Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Enlightened, Enchanted, Excited, Exhausted...and the Antonyms

I’ve finished my first month of Peace Corps training and needless to say I can’t explain everything in a concise blog post. I’ve successfully reentered the college-mindset. It’s still devastating that I ever left college by default of graduation, but I’ve returned to the regiment of daily classes, alternating among general Peace Corps training and development philosophies, technical training, and Spanish. Spanish is more of an ongoing process—never quite “finishing class for the day.”

We spent three days with temporary host-families in Santa Lucia, before moving to Parramos, where I’ll live until I am sworn-in as an official PCV. Parramos is a small town about 30 minutes northwest of the Antigua (the tourist capitol). I live with a host-mom and host-brother in one house, while my two host-sisters, their spouses and daughters live in two other houses—all situated in the same housing-compound. I think of my house/yard more like a motel, as I enter separate rooms from the outside of the house and the kitchen/dining room are in a building separate from the bedrooms. Meanwhile, like a motel, new family members and friends are coming and going daily.

I’m mastering my daily routine of eating, studying, running, bucket-showers, and getting to bed at an hour far too early for someone my age. My bedtime habits are more like that of my 10-year-old-self; and if you knew me in college, you might be able to imagine this paradigm a bit more vividly.

At every meal, I enjoy corn tortillas, usually accompanied by black beans that are prepared any of three ways. Beside the basics, I’ve tried a gamut of Guatemalan dishes too—¡Que rico! For dessert, I take a prenatal vitamin. No, I’m not expecting—Peace Corps prescribed.

The weather is comfortable during the day and cold at night. Each morning, I warm-up with a cup of coffee and a cup of hot cereal drink—one for each hand.

I’ve toured historic parts of Antigua, attended a quinceaƱera , attended a funeral (piggybacked onto a wedding), climbed Volcan Pacaya and roasted marshmallows on the molten lava, visited Guatemala City, and ridden on packed, converted-school buses that interpret the “Capacity 77” guideline as “100 Riders Minimum.” This is my life.

My good friend from college, Ben, visited me in Parramos, before starting his job at a school on Lake Atitlan. We don’t like to travel very far apart while abroad anywhere in the world. The world is my backyard and it has just gotten very big (or incredibly small).

Everyday, every hour, every minute feels different. When I feel most comfortable and confident, a new challenge arises. When times are rough, I’m re-enchanted and get excited for what is to come. I can never quite articulate a single emotion. I’m trying to keep a list of words summarizing each day. In the end, I think I’ll have manifested an amalgam of nonsense—such is my brain right now. No continuity, just one winding rollercoaster. I think I’m prepared for the succeeding months—just ask me in five more minutes.