creatures can crawl through the gaps in the wood, and thiefs can break into wood houses pretty easily.)


• Does it have a pila? (the large concrete basin for collecting water since it doesn't fall all the time)

Hopefully I will have some luck with my search! I have to move at the beginning of November. I'm a little bummed about leaving my place, but I think in the end it will be good to have a little independence. And my new puppy will keep me company!

Water or Electricity?

Water or electricity, which is more important? My mom asked me that question last night, in all sincerity. It has become a bit of a reality for me. Not that it’s an option to choose between the two, it’s merely an academic question. A few weeks ago, the water wasn’t falling (that’s the verb used in Spanish for water coming out of the tap – caer), which is strange here. Normally, it comes quite regularly, 6am to 5pm. Sadly, I wasn’t able to use the washing machine, let alone take a shower. Bucket baths and washing clothes by hand, which is completely do-able, I merely had become accustomed to the easy life.

The water began to fall again, but then I was informed of the high cost of electricity and that we can no longer use the washing machine. Actually, Doña Angelica told me to keep on using it until they turn off our electricity, but I’m not going to do that. I thought she was just being facetious, until yesterday when she told me they’re going to cortar la luz (cut the light) in the house because she can’t pay the bill.

I feel, though, like I could live without electricity. It’s not a necessity. I don’t particularly like to watch TV; I can charge my electronics in the muni; I can make smaller meals so that I don't have leftovers; and going to bed earlier sounds quite appealing.

It turns out, though, that I may have to move anyway because word on the street is that she is closing up the house for a couple months starting in October (when Chino gets out of school) to go to El Quiche (another department) to take care of her mother. It’s a bummer, because I like my set-up, but at the same time, I like the idea of having my own place. It may be a little lonely, but I would just ride my bike around visiting people. Plus, it would give me something more to do, taking care of the house and yard. I would like to have to mow the lawn with a machete. First I have to buy a machete…

Stay tuned to see how my situation develops!

Living Like a Chapina

Although I said I would try to write shorter and more frequently, I haven’t yet been able to realize that dream. I tend to avoid going to the internet these days, or moreover, I just have better, more interesting things to do with my time. Nonetheless, I will try to recap the last month concisely but intriguingly.

A Little Vacation

As I mentioned in my last blog, I was awaiting the arrival of my first visitors. Allison and Eefje flew in at the beginning of August and stayed for a week and a half. It was their first time to Latin America, so I tried to do my best as their tour guide. We hit up the Coban Feria first and rode the ridiculously fast, and I’m sure completely safe, Ferris wheel. From there, we met up with Ted, another PCV, at his site in northwestern Alta Verapaz: Laguna Lachua. A beautiful, pristine lake surrounded by the jungle. It also has a hint of a sulfur smell, which I savored (i.e. it reminded me of Yellowstone). After hitching a ride from the local police (no need to flirt, just the fact that we’re female, they’re happy to take us), we hiked the 4 kilometers through the jungle to the lake. We spent two nights there, and on the second night were joined by some other volunteers. It was a good time, and fun to mix two of my multiple worlds.

Next came meeting up with Jeanne and Erin in Flores, Peten, the gateway to Tikal, the capital of the ancient Maya world. We camped out in the park, giving us the ability to see sunset and sunrise from the temples, which were disappointingly unspectacular due to the clouds and fog. But the sounds of howler monkeys as we were hiking in the dark made up for it, although the voices of hundreds of people hiking along side of us did detract from the experience. In the daylight, I loved seeing spider monkeys swing from tree to tree, and toucans flying around; needless to say, lack of color in the sunset and rise wasn’t the end of the world. I would say the best part, though, was when our guide tore into another tourist for feeding the wildlife. It was brilliant. And of course, climbing the temples was stunning, and more of a workout than I had expected!

After some adventures throughout Guate, it was time for gringas (and Eefje) to invade my site. Nearly everyone thought that they were my sisters, even if they already knew that I only have one sister and she’s not coming until December. Allison and Eefje came Tuesday and left Thursday; Jeanne and Erin came Wednesday and left Monday. Thus, the two pairs were seen together by very few people, leading most people to believe that they were the same two friends. Obviously not the case (which you'll see once I put up some pictures).

Allison and Eefje didn’t stay long, but they were able to see the pageant to elect a new queen of the elementary school, we strolled through the market, and, of course, I took them out to Las Conchas. It was the first time I was really able to have fun there; typically, I go to work, or if we are going just to hang out, it’s with old men, which is just awkward.

Jerin does Chahal

Early Thursday morning they were off, and it was Jeanne and Erin’s turn to get to know Chahal. Since they just received their Master’s in Teaching, I figured I’d take them to my environmental education class. It was a riot. The kids loved having three gringas teaching them. We did a role play of water contamination where the kids had to put chemicals, trash, soap and urine into the river (a bucket) then we asked them if they wanted to drink it. The best part was when the queen of the school had to “pee” in the “river.” At the end, Jeanne added an English class which was also a riot. They’re typically taught:

Hello.
How are you?
I am fine.
My name is ______.

Instead, she taught them to say:

Hi.
What’s up?
You’re hot.
Call me.

It was especially hilarious when a kid said out of script, “you’re hot” to Jeanne.

That evening we were invited to a convivio with the muni in one of the communities. They were celebrating a new potable water project and signing the papers for it. It is incredible for these people – they will finally have running water after all their lives of hiking down to the river to carry it up on their heads. One of the leaders of the community thanked the muni for the project and coming to share in the celebration, then he said to us in Q’eqchi’, of course, “I have no idea who you are or why you’re here, but thank you for being here and visiting our community.” It was amazing. So I stood up and did my best in Q’eqchi’ to introduce ourselves and thank them. It was the best round of applause I’ve ever received. I just wish I could speak more Q’eqchi’, but it all comes with time, and depends on finding a good teacher. I’m now on my third and she’s not looking promising.

A New Interpretation of the Chicken Bus

As you may know, in Guatemala most of the transportation is on what we like to call “Chicken Buses.” They are old U.S. school buses that have made the trip south, received a new paint job, a luggage (or animal) rack on top, and a new motor, and now load up with sometimes more than twice their approved carrying capacity. We call them chicken buses because people tend to bring their chickens (among other animals) on the buses (likely transporting them to the market). Sadly, these buses are rare in my region of the country, but on my way back from Las Conchas with Jeanne and Erin we discovered a new kind of Chicken Bus.

We hopped on the microbus to head back to town after a refreshing dip in the river. It was relatively empty and we spread ourselves out in the back seat. There was a woman in the first row and a man in the second. I’m not sure which one the chickens belonged to, but now it doesn’t matter. They were little baby chickens with their legs tied together by string, and still alive, mind you. The man began picking them up, one by one, dangling them out the window for a moment by their feet, then dropping them. Maybe they were sick, but whether they were or not, he dropped live chickens out the window of the bus to suffer in the heat with their legs tied together. I don’t really understand. Especially because if they weren’t of value anymore, why would he have brought them on the micro in the first place? For that reason, I assume they were still decent chickens. Thus my next question is, why would he toss to the side of the road a potential source of food and/or income for his family, when they don’t likely have much? It remains a mystery to me.

Other Adventures in Chahal

Las Cuevas de Setzol – The caves in my site that are a potential ecotourism location. I took Jeanne and Erin there with some of my chapine (Guatemalan) friends. I had been once but didn’t go swimming that time. So this time we went swimming in the large river that passes through the amphitheater-like cave. It was incredible!

Marimba, no wait, cantina – The evening after the caving adventure there was a marimba concert and my friend’s school. He invited us to come learn to dance marimba. It was supposed to start at 8 o’clock; we arrived at 9 and they weren’t even close to starting, so instead we went and had some beers in a nearby cantina. (I originally thought that it would ruin my reputation to drink in town, but I have since learned that in the right places, it is okay for me to have a few.) We had a couple beers and ended up missing the concert. When we left, the girls insisted on paying, but the woman behind the counter wouldn’t even touch their money! They left it anyway, but the guys were not too happy about that later. Oh well, part of the Peace Corps mission is to share our culture, right?

Chino’s Bomba – Chino is the little boy that lives in my house. He is a riot; I love playing with him, anything from tickling to wrestling to just swinging him around. Typically, though, I just so much as poke him and he falls down on the floor laughing hysterically. This time though, perhaps a special presentation for Jeanne and Erin, when I tickled him he let out a huge fart (bomba)! It was absolutely hilarious. I get such a kick out of that kid.

I Still Work Too…

• The other week I finally introduced myself to the auxiliary mayors (each community has their own mayor). I gave them a short talk about the environment and offered my services to their schools. I really want to start getting out into the communities more and working with them.
• Last week I helped out two of the local teachers with an HIV/AIDS workshop for the 5th and 6th grade teachers in town. It’s something I’m planning on making a secondary project here. It’s definitely something they lack in their education, although, surprisingly, sex education is required in Guatemalan schools!
• Last month I started becoming hopeful that we were really going to start working after the exchange we did with the other park. However, I have still not met with the Municipal Corporation and the mayor. I was supposed to be in one of their meetings last week, but they didn’t let me come in. It’s quite frustrating. And the mayor just pisses me off because, even though he’s never here, he makes snide comments to me that I am off on vacation all the time. If he would bother to look at the plan I turn into him each month, or, heaven forbid, talk to me, he would realize that I have Peace Corps meetings that I have to go to, and that I used my vacation days when my friends came.
• My work relationship/friendship with my counterpart is really blossoming which will help my situation out a lot I think. We went to the park on Monday and had a productive meeting with the park guard.

San Luis Feria

Last weekend was the feria in my friend Alex’s town: San Luis Jilotepeque, Jalapa. It’s about 7 hours away, but was well worth the trip because some of my best friends in Peace Corps were there.

I started out the trip with chasing the microbus 8 blocks through town at 4 a.m. in my cowboy boots. It was supposed to show up at my house at 4:30 a.m. but I woke up to it honking at 3:45 a.m. I tried to stop it, but he couldn’t hear me shouting from the door and I wasn’t about to run outside in my underwear. By the time I threw on my clothes, he was gone. And that is the reason I sprinted through town. Luckily, I managed to not get bitten by any rabid dogs. Although one did receive a boot in the snout.

The highlights of the feria were climbing Volcan Ipala and swimming in its crater; dressing up in cowboy attire and going to the rodeo; dancing the night away; and, of course, just hanging out with those friends.

My Second Feria

Since we have two towns in Chahal, we have two ferias. It works out pretty well I think. Alex and I did “feria intercambio,” so she came to Chahal on Tuesday and stayed through Saturday. We ate some delicious tamales, watched the rodeo and danced like I’ve never danced in Chahal! The rodeo was pretty good, and PACKED! So many people and so few seats that people were watching from under the bleachers. On the last night of it, the announcer made the comment, “El que no aplauda tiene SIDA.” Translation: He that does not applaud has AIDS. After he said it the second time, I got up and asked him please not to say that, that it is hurtful and discriminating. He told me that if I want to do his job, fine, otherwise I can sit down or leave. He didn’t care to listen to me, but at least heard it. I was pretty pissed off after that, but it got better when some friends treated us to flour tortillas (I get a little tired of corn tortillas sometimes) and we went dancing. And the dance was more fun than any I’ve been to in my town yet … probably because people are no longer afraid to talk to me!

Biking to Las Conchas

I’ve always wanted to bike out to Las Conchas, but have never had anyone to do it with. But with Alex here, I had a biking buddy! I’ve heard a lot of numbers of how far it is, but I would say about 20 km each way. Between how shitty the road is and water, photo and chatting with local breaks, it took about 2 ½ one-way. It was absolutely amazing. The best thing I’ve done yet in my site. Being able to see the landscape slowly, without the noise of a motor was just spectacular. And stopping and chatting with the people from the communities – trying out my Q’eqchi’ on them. I’m now thinking this could be an option for ecotourism out here. By the time we got home we were absolutely beat, and soaked because it started raining at the end. But it was well worth it. I have missed so much feeling that point of complete exhaustion after extreme physical activity such as races and workouts, or the all-day hikes in Yellowstone. The one bummer was that we did not have enough energy to go to the marimba dance that night; I imagine there will be more in the 19 months that I have left here. (Yes, we are into the teens now! It is going by so fast … sometimes too fast.)

Bueno, until next time. Miss you all, and would love to hear from you!

Eventually, there will be pictures, but not yet. As you know, I live in rural Guatemala which means the internet connection is more like the tortoise than the hare!

4 Months in Site - Oh how the time flies!

I was feeling very disillusioned at the beginning of the week. I realized that I have been in site for four full months now, and really, what have I accomplished? Peace Corps tells us that the first three months in site are to get to know the community and the project and actual activities should be minimal. But I’m past three months now. I have felt lately like an ineffective volunteer. Yet I have to remember that the process is very slow here. Nothing happens quickly. There is a reason that my service is two years long.

One of the major road blocks that I’ve had is that I can’t work by myself. I need the support of the Corporation (equivalent of the city council) and the mayor. But they don’t listen, don’t give me time and, moreover, simply don’t understand the concept of ecotourism. Times are changing though. At the end of the week we did an interchange with two well-developed ecotourism sites. It was organized for us by an NGO that helps ecotourism projects in the area. They brought all of us who are involved in the project in Las Conchas to Semuc Champey which is a park that has similar qualities to ours, and is run by a municipality. We also visited Las Cuevas (Caves) de Candelaria and went tubing inside the caves!

First off, it was awesome because, for work, I went on vacation to two beautiful places … for free. Second, the Corporation learned a lot and now understands my ideas, like an interpretive trail, and wants them as well. All in all, the trip was a huge success, I really think we’ll be able to start working now … just as soon as I come back from my vacation :) .

Although my project has been coming along slowly and I had been disenchanted with that part of my life in Chahal, that is only one part of why I’m here. Two of the three goals of Peace Corps is cultural exchange, and I am excelling in that facet. I love living in Chahal. I love the family that I am living with, and they love me. One of the sons told me the other night his mom wants her son that is in Spain to come back and for us to get married and that we can have the house together! Probably not going to happen, but it means a lot to me that she thinks that highly of me.

Well, that’s all for now. As suggested by my sister, I’m going to try to start writing shorter blogs more frequently so that it’s easier for you all to stay caught up on my life.


About Semuc Champey and some pics:

Semuc Champey is a well-developed park now, thanks in part to six years of Peace Corps Volunteers. The site's now closed for PCVs though ... they don't really need our help anymore.

These are pools of water made from springs running off the mountainside. They're not actually part of the river, just sit on top of it while the river runs underneath them in a cave!

The waterfall is the pools joining with the river as the river comes out of the cave!

That's my counterpart, Heimer, in front, plus a handful of the guys from the muni.

Sweeeeeet views from the mirador they built up on the mountainside.

¡Adios July!

I’m over Antigua, yet I must continue to go there. I like that I’m 11 hours from the Peace Corps office, but I don’t like it when I actually have to make the trip, which seems to be quite often lately. I had been a site rat (I don’t like the negative connotation of this name because I think it’s a good thing to spend time in site – it is the reason we’re here – but that is the name that has been given to us) for quite some time, but lately it’s been a week in site, a week out of site, and it’s getting old. However, that does not mean that I’m not looking forward to showing Allison, Eefje, Jeanne and Erin around Guatemala. That will be worth it. I foresee many adventures. I’m also just excited to share my life with people who knew me before I came here and who aren’t already accustomed to life in rural Guatemala. You could say that I’m hoping to shock them a little bit.

I broke this last trip to Antigua into two days, mainly because of the half marathon – I didn’t want to be sitting in micros and buses for 11 hours straight right before racing. I stayed in Rio Dulce on Friday night, which should be a 3 hour trip (ideally 1.5 – 2, but drivers suck here). I left San Fernando at 1:30 pm and got to Rio Dulce at 6 pm. You can do the math on that one. The main problem was that about 45 minutes outside of town, there’s a 20-foot-deep ditch that bisects the road. The surrounding houses were being inundated by the stream that could not pass through the clogged culvert, so they removed the culvert and are currently constructing a bridge. Originally they announced that it would take three days. Welcome to road construction in Guatemala: it has been three weeks. Anyway, the micro drivers knew about this going in, so their plan was for one to leave San Fernando and the other to leave Cadenas (the junction with the next highway) at the same time and switch passengers at the road block. Sounds perfect, except that the driver coming from Cadenas didn’t show up. So after getting out of the first micro and walking across the ditch on a narrow concrete wall, I waited. But don’t worry, I learned the skill of patience back in January, although I have honed it down to an art over the past 6 ½ months.

After maybe an hour, I piled into some random micro, escaping a creepy and very talkative construction worker, and eventually made it to Cadenas after we changed the tire that exploded while we were driving. In Cadenas I found my next micro pretty quickly, however, this character drove beyond slow. He also shared with me that he had been in the States for three months a few years back (without a visa but not even working) and got put in jail for a year. He now does not like the U.S. he told me. Obviously. But I’m thinking he probably had to do something a little bit worse than just not have papers. I did not ask, though. That was the main excitement of the trip. 4 ½ hours the first day plus 8 hours the second day equals 12 ½ hours total (including waiting), which is a new record my friends! I think I win as being the furthest volunteer from the training center; during the workshops, one of my friends went to her site and came back to the office within the same afternoon. I could do that … if I had a plane. Speaking of planes, a few “crashed” in Chahal a couple weeks ago – drug planes.

The half marathon was definitely the highlight of the week. Although not very organized (start line not marked, for example) and pacing was impossible (kilometer markers were few and far between), I ran the first 10 km in 47 minutes and finished in 1:42:09 (7:47.9 mile pace)!! My time in Coban was 1:54:46 – 12 minute PR! This course was a lot flatter, as well, I wasn’t gravely ill four days before, and I had more training under my belt. I think I could’ve dipped under 1:40, though, had the course not been on cobblestone for a few kilometers. It is very difficult to sprint on. It’s also not so good for the ankles. I had a bad ankle going into the race (it’s hurt for about a month), but told myself I would ignore it until after the half. You know how I am. So I didn’t break it during the race, but it definitely was sorer and I found out from the nurse that my Achilles tendon is slightly torn, but only a 1 on a scale of 1 – 4. I suppose it’s time for a break. Despite the ankle, though, I was the 19th woman – next year top 10! They gave prizes to the top three women and top SIX men. Que machismo. But at least they allow women to run, right?

The rest of the week really wasn’t that exciting. Yes, I got to see my PCV friends, but I just saw them at the 4th of July party, and really, I didn’t come here to make friends with gringos. I have enough of those back home, right guys? I left the training/Spanish workshop early, though, to observe an HIV/AIDS taller (workshop) that some other volunteers were giving to teachers in one of their sites. It was fun, and very important – the HIV rate in Guatemala is extremely high and education about this is lacking. Now I’m considered trained to be one of the presenters, so that’s pretty cool.

The trip home was quite long, of course, but at least I got to see a new area of the country. The department of Baja Verapaz is beautiful! But Coban to Chahal is no longer a trip I enjoy making. With the rainy season, the road is even worse and the trip that once took 3 ½ hours on a good day, took 5 hours! And the whole time with only half a seat. Oh how my ass hurt at the end of the ride. They shoved 30 people in (and on) the micro that should hold 15!

I got home Saturday afternoon, which was important to me because I really wanted to spend Sunday in Chahal. The whole family went out to the finca (farm) of one of the son-in-laws. We ate lunch (I provided a delicious potato salad – my mom’s recipe), then swam in the river and just relaxed. When we got back to town we played a game of basketball. This time the court was fixed, so we played full court, 5 on 5. My team won, thanks to my two 3-pointers; although, I probably shouldn’t have played due to my Achilles, but I would tarnish my reputation here if I declined to participate in a sporting event. However, I will have to excuse myself from the road race that’s being held this week – too much pressure on the ankle … not that a basketball game is good for it either.

That’s all for now. A few days of work in site, then those of us involved in Las Conchas are making a visit to a very developed ecotourism site, Semuc Champey, to get some ideas from that municipality. Should be hard work :) Then off to pick up Allison and Eefje at the airport!

Out of Site

Where to begin? It’s been awhile since I’ve written, and I don’t really know where I left off, or what’s gone on in my life in the past few weeks. It has been quite eventful; I know that much.

Vacation anyone?

We’ll start at a logical point: my little vacation at the end of June. Kelly, another volunteer in Guatemala, showed up in Chahal on Thursday afternoon. She was the first person to visit me here; it was fun to be able to show off my town to her. She was jealous, but I do have the picturesque Peace Corps site (although I am slightly biased). We took off early Friday morning, hoping the ominous bridge about an hour outside of town would not be flooded. Luckily, it didn’t rain cows (that’s the phrase here) the night before, so we made it to Rio Dulce (Sweet River).

Here in Chahal, obviously, we have a nice river, but Rio Dulce is a large body of water, which I have missed, especially since a year ago at this time I was going out on Yellowstone Lake daily.

Aguas Calientes: becoming one with the bats

In Rio Dulce we went on a little excursion to Aguas Calientes (hot waters). It’s a thermal spring that becomes a creek and then a waterfall which joins with a cold creek below. It was beautiful; I felt like I was back in Yellowstone … aww the smell of sulfur. Before we took our hot showers, we followed the cold creek upstream until it disappeared inside a cave. As I’m sure you can easily guess, I went inside. How could I not? The guide told me that about 200 meters inside I would find a large waterfall. I had never seen a waterfall inside of a cave, so off I went. Kelly, however, did not feel the inclination to join me and the guide stayed with her.

Alone. Thrilling. I swam in with my headlamp. Within about a minute there was no longer daylight streaming in and with every stroke it became louder and louder with the approaching waterfall. I want to be brave and say I wasn’t scared, but I admit, my heart was racing a bit. Swimming inside a deep, dark cave alone with a huge waterfall (not knowing if any dangers related to that lay ahead), and bats flying in front of my face trying to eat the insects before I inhaled them – yes, it made me a bit anxious, but that made the experience that much better. When I got to the waterfall, I climbed up the rocks and stood next to it. I did exercise enough good sense, though, to not swim in it – who knows what kind of undercurrent it has, or if there’s a secret cave below where half the water flows into and where I would spend the rest of my days treading water and eating bats. Not exactly my idea of a good time.

When I reemerged from the cave, we hiked back to Aguas Calientes and relaxed there for awhile. I set off to hike on my own to the spring. I had climbed up to the top of the waterfall when the guide got up from his log to accompany me. I shouted across the creek that I wanted to go alone, but he followed anyway because some other tourists were interested in going. I disappeared into the woods in front of them and took off running on another trail – I wanted some time alone in the woods. After a bit, I headed back and took the trail toward the spring; they were long gone. I took it all in, then worked my way back to the waterfall, where I noticed some tree like vines which were just incredible. They were woody and thick, and each one intricately wrapped itself all around multiple trees. It was difficult to follow them from the beginning to the end. Anyway, I climbed back down and Kelly told me that the guide had come back on a completely different trail because he had gone off looking for me! I should probably feel bad, but I don’t. I’m so tired of having to have guides here. I’m not used to being guided on hikes. I needed that escape; he’ll get over it.

Friday night we spent in Rio Dulce at a hostel right on the river, danced a bit, of course, then took off in the morning to Livingston which lies at the mouth of Rio Dulce on the Caribbean Coast. Finally in a boat again! It’s about a 2 hour boat ride, and gorgeous the whole way. There are a few scattered villages, but not much development. The broad river eventually narrows into a steep, narrow, breath-taking canyon, then widens again as it approaches the sea. Despite being soaked by the rain, it was beautiful.

Livingston: back on the water

In Livingston we experienced a bit of the Garifuna culture. Garifunas are black-latinos: escaped slaves that settled on the Caribbean coast throughout Central America. They have their own language and some awesome music and dancing.

On Sunday we hopped into a boat that took us up the coast to Siete Altares (7 Altars), the site of the first Tarzan film. It’s a sparkling blue waterfall in the jungle, but just a 15 minute hike from the beach. Despite the hoards of people, it was beautiful, and fun to jump off of! Then we continued in the boat up the coast to Playa Blanca (White Beach), where we relaxed in hammocks underneath coconut trees for the rest of the afternoon.

We stayed in Livingston until Tuesday, not doing much, just relaxing until we had to be in Antigua for meetings. On Monday, though, I walked up the beach to go back to Siete Altares; it was just that beautiful, and I needed more time alone in the woods. Along the way I met some little boys who were scooping up little crabs and clams in the sand. They were so excited to show me how many they had gathered up and offered to give me some, saying how delicious they were. I politely declined, telling them that I didn’t have a stove to cook them on. “You can buy one,” they told me.

Tuesday morning we left on a boat heading south along the coast to Puerto Barrios, described to us as “a toilet,” but the cheapest way to get out. It’s the port where the infamous railroads full of bananas led to back in the days when Chiquita Banana was trying to rule Guatemala. (If you’re interested in the coup that the U.S. CIA helped to facilitate of the democratically elected Guatemalan government in 1954, I suggest that you read Bitter Fruit: The Story of the American Coup in Guatemala. Some other good books about Guatemala are The Art of Political Murder: Who Killed the Bishop? and I, Rigoberta Menchu.)

From there we went to Antigua for meetings, and more importantly, the Peace Corps 4th of July party. I have to say, it was the best 4th of July party I’ve ever been to … and it wasn’t the USA!

Volcan Pacaya: playing in lava

Saturday very well could be the highlight of my week. I finally went backpacking again. It’s been since OCTOBER! A group of us went to Volcan Pacaya, an active volcano near Antigua. It’s a pretty easy hike up, at least once you get through the children renting hiking sticks and the teenagers who have graduated from sticks to renting horses. We set up camp next to the lava field with a perfect view of the spewing cone. Once it was dark, we packed our bags with our dinners and plenty of marshmallows and set out for our trek across the lava. Maneuvering was a little difficult in the dark (even with headlamps), especially when we got to areas with hot flowing lava underneath the cool lava we were walking on top of. Some of us hiked up to a small cone that was somewhat active to check it out. However, once we made the ascent, it became more active! Perhaps it didn’t like us. (Here’s another near-death hiking story to add to my repertoire, even though I wasn’t in Yellowstone with Caleb.) It started shooting the lava closer to us. Then add in the sound of the escaping gas, it was enough to make me scurry back down to “safety.” After that, it was time to go to the river of lava to poke it with a stick. By this point, I had had enough of red hot lava and was content with waiting on the black, cool lava for marshmallows, but really, have you ever known me to refuse an adventure when other people are doing it? So I went, a bit freaked out, but it turned out to be amazing. If you were wondering, sticks don’t easily enter flowing lava. Although it’s moving, it’s still relatively solid. It takes a bit of force for the stick to break into it, and then pretty quickly it will catch on fire, just like it felt my shoes were going to do! After that, my adventure-bucket was filled to the brim and I was content to retire to the non-flowing, non-glowing lava and toast my tuna and roast my marshmallows, which were delicious. Eventually we made our way back to camp to relax around the campfire. (It was so refreshing to finally need a fire to stay warm.)

Camping on Pacaya was a perfect way to end the week, and exactly what I’ve been needing. I was ready to get back to site, though, after a long week away; however, I was not excited for the 10+ hour trip. But it’s worth it to live in Chahal!

Back to Chahal

In Chahal, I was back to work right away. Tuesday was the day I’ve been planning for a couple months to reforest with the school that I’m teaching in. I was a little nervous because I left all the final details for my counterpart to work out, but he was on top of it. I was quite impressed!

Sadly, all the trees in the tree nursery I made with my students died. I don’t think I have a green thumb, because also, most of my vegetables in my garden have died. Only the squash and cucumber have survived. However, I blame it on the hot days and the pounding rain at night, plus the dogs that hopped the fence. Anyway, even though all the trees died, we had reserves in the municipal tree nursery. We brought the trees to the school and walked with the kids to the reserve. The mayor and the school superintendent showed up, among other “important people.” Each said a few words (everything is a big production here) and then we planted our trees. It turned out well.

That was the highlight of my week, though. I felt like I had lost some ground in my relationships in the muni after being gone for so long, which made going to the office not much fun. Then, worst of all, I learned that a neighbor from my childhood (who was basically a grandmother to me) passed away. Things like that are hard anywhere, but especially when I’m away from my family and everyone who knew her, and alone here without anyone to get a real hug from. It made me wish I had a site mate. I was ready to get out of here for the weekend to go hang out with other volunteers, but at the last minute I decided to stay. It’s a long, expensive trip, especially after having just traveled. Being here in Chahal, though, was exactly what I needed. Saturday I went to a beautiful farm with part of my host family and brought home a fish to eat. That night there was a dance, and on Sunday the whole family came over to my house for a huge lunch and invited me to join them. Then, that evening, we all went and played basketball. It was a perfect weekend and now I’m back to being in love with my site!

Now I’m off again for Antigua for some training sessions. Sunday, though, I’m running my next half marathon! Wish me luck!

To put some images with the descriptions, check out my facebook album:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2028411&l=68020&id=27500355

Pineapple Jam

One of my new projects is to support/work with the newly established Oficina de la Mujer (Office of the Woman). As women have found out that I will be helping, a lot have been asking for projects. Our first one was this week with the women’s association in San Jose. Ana, the woman in charge of the office, and I went to this community to teach them to make jam. We were given a ride in the ambulance (a dilapidated Jeep more or less) and told that when we want a ride home, we can hike a few minutes to find a signal to call. As we will see later, that didn’t work out so well.

We worked with 16 women, teaching them the whole process of making jam. The community grows pineapple, so that was a very cheap jam to make (and delicious). We cut up the pineapple while we boiled the jars, then started cooking the fruit. However, we encountered a little problem. For water to boil the jars in, the women had to walk about 15 minutes to the river to carry it back (they don’t have water in the town, or electricity for that matter). We had started boiling the first bit of water they brought back, but it wasn’t enough to cover all of the jars, so they went to get more. Obviously, though, it took them at least a half hour to bring it. When we added the cold water to the boiling water and hot jars, a few of the jars shattered. All the women freaked out and from that point didn’t think we should boil the jars. We got past that though. Overall, it went pretty well, and I really enjoyed meeting the women and getting to know the community.

We finished up around 1 p.m. While the jam was boiling in the jars, Ana and I went in search of a cell signal. Two little kids led us up a nearby hill. After about 5 minutes up there, I had enough signal for just a second to send a text message to the ambulance driver. However, the signal never came back to see if he could even come pick us up.

(Ana searching for a signal. I love the combination of Indigenous woman with a cell phone.)

We went back to the jam room where we chatted some more and took pictures with the finished product. While we were there, a microbus came and left to take people to San Fernando. Nobody bothered to tell us that it was leaving. Thus, we went in search of a signal again in a different location. No luck. Ana was getting very frustrated, but I have learned to just roll with it. I was relaxed, calm. It’s a beautiful place, no rush for me to leave.

Since we couldn’t find a signal and had no idea if or when we would get back to San Fernando, Ana and I went to the house of one of the women for eggs and tortillas. I was expecting a couple eggs, some beans and a plate full of tortillas. I received one hard-boiled egg and one tortilla. However, when the chicken stole half of my tortilla right off my lap, I did get a second one. I knew that the poverty was extreme here, but this was the first time I had really experienced it to this extent. And as a sidenote, when we walked into her house, we were greeted by the grandmother sitting in a hammock, topless, stoking the fire.

After we ate, I took a little cat nap in the hammock while the women chatted in Q’eqchi’. Around 3 p.m. we headed back to where the road passes to try our luck. We had perfect timing. Just as we found some nice shade to wait in, the ambulance pulled up to take us home.

(The community, San Jose)

I think this may become a weekly activity, heading out to communities to teach the women’s groups various things. Most people really don’t understand why I’m here, though. At the end of the afternoon, Ana was talking with them about what we (I) could teach them. All of the ideas were cooking-related. They want to learn to cook different foods (more than just eggs). I’m more than willing to do this, but I would also like to throw some environment in there, since that is my role here. I told her, yes, we can do that, but I would also like to teach them something about the environment, for example, how to make a compost pile (rather than just burning all of their organic waste). She translated that to them and that my job is planting vegetables. A little frustrating – that’s just my hobby – but I will teach them to plant a vegetable garden, considering their diets are highly lacking in the necessary vitamins and nutrients. But really, Ana is one of the people I talk to most, and she has no clue what I’m doing here! It happens a lot. For example, last Friday, I told another coworker in the muni that I was going to San Agustin that day to teach a class. She said something to the effect of, “Oh you’re going to go teach English?” “No,” I told her. Then I asked her what my job is here, trying to spark an idea in her. She was stumped. No clue. I finally had to tell her that my job is ecotourism, i.e. related to the environmental, and thus I would be teaching environmental education, and that my job in Chahal is not to teach English. She didn’t really seem that interested.

It’s a struggle, at all levels. The people I’m trying to help don’t want help in the area that I want to help in. And the people I need help from to do my job (a.k.a. the mayor), don’t put much interest in what I’m doing. Poco a poco (little by little). That’s the theme here with everything. Poco a poco I will become accustomed to life here; poco a poco I will learn Q’eqchi’; poco a poco I will start realizing projects.

My Garden

Yesterday I finished my garden! I was a little exhausted after nearly 7 hours straight of working in it, but it was well worth it. I began digging up the dirt last week, and at the beginning of this week I started planting. Before I even finished, those quick little radishes had already sprouted! In my cute little garden, I’ve got carrot, radish, cilantro, summer squash, cucumber, watermelon and acelga (not sure the English word, but some sort of leafy green) in the dirt trying to grow up to be big and strong to fill my tummy. To finish off the garden, I fenced it in to keep the stray chickens, dogs and pigs out, which was a lot more work than I had expected. After dinner, I watered it, not sure if the rains would come, but don’t you fret, they came. However, the tropical storm that is beating up the country has missed us. But I imagine that sometime during the rainy season, we will be inundated (literally). I just hope my garden is on high enough ground!

(The first part of my garden. It's much bigger now though and everything has sprouted!)

I’m very proud of my little garden – it’s my first. I’ve helped my parents some in the past, but this is the first time I’ve had my very own. I had a little help from the neighbor kids in stretching out the fencing, and just for some company. But I put in all the labor. It makes me quite happy, and it’s something to do that’s more worthwhile than watching TV. I’m reading Edward Abbey’s “Desert Solitaire” right now, and it could not be more perfect. He writes about reveling in the solitude and taking time to appreciate nature. I think that pretty much sums up my life right now. I decided that if I could talk with anyone, dead or alive, I would want to talk with Edward Abbey. I’d like to get converse with him, rather than just read his written word. However, this may be just because I’m reading his book right now; I’m sure it will change with the next good book I read!

(Not part of my garden, but beautiful flowers across the street that only bloom for a couple days each year, right after the first rain!)

And a little sidenote: I gave my first environmental education classes on Friday and loved it! It was pretty basic to start with: drawing pictures of what is in the environment, but that's just to get the ball rolling. I started out with an ice breaker of the human knot, which the kids got a kick out of. It's a fun secondary project, and I'm now doing something!

The Feria, continued

The rain ruined the feria. Torrential rains began on Thursday (tropical storm Alma) which caused them to cancel the rodeo, which was going to be the highlight of the week. But, even with the rains, basketball was not cancelled – kinda like track: rain or shine. Now you’re probably thinking that we were playing on an indoor court. Silly, silly you. The game was outside, with puddles all over the court. Basketballs don’t bounce very well in a couple inches of water, in case you were wondering. Also, Guatemalan women don’t know how to play basketball, yet they like to yell at me what I should be doing. They shoot the ball from their chest, play like maniacs and think it’s necessary that we cover our man even in the backcourt. Plus, the refs don’t know how to call the game right. Luckily, I can cuss in English and nobody can understand me. For example, when I went up for a shot and was clearly fouled, yet the ref gave the ball to them, I screamed, “Are you fucking kidding me?” Perhaps that wasn’t appropriate, but no one understood me and it calmed me down so that I didn’t knock someone over. I get a little competitive at times, in case you didn’t know.

We won our first game easily: they only scored one basket, yet the women I played with continued to backcourt press and take advantage of fast breaks. I eventually told the coach that we needed to play nicer.

The team was from Livingston, a mainly black town on the Caribbean coast which you can only reach by boat. I think I may go there this month with a new friend that I made in town yesterday. After the game we watched them perform some of their traditional folk dances. Later that evening, there was another dance. More creepy old men, more fighting, and thus me going home early. One of the creepy old men is a middle-aged Cuban doctor that will be living here in Chahal for two years as well. At first I thought, “Great, another foreigner to make friends with.” Plus he offered to cook Cuban food for my friend and I. Yeah, too bad he doesn’t just want to be friends with me. I’ve heard he’s been asking around if I have a boyfriend and if I go out alone at night. Maybe next time I see him I’ll tell him how much he reminds me of my father, see what he thinks of that! Yuck! (But don’t worry Dad, he really doesn’t remind me of you at all, I just want to get him away from me!)

Friday and Saturday were similar to Thursday: rain, basketball and dances. Except we lost these two games. I think I’m ready for a break from basketball. I skipped the dance on Friday, and Saturday was nothing special. Saturday morning, though, there was a procession for the patron Saint Fernando (who the feria is for). I dressed up in Indigenous dress for it. It was really fun having my friends dress me up in their clothes. There were about 4 women putting me together!

Sunday, though, was the highlight. There was a road race from San Fernando to San Agustin and back. I won. I was also the only female, but I beat a few of the guys also. I started out slow because I wasn’t exactly ready for another race yet. All the men took off, but eventually I reeled a few back in. I only picked it up the last few kilometers because I caught up to this guy that I really wanted to beat. Yet now I’m receiving texts from him about how much he loves me. Fantastic.

They say it was 14 km; I ran it in 1:08:52. They gave me a huge trophy and 100 Quetzales ($12). It was really fun. There was a big crowd at the finish and they had me give a speech! Everyone was so shocked that a girl was able to complete the race. One of my new projects is going to be starting a running/sports-in-general group with local girls. Hopefully I can get some of them ready to race in August in the next feria.

(Yup, that's a big-ass trophy in my hands!)
After the feria, life went back to normal, more or less. The rains have relinquished a bit, which is strange, because the rest of the country is getting beaten down by the storms. In time I’m sure it will happen to us too. One thing a bit abnormal, though, was the murder. On Saturday of the feria, a man died who had been shot in the neck two weeks prior while out at the bar in San Agustin (the town I used to live in). He had been in the hospital and in the end didn’t make it. No one really seems to know what the argument was about. Perhaps gang related. The man that died, plus another that was shot, are half brothers of my counterpart. The deceased also was the husband of one of my host sisters back in San Agustin. I never actually met him though, although I lived with the family. It’s quite sad for the families, yet at the same time, he was a drunk, didn’t work, and was somewhat abusive to his wife and five daughters. Not to sound too harsh, but perhaps, in the long run, it was for the better? But we won’t get into that now. And not too worry, this is a very rare occurrence here in Chahal, plus I don’t pass my time at the bars, so I’m not around where the problems are more likely to arise. Actually, I feel really safe here, and very content. I’ve been in site without leaving for a few weeks now, and honestly, have been immensely happier. Traveling four hours to hang out in Coban with other volunteers is just ridiculous. Yes, occasionally I’ll do it, but the less I go, the more I’ll appreciate each trip.

Feria and Other Anecdotes

With most of my experiences here in Guatemala, I end up trying to find an equivalent from home. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Here in Guatemala, each town has its own feria once a year to celebrate the patron saint of the town. While we don’t have that at home, back in Springfield we do have the Filbert Festival (hazelnuts to some of you). There’s a road race, an old car parade (I lack the proper English vocabulary at the point), music, and various booths set up throughout the park. Yeah, so that’s not quite what the feria is here in Chahal.

It started out last Thursday with the election of the Indigenous Queen. It was a beautiful event; very cultural. There were four contestants. They had to do the Baile del Venado (Dance of the Deer), show off their traje (indigenous clothing), and speak, among other things. My favorite won. (I liked her because she said that her aspiration is to be a doctor, which is damn big here.) Saturday was the election of the Señorita Chahal (Miss Chahal). Needless to say, it was not quite so cultural and I saw quite a bit more skin.

(Indigenous Queen)

Let’s back up to Friday. Foregoing my ecotourism duties for a morning, I went to the river with the contestants to be the photographer for their “photo shoot.” (Obviously it was a really big deal since I was the photographer.) Luckily, later I was able to go to the tree nursery with my counterpart for a bit.

The pageant was on Saturday for both the Señorita Chahal (ages 15 – 18) and the Reina Infantil (little girl queen). The pageant started with their “fantasy wear.” Basically, they wore bikinis with wings and/or huge head dressings. Then was some dancing, swimwear and evening wear (little girls and senoritas alike). It was the epitome of strictly a beauty pageant – no talent, no intellectual aspect. Well, I suppose they did have to give their “message” to the audience and answer a question at the end, but I wouldn’t call the responses intellectual. My favorite was when one was asked how she would promote/market Las Conchas (my park) so that more people would come. Her answer, “I would make it available to men and women.” Okay, great, but how? So maybe I’m being a bit judgmental, but with this pageant they’re not helping to improve the woman’s place in society here.

(She's 8 years old)

On top of all that, what intrigues me is how divided the community is. For the Indigenous Queen pageant, only other indigenous people came to watch, and the same with Señorita Chahal, only other ladinos. Although I guess it makes sense, people gravitate toward what they know, what is comfortable.

The official feria started on Wednesday with the parade. (Other major events, or realizations more so, took place between Saturday and Wednesday, but those are stories for later.) The parade wasn’t shocking by any means. The queens were in front, followed by the local authorities (me included!), then some military school that knows how to count to 8 really well (and backward too!), followed by all the local schools. The governor of Alta Verapaz even came to help us inaugurate the feria. When we all went to lunch, I asked for a picture with her because she’s dang cool. She’s a college-educated Indigenous woman as governor!

(La Gubernadora and I. I love that she is in her Indigenous traje with me wearing a Bazooka t-shirt. I wasn't quite expecting to be in a parade when I got dressed in the morning!)

(Aura and I in the parade. I imagine she will become one of my best friends here: she has no boyfriend, no husband, no kids, is studying at the university on the weekends, and wants to be my friend.)

(Yes siree, they can count to 8 forward AND backward!)

After a break mid-day to start my compost pile, I went to the basketball and volleyball games with my neighbors. The games were terrible, but I bought a sno-cone, so it was okay. The volleyball game was just ridiculous. It was a men’s game (here it’s a men’s sport). When they couldn’t get to the ball with their hands in time, they would kick it! And what’s more, the refs allowed it! I wanted to go up to them and explain that it’s like the opposite of soccer – only feet in soccer versus only hands in volleyball. Today and Saturday I get to play basketball, and I’m super excited! The last time I played on a team was freshman year in high school when we went 0 – 21. I’m hoping to improve on that.

Wednesday night was the first dance of the week, but it was not quite what I had hoped for. Hopefully the following three will be better. This first one started three hours late and then it was mainly only drunk guys, plus the two paid dancers (who might as well have been strippers). What disappointed me is that no one was just dancing on their own – only partners. Personally, I prefer to dance on my own with my own space if I’m not comfortable with any of the guys, but that was just not an option. I danced with middle-aged men, which was not fun. But at least I got a couple beers out of it (I never thought I’d be able to drink in site). We left early, though, because a big fight started and we didn’t really care to be a part of it.

While I was at this dance, I was trying to compare it to the Filbert Festival. What I came up with was one year when my brother, sister and I walked down to the park where a local folk band was playing. Some people were sprawled out in the grass, others were dancing and others were just enjoying the atmosphere. Nobody was being molested, nobody was fighting, and there were no near-strippers. Yeah, not quite the same.

I know that I shouldn’t even attempt to compare here and there, but sometimes I can’t help it; my mind often wanders. The differences can be quite interesting in some situations, but in others, it’s just too different to even be worth comparing. Don’t try to interpret my feria commentary as something negative. I love experiencing the feria, I just tend to be a bit sarcastic at times, and even more so now because I can’t let my sarcasm out with Guatemalans (they don’t get it, they just think I’m a bitch).

The feria continues through the weekend, so I’ll be sure to write about the rest of it. As I said, there will be more sporting events, the highlight of which will be the “marathon.” They call every road race in Guatemala a marathon, but this one is actually 13 km (oddly). It’s on Sunday and there’s prize money. Seeing as I may be the only female racing, I plan to earn a bit this weekend. Other exciting events will include a couple more parades (one of which I’m going to dress in Indigenous traje for), lots of rodeo action, and of course, more dances!


Sidenote

As most of you know, I have asked for emails. I need to specify a bit though. I’m not looking for a, “Hey what you’re doing is really cool;” I’m looking for a, “So this is what’s going on in my life,” even if it’s just every day details like going to the grocery store or coffee shop, because those have become foreign experiences to me and thus find them extremely interesting.

Also, don’t feel bad if I write you more than you write me. I do have a bit of time on my hands here. I would like to say that I’m so immersed in experiencing the culture that I don’t have time to write, but in reality it’s that I’m so immersed in experiencing the culture that I do have time to write. Life is laid back here. People relax, spend time with their families, watch t.v. Seeing as I don’t really care to watch t.v. and my family isn’t here, that leaves me with plenty of time for reading, writing, gardening and soon, playing with my new puppy. Although I’d like to travel more, that’s really not what Peace Corps wants of us, which makes sense. A lot of volunteers leave their sites quite regularly and travel/party with other volunteers, but I’d like to say I’m choosing to become a part of my community. I could also say that I live way to far away to travel that often and that I want to save money, but I like the first choice best. Really, I have two years to travel, but I think it’s really important to establish myself here in Chahal at the beginning of my service to become recognized as part of the community. Later (when you come to visit me) I’ll go experience what the rest of Guatemala has to offer.



Almuerzo para la Siembra

Some things are just said more simply in Spanish. More or less in English, this was a lunch to celebrate the planting of this year’s crops and to thank all of those who helped. The mayor and some of us from the muni were invited to partake as well. Of course, everyone spoke in Q’eqchi’, but I’m learning little by little and it’s fun to shock them with the gringa speaking a bit of their language.

It was a very special event to me. I feel honored to be included in such cultural experiences, especially when I’m invited into these people’s homes to share their food with them. To set the scene for you, I was the only woman in the room (since the meal was to thank those who worked in the field), but they welcomed me nonetheless. There were about 30 of us seated around the walls of the room on a low bench and the meal was placed at our feet on the dirt floor.

The traditional dish in Chahal for any important event is caldo (soup), which has been a problem for me. Soup’s never been my favorite, but I don’t hate it, except for this one. It’s just bad, but little by little, I’m learning to eat it. I can eat the chicken out of it just fine, but the broth doesn’t sit so well in my stomach, however, I feel terrible not eating the food that these people so generously have provided for me. In this lunch, though, I did much better. I didn’t grimace and I finished nearly all of it. The next step though, is to learn to eat it gracefully. It’s typically eaten without silverware, and I end up leaving with my fingers and face covered in a rust color (the color of the broth), but somehow everyone else leaves spotless. I am baffled.

The other amazing part of this meal was one of the people I met. He is a man who is over 100 years old, yet still is out working in the field. That’s an incredible age to live to in any society, and exceedingly so in rural Guatemala. It’s obvious that the reason he is still going strong is because he is out in the field working. I was able to speak with him for a moment, which was very humbling. Although we couldn’t really communicate, I managed to say a few greetings and thank you; I’m not sure what he said, though.

I really enjoy going out to the rural communities and meeting the people. Even if I can’t converse with them, I love being welcomed into their lives, albeit only for a little bit. I really need to commit to studying Q’eqchi’ in my spare time or else I’m never going to get a grasp on it, and it would help me so much here to integrate better.