Sometimes here the weeks run together and Monday is just another day. This week was different in that Monday marked the start of an important week. First off, we were back from a great weekend at the beach, nursing sunburns, but glad to be home. The volcanic sand beach was beautiful and we stood out as Floridians among a bunch of mid-westerners because of all the time we (wiley) spent playing in the waves. In site we successfully initiated a string of water infrastructure projects that will wrap up in April (si Díos quiere), and this is the week that Reyna’s (Laura’s host mom’s) baby will be born!
Sadly, this Monday also marks the beginning of Wiley’s last week here. Time has gone by too fast and I am starting to realize how much I will miss having him here. Ever since I got my invitation from Peace Corps we have been scheming about how he could spend his interim here. It’s strange that its almost over. This trip was really the first time that I have gotten to spend extended one-on-one time with Wiley, and its nice to come to the realization that I actually like being friends with my brother. He helps me out when I go to work and leave important things at home (that happens more often than it should), he washes dishes, and most importantly, he makes me do Insanity. When he leaves someone is going to have to call me everyday at 5 and yell “Dig Deeper!!” He cooks which is a plus (he is making eggplant parm right now), but he also wants to teach my new mouse friend to cook instead of trapping it, which is definitely a minus.
As for the water projects, well they got off with less hitches than were expected, but that’s not saying much. The 6 masons and 10 ayudantes arrived bright and early at the work site to find that the Muni hadn’t delivered the materials they had promised. Disappointing, but not altogether unexpected. After chasing around at the hardware store and the Muni I finally (and accidentally) ran into the right man who explained some kind of mix up, wrote the materials we needed on a piece of scrap paper, and had them at the school within next few hours. I note the detail of the scrap paper because after all the official letters we had written and signed by various authorities in order to get the materials turned in on-time, it seems that all we actually needed was a note scribbled by the right person.
Well that’s about all for now, as I feel I should go spend some quality time with the lil bro instead of us both sitting at computers in different rooms. This weekend we are headed to the lake, so keep an eye out for an update on his blog!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Don't read this unless you are REALLY interested in what I am doing here
Well, after an amazingly restful and fun vacation, I am finally back to work. Sometimes Peace Corps volunteers complain of not having enough work, but this month that doesn’t seem like it will be a problem for me. So instead of sharing with you some insightful cultural commentary, in this post I thought I would fill you in on what I am up to work-wise here. This post will also serve as a reference for me during future job interviews when I am bragging on how I am able to manage multiple projects at once.
This first week back, Laura and I have planned a giant workshop on Project Design and Management for our schools. The idea is that Peace Corps gave the workshop to myself and one of our directors, and together we replicate it for the director and a parent from each school. They in turn share the information with their schools and communities. We will see how successful that last step is. These past few days we have been frantically trying to make sure that all 25 directors know where and when the workshop is, and that yes, they are expected to be there. Seems like a relatively simple task in a world where everyone regularly checks their emails, answers their cell phones, and keeps the same number. It doesn’t work like that here. So we have tried every form of communication short of smoke signals and I am sure that at the end of the day tomorrow some will show up at the wrong place, with the wrong people, or not show up at all. Another complication of this mission is that directors can change year to year, so hopefully we have the most updated director list and phone tree ☺.
This month Wiley is also here visiting for his Interim, for which he is supposed to complete some kind of service project. For his project he is going to do a World Map he in one of the schools I work in. Today we went out to meet the director and choose a space for his map. Hopefully it will keep him busy, but not too busy to cook for me.
Infrastructure projects: We have been working on these practically since we got to site 10 months ago, so we are very excited to be getting started this month. The only thing is that we had expected to start in May or June, not in January. This is probably the only example I know of something starting ahead of schedule in Guatemala. In two weeks we are starting on two tanks and hand-washing stations in our big urban school, and one hand-washing station in a rural school. Our site has been chosen to train masons for other projects, so we have to find qualified masons and get the city to deliver on the money it has promised us for the projects.
We also still have the proposal underway for the new water system in one of the surrounding villages. Every January villages change mayors, so I am just hoping that either the old one stayed on, or the new one is in agreement with the project. I heard a rumor at the hardware store that they have been ordering materials to build on their water system… so who knows what is going on there.
The new Healthy Schools Peace Corps Trainees arrived in country last week and are beginning their training program. Because we live close to the Peace Corps Center we get to be involved in their training! Next week the group is coming out to spend a day at our site, and through the month of February I will get weekly visits from a group of 5 trainees to whom I am expected to impart some manner of useful knowledge about Healthy Schools and life as a PCV. Too bad I still feel in need of some useful knowledge myself.
Beside those few things on the agenda, we are also strategizing our plan of attack for the year with our schools in the Healthy Schools program. It’s the first full year in the program for most of our schools, so we will see what kind of initiative they take in setting up Health Corners, planning lessons, and implementing schedules for teeth brushing and hand-washing. I also hope to keep working with the youth group I worked with over the summer, and start a moms’ cooking class.
So there you have it. Instead of a day in the life, it’s a month in the life (mas-o-menos). Although it seems like a lot to me now, I am sure that I will still find time for 2 hour lunch breaks, the required 9 hours of sleep a night, and a trip to the beach with Wiley. Unfortunately, season three of Veronica Mars might have to wait until February.
This first week back, Laura and I have planned a giant workshop on Project Design and Management for our schools. The idea is that Peace Corps gave the workshop to myself and one of our directors, and together we replicate it for the director and a parent from each school. They in turn share the information with their schools and communities. We will see how successful that last step is. These past few days we have been frantically trying to make sure that all 25 directors know where and when the workshop is, and that yes, they are expected to be there. Seems like a relatively simple task in a world where everyone regularly checks their emails, answers their cell phones, and keeps the same number. It doesn’t work like that here. So we have tried every form of communication short of smoke signals and I am sure that at the end of the day tomorrow some will show up at the wrong place, with the wrong people, or not show up at all. Another complication of this mission is that directors can change year to year, so hopefully we have the most updated director list and phone tree ☺.
This month Wiley is also here visiting for his Interim, for which he is supposed to complete some kind of service project. For his project he is going to do a World Map he in one of the schools I work in. Today we went out to meet the director and choose a space for his map. Hopefully it will keep him busy, but not too busy to cook for me.
Infrastructure projects: We have been working on these practically since we got to site 10 months ago, so we are very excited to be getting started this month. The only thing is that we had expected to start in May or June, not in January. This is probably the only example I know of something starting ahead of schedule in Guatemala. In two weeks we are starting on two tanks and hand-washing stations in our big urban school, and one hand-washing station in a rural school. Our site has been chosen to train masons for other projects, so we have to find qualified masons and get the city to deliver on the money it has promised us for the projects.
We also still have the proposal underway for the new water system in one of the surrounding villages. Every January villages change mayors, so I am just hoping that either the old one stayed on, or the new one is in agreement with the project. I heard a rumor at the hardware store that they have been ordering materials to build on their water system… so who knows what is going on there.
The new Healthy Schools Peace Corps Trainees arrived in country last week and are beginning their training program. Because we live close to the Peace Corps Center we get to be involved in their training! Next week the group is coming out to spend a day at our site, and through the month of February I will get weekly visits from a group of 5 trainees to whom I am expected to impart some manner of useful knowledge about Healthy Schools and life as a PCV. Too bad I still feel in need of some useful knowledge myself.
Beside those few things on the agenda, we are also strategizing our plan of attack for the year with our schools in the Healthy Schools program. It’s the first full year in the program for most of our schools, so we will see what kind of initiative they take in setting up Health Corners, planning lessons, and implementing schedules for teeth brushing and hand-washing. I also hope to keep working with the youth group I worked with over the summer, and start a moms’ cooking class.
So there you have it. Instead of a day in the life, it’s a month in the life (mas-o-menos). Although it seems like a lot to me now, I am sure that I will still find time for 2 hour lunch breaks, the required 9 hours of sleep a night, and a trip to the beach with Wiley. Unfortunately, season three of Veronica Mars might have to wait until February.
An old old post finally hitting the blog-o-sphere
I come inside from washing dishes and try to figure out how I am going to thaw out my frozen fingers. Hot dishwater and inside sinks- some things I miss. Despite the frozen fingers, I have been glad to be back in Patzún after my short trip to the US. I realize I haven’t written about this experience, MY FIRST TRIP BACK TO THE US, quite a big experience for all PCVs. Since I am about to head back to the States for Christmas, I figure it is about time to thaw out my fingers and sit down to write about this momentous occasion.
In my youth group, we spent some time a few weeks ago talking about roles we play- sister, daughter, friend, student, etc., and the impact they have on our values and decisions. The first role that jumped to my mind to use as an example was FOREIGNER. Without really realizing it, this has been my primary role for the past year. I am taller and whiter than everyone, dress differently, and live on my own. As I walk through my town, I wonder what people think of me. Do they recognize me? Do they wonder why I am here? Do I look as out of place as I imagine?
Of course its different with people I have come to know, but with them my FOREIGNER label still applies. I may be one of the few Estadounidenses that they will get to know. For them I may represent an entire country and culture, and they will probably grow to dislike American food through my cooking (today’s chili was a bit heavy on the chili for my host fam’s tastes).
So after spending so many months in the role of FOREIGNER, I was excited and curious to see what it would be like to shed the weight of being the GRINGA and go back to my more familiar labels- sister, daughter, and friend.
When I arrived in the US, the Miami airport was overwhelming to me. I felt small in a sea of diversity. So I made a beeline for Starbucks, and sipping my Q40 Peppermint Mocha Frappachino, I sat down to stare at people (I think “people watch” is the more polite term). Lesson #1 from the US: DON’T CONVERT PRICES TO QETZALES. You will cry. Lesson #2 from the US: staring is less culturally acceptable there than in Guatemala.
From there on, a lot of the trip is a blur. I remember extreme excitement at the prospect of being able to wear what I now consider my “short dresses,” getting a stomachache from trying to eat all of my favorite (and random) foods in just 3 days, and being able to run a long time now that I was back at sea level. I was so happy to see my extended family and share Thanksgiving with them. I also remember thinking how nice the bathroom was.
It was wonderful, but it no longer felt like my life. The best way to explain this weird feeling is that I felt like I had stumbled upon someone else’s life that happened to fit me quite nicely. Or, I could compare it to an old pair of favorite jeans that you find at the back of a drawer after a few years. You want to wear them, but bedazzled jeans just aren’t in style any more.
Being here in Guatemala, I forget how different my life is, because most differences are subtle. I don’t live in a shack in the campo without electricity or water. I have wireless Internet for God’s sake. But being in the US, I worried that with my longer trip home in December I could get used to that familiar comfort and forget that I no longer live there.
Flying home (to Guatemala) I pondered these thoughts while taking in the view. Flying into Florida all you can see is flatness. A vast flatness covered in ocean, and houses and forests. But flying into Guatemala, the mountains rise out of the clouds. Towns run along the edges of ravines, snaking every which-way, as dictated by the topography. A mushroom cloud of black smoke is suspended, immobile, among cottony clouds and tops of volcanoes. It is breathtaking. And all of the sudden it was clear why I made this choice, and why I will come back, despite the comfort that I may find in my old home.
Flat is easy, it is comfortable, but mountains are beautiful, with all of the obstacles and challenges they present. The mountains are what make life interesting. So while I look forward to a well-deserved rest at sea-level, I am also excited for the challenges and opportunities that await me in my next year here in Guatemala.
In my youth group, we spent some time a few weeks ago talking about roles we play- sister, daughter, friend, student, etc., and the impact they have on our values and decisions. The first role that jumped to my mind to use as an example was FOREIGNER. Without really realizing it, this has been my primary role for the past year. I am taller and whiter than everyone, dress differently, and live on my own. As I walk through my town, I wonder what people think of me. Do they recognize me? Do they wonder why I am here? Do I look as out of place as I imagine?
Of course its different with people I have come to know, but with them my FOREIGNER label still applies. I may be one of the few Estadounidenses that they will get to know. For them I may represent an entire country and culture, and they will probably grow to dislike American food through my cooking (today’s chili was a bit heavy on the chili for my host fam’s tastes).
So after spending so many months in the role of FOREIGNER, I was excited and curious to see what it would be like to shed the weight of being the GRINGA and go back to my more familiar labels- sister, daughter, and friend.
When I arrived in the US, the Miami airport was overwhelming to me. I felt small in a sea of diversity. So I made a beeline for Starbucks, and sipping my Q40 Peppermint Mocha Frappachino, I sat down to stare at people (I think “people watch” is the more polite term). Lesson #1 from the US: DON’T CONVERT PRICES TO QETZALES. You will cry. Lesson #2 from the US: staring is less culturally acceptable there than in Guatemala.
From there on, a lot of the trip is a blur. I remember extreme excitement at the prospect of being able to wear what I now consider my “short dresses,” getting a stomachache from trying to eat all of my favorite (and random) foods in just 3 days, and being able to run a long time now that I was back at sea level. I was so happy to see my extended family and share Thanksgiving with them. I also remember thinking how nice the bathroom was.
It was wonderful, but it no longer felt like my life. The best way to explain this weird feeling is that I felt like I had stumbled upon someone else’s life that happened to fit me quite nicely. Or, I could compare it to an old pair of favorite jeans that you find at the back of a drawer after a few years. You want to wear them, but bedazzled jeans just aren’t in style any more.
Being here in Guatemala, I forget how different my life is, because most differences are subtle. I don’t live in a shack in the campo without electricity or water. I have wireless Internet for God’s sake. But being in the US, I worried that with my longer trip home in December I could get used to that familiar comfort and forget that I no longer live there.
Flying home (to Guatemala) I pondered these thoughts while taking in the view. Flying into Florida all you can see is flatness. A vast flatness covered in ocean, and houses and forests. But flying into Guatemala, the mountains rise out of the clouds. Towns run along the edges of ravines, snaking every which-way, as dictated by the topography. A mushroom cloud of black smoke is suspended, immobile, among cottony clouds and tops of volcanoes. It is breathtaking. And all of the sudden it was clear why I made this choice, and why I will come back, despite the comfort that I may find in my old home.
Flat is easy, it is comfortable, but mountains are beautiful, with all of the obstacles and challenges they present. The mountains are what make life interesting. So while I look forward to a well-deserved rest at sea-level, I am also excited for the challenges and opportunities that await me in my next year here in Guatemala.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
New Year, New Post
After being home in the US, and having at least 3 people tell me that at some time or another they have logged onto my blog, I figured that I should get back to writing for my audience's sake. So I promise anyone reading this that I will post a REAL blog entry very soon.
Until then, those who occasionally alleviate their boredom by checking my blog can keep up with Guatemalan adventures on my little brother's blog. Thats right- Wiley is heading down to Guatemala tomorrow to spend three weeks hanging out with me, working on a world map, and teaching me to cook (among other things). Let's hope that is good enough to get him college credit. You can check out his fresh perspective on life here at his blog: Wiley's Guat-e Blog Too
wileysguateblogtoo.blogspot.com
cute huh?
After a great trip home it will be nice to have some company while I adjust back to my Guatemalan life. It was wonderful to see so many people on my vacation. If I visited you, you now owe me a visit, and if I didn't get to see you, well that is a perfect reason for you to come see me!
Until then, those who occasionally alleviate their boredom by checking my blog can keep up with Guatemalan adventures on my little brother's blog. Thats right- Wiley is heading down to Guatemala tomorrow to spend three weeks hanging out with me, working on a world map, and teaching me to cook (among other things). Let's hope that is good enough to get him college credit. You can check out his fresh perspective on life here at his blog: Wiley's Guat-e Blog Too
wileysguateblogtoo.blogspot.com
cute huh?
After a great trip home it will be nice to have some company while I adjust back to my Guatemalan life. It was wonderful to see so many people on my vacation. If I visited you, you now owe me a visit, and if I didn't get to see you, well that is a perfect reason for you to come see me!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Who needs to go to the Peten? I've got jungle in my backyard
Important Peace Corps lesson #1 (or maybe #44331 at this point): you never know when you will be surprised with a really cool experience.
This morning I had agreed to go out to one of the communities where we work to take pictures of their water system for a grant we are helping them complete. This community has only 20 families, and they built their own gravity fed water system out of small PVC tubing and barbed wire. The terrain is mountainous, and in various places, they had explained to us, the tubing was strung across ravines. This manner of construction left the tubes vulnerable to both the natural elements and water thieves who drill holes in the PVC to steal the community’s water. An engineer we are working with on a project in the school wants to replace these parts with sturdier metal tubing.
I arrived at the community with Juan, my trusted taxi driver and friend (there is no transportation to this community and its too far to walk), and expected to see a few tubes and be done in an hour or less. We started off through the few houses that make up the village, through the cornfields, now grown up tall around the houses, and headed into the woods. The woods there look a lot like Florida woods, and the air is clear and crisp. It is beautiful, and I was loving it. Two “bridges,” or sections of tubes spanning ravines, later I was feeling good. So when they told me that from there on the terrain got worse and that they weren’t sure if we should go on, I insisted that I needed the photos and measurements, and we pressed on. We passed through a lush river canon and started to climb. An hour and a half and 5 “bridges” later found me feeling like a novice Avatar on Pandora. I tried to act cool, but there were a few times where my life flashed before my eyes as I pictured myself tumbling down a cliff. “Throw yourself uphill,” advised the wise village mayor. I felt even more foolish when I found out one of our guides had a fractured knee (or something like that, they were all speaking Kaqchikel and Juan wasn’t helping much to translate). I decided it was time to turn around while I still could. At this point, hiked almost 2 hours into the mountains, they informed me that we had only reached the middle of the water system and had covered the most manageable terrain. I am still flabbergasted that this tiny community built and maintains such an extensive and vulnerable water system, and that they were able to engineer a gravity fed system over kilometers and kilometers of mountains.
At one point while we were hiking, a helicopter passed overhead, and Juan made a joke that we were guerillas hiding in the forest from the army. Later I got a chance to talk to the community leaders about the “violence” as they call it, and found out that 7 members of their community were disappeared during that time. Many more left the community and moved into the municipality, where it was safer. In those times, they told me, one couldn’t wander around the mountain like we did today with out the fear of being found and killed by either the army or the guerillas. It’s interesting to note that in many history books and in many circles here in Guatemala these years are referred to as “The Civil War.” Indeed they were ended in 1996 with Peace Accords, as if these years comprised a legitimate war. But here in this community that lived only the violence and sided neither with the guerilla or army, their name for the time period describes their experience. In college I took a class on periods of state violence in Latin America and read multiple books about how Guatemala spent the better part of second half of the 20th century, but being there in that forest and talking to people who can claim that as part of their life and history is an inexplicably different experience.
I arrived home exhausted, full of soda and imitation cheese puffs that we had been served after the hike (the things I do for confianza), but grateful for such an incredible morning. After lunch I headed off to teach English, which is not always my favorite activity even on days when I haven’t been dragged all over the mountains. Last week we learned how to make words plural. So today while reviewing pronouns, 7 year old Wesley solemnly informed me that if “They” were plural, it would be “Theies,” and I was reminded of another Peace Corps lesson: it’s the small victories that count.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Día de los Muertos
This is the first year that I can remember that I haven’t dressed up for Halloween. I am really not sure what my parents did when I was a baby, but that can’t really count. It was strange how un-strange it was. Here in Guatemala we celebrate Día de los Muertos instead of Halloween, and I think I greatly preferred it, minus missing all of the post-halloween-on-sale-candy.
For Día de los Muertos families decorate and visit the tombs of their loved ones, and their own future tombs. My host siblings, who are 7 and 9, already have their own designated tomb space. I believe that wealthier families may build tombs for their children as soon as they are born, which is a strange concept for me- to be so conscious of and prepared for the inevitability of death. This tradition also reflects the importance of family and home in the culture here. Families are all buried together in their hometown; not as many people leave the towns they were born in, and even if they do, the town remains a center for ritual and family. Because of all who return to Patzún for this special day, the town was especially full. At night we went down to the cemetery, where Laura’s host family sells food and hung out in the festival-like atmosphere with the rest of the town.
Another important part of October and November and celebrating Day of the Dead is kite flying. This has to be the best way ever to celebrate a holiday. Better than a bunny, better than lots of presents, and better than green beverages. Tissue paper kites can either be made or cheaply bought, and the whole month leading up to Day of the Dead kids can be seen on the roofs of their houses flying their kites. I tried my hand at kite making with our girls group, and it was a lot harder than it looked (mine came out a bit crooked). All of the boys and some of the girls know the special sticks that are needed, how to measure and build the frame with these sticks and thread, and are more creative in decorating their kites than I have seen them in any other endeavor. I went out kite flying Saturday, Sunday, and Tuesday. I am addicted.
The kids from our world map project all made kites representing different countries that they chose and researched. I hopefully will be able to post some pics soon. They are very impressive. Almost as impressive as the kites that I saw at the kite festival in Sumpango, my training town.
Sumpango is nationally and internationally famous for the giant kites that are made and flown there for Nov. 1st. I had been looking forward to going to see them since training in January, and I was not disappointed. The kites were up to 25 or 30 meters tall and showed elaborate and beautiful designs made out of tissue paper. They are built on huge bamboo frames, and displayed all day for locals and tourists. Then come the attempts to fly them. Before we had to leave we saw maybe 6 or 7 of the smaller kites (my height) try to leave the ground. When one would start to rise everyone would scream and cheer, but most would quickly nose dive, causing a lot more screaming, and a lot of running to get out of the way. As fun as it was to see one of the kites rise way up into the sky and stay there, the crashes were pretty fun too. We left at 3:30 and all of the bigger kites still had to be flown, so I still have no sure answer on whether the huge ones can actually fly or not, but I bet those crashes are a lot more dangerous. Some of the huge kites fell over and were destroyed before they even got a chance to try to fly. Seeing as how it can take 3 months to build these kites, that has to be a disappointment.
I wish I had more information about where this tradition came from. I have heard that the kites come from the influence of Chinese immigrants. Where ever they come from, they fit the holiday perfectly, as November is a time of year with little rain and lots of wind. Since this wind isn’t used for sailing, I guess kites are the next best thing.
For Día de los Muertos families decorate and visit the tombs of their loved ones, and their own future tombs. My host siblings, who are 7 and 9, already have their own designated tomb space. I believe that wealthier families may build tombs for their children as soon as they are born, which is a strange concept for me- to be so conscious of and prepared for the inevitability of death. This tradition also reflects the importance of family and home in the culture here. Families are all buried together in their hometown; not as many people leave the towns they were born in, and even if they do, the town remains a center for ritual and family. Because of all who return to Patzún for this special day, the town was especially full. At night we went down to the cemetery, where Laura’s host family sells food and hung out in the festival-like atmosphere with the rest of the town.
Another important part of October and November and celebrating Day of the Dead is kite flying. This has to be the best way ever to celebrate a holiday. Better than a bunny, better than lots of presents, and better than green beverages. Tissue paper kites can either be made or cheaply bought, and the whole month leading up to Day of the Dead kids can be seen on the roofs of their houses flying their kites. I tried my hand at kite making with our girls group, and it was a lot harder than it looked (mine came out a bit crooked). All of the boys and some of the girls know the special sticks that are needed, how to measure and build the frame with these sticks and thread, and are more creative in decorating their kites than I have seen them in any other endeavor. I went out kite flying Saturday, Sunday, and Tuesday. I am addicted.
The kids from our world map project all made kites representing different countries that they chose and researched. I hopefully will be able to post some pics soon. They are very impressive. Almost as impressive as the kites that I saw at the kite festival in Sumpango, my training town.
Sumpango is nationally and internationally famous for the giant kites that are made and flown there for Nov. 1st. I had been looking forward to going to see them since training in January, and I was not disappointed. The kites were up to 25 or 30 meters tall and showed elaborate and beautiful designs made out of tissue paper. They are built on huge bamboo frames, and displayed all day for locals and tourists. Then come the attempts to fly them. Before we had to leave we saw maybe 6 or 7 of the smaller kites (my height) try to leave the ground. When one would start to rise everyone would scream and cheer, but most would quickly nose dive, causing a lot more screaming, and a lot of running to get out of the way. As fun as it was to see one of the kites rise way up into the sky and stay there, the crashes were pretty fun too. We left at 3:30 and all of the bigger kites still had to be flown, so I still have no sure answer on whether the huge ones can actually fly or not, but I bet those crashes are a lot more dangerous. Some of the huge kites fell over and were destroyed before they even got a chance to try to fly. Seeing as how it can take 3 months to build these kites, that has to be a disappointment.
I wish I had more information about where this tradition came from. I have heard that the kites come from the influence of Chinese immigrants. Where ever they come from, they fit the holiday perfectly, as November is a time of year with little rain and lots of wind. Since this wind isn’t used for sailing, I guess kites are the next best thing.
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