Fotos from México

Here are a handful of photos from my week in México. If you read my post about the trip, you'll get a better context for them. I'll put more on facebook too.


Mezcal factory in Oaxaca


View of the Monte Alban ruins in Oaxaca


Julio and I at the Palenque ruins in Chiapas


Cañon del Sumidero, Chiapas


Agua Azul, Chiapas -- reminded me a bit of Las Conchas, but on a much larger scale


"Vive y deja vivir" -- "Live and let live" Lupita sure is a smart lady!


Loved the colors in San Cristobal!


Julio hanging out with the Zapatistas in San Cristobal de Las Casas


Big huge Mexican flag


My first view of México... gorgeous!

Latrines

The other day I made this statement to a friend:

"I prefer latrines over toilets because you can toss the toilet paper in."

Then I thought for a second and realized I would've never ever made a comment like that two years ago! My how my perspective has changed!

México

My first attempt at crossing a border by land was an adventure. In an airport, it’s so simple and straightforward. You can’t escape without your stamps. Not true at the Guatemala-Mexico border at La Mesilla.

After a couple hours on a chicken bus, a tuk-tuk (motorized rick-shaw) took me the remaining kilometer to the border. There, I walked beneath the large “Bienvenidos a México” sign, climbed onto a bus and off I went. The Mexican town was 4 kilometers down the road, so I figured that was where we would all pass through Immigration. Nope. We kept on driving down the road.

I asked the driver to stop. “Perdón, Señor, I think I need a stamp in my passport.”

“Really? Okay, if you want one of those, you have to walk back over there.”

He got my backpack out and drove off.

The passport-stamper looked through my passport and coldly told me that I needed the stamp for leaving Guatemala. “But nobody stopped me and told me to get one.” He didn’t care. “Go back to the Guatemalan side and get one.” So I hopped on a bus, re-crossed the border, again without anyone stopping me, got my stamp, and then came back to get the Mexican stamp.

It was good that I made the extra effort to get the stamps, because once I was on the road in México, Immigration stopped our bus at least 5 times. Though they didn’t really care about me, they were looking for Guatemalans that were trying to cross illegally. At one point, they took two off and the bus left them behind.

My destination was San Cristobal de Las Casas, Chiapas, where Julio and I planned to meet up on Wednesday and explore the state for a week. He, however, didn’t show up until Thursday morning, leaving me worrying. Typical Julio.

This was my first time in México. I was expecting it to be similar to Guatemala, but it was much cleaner and more organized. I felt safer there too.

Anyway, we explored San Cristobal a bit, learned about the Zapatista rebellion, then headed to the Mayan ruins in Palenque. Strangely, it was cheaper to use a tour agency than public transportation. They took us first to Agua Azul, which is a huge series of waterfalls much like my beloved Las Conchas, but bigger. The driver gave us an hour there. When we were all ten minutes late, he yelled at and told us that next time he would leave us behind. At Misol-Ha, another cool waterfall, we had 40 minutes. This is why I don’t like organized tours: you can’t take time to appreciate the place. I would’ve loved to have a picnic and go for a swim. Next we had 2 hours in Palenque. It’s very similar to Tikal: Mayan ruins tucked away in the jungle. All very cool, just rushed.

The next day we took a boat tour of the Cañon del Sumidero, which is a beautiful Canyon with walls 200 meters high at some points. It used to be a raging river, but now, as in many places, it is a reservoir that was created by a large hydroelectric dam. At some places it is now more than 200 meters deep. The guide casually told us that the town of Usumacinta was relocated. No big deal, right? Gotta love dams.

We decided to move on from Chiapas to Oaxaca since we saw most everything we wanted to in just a couple days. We had 2 ½ days in Oaxaca, which definitely was not enough. It is a very diverse state with respect to both nature and culture, thus I will have to return one day. During the time we had there, we went to the “Mezcal capital of the world” and saw how they make the famous artisan alcohol from maguey plants. We visited Monte Alban, the first urban settlement in Mesoamerica. And of course, we ate lots of food, as Oaxaca’s cuisine is delicious (including grasshoppers, a delicacy there).

Tuesday night I made the long trip back to Guatemala: a12 hour overnight bus ride from Oaxaca to Tapachula, another border crossing, plus about 4 hours of travel back to my site from the border. The border crossing was again interesting but not because of passport stamps. Before crossing the border, there was a handful of men with wads of Guatemalan money so that travellers could change their pesos to quetzales. I already had quetzales, but some Canadians that I had started travelling with needed to change their money. We were about to when some guy got pissed because they gave him a poor rate, threatened to call the cops, then the money-changers punched him in the face. So we left and I lent them Q100 until we found an ATM.

This trip was a much needed respite from my projects. I have been driving myself crazy worrying about how I am going to manage to finish everything in just four months. So I told myself that on this trip I would not think about Peace Corps. Plus, Julio wasn’t going to want to hear me talk about that. Thus it was a very peaceful, tranquil week. And it made me really excited for my travels next year when I really won’t have any commitments to worry about nor my whereabouts to report to Peace Corps … I’ll only have to report my whereabouts to my mom!

p.s. I'll put pictures up within the next couple of days.

Agua Caliente

It's only been two weeks since I last wrote, yet a lot has happened that I want to share! I just got back from México today, but I will save that for another post.

Before I left last week, I went to Agua Caliente to present the Reglamento de Manejo de Desechos Sólidos (Solid Waste Management Regulations) for the sanitary landfill and trash collection to the community and to train the leaders about the program. It went really well! The project is moving along.

(The center of the village. No wonder I love this community! There's even a bit of a night life -- jovenes playing in the pools, people eating street food, etc.)

My friend Sarah (a Healthy Schools PCV) went with me to help give the training. I've never really planned and executed my own one before, so it was nice to have the assistance. And she fell in love with the community, which made me fall even more in love with it. It's a very rural village of 1000 people, but only about 500 in the center. The people are very involved, and very warm and friendly, but that could be due to the hot-spring-fed pools that they have in the center of town! I should just go live there... they're free for community-use.

(Sarah helping me teach the 4Rs)

Anyway, the community meeting was successful. We paired my presentation with the election of the community mayor for 2010, thus many people showed up. However, they were all men. Apparently, women are not allowed to vote, or at least that's what we were told. I think that it's actually due to the machismo in the community: the women are just expected to stay in the home. It's really sad, but through my project, I'm trying to increase the female participation.

(Discussion of the Reglamento. Don Meme was very animated in favor of it.)

We read and discussed the 6 page Reglamento, then it was approved. Simple. On Monday, eight leaders (1 woman, 7 men -- better than the election) joined us to learn about the project and how to teach "Reduce-Reuse-Recycle," composting, and the ins-and-outs of the Reglamento to the community members. I was hoping for more, but those that were there all participated, so maybe it was better. Quality over quantity. These leaders will start working with their neighbors on the themes and I'll be going back on December 2nd to train others and hopefully to dig out the trench for the landfill.

The mayoral election was intriguing. The candidates were nominated by the community that afternoon based on who hadn't served yet. It's a requirement that everyone serves as mayor twice in his lifetime. Those that were nominated, protested against it, while everyone else gave speeches in favor of them, thus diverting the attention from themselves. Eventually they settled on two men (they take turns -- one month on, one off). Everyone was content, except for those men! I commented that Obama won the presidency in the exact same way, which made them all laugh. Humor is so easy here.

At the moment, this is my favorite project because everyone is so involved and excited about it. The trail, for example, is lacking involvement from the group. I felt guilty going on vacation this past week because we were supposed to have contracted laborers to finish the trail. Found out upon my return today that nothing happened! I'm glad I didn't skip México for the trail!

Check me out in the Register Guard!

If you've stumbled upon my blog for the first time today because of my essay in the Register Guard, thanks for the interest! If you're one of my regular readers, then check out my piece in today's paper (11-04-09): http://www.registerguard.com/csp/cms/sites/web/opinion/21394417-47/story.csp.

I'd like to mention again about the project that I am working on the community of Las Cerezas, here in my Guatemalan town: the construction of a classroom with recycled materials (plastic bottles and inorganic trash). The complete description is at this previous blog post: http://audreysquires.blogspot.com/2009/09/novel-idea-for-trash-and-request.html.

If you are able and willing to donate to help us reach our goal of $2830, here is how you can do so:

Send a check to:

Friends of Guatemala ● P.O. Box 33018 ● Washington, D.C. 20033

*IMPORTANT* Make sure to put on the memo line of the check: “Audrey Squires – Cat. II”, otherwise your donation will go to the general scholarship fund.

Thanks for your support!

Also, I forgot to mention earlier, but FOG is an NGO with a 501c3 status, thus donations are tax-deductible.

Caballos Borrachos -- Todos Santos

This past weekend was another adventure to remember beginning, of course, with the bus ride to the destination.

On the ride down the mountain, feeling a little queasy, I put on my iPod and shut my eyes for a bit instead of reading my book. Half asleep, I was awoken by shouting and looked up to see all the passengers that had been standing in the aisles (at least 25), duck down. Not having heard what was said, I assumed that the driver had seen someone ahead that was going to shoot at the bus, which is not outside the realm of possibility considering all the gangster extortionists that work the route. I was frightened, especially since I had chosen to sit up front. How do you hide from a bullet? Luckily, my guess was wrong. We rolled passed some cops and it all became clear: the cops actually enforce passenger limits, thus the sudden ducking of the passengers to avoid a fine for the driver.

The long journey continued. I had estimated no more than 5 hours, including waiting, to reach Todos Santos (less than 90 miles away). It took 7. The details are typical: road blocks, weather, waiting, sketchy mountain-side roads.

Although I had been to the town of Todos Santos Cuchumutanes, Huehuetenango before (and almost lived in one of its villages), I had not been for the major show. As its name suggests, the feria of Todos Santos coincides with el Día de Todos los Santos (All Saints Day). It's a cool place to visit on a normal day with the beautiful mountains and the women and men both wearing the typical indigenous clothes from the town. The feria, however, is something you can't miss, particularly the horse races, which are especially famous because the riders are drunk. Many refer to the event as the "drunken horse races," however, it has a very interesting past that makes it more culturally appealing.

When the Spaniards were exploring the Sierra de los Cuchumutanes (probably in the 1500s or 1600s), they would leave their horses in the care of the local people of Todos Santos, but with the warning that if they were to ride them, they would die. So for years the locals took good care of the horses and never rode them, until one day, a man decided to test the warning. He told his family he was going to steal a horse and ride it around town, proving to all that the Spaniards were lying to them and taking advantage of them. The family, afraid for the man's life, pleaded with him not to. But he told them not to worry, if he were to die, he would at least go down as a hero. Moreover, he decided to perform the feat drunk. The man did become a hero, but not by dying. He successfully rode through town that night (drunk) and lived to prove to his people that the Spaniards were cheating them.

From that night evolved the current event that takes place during the feria, where a handful of men pay to ride horses (ironically, rented from non-indigenous people) all day long on November 1st. There aren't individual races and winners, it is more of an endurance event.

So really, it's a story of rebellion and an activity in commemoration of that, not simply men stupidly risking their lives to ride horses while drunk.

The rumor that the race continues until someone dies or is seriously injured (which is an honor) proved true this year. Around 4:30pm, one of the riders, too drunk to stay on his horse, fell to the side, too close to the fence, and wrapped his neck around a post. (Luckily, I did not see this.) Believed to be dead, people started shaking him. A friend of mine who's well-trained in first aid/CPR ran down to check on him, found his pulse, and convinced his compañeros that he needed a doctor immediately. After the incident, the races were suspended, leaving us to explore the cemetery, ride the ferris wheel and go to the local dance.

Monday morning leaving town was another adventure. A volunteer that lives in Todos Santos hooked us up with a house for the weekend for Q30 ($3.75) each per night. When I tried to pay the owners on my way out, the crazy old man who lives there locked us all in the ran up to where people were still sleeping and starting yelling at them to pay while beating them with his large stick. He seemed to fear that we were trying to cheat him out of Q900, clearly not understanding that the volunteer from there had collected everyone's money and was going to pay him shortly. Eventually I escaped and met up with my friends at the comedor who had snuck out before the jail beating.

The last bus for the early morning was leaving at 7:30 a.m., with the next one not leaving until 11 a.m., i.e. EVERYONE wanted on the 7:30. The bus driver, trying to make a few extra Q, squeezed close to 50 people on a 25-seater bus, which made the steep hills difficult. Half the bus had to exit and walk at least 4 times on the way up the mountain. And due to the cramped quarters, a handful decided to ride on the luggage rack, which later got the driver a Q100 fine when we were heading down the other side of the mountain into Huehue.

I wonder: what's travel like in the States?

Stay tuned for the next adventure: a week in Chiapas with Julio! We're meeting up next Wednesday!

Guate Halloween #2

As promised, here are some pictures of an always hilarious, Peace Corps Halloween.

The theme for our party was "Superheroes and Supervillains," but I had already found this wedding dress in my market for Q5 (63 cents), so I went as the token damsel in distress. I also had brief weddings with Super Mario, Batman and the Aspiring Guatemalan Narco.

We celebrate early here because Halloween weekend is an important local holiday: Dia de Todos los Santos, or All Saints' Day. Most volunteers want to spend the day with their local families having a picnic in the cemetery or take advantage of the long weekend to travel. Last year I stayed in Chahal for the weekend and went to a lunch at a family's finca (ranch) out by the river. But this weekend I'm heading out to Todos Santos, Huehuetenango for their big celebration of the day, which is marked by the horse races (where the riders are typically drunk, thus is dubbed "the drunken horse races").

Visiting Todos Santos during it's feria is something I've been wanting to do since I came to Guatemala. And now it's time to make sure I do everything on my list!

-------------------------------

Today was a great day. After feeling down the last couple of days -- alone, useless, not in the right place -- today I had a fantastic day (it really is true that in the Peace Corps you can go from your lowest low to your highest high in a blink of an eye). My counterpart and I went out to Agua Caliente (where we're building the sanitary landfill) and worked with a group of TWELVE community leaders to define the regulations of the solid waste management system that we're implementing! That's a big step on the way to a successful implementation of this project! Then, on the 8th, we're going to have a community meeting to approve it and to elect a committee to be in charge of the project.

I was feeling worried that these last 5 months would pass and I wouldn't finish my projects but, for the moment, they seem to be rolling along well. It also looks like we'll finish the trail and the park infrastructure before I leave! Actually, next month! The NGO is giving us money to contract 10 laborers to get it done in 2 weeks!! Plus, for the used tire retaining wall that we're building, the school (on their own) has collected more than 500 tires! And for the bottle school, we're still working away filling bottles, but I continue getting reports about more donations. In about two weeks I'll receive another deposit, so we'll see how close we are!

This is all a big sigh of relief because I don't feel like extending my service... I have exciting plans for April and beyond! And I have cool trips that I want to do to use up my remaining vacation days... like Mexico in 2 weeks!!!

It's crunch time!

I'm back to site after a week away in Antigua and Coban. It wasn't quite a vacation, thus I'll be taking one of those in a few weeks hopefully. The next few weeks until then will be used to make sure that my projects get off the ground. (And that I don't take on anymore! Stop overcommitting yourself, Audrey!) I turned in our proposal for a sanitary landfill in the village of Agua Caliente last week, so now I must start training them in proper trash management before we build it in January.

The construction of the bottle room probably won't happen until January as well because we still lack enough funds and bottles. (If you haven't donated yet, please consider it!! http://audreysquires.blogspot.com/2009/09/novel-idea-for-trash-and-request.html.)

The trail is a constant theme, but something that I work on as I am able to. It's going to be a larger theme in the service of the next volunteer simply due to the phase we're in now (basic construction) and the phase we'll be in next year (designing the interpretative signs, among other things). But tomorrow I am hosting some expert birders to do a diagnostic of the potential of bird tourism here. Should be pretty cool.

Then, of course, we still have pending the construction/implementation of a recycling center.

I think that's enough with just over FIVE months left. I cannot take on anything else if I don't want to extend my service. (Which I still may have to do depending mainly on the progress of the bottle room and the landfill.) I basically won't get anything done in December with feria and a trip home. So really, I have about 4 months to start and finish these projects. Thanks Site Change. You've made my life stressful!

*Next post will be more exciting with pictures of awesome Halloween costumes from our party last weekend*

Aviso: Cantinas abren a las 10 a.m.

This morning while walking around town, there was a group of men standing around waiting on a random street. Strange. Even one sitting on the curb sleeping in the sun (kind of normal, but always funny). Then a door opened and they rushed inside. That's when I noticed the sign on the building: "CANTINA."

So in case you ever come to Sija and need a drink, the cantina opens at 10 a.m. FYI.

Projects update

The bottle school project is coming along. I visited the community today where they have about 1000 bottles filled. I dropped off 9 of my own. -- Last night the power went out, so after making a delicious dinner in the dark, I filled bottles by candlelight. Quite an exciting evening. Ideally we will start building in November, but it depends on how quickly the remaining bottles are filled and the funds roll in. We will likely end up building in January. (Nothing happens here in December due to the feria, Christmas and the New Year.)

(Some of the school's bottles)

(My bottles. Aren't they pretty? I was kind of sad to turn them in today. I'm also a dork.)

This week I will finish the proposal for another project: a small community-sized sanitary landfill for the village Agua Caliente. We will begin environmental education and training this month, the trench will be dug out next month, and in January we will line it with plastic, build the cement tank for liquid run-off, and place the trash cans around town. Piece of cake! Right? I hope so!

The trail continues to be a theme in my life. Last week we brought the final middle school for the year up to build trail. (School ends this month.) They did a great job, but we still have a ways to go. Everytime we bring kids up to work on the trail, it makes me wonder about child labor concerns. Just kidding! They're learning to about ecotourism and will better appreciate the trail when they use it in the future. But I do sometimes ponder on it when I am supervising a dozen kids working away with hoes and machetes just for a snack.

In another school we're looking at building a retaining wall out of used tires. This project, however, I am trying to distance myself from a bit... I only have 5 1/2 months left. I should not over-commit myself! (Me, over-commit myself? Never!) As well with an environmental summer camp that I've been planning with the librarian. I would love to do it, but I just don't know if I have time.

I talk of being almost done, yet sometimes it seems like I have a long time left! Such are the ups and downs of Peace Corps. Luckily my ankle is treating me relatively well and thus can be active again (mainly biking, hiking, lifting rocks and jump roping, but I am slowly incorporating in running and soccer, plus a new one -- karate/self-defense classes right here in Sija!), otherwise I would be miserable!

Playing with Bees

You would think I would have learned my lesson in high school when on two different occassions I was stung on my face by bees. Both stings resulted in ginormous swollen lips. The first sting resulted from playing with a bee's nest during cross country practice freshman year. After pulling out a stick that a teammate had shoved in it so that my dad/coach wouldn't see that we had disobeyed him, they swarmed me. One caught my lower lip. I was going to hide it from my dad until it became so large that that was impossible. Amazingly, though, I ran a fantastic race the next day. I wonder if bee stings are a form of doping? Anyway, the second one wasn't my fault. I was just running down the bike path by Autzen Stadium and out of nowhere, a bee flew into my upper lip. Lucky me, team pictures were the next day.

Take that into account as I tell you about my day.

I was sitting in the office working away when Don Armando rushed in and frantically started telling me about bees and cows and dogs. I was lost and asked him what he wanted me to do. Since I am "la encargada de medio ambiente" (the one in charge of the environment), he wanted me to come see the bees that had attacked these animals to determine what species it was. I told him that I'm not a bee expert. He told me to come anyway, that maybe I could help. Might as well, I thought, it'll get me out of the office.

We hopped into the truck and drove up the mountain. Along the way we picked up a semi-hysterical girl who had been stung by the bees. Once we got to the house it was clear to me that I was of no help. There were bees everywhere; the owner of the house had a least a dozen swarming around his head. The men went at the bees with brooms, buckets of water and Raid. I got out for awhile but then thought better of it and went to wait in the truck.

Supposedly one dog had already died from all the stings and the cow was in pretty bad shape after being stung by "thousands." The men walked the cow down the hill and dumped water on her. Intrigued, I cautiously opened my window and watched at a safe distance... or so I thought. Ten minutes passed by uneventully sitting there reading my book. Then BAM. A bee flew in fast, straight to my face and stung me in the cheek. I just laughed at myself. When will I ever learn? Not even solely with respect to bees, I just like to put myself in dangerous situations. That's what adventure is though, right?

Luckily my face didn't swell up this time, although it could be a great look to fend off creepsters that like to whistle at me.

Futbol

Back to playing soccer with my co-workers today. It was clear that even with how much I've already played with them, they are not used to having a woman around as they all were stripping down to their whitey-tighties right there next to me. I did my best to keep my eyes forward. That is not something I care to see! But eventually I got up and did laps around the field while waiting... my ankle felt great!! First time that I've had a full stride since June! Of course then, in the game, I tweaked my good ankle and am now limping again. Maybe I should stay away from sports with balls. (Even though I scored a picturesque goal!)

I'm Superwoman. Street food cannot harm me.

Yesterday, after a lovely hike to Laguna Chicabal, I got back to my site craving street food. A woman I know sells pupusas (corn tortillas filled with cheese and/or chicharon (fried pig skin)) but only on Saturdays, so I was stoked. Sadly, though, no one brought her chicharon, so she didn't make them. I would've been more than pleased with just cheese pupusas (actually, preferrable), but she didn't make those either.

Instead she made empanadas: cheese, apple and some milk thing. I went for cheesy and was told it'd be 5 minutes. To kill time, Patita and I strolled through the park (where she pooped, how embarrassing!). When we came back, she was still making them, so we chatted about the murders reported in the newspaper while I waited. I got less and less excited about my empanada as I waited, though.

She and her children who were helping her were coughing and wiping their noses. Then she said to someone, "Como me esta afectando la fiebre." Translation: "This fever is really affecting me." Crap, I thought, I am for sure getting sick from this. Last time I had pupusas (in another town) I ended up with amoebas. But I don't learn. At this point it was too late to cancel my order so I cringed as I continued watching them make my food. When it was served to me, I ate it. It would've been rude otherwise. Food is a very sensitive subject in this country.

Turns out, it was pretty delicious and I just thought about that as I ate it.

I was fully expecting to be throwing up with diarrhea today, but *knock on wood* I am feeling healthy, and, typically, food-borne illnesses hit within 24 hours (I should know). Thus, I am superwoman. On another note, the neighbor boys call me "superchica" because I can turn tires inside out.

Feliz cumple Guate!!

Sitting here on my balcony watching the lightning flash while the sun sets over the distant mountains is the perfect end to a wonderfully fulfilling holiday weekend. And Sija is refreshingly tranquil after spending the past day and a half in Xela for the culmination of Guatemala’s Independence Day weekend.

I’ve been needing a little escape from life in my site recently. With the pressure of getting projects started and finished at the same time as my Close of Service date draws nearer (now just 6 ½ months left!) and strains that still linger from integrating into a new site, the break was quite welcome. It started with an 80s Prom Party with other PCVs on Friday night. I love dressing up in ridiculous costumes, plus it was great to see some friends I hadn’t seen for awhile.

Saturday morning Judy and I set off to the beach, but not to just any old sunny, warm, tourist-magnet. We went to Theo’s site (Hawaii) where he lives beach-front in a small village and works in the nearby turtle rescue center/hatchery and on mangrove restoration projects. The long trip (8 hours when we expected 6) was well worth it.

Saturday evening we enjoyed a barefoot walk down the beach to a potluck at Theo's park. I was only expecting food, but we were lucky to see and hold newly-hatched sea turtles. Once they woke up, we released them onto the beach and watched them race into the ocean. (Turtles don’t wake up until about an hour after they hatch.) We released around 40, but the survival rate is only 1 out of 1000! As the waves swept up the little tortugas, I felt scared for them. What a journey they are embarking on! We also helped dig nests in the hatchery and bury the newly collected eggs so that they will be more protected than just on the beach.

Theo and I woke up before sunrise the next morning to take the kayaks into the mangrove forest. We weaved our way through the narrow paths for about 30 minutes then popped out into a beautiful lagoon. We were rewarded for our early-rising with great bird watching, including the spotting of two different parrot species! (Pictures below: kayaking through the path of the mangroves; entering the lagoon; the lagoon; and, if you look closely, parrots on the branch)

Later in the day we played in the ocean, battling the huge waves. While Theo took Judy kayaking in the evening, I spent some quality one-on-one time with the sea. The ocean is something that truly amazes and inspires me every time I visit it. Sitting on the beach watching the sunset over the breaking waves is as close as I get to church.

(Beachfront-cemetery)

Monday morning we woke up early (4 a.m.) so that we could catch the direct bus out of Hawaii; rather than having to take six buses and a boat, it dropped the number to just three buses. Although I didn’t want the trip to be so short, I also wanted to spend Monday night in Xela. September 15th marks the independence of all of Central America and is Xela’s feria (because it was its own country for two years), so it was the place to be last night. Parades, street food, a concert, dancing, good friends. It was the best night out I’ve had in a long time; perhaps the best I’ve had in Guatemala.

Parades: Guatemalans love their desfiles. We tried to cross one during a gap in order to get into the park and were very much hated for that.

Street food: We discovered the best street food Guatemala has to offer: crepes on a stick filled with NUTELLA (a rare delicacy) and pulled pork/guacamole sandwiches.

Concert: Malacates, an awesome Guatemalan rock band, played for free. We were lucky to squeeze into a good spot in the crowd. It might have been the best concert I’ve ever been to (although I haven’t been to many).

Dancing: Discos promised to be open until 6 a.m. to celebrate the nation’s birth, thus Sarah and I were determined to keep on dancing until the sun rose, something I rarely do. There was such an energy the whole night that I didn’t even feel the time pass. Although by the time I climbed into my bed at six, my legs were feeling all the dancing that I had put them through!

I decided that I am leaving no regrets here and am committed to fully experiencing everything these last six months have to offer, be it dancing until dawn, traveling to places I haven’t yet been to, or forcing myself to have the awkward interactions with people in my town so that I can feel better integrated. I’ve done a good job thus far, but the last six months are like the kick at the end of a race: I may tire myself out, but that’s better than the regrets of squandering my experience.

This morning we rolled out of bed after three hours of sleep to watch the big parade then check out the feria. The feria was a lot like going to a county fair, but much more crowded, crazy and disorderly. I rode a ride called “The Inverter” which was definitely a bit sketchy but worth the thrill. Then we had just enough time to get some 3 for Q10 tacos and another Nutella-filled crepe-on-a-stick before we jumped onto our respective buses to head back to our sites.

Although I am clearly counting down the months until my Peace Corps adventure ends, that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to be done. In a lot of ways, yes, I am longing to move on: I miss home – family, friends and the lifestyle; I’ve become restless, ready for a new adventure; and I miss my experience that I had in Chahal so much that it still makes it tough to want to be in Sija sometimes. But I also realized this weekend how much I will truly miss this country and the experiences that I have here. I came to this realization on my bus ride home from the beach. It was a typical trip: driving that could kill; brief friendships made with fellow passengers; questionable food from vendors; bus repairs; delays for parades on the highway. But as the bus sped madly down the coastal highway with an amazing view of the cordillera of volcanoes (I think I saw nine volcanoes in a 3 hour period), I realized how much I truly love my life here. Despite whatever hardships may arise, there is no question that I will miss Guatemala when I leave here. The countdown is fun, but trust me, I will not just be killing time while I flip the next seven pages on my calendar.

A novel idea for trash and a request

1After nearly two years of living in Guatemala as a Peace Corps volunteer, I've learned that I prefer social and environmental work over construction projects. That said, I've also seen the environmental damage trash causes in this part of the world. Here in San Carlos Sija, we burn our trash or throw it into a ravine. Neither option is good.

But finding an alternative for the trash is challenging. Recycling is largely restricted to the capital due to transport issues. I would love to establish a sanitary landfill, but it is extremely costly and requires teaching people to use it correctly and setting up and maintaining a trash collection system. Out of 334 municipalities in Guatemala, there are just one or two that have sanitary landfills. Some have trash collection, but then after collection simply throw it in a ravine, the river, or off the side of the road.

There is a solution that combines the need for both environmental projects and infrastructure projects: building with plastic bottles full of inorganic trash. It is something that has been implemented in various places throughout Guatemala. The idea was born with the NGO Pura Vida (http://www.puravidaatitlan.org/english.html), who named the bottles “eco-ladrillos” (eco-bricks).

I have personally participated in some of these construction projects and can tell you it clearly works. Last year, a PCV built a two-room school house with her community in Uspantan, el Quiche. I traveled to her site to learn about and help in the construction process. Wood is used for the frame, then the bottles are placed between chicken wire, and three layers of cement is spread on both sides of the wall to protect the bottles; the roof is corrugated tin. (See attached photo.) In the end, the school cost around $4,500 whereas the typical school out of concrete blocks costs approximately $18,750. (You can see the complete process in photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/sarahscott8/BottleSchoolInGuatemala.)

With these projects, there is the obvious benefit of cleaning up the community. Also, this style of construction meets needs with less expense and gets community members, from school children to grandparents, involved in the building process. I truly believe that in the proceeding years, we will see many more of these projects implemented, thus cleaning up the environment and saving money to be able to carry out more projects of a more diverse nature.

But for the people to truly believe it here, they need to see it. So before I finish my Peace Corps tenure in April, I want to implement this project in my site so that it will serve as an example to the rest of Sija and surrounding communities that trash construction can be done.

The community that we selected to work with was the one that showed the most dedication and commitment. The teachers of Las Cerezas approached me and my counterpart with their need: a fourth classroom to complement their three rooms in order to better serve the six grades. Since we talked with them four weeks ago, the community has filled more than 1000 bottles and is searching for more trash in other communities because “se acabó la basura” (there’s no more trash). We’ve estimated that they need about 3000 more bottles to build the classroom that they need. They also have committed to donating their time for all the labor involved in construction. The teachers have written a solicitation to a large cement company looking for their assistance. Thus, what we are asking for is help in buying the remaining materials. (The photo below is of where we will build the room.)

I would prefer not to ask for money from friends and family because it is not as sustainable as the community learning to solicit their own funds, but in this case I see an exception. Please consider donating to this project. Even a small contribution will go a long way. Approximately $1.75 will build one square foot of wall for the classroom, with a total cost for the room at $2830.

If you have any questions, just let me know! Thank you for taking the time to read this and hopefully support our project. If you decide to donate, you can send checks to:

Friends of Guatemala ● P.O. Box 33018 ● Washington, D.C. 20033

*IMPORTANT* Make sure to put on the memo line of the check: “Audrey Squires – Cat. II”, otherwise your donation will go to the general scholarship fund.

Thanks for your support and if you know anyone else that may be interested in contributing, please forward my request. It means a lot to me and to the community. We hope to start building in November!

First harvest!

Today I pulled up my first radish and ate it! It was a little small; I will wait longer for the rest of them, but I had to try it! mmmm organic home-grown radish... This is the first time I've ever eaten something that I've grown! Completely MY work: building the garden, carrying the sil from the mountain, and planting the seeds. Quite a lovely feeling being so connected with the earth.

Adventures left to be had in Guate

Now having dipped under 7 months to go, I'm realizing that I have quite the bucket list of places to explore before I finish my service. I like to make lists, so here's a fun one:

September:

• Kayaking in mangrove forests on the Pacific Coast
• Independence Day feria in Xela
• Camping in the jungle of Peten/Alta Verapaz

October:

• Climb a volcano

November:

• Backpacking trip in the Cuchumutanes mountains and drunken horse races in Todos Santos
• Climb Volcan Tajumulco (highest point in Central America)
• 5-day jungle trek to newly uncovered Mayan ruins -- The Mirador

December:

• Climb Volcan Tacana
• Sija's Feria
• Home!!

January:

• Belize to check out large cat population dynamic research

No vacation time allowed in the last three months. But that's fine. Some in-site time will do me good, and I can still do some weekend trips to get everything checked off. I think these last 7 months will fly by. After spending my first year and a half as a "site rat" I think it's okay that I get out and explore a bit before I move on from the "land of the eternal spring." But don't worry, I'll still be workin' my butt off!

Jealous? :)

Discrimination

After a funny last entry, here’s a more serious one, but it’s good. So read it!

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Discrimination of all forms is rampant in Guatemala: racism, classism, sexism and based on religion and sexual orientation. After growing up in Oregon, where it doesn’t exist as much, or at least where I was blind to it because I’m white, living in Guatemala is quite an awakening and can be very trying at times.

Being a woman in Guatemala has been quite difficult in all aspects of my life (and from talking with others, it is true for the majority of female PCVs).

· Safety – I’m very accustomed to being independent, going where I want when I want, but here that causes me problems.
· Being respected professionally – I’m typically the only woman in meetings and other work settings. Thankfully, I have had luck with gaining the respect of most of the men I work with, but of course there are still those that don’t respect me, for example, when they spread nasty rumors about me in the office. Or when I try to talk about a project and the man interrupts me to tell me how beautiful I am.
· Social scene – At home I have lots of male friends, but sadly, I have few real friends who are Guatemalan males. Nearly all have something else in mind and friendships just don’t exist. Female friends are tough to come by because they are too busy taking care of their families and doing chores. I also cannot be seen drinking in my town; I would appear disreputable. But men can.
· General respect – A day does not pass when I don’t receive some sort of whistle, cat call or comment while walking down the street, riding my bike, running or just being. Yesterday in the park some middle school students started whistling and making comments and I retorted, “Necesitan aprender a respetar.” (You need to learn to respect.) Which just made it worse, but I get tired of it.

Obviously it’s hard for a young woman from the States to try to acclimate to this machista culture and be happy and successful, but for the most part I have managed. I’ve really learned to appreciate the equality that we have gained at home. But just imagine what the women here go through. Maybe it’s not as hard for them because they have never experienced true respect and equality, but that’s no reason to say that it’s okay. People always ask me if I’ll just find a man here and stay in Guatemala. I really don’t think so, and a big reason is all that I just mentioned, and due to the phrase I hate most, “tengo que pedir permiso.” Translation (language and context): I have to ask my husband for permission to _(fill in the blank)_ (go get ice cream with you, take a class at the university, go to a dance, go on a trip, buy something, etc.). There’s a big difference between asking permission and informing/coming to a mutual decision. I hope that one day these women, or at least their children, will be lucky enough to experience the equality that we take for granted in the United States.

Now let’s take this to the next level, one that I cannot empathize with but that nevertheless causes me pain when I hear/see it. Racism. Here the racism mainly comes from the ladinos (non-indigenous) and is against the indigenous people. (While there is reverse discrimination, I wouldn’t consider that as much of a problem, more so, a form of protection and retaliation.) Yesterday I had a long conversation about this with an amazing woman that I have been so lucky to meet: Martha, an indigenous woman who works as a forestry technician and is studying to be an environmental engineer. I’ve always thought she was pretty amazing, but even more so now after hearing the story of her childhood.

She was raised in a village of the town of Salcaja which is very close to the city of Xela. Salcaja was founded by the Spaniards in the 16th century. Most likely, they displaced (violently) the locals that had lived in those fertile lands for generations. As is all too common in this hemisphere, the European settlers took over the land and made it theirs while turning the indigenous people into slave laborers or at least banishing them to less productive soils. In the time of Martha’s grandfather (1950s or ‘60s), they were forced to do labor for the municipality without being paid and if they refused, there would be punishment. The story she related to me was that in preparation for the town’s feria, the mayor would order all of the indigenous men to go to the mountain and bring wood down to build the rodeo grounds (carrying it on their back with a rope tied to around their forehead for extra support). When they turned it in, they weren’t thanked, simply told to come back in 8 days and take it down. They weren’t even allowed to attend the rodeo.

When Martha grew up in the 1980s, she felt a definite divide between the town and the village. At school she and her indigenous peers were mistreated verbally and physically. Martha never learned Quiche (key-che), her family’s native language, because it was a way for her parents to protect her and her siblings – one less reason to be discriminated against. Discrimination destroys language, culture and heritage, not to mention hopes, dreams and self-esteem. But Martha and her family fought to overcome this. As I mentioned, she is working professionally in a traditionally male-dominated field. Her brother is studying in Cuba to become a doctor. Her sister is about to graduate as an agricultural engineer. Her father is a respected principal of a school. But it was not without cost. Her family is isolated from the rest of the community, be it ladino or indigenous, because of their resolve to succeed.

Racism is not only a problem of the past in Guatemala. It continues today: just five years ago the mayor of Salcaja commented on the proposal of paving the road beyond the town (where the ladinos live) into the village (where the indigenous live): “Only barefoot indios walk out there, so why would we bother?” Statements like that are clearly racist and I have little hope that the people who think like that will one day change. To me, what’s worse is when people make racist comments that they don’t even understand to be discriminatory. I heard a coworker advise a friend that she should not send her children to a certain school because only indigenous kids matriculate there. These are people who have become so accustomed to inequality, that they think their level of treatment of indigenous people is fair. Equal. I suppose that’s the problem; they are consciously seeing the difference and trying to force what they can of “equal” treatment. True equality will only come when it is not forced; when people no longer see the differences and just see another human being. The only reason to define heritage would be to take pride in culture.

My conversation with Martha changed my perspective. I thought that coming from Alta Verapaz, which is years, perhaps decades, behind Quetzaltenango in development, that out here there would be less discrimination, and until yesterday, I thought that I had been proven right with what I had witnessed. But I was wrong. The discrimination is simply manifested differently. It’s less common to hear the outright racist comments, for example. Yet they still surface. Most of all, though, because I’m not indigenous, I cannot feel/see/experience all the racism that does occur. I suppose that’s a lesson that we need to learn in the States. Those of us who are not in the minority cannot say that discrimination is no longer a problem. What do we know? You have to listen to those who are forced to suffer through it to know the truth.

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Thank you for reading this and I hope you will take some time to think about your own encounters (whichever side or simply as a witness) with discrimination, appreciate what others have to go through, start discussions about it and try to add your grain of sand to the fight for equality.

To saludar or not to saludar?

Whenever I take Patita for a hike on the mountain after work, I always come across jovenes making out. It's always the same couple and it's always awkward. In Guatemala, and probably most latin countries where it's typical that kids live with their parents until they marry, it's common that they go to the woods, a park, the street, or a corn field to escape the watchful eyes of their padres.

My dilemma has been that I don't know what the proper protocal is when I pass them. Do I say "buenas tardes" or do I act like they're not there? In most situations it's pretty rude if you don't saludar someone that you pass, but in this situation I feel like I'm invading their bedroom.

One time, when I got caught in a rainstorm, they made a comment to me as I came back down about how wet I got. Other than that, we have't conversed... until today. As I passed, the guy initiated a conversation! We talked about my dog, he wanted to buy her, then he asked me if there's less dust in the States. Minus the Dust Bowl, I'm pretty sure the answer is yes. (There's a lot of dust in Guatemala.)

So there you have it, in case you ever encounter this situation, it seems to be appropriate to say hello to the jovenes making out in the woods.

s'mores

I love having visitors because they always give me a new perspective on my experience in Guatemala.

This weekend, I saw Lori again, but in my site this time. To have someone visit who hasn't been living here for a year and a half reminds me that maybe life isn't as easy or as "normal" as I have grown accustommed to thinking. Or at least you have to learn to roll with the punches.

The plan was that we'd go learn to moler queso (final step in making fresh cheese -- grinding it on a rock) with a friend of mine; get the pizza dough ready for dinner (some other PCVs were coming over); go to a youth group campfire/marshmallow roasting activity; make the pizza. While we did go to moler queso, on the walk home it started pouring which soaked my blankets that I had hung out to air. Thus leaving us short on night-time warmth for the group. Next, when we went to buy flour, the power went out indefinitely. Thus no baking pizza in my toaster oven. (Also no showering -- electrically-heated shower -- and I hadn't, and still haven't, showered for a few days.) I also recently lost my headlamp; my normal flashlight is almost dead; and my candles suck. We came home to make some tea. Gas tank empty. No way to cook food. Stores closed by this time. We made the dough anyway, just in case, then prepared for the marshmallow-roasting extravaganza. It started raining. S'mores = cancelled. The outlook for the night became: sit in the dark and eat carrots and apples. And to top it off, my friends coming out specifically for these activities were almost here; too late for them to turn around. But we just laughed and laughed. I hadn't laughed that hard in a long time. It felt good. It also felt good to remind myself that things go wrong here, a lot, and you just have to deal with it. Why get frustrated? Why not just laugh?

In the end, we got lucky. My neighbor agreed to let us use her gas oven to bake the pizzas and take some firewood to make a bonfire on my patio. Then the power came on! So it was actually a spectacular night. Delicious home-made pizza, s'mores and good company. Plus, the neighbor boys experienced their first s'mores ever!

I never know what to expect with each day presented to me here, but I know that with a positive attitude, it always turns out okay.

Queso Fresco

Even though I have nearly 8 months of service left, I still find myself contemplating what I will miss when I leave (subjunctive) Guatemala. Here's one: people coming to my house to sell me things. I guess I realize we have door-to-door salesmen in the States, but not as much as we used to, and they're not selling products that you really want. What do they sell? Vaccuum cleaners? Knives? No thank you. I'm talking about really useful things, and things you didn't even realize you wanted/needed.

Yesterday I was relaxing in my hammock after a long day at work. Didn't expect to interact with anyone else for the rest of the day, except for maybe the neighbor kids. But here comes a woman selling cheese (fresh, homemade cheese from her own cows, probably made that morning) at Q12 ($1.50) per pound! Well shit, Q2 cheaper than every other place in town. How could I not buy it? Plus, I didn't even have to leave my house. And it's delicious.


So that is something I will miss: Guatemalan-style door-to-door salesmen. And Sija's queso fresco. I've almost finished the pound. Maybe I should've bought two?



Other things that I will miss:

- Saying "buenos dias" and "buenas tardes" to people I don't know and receiving a very warm reply back.

- The market, and haggling there... my sister tells me you don't haggle at farmer's markets in the States. Strange.

- Walking to work and coming home for lunch.

- The beauty.

- Spanish.

- The "ease" of transport on chicken buses.



Things that I perhaps won't miss:

- The "ease" of tranpsort on chicken buses.

- Bolos (drunks) wandering the streets at any time of day, or even showing up at meetings. For example, at my meeting with the city council and my Peace Corps program director today, the inspector from the health center showed up drunk. Seriously dude?

- Washing my spinach (and other veggies) with bleach then having to dry it completely.

- Not being respected because I'm a woman.

- Being alone.

- The running situation.



I still have 7 1/2 months left, though, plus all my post-PC traveling through the rest of Latin America. So really, no need to worry; I have plenty of time to soak up all of the good stuff and get really really tired of the bad stuff!

Tire gardens and being happy

When I first moved to Sija, I thought that I would never be able to stay a full week without leaving. I was lonely and comparing it to Chahal, where I would go swimming in the river, have lunch with the family, go out to someone's finca, etc, and didn't see those options in Sija. Those don't necessarily exist here (I will not be swimming in the sewage that is Rio Samala), but I've found other diversions. I've made more acquaintances in town and have taken on projects of my own like expanding my cooking repertoire, building a tire garden, and milking a cow for the first time. (I've decided to make my own little "bucket list" and start checking off things I've never done before. Sometimes it's not even something on my list until after I do it and realize that it should've been on there.) Even without being able to run this month, I've been happy. I stayed here in site all of July (except a couple day trips to Xela for lunch) and was overall content. There are always moments of despair, but I've learned that those pass quickly and thus don't dwell on them.

The tire garden has been so much fun and rewarding. I'm like my dad: I love to putter, so this project has been fantastic for that. I needed something beyond just reading good books in my hammock. Many Peace Corps volunteers make these in their schools or with women's groups, but I had never personally seen one made before, so I didn't know what to expect. I got a little extra help from this website http://wuvie.net/tireplanter.htm. It's hardwork but simple. Find the most dilapidated tires that you can. Trace circles on one wall with a crayon or chalk. Then take a large, sharp knife an cut around the inside halves of the circles. Next is the hardest part: turning the tire inside out. I don't even know how to explain how I did it, but it requires knees, elbows, feet and finesse. To finish up, wash, paint, let dry, lay cardboard in the bottom, throw in your dirt and plant your seed! Hopefully you're not like me and have to hike up the mountain and carry the dirt back down!

What I didn't expect was that this project that I was doing alone, at my house, would attract so much interest. As you can see, my patio is visible from the street, so everyone who walked by paused to inquire about what I was doing. My neighbors even came over and made their own.
I took advantage of the "teaching moments" with those interested and talked about reusing trash, the importance of eating vegetables, the negative impacts of pesticides, and whatever else was relevant. Now I plan to do some tire garden workshops through the library and implement it in some schools as well. When I get done here, Sija won't have any tires laying around!

I was tempted to stay in site this past weekend to finish planting, but I decided that it was time for a little escape. I met up with Lori (a friend from college) and some Peace Corps friends at Lago de Atitlan for a relaxing couple days at one of the most beautiful lakes in the world. However much I like being in site, I can't deny that this trip was much needed, and so much more fun than anything I would have done in Sija!

And some exciting news to finish of this entry: I'm coming home for Christmas!! My parents surprised me on Friday night with the news that they'll pay for my ticket home! I used to think I was too tough to go home during my two years, but then I realized I was being selfish. My family has supported me so much and is constantly there for me; if I have the means to go home and spend some time with them, I should. So if you're in Oregon over Christmas, hopefully I'll be seeing you!

Lesson learned

As you may know, I've taken on trash (err, solid waste) as a project. The first step in our plan is to get all the vendors in the new market to separate their organic and inorganic waste so that we can start a municipal compost pile. The assumption is that most of the trash in the market is organic from all of the fruit and vegetable vendors. Thus, we can eliminate a large portion of waste being sent to the barranca (ditch) [which hopefully will be a sanitary landfill one day] and produce organic compost for the local crops... But we all know what happens when you ass-u-me something!

I started distributing materials about trash separation today which stirred up some conversations. I explained what I was doing to my fruit lady who stopped me cold when she said that she doesn't have organic waste. "Como?!" was my response. I was confused: the fruit lady should ONLY have organic waste. She explained -- she does have organic waste, but a woman with a pig takes it from her for her pig to eat. Hmm, okay. Does everyone do that?

I then chatted with my vegetable lady. Well, yes, she sells her organic waste for Q5 a box. Looks like we were quite wrong with that assumption we made. The waste from the market is mainly inorganic.

How did this happen? How did we completely miss this? We had analyzed it amongst ourselves in the office; I had mentioned the idea to my Peace Corps supervisor; we had talked with the trash collectors; and just by looking at the market, it had seemed obvious that the waste is mainly organic.

We didn't talk to the vendors, the people there everyday all day long. We were going to, but we wanted to have everything organized first. The plan was to teach them to sort their trash, then we would do a study of the waste produced for a week, weighing all of the organic material to see what size area we would need for the compost.

It should be frustrating that we completely overlooked this, but to me it's just funny. I'm constantly surprised here, but not always positively. This, though, was definitely a positive surprise. The people are already dealing with their trash problems, to an extent. Now we can tackle the market trash faster and move on to household waste a lot sooner. This just shows that when it becomes a necessity, people will solve their own problems and live more in harmony with the earth.

This experience is also metaphor of how international development can fail. Take the market as a small community. We went in from the outside, didn't get to know the day-to-day life, decided what project they needed, how we would do it, then told them what we were doing. Completely backwards. NGOs and other agencies need to meet with the people and get to know them, diagnose what they need together, then try to come up with solutions. Now, in my defense, the market is municipal and I am working with municipal employees on this project and we were specifically targeting the trash problem. It's not quite the same as going into a community with no local knowledge and throwing a project at them, but still a good lesson to learn.

Dia del Empleado

Every July 25th, Guatemala celebrates a holiday called Dia del Empleado (Employee's Day). It's specifically to honor municipal employees (and perhaps other governmental sectors). The 334 municipalities in Guatemala vary greatly in how they celebrate it -- trips to neighboring countries, trips within Guatemala, parties, lunches, day off, bonuses. Last year in Chahal they did a lunch and got the day off. This year in Chahal they're taking a trip to Livingston (Carribean coast)! And taking Monday off.

Here in Sija the mayor gathered us all up yesterday to tell us what our reward would be. It included three parts:

1. A trip to Pollo Campero (Guatemalan fast food) at the mall in Xela for dinner last night.
2. Thursday and Friday off.
3. Q400 bonus.

Everyone was extremely excited. I'd rather have the trip to Livingston personally.

So yesterday we all left work early and piled into some cars and drove the 30 minutes down to Xela. I jumped in the van with all the men I play soccer with, a pretty funny group. They all have animal nicknames (sheep, chicken, frog, donkey, etc.) and suggested giving me one -- either ardilla or comadrilla. Ardilla is a squirrel and they told me that comadrilla is a long flying animal, but I'm pretty sure it means godmother.

The big party was in the food court. They already had a long line of tables set up for the 40 - 50 employees. First everyone lined up for their bonuses (I didn't, obviously, even though they told me to...). Then we were served a fountain drink, fries, coleslaw, bread, tortillas, too much chicken (breast, leg and wing... we each ate half a chicken), and ice cream to top it off. The men at my end of the table all put in to buy a bottle of XL (cheap liquor) which we poured into our pop, and made the event a bit more fun. Then, as we were all leaving, the mayor came over and handed me Q300! I tried to tell him that I'm not his employee, that they don't pay me and thus that he shouldn't give me the bonus, but he wouldn't hear it and forced the money on me! Well, after getting Patita spayed, I could definitely use it, so I'm not going to complain!

I personally think Pollo Campero is disgusting, but all of my co-workers love it. They said they did the same thing last year for the Christmas party, so I guess I know how I'll be celebrating Christmas!

Market Day

Market day is a pretty big deal in Guatemalan towns, as I would imagine that it is in most towns in the developing world. It's the day that all the vendors in the region come to the chosen town to sell food, produce, clothes, house supplies, animals, trees, pirated CDs/DVDs ... pretty much anything, but the quantity and quality of products and vendors definitely varies depending on the town. In Chahal, it was Wednesdays, but I never really went. It wasn't very impressive, and the produce was disappointing. The main product was clothes: local traje and Chuck Norris t-shirts. Not really my look, even with my love for Walker Texas Ranger.

(Example of a vendor of local traje, but not Chahal's traje)

This is a reason why I like Sija. Market Day (I capitalize it because it's like a holiday) is every Sunday, and it's huge. Today was an even bigger deal than usual because Friday was the inauguration of the new three-story indoor market, thus it was the first Market Day in the spiffy new building. It was fantastic. The market still spilled into the streets, but it wasn't as crazy and filthy because the make-shift locales were gone so there was more space to walk and to see around you.

(Manuela, my vegetable lady, in her stall in the old market)

(The new market, the park, and the clock tower -- the setting for Market Day)

I particular enjoyed a few of today's vendors. First, there was a man walking around selling something that must have had to do with cats because he kept on meowing. Then there was a man offering one single remedy to cure anything from the cough to tuberculosis. The last one, and my favorite, I found on my walk home with a group gathered around him.

You see, there are some vendors that tell and/or show you why you want to buy their product. This man did an impressive job. The trick is that you don't tell the people what you're selling until the end. It's like a joke and its punch line. You allude to the identity of it by talking about the problems that a potential customer would fix with the magical unknown product, but you don't reveal it.

When I walked up, he was talking about how friends aren't friends unless they take you to Pollo Campero (fast food chicken). Then he attached a small red rag to a large shell and showed us that Coca-Cola will stain the rag. Alcohol won't clean it. Neither will water. Potato juice will.

During this process, he was talking about how hard the sun is on the eyes and how these friends of his that take him to Pollo Campero can't see very well. Then he squirted water into his eyes and said that it didn't clean them.

Can you guess what he was selling?

Eye drops.

Do you see the obvious connection between the red rag and our eyes? None of those other products could get the red out of the rag (except potato juice... I was waiting for him to squirt that into his eyes). But with the eye drops, the color faded noticeably.

Well shit, if those eye drops can get the red out of a rag, they must be able to get the red out of my eyes! I'm glad I discovered them before I started pouring coke and alcohol and potato juice into my eyes.

People literally started lining up to have him squirt this miracle potion into their eyes and cure their "glass eyes" as he had referred to them. Did I? you wonder. I hate to disappoint, but no. I snuck away at that point before he could force them on me, thus I do not know how many bottles he sold to the crowd. But I can assume that he did pretty well today.

Not a bad Sunday. I'm looking forward to next week already.


What I bought today, to give you an idea of the possibilities:

1 pair of jellies (those cheap plasitic shoes from elementary school) -- Q15
2 lbs. chicken (chopped up right in front of me) -- Q22
1 oz. of a spice (not sure what) -- Q2
6 peaches -- Q5
1 lb. apples -- Q3
2 stalks of celery -- Q2
6 carrots -- Q2
2 guiskil -- Q2
1 lb. onion -- Q3
1 red pepper -- Q2
1 cantaloupe -- Q8
1 pair of used baby jeans (to patch my jeans with) -- Q5
2 hand towels -- Q10
1/2 lb. pasta -- Q3
1 large trash can (to make compost in) -- Q60

Total: Q144 = $18 (Q8 = $1)

Result: Homemade chicken noodle soup for the rest of the week, hole-free jeans, properly decomposing organic waste, cool shoes, the potential to dry my hands, and some fresh fruit to snack on. Can you do that for $18?

(Examining the fruit)