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.