Title change

As you may have noticed, I changed the title of my blog. It had been "Sigues y Triunfaràs" for the past year and a half, a phrase I had seen on a sign in my training park. "Continue and you will triumph." It seemed fitting. However, recently I realized that it makes it seem like there is a specific, tangible goal that will be my triumph, like perhaps finishing my service. But I don't feel that way. Yes, "continue" is good, but the triumph part sounds strange to me now. Who or what will I be triumphing over? Rather, the phrase "poco a poco" seems much more applicable. Everything here is a challenge and the general response to it all is poco a poco. Little by little you will find your way.

Kids at my house!

I'm finally feeling comfortable here in Sija. Well, actually about a month ago I was, but I haven't written a blog until now.

I made a comment to someone recently that in Chahal, the neighbor kids would show up at my house on their own accord to play but that kids here in Sija don't do that and probably won't. I was wrong!

This afternoon SEVEN kids came over to play. Patita is a magnet for them. Although Guatemalans seem to be wary of dogs, they love mine because she's actually clean and behaves herself. The kids went crazy. Running all over the house screaming like Patita was a monster chasing them. It was adorable.

When they showed up, I was pooper-scoopering the patio, tossing the turds into the wheel barrel. When I finished I asked, "who wants to dump the poop in the field across the street?" They all went crazy to be the one who got to do the job! Child labor, hmm.... I could take advantage of this.

Then they discovered my hammock. They were quite organized and formed a line, but I suggested we play an elaborate tournament of rock, paper, scissors called Evolution, to see who got to swing on the hammock first. Juan de Dios won. The only problem was when Rudy, the youngest of them all, started playing rough. When I tried to talk to him, he got very angry with me. So I had to banish him from my house. Afterwards I found out that the only discipline the kid knows at home is being whipped. No wonder he ran from me when I tried to talk to him. Poor thing.

I still don't think that Sija will ever have quite the feeling of community that Chahal had, mainly because Chahal is much more isolated, whereas Sija is a commutable distance from a city. But it's okay. I had my ideal experience in Chahal, now I have to be tough and make Sija a positive place, which as you can see, it's already becoming that.

In addition to having kids to play with, I'm getting a roomate next week (an environmental master's student from the capital). I enjoy living alone, especially with the move to the new house. I have windows!! But life gets boring, so the company will be appreciated. I'm also getting a site mate next month from the Youth Development program. In Chahal I wouldn't have liked that, but I'm not possessive of Sija. And I see potential for colaboration on projects.

Speaking of projects, I'm finally out in the field working more than I am in the office wasting time. We've started building the trail on the mountain here; planting 18,000 trees (Mexican weeping pine and fir) in a reforestation effort and for our sustainable logging project; and have begun the conversation about how to attack the waste management problem. However, there's not enough people out working on these projects to finish them in the amount of time alloted in the proposals, which is frustrating. They had these projects planned out before I got here so I just have to tag onto what they're doing; I didn't have a say in the planning process. Most frustrating, though, is that I seem to be the one most interested in all of these projects even though they are not for me nor my brain children. But I think that's a typical challenge of a volunteer: to make the locals realize that these projects are actually to benefit their well-being. So poco a poco voy. Just over 9 months left! 2/3 of my Peace Corps experience has past. Crazy.

P.S. Thanks to Joy and Mara for coming to visit and see what my life is like here and help out with the projects. You rock!

"Racing" in Guatemala

As you all know, I have been racing basically forever, thus it is something that I attempt to keep up with here in Guatemala. When there's a race happening and I can make it, why not?

Last week my running partner, the doctor, informed me of a race happening this weekend in Totonicipan (about an hour from here). A 10k. Sounds great, I said. I'm in. Off we went this morning for the 9 a.m. start time. At 8:15, we finally found the start after almost driving down a flight of stairs. We were the first to arrive and the organizers (the 7th Day Adventist church) were still setting up the course and had to begin to take entries. Turns out it was actually a 6k, "campo travioso" (obstacle course). Sure, why not? We were already there. The entry fee was 2 Quetzales (25 cents) and the doctor bought me the race t-shirt as well.

For a bathroom, they opened up a neighbor's house for public use (that's more than I had expected), and there was even toilet paper! Then I tried to do the old WU cross country warm-up, but cut it a little short because the start time was nearing.

9 o'clock passed uneventful, the religious music still blasting away. By 9:15 they were ready to start... the 2-3 year-olds. They went group by group like that, granted, short races, but it was already passed 9, the supposed race time. Needless to say, my warm-up did not help me out much. By the time it was finally time for the adults to start, I had finished my warm-up an hour before.

At the start line there was still question of how long the race was. 10k? 12k? 6k? 7k? We settled on between 6 and 7k. (When have you ever run a race not knowing how long it would be? And the organizers not knowing how long it was either??) Then, literally 10 seconds before they blew the whistle, the announcer shouted that the men would turn around at the bridge and the women at the church! What?! How long am I running then? But there was no one to answer my question; I was running down the street.

I ran until they held up a red flag at me and made me turn around (about 9 minutes in). I wanted to keep going with the men, but I also wanted to win the race, thus I obeyed. I finished first. Yep, second race I've won in Guatemala, and this time there were actually other women in the race to beat! (About 7.)

I think the course ended up being around 4k, but who knows. With my crappy warm-up, lack of sleep, being sick, etc. I was not running like myself, so am not really sure. And as far as the obstacle course, I have no clue what they were talking about. We just ran on city roads. Perhaps the extra 2km in the men's course went through a corn field?

Waiting at the finish line I made lots of new friends who were all very curious about the strange, fast, white girl. (The event was very small and mainly just people from the church.) Then came the awards... "Andre Skeers," yeah, something like that. As they handed me my trophy, I climbed on top of four concrete blocks (the awards stand) which almost toppled over like when you stack the Jenga blocks too high. Along with my trophy, I won a magazine about God.

They asked me to say a few words, which I did. Something to the effect of, "Good morning everyone. Thank you very much for this trophy. This was a great event. I've been running my whole life, so it is very nice to be able to find races here to make me feel at home in a different country. Thank you. And congratulations to everyone!"

Cheesy, yes. But I meant it. Despite the craziness and poor organization of the race, it was super fun and just wonderful to see so many people, including girls and women, out enjoying running. That's rare in Guatemala.

My next race is at the end of June: the big Coban International Half Marathon. (This one's actually quite well organized.) It had originally been scheduled for May, but was postponed due to the one case of swine flu in Guatemala. I ran it last year; it was my first half. My training has been quite difficult over the past few months, but I'm still hoping to better my time from last year, which shouldn't be too hard since I was throwing up and fainting a couple days before the race!

A little dizzy

I think I jumped back into running too quickly here in Sija. I didn't realize that two weeks of running at sea level while at home would make me have to reacclimate to the altitude in Sija -- 9,000 feet mind you. Monday was okay (6 1/2 hilly miles); Tuesday was hard (5 hilly miles); today was dangerous. At the beginning I felt better, but at about 20 minutes the hills were killing me (it's impossible to avoid hills here, by the way). We ran about 6 miles and when we finished I felt dizzy and light-headed. I was definitely on the verge of fainting! But I made it home in time and managed to hydrate, eat and rest. Now I feel fine, but maybe I'll take tomorrow off?

Reflections on Trip Home

(Home!)

So I went home. In a word, it was fantastic. I was expecting lots of reverse culture shock, but it wasn't as weird as I had imagined. Even though I hadn't been in the States for over a year, I had still lived nearly 22 years of my life there, so it's not that hard to reacclimate to the modern amenities that we are accustomed to. The bigger "shock", which I didn't expect was how much my perspective/attitude/world view has changed. What really got me was overhearing conversations, specifically when people were complaining. Listening to the little trivialities of their lives that seem worth complaining about made me want to smack them. Is _____ really a big deal when there are people in this world that have to hike a mile to the river to carry water back to their house on their head so that they boil it to drink? Granted, I realize that not everyone has been exposed to what I have, or even if they have, there is a point when you forget it and become wrapped up in your own life, which I understand. That didn't make it any easier to listen to, though.

The specifics of the trip, more or less...

I spent some quality time with my big sis in Santa Cruz. She and her friend Sonja ran a marathon; I ran 10.6 miles (strange distance for a race). I basically won it, which isn't as cool as you think. It was classified as a walk, but they gave me permission to run. A few others jogged, but there were very few actual runners out there. No matter, it was fun, beautiful, and I couldn't have handled the marathon. Afterwards, we got in some good beach time, pedicures and I got to see Sarah :)

Jen and I then road-tripped to Oregon. (Being spoiled with riding around in cars has made it tough to return to chicken busses.) We saw the grandparents, camped at the beach with my parents, helped at my bro's track meet, and just relaxed. Over the weekend I went to visit at Willamette, where I had a blast. I was a little worried about possible awkwardness at coming back after two years, but the awkwardness was very limited (and a little every now and then can be enjoyable). I ran the beer mile while there, which was something I had always wanted to do. I don't know what is appealing about drinking 4 beers while running a mile, but we runners are crazy. It's just like any race really -- during the race you're hurting and perhaps even miserable, but after it you forget all that and remember how great it was.

There are plenty more highlights from the two weeks, but I won't list them. That's boring. Overall, what I really enjoyed was being reminded that I have a life and people that care about me at home. It has given me a new perspective on my time in Guatemala. It helps me to realize that whatever hardships come while here (like a site change) are only temporary. When I get home, it will all be a memory, but it will also be something that has made me who I am. I can see the changes, and I like 'em!

So now, back in Sija...

Before I went home and while there, I caught myself talking relatively negatively about my new site and situation. That's not going to work. I made a committment to myself that from the moment that the plane landed in Guatemala, I would be positive and make the most of my 11 months in Sija. It's not Chahal, but I can't be there right now and if I want to be in Peace Corps Guatemala still, it has to be Sija. And I cannot live 11 months being negative. Normally I'm a pretty positive person (that likes alliteration) anyway, so it shouldn't be too hard. Plus, field work is about to start -- building the trail in the park, planting trees, field trips to check out other projects.

I can do it! But, como siempre, hearing from you is always appreciated :)

For your enjoyment:

Me, Sarah and my hot dog on the beach!

The marathoners and I

Dad and Grandma

Grandpa and JenPost beer-mile

My parents and I... I dont' know why Dad looks so short, or me so tall...

Dad and the dogs. Yes, he has rain jackets for them.

470 days

470 days; 15 ½ months. That’s how long it will have been since I’ve been in the States. Well, unless you count when I went to the US Embassy… technically, I was on U.S. soil. On Friday I’m flying into California to see my sister then we’re driving up to Oregon to see my family and friends. 15 days. I think it will be a good amount. Long enough to take a good break, but not too long. I’m really looking forward to it, but I also know from other volunteers that have gone home that it can be a big let down in some ways. Besides my family and a few close friends, the world isn’t waiting for my return. People have their own lives. I’m sure I will see people who haven’t even realized I’ve been gone. But that’s okay. This break will be wonderful despite that.

I need to take a step away from my life here and gain a new perspective on it. I’m not as happy as I was in Chahal, but I would like to be. I know that I have been holding myself back from happiness with all the comparisons that I make between the two sites and just the general longing for Chahal. Yes, it sucks that all this happened, but to be cliché, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In a year I am going to be so damn strong! Under no circumstances am I ready to be done with Guatemala or with the Peace Corps, therefore, that means that I will be living in San Carlos Sija for the next 11 ½ months. So we have that settled. I also really enjoy being happy; thus, I must find how to be happy here. I have had a lot of qualms lately with being in such an urban, developed area. Gosh, I even have two sinks in my house. I haven’t had a sink since I came here. Where’s the hardship? But by changing my perspective, I am able to realize that I still encounter plenty of hardship, it just manifests itself in other ways. Also, I can still learn a lot from this community and contribute a lot as well.

Coming to Sija has helped me to realize that a small town in Guatemala can be developed and inhabited by an educated population. I would not call this the third world.

Despite all the advancements in Sija, there is still one very large problem: environmental degradation. That’s where I come in. Maybe they don’t need development help in other areas, but I would sure love to clean up the river and build a trail in the forest. First things first, though: a little jaunt home. Then, when I come back in May, I will be ready to be a Sijeña for a year.

FONACON

Remember when I was attacked by a pack of dogs in November? Remember why? I was biking home from the muni at nearly midnight because we were putting the finishing touches on a HUGE grant proposal for Las Conchas. Well, drum roll please.... SALIO APROBADO!! We got it, or mejor, they got it. I found out last week that the muni of Chahal will receive the Q299,095.53 that we had asked for (approximately $40,000). I am so excited for them and happy that all that work paid off. But admittedly, I am pretty bummed that I won't be there to execute the project with them. Yeah, I helped them get the money, which is fantastic, but they still need help doing the work to see the project through. It makes me feel miserable. I know it's not my fault, that's not what I'm talking about. What I mean is that I feel so sad that I can't see it through to the end. I feel like it's MY park and now I don't get to be a part of it. I want to whine like a child "it's not fair."