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.