Anecdotes from Guatemala

Word a Day, 2009 - 2011

2011-04-07T09:01:00.000-07:00

From January 6, 2009 to March 26, 2011, I did my best to write a word to sum up my experiences of each day in Guatemala. Sometimes, my emotions were easy to define and other times, they were so standard that I would have reused the same word over and over. Peace Corps is a constant flux of emotions from day to day and moment to moment; one minute I'm more frustrated than ever and the next is the best of my life.

In the end, I know myself better - my strengths, my weaknesses and my goals. Peace Corps has been one of my most formative experiences and without the good and the bad the ending would have been different.

Words to describe my days as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Guatemala:

anticipation – comprehension – comfortable – exciting – grinding – exhausting – crazy – ridiculous – frustrating – happy – irregular – annoyed – variable – hilarious – joyful – adventurous – nervous – satisfied – rested – thankful – terrified – sick – energized – marginalized – organized – funny – anticipating – exhausted – unwelcome – communication – leisure – limitations – reunited – stuck – sad – reflective – refreshed – stimulated – prospects – up-beat – lethargic – nauseated – rollercoaster – patience – surprised – determined – intense – worn-out – loved – slow – ripped-off – successful – excited – reconnecting – re-enchanted – breadth – luxury – travel – celebratory – complimentary – sick – worn-out – normalcy – organized – communicative – nightmare – upset – field trip – solidarity – exhilarating – broken – enduring – compromising – waste – re-prioritizing – defeat – accomplished – intimidating – tired – content – relaxed – validated – annoyed – pensive – studious – careless – favorite – prolonged – lugubrious – spectacle – busy – fever – diarrhea – touchy – re-evaluating – sorting – sympathy – shock – instable – effort – blast – rough – scattered – cooperative – wet – visualizations – trying – hopeful – tasks – expensive – overwhelmed – reconnect – catch-up – fluency – conscious – isolated – frivolous – illogical – disciplining – awe – reunited – consequences – worthwhile – satisfied – whirlwind – eloquent – sleepy – integrating – punchy – stares – effort – faith – focused – generosity – argument – lonely – lethargic – reunited – quality-time – habits – values – understanding – pulled – constricted – typical – liberated – bittersweet – joyful – genuine – refreshing – pithy – respect – infected – limits – meaningful – community – exhausted – distraught – exerting – content – confined – daunting – relief – hope – driven – improvising – defeated – angry – improved – pleased – forced – misunderstood – order – awkward – dazed – freezing – haggard – fed-up – jovial – clean – apprehensive – hot – dragging – laughter – ecstatic – smooth – highlight – efficient – shocked – memorial – aches – hostile – freebies – irritated – surprises – lazy – outgoing – petty – fallout – exertion – surmounted – renewed – robbed – fulfilled – criticized – cozy – rushed – ambiguity – trials – delighted – experiences – available – wild – perplexed – sly – sociable – reclusive – intentional – ordinary – comical – special – recovered – balanced – chatting – adapting – perspectives – parallel – controlled – confident – cumbersome – assessing – melancholy – overjoyed – aggravated – habit – persuasive – friendly – positive – pushed – competitive – bonding – still – justifying – dazed – experienced – unusual – poor – laboring – upbeat – dumbfounded – binge – downtrodden – sluggish – nostalgic – incorrigible – scorching – jam-packed – examination – relaxed – viscous – joking – crash – normalcy – washing – trapped –frantic – hopeless – grieving – gone – grounded – luck – pulled – reflective – strategy – purpose – bureaucratic – intelligent – known – stride – worn – draining – lifeless – authority – scattered – ethics – progression – careless – inspired – complaint – comfortable – flexibility – worthwhile – killed – ignorance – unsettled – counseled – weak – educational – risk – sour – pleased – regressing – hugs – catch-up – blessed – feat – funny – standfast – torrential-downpour – drying – simple – used – overwhelmed – inarticulate – nebulous – restoration – deadlines – disenchanted – rapid – chill – debriefing – corrupt – balancing – excluded – wet – efficient – rude – vigor – adventure – salty – moving – articulate – defeated – passive-aggressive – ignored – sought – agenda – purposeless – bitches – order – reacquainting – serendipity – meaningful – social – disdain – cover-up – emotional – breather – apathetic – adventure – zombie – expressionless – mindless – solutions – daring – repair – soul-searching – redefining – resourceful – bonus – bifurcated – community – culture – traps – pain – minutes – political – cathartic – peers – identity – moderation – forced – pretentious – connecting – admitting – unresponsive – organic – finals – comatose – locked – illogical – impatient – puzzle – endurance – explaining – hospitalized – contact – lounging – determination – noise – flaky – precarious – foraging – debate – petrified – indulgent – confined – competitive – boxed – planning – festive – justice – guardian – gaunt – relief – culminating – enamored – spectacle – legend – exchange – awe-inspiring – letdown – obsessive – recharged – bros – nostalgic – reckless – low-key – blocked – hidden – liberated – closer – fruition – creative – candid – connected – barfed – fulfilled – unreciprocated – resigned – unsatisfied – waves – heartbreaking – inklings – anxious – capstone – firsts – traversing – trust – separation – restless – story-telling – carefree – unity – untamed – sleepless – rushed – end – irritated – celebratory – tears

These faces all say it all...or most of it.

Lessons Learned

2011-04-07T08:42:00.000-07:00

Graduating from college, I said that those were the most important four years of my life up to that point. “Graduating” from Peace Corps (that’s how we joke about it anyway), I might say that these have been the most important two years of my life up to this point. And somewhere down the line, something else might come along that will irreversibly change me. Regardless, if I break certain segments of my life into chunks, I can more easily think back to what I thought before and what I think after.

Since doing Peace Corps, I have learned:

1. Every person does his or her own part to contribute to the world. Not everyone will contribute the same, but everyone’s part keeps things in working order.
2. It’s always worth daring. Most of the time, the most gutsy moves turn out to be the greatest successes. Acting wisely and looking foolish are not mutually exclusive.
3. Confidence is golden. The more confident I am in trusting my instincts, the more authentically I can carry out my life.
4. Friendship has no age limit. My closest friends are often 20-years-younger than me or even 40-years-older than me and both perspectives are fresh and wise in their own ways.
5. The world is filled with problems and there is no way all of them will go away through the efforts of any single person. It takes lots of people doing their parts to support even a single person and even more people to challenge or defeat a greater issue or problem at hand.
6. Sometimes I can be altruistic, lots of times I’m selfish.
7. I’m a strange person and so is the next one. And that is what makes people interesting.
8. Material things are material and will inevitably break, get lost, or lose value down the line, so it’s more important to invest in the intangible. Community triumphs.
9. Efficiency has its place and so do prolonged events with no end in sight. Being completely present is usually the most effective means of working and living.
10. My life doesn’t have to follow a specific timeline. Everything usually falls into place at the perfect moments. Patience is a discipline.
11. I can endure more than I thought—from boredom to trauma.
12. Life and death are inevitable and I am not invincible.
13. Maintaining a relationship is a job, whether it extends across countries or a few neighborhood blocks. Part of the maintenance includes communicating, sitting in silence and solidarity together, laughing, crying and being reliable.
14. I can be alone and be comfortable being alone. So much of college centered on constant contact with others and so much of Peace Corps centered on constant contact with “me, myself and I”.
15. Thinking back on it all, I wouldn’t change a moment, because each moment brought me to thinking what I think now.

It’s gone incredibly fast and suddenly it’s ending. It’s been a wild ride!

And along with thinking a little differently in respect to life and how I want to live it, after 27 months in another country, everybody looks a little different for the wear. Two years is a long time, but it wasn’t 15?! My departure on January 6, 2009 was a lifetime ago.

The Photo Collage of the Last 120 Days

2011-02-18T11:24:00.000-08:00

My site-mate of a year-and-a-half finished her time in Peace Corps last October.

Todos Santos feria: first celebrating Halloween as an ayudante and the next day celebrating All Saints Day with a fellow PCV and the first female rider in a 400+ year history of the horse competitions.

The bat caves in Lanquín, Alta Verapaz and the picturesque Semuc Chempey.

Thanksgiving in Campur, Alta Verapaz: cleaning the duck, cooking the duck and eating the final product on a plate for three.

Santa comes to a kids' camp.

"'Tis the season." Washing and drying the Santa suit (Note the volcano in the background - Christmas in Guatemala.)

Celebrating Christmas with my Guatemalan family and fully celebrating the opportunity to stuff my face with tamales.

Reunions with family and friends: my sister and brother-in-law, my friend from Peace Corps Peru and a friend and former volunteer of Peace Corps Guatemala.

Our final Peace Corps conference with my training group of January 2009 (dressed Guatemalan [with serious faces] and with our Peace Corps bosses).

Riding the Ferris Wheel with friends at the San Se feria.

Solitude. No single landscape in Guatemala is the same as the next.

The Last 120 Days in 30 Statements

2011-02-16T13:37:00.000-08:00

I don’t think I could even narrow it all down to 30 statements and still describe it all, but for the sake of my readers’ attention-span, I’ll do my best. As a preface, I can say that these last three months were hands-down the most insane (and 50 other adjectives) months of my life. And that is what makes for great stories. These are the highlights:

1. Celebrating the end of my site-mate’s service in October and going to goodbye parties on a nightly basis, giving me party-gut-rot (lots of food…all the time).
2. Making a day-trip to Honduras and visiting the Copán ruins with my site-mate and her two friends as a last-hurrah before returning home.
3. Briefly visiting the U.S. for the first time in 13 months to celebrate the wedding of two friends.
4. Dressing up for the very American holiday, Halloween, and pretending to be an ayudante (helper – the guy who takes your bus fare).
5. Witnessing another year of the Todos Santos horse races to observe All Saints Day and watching two female PCVs compete (the first females to ever ride in its 400+ year history).
6. Hiking from San Sebastián to Todos Santos with a fellow PCV (in short, we crossed a very big mountain).
7. A visit to the hospital and a chance to catch up on the “Must See TV” that I haven’t seen since 2008.
8. A trip across the country to the renowned tourist locale – Semuc Champey.
9. “Spelunking” in a cave with bats circling my head. (That wasn’t just chance; we paid to do it.)
10. Foraging across a mountain for ducks to be slaughtered and cooked in a toaster-oven, Thanksgiving morning.
11. Celebrating Thanksgiving with other PCVs, eating dinner at 10:30PM and sharing that for which we were thankful in 2010.
12. Reuniting with my sister and brother-in-law for a whirlwind adventure across two countries and sharing the exciting and challenging parts of daily life in Guatemala.
13. Seeing Tikal for the second time (the first time in 2007)—still awe- inspiring.
14. Visiting Caye Caulker, Belize.
15. Making a round in the “camp season” (school vacation) and playing team building games with kids in San Ramón, Totonicapán at Camp K’amal B’e.
16. Dressing up as Santa Claus at Camp K’amal B’e, courtesy of a PCV friend who passed the costume down to me before he left last spring. Santa danced to “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz and “Manos Arriba” by Don Omar.
17. Seeing my friend Jared for the first time since 2008, as he progressed back to the U.S., after finishing his service in Peace Corps Peru.
18. Celebrating Christmas with family from afar through an email chain, explaining donations we had made in honor of Advent/Christmas to organizations each of us treasured for different reasons.
19. Celebrating Christmas my Guatemalan family and friends. The agenda: wait until midnight, light firecrackers and eat tamales.
20. Roasting marshmallows on Christmas Day.
21. Celebrating New Year’s Eve (Christmas Eve, part II) with the same family and friends, forcing down four tamales in one night, bringing my final count to 15 tamales eaten between Christmas and New Year’s.
22. Hiking from Todos Santos, Huehuetenango to Nebaj, Quiche, crossing challenging terrain, seeing beautiful and remote places, and getting to know the group of PCVs with whom I hiked, a little better.
23. Surviving the end of the Todos Santos to Nebaj hike with a bacterial infection and enduring a six hour bus ride to find a resolution with a lab test. Cipro is magic.
24. Completing my final Peace Corps meeting and celebrating with the compañeros (my fellow PCVs) who did it with me. We got through it with the support of each other!
25. Enduring my last town feria (fair), staying up into the wee hours of the morning, riding the Ferris Wheel more than desired and surviving street-food with a stomach of steel.
26. Hosting two PCVs to witness the feria with their own eyes and stealing the show with one at that was the town dance, turned competition. Signature move: a running start into a slide across the dance floor.
27. Reuniting with a good friend who finished Peace Corps last March and was back in Guatemala researching. Reveling in the good ol’ days (of 2009 and 2010)!
28. Sending off a close PCV-friend with sushi, sake bombs and lots of pictures.
29. Sharing moments that organically happen with PCVs and Guatemalans in the present, or friends and family over Skype, or by myself in the solitude of fresh air, a good book, or my own daydreams.
30. Bringing the finale at our final Peace Corps meeting with my presentation of our evolved faces over these last two years, set to the music of “Changes” by David Bowie. We’ve all aged 15 years for the better or worse!

What a ride! Five weeks to go. Time is running short.

Christmas Anticipation in Guate

2010-12-23T11:05:00.000-08:00

As always, a lot has happened since I last posted (which is why I was busy not posting), so I will be sure to write some kind of synopsis of that last three to four months, very soon. It's been a whirlwind to say the least.

Nevertheless, I'd like to send my greetings to everyone in my support network from afar. If it weren't for letters, emails and visits from friends and family back home, my time here would not have been nearly as balanced and impacting in deciding how I hope to live my life in the U.S. and knowing the people by whom I want to be surrounded. Furthermore, if it weren't for the Guatemalans with whom I live and interact on a daily basis, I wouldn't have learned nearly as much. I'm grateful for all of you and I am excited to reunite in 2011!

Merry Christmas. Happy new year. Be well.

Still here...

2010-09-17T14:04:00.000-07:00

It’s been over five months since I made my last post. If I was in college, I would have completed my longest stint abroad with little to no contact or update stateside. Here, I blinked and all that time just slipped by. While everyone in the U.S. is beginning a new school year, marked by new responsibilities and more structure after the long summer days, here in Guatemala, we’re wrapping up the school year and moving into the dry season, which is a welcome relief to see days completed with clear skies and sun.

I can’t cover it all; rather, I’ll make a semi-manageable list of some the anecdotes from the last five-plus months. I’ll do my best to record some highlights.

The 10 Best Things of the Past 5+ Months

2010-09-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

1. Taking a day-trip to Lake Atitlan and visiting Pura Vida with my teachers of Chiquilá. The day was dedicated to learning about sustainable environmental practices and the potential of using plastic bottles filled with plastic, inorganic trash as “bricks” to construct walls for our pending kitchen expansion project.

2. Turning 25! I’m a quarter-century old. I came into Peace Corps when I was 23 and suddenly two birthdays have past me by. I look back on pictures from my 24th birthday and it feels like a lifetime ago – everything about my Guatemalan livelihood is different now.

3. Briefly crossing the border into Mexico for a quick vacation to San Cristóbal, Chiapas. Another PCV friend and I made the trip for a little diversion from Guatemala. Neither of us had been out of the country for over nine months.

4. A week-and-a-half-long visit from a close college friend. Miriam, was here researching service organizations and getting glimpse of Guatemalan culture, experiencing everything we could pack into ten days. We talked about vocation, life and laughed at pictures from our freshman year of college. And of course I celebrated another U.S. Independence Day in Guatemala, so Miriam participated in the epic Peace Corps Fourth of July party.

5. A nearly two week visit from my parents. After nearly a year of not seeing each other, my parents landed in Guatemala for a whirlwind adventure for their second time (their first visit being in 2007 when my sister and brother-in-law were PCVs). We set out for a brief visit to El Salvador and lounged on the Pacific Coast, before heading back to Huehuetenango, where they stayed in my site, visited a school and traveled down rough roads with gorgeous views. We laughed and cried – both crucial for the full experience.

6. Racing, racing, racing. I ran a half-marathon in Antigua, followed by a half-marathon in the mountains of Huehue, followed by a 10k in Chiantla. Perhaps the second of the three races was the hardest…of my life. My parents were still here, so I sent them up to the summit of the Cuchamatenes (the mountain chain in Huehue) with a Spanish-speaking taxi driver (my parents speak English of course), while I ascended 4,500 feet (reaching an altitude of 11,000 above sea-level). In a word: painful.

7. An epic day trip with my site-mate one weekend to Copavic recycling center in Cantel, near Xela. Copavic is the only place (at least relative to where we live) that recycles glass, so we went with two filled bags (“bags” being large grain sacks) of recyclables in tow, watched artisans blow glass and returned with our own useful blown glass dishware. In all regards the day was an adventure with stories that would likely only be funny if you had been there.

8. Sharing culture. This has been part of my job all along, but the number of English classes I’ve been teaching in site has exploded. I can never get enough of the conversations in the streets, meals with friends, or runs with Guatemalans who have rarely run for pure enjoyment before.

9. Independence Day lands on September 15. It’s a hard time to get anything done in school, but spending Independence Day in my community (as well as any other major celebrations) was exciting. My site-mate and I took pictures of all the kids in the parade and mouthed the words of the Guatemalan National Anthem that we knew.

10. Everything that has happened via candlelight. The electricity has gone out a handful of times in the last few months, but pass time spent in the dark is always more charming. Being without lights is a time for games, food, conversation and innovation. I’ve eaten tamales in the dark twice. I might think differently if the electricity was out all the time.

It’s been a full five months. I imagine the next five will be even more packed.

Re. point #4: My friend Miriam and me after a day of singing and lesson-observing at one of my schools.

Re. point #5: Part of my American family and part of my Guatemalan family merged during my parents' visit in August.

Re. point #5: My parents and me in Antigua before they returned to the U.S.

Re. point #6: Peace Corps friends and me at the Antigua half-marathon.

Re. point #7: My site-mate, another Peace Corps friend and me at the Cantel recycling center, practicing for our wine and cheese parties when we're stateside with hand-blown stemware.

Re. point #9: The Independence Day parade in San Se.

Bartering, Trading and Paying It Forward

2010-09-17T12:41:00.000-07:00

My time in Guatemala is dwindling down to the final months. On a U.S. timeline, I might still have a pretty long haul forward, but in my Guatemalan mindset, I’m beginning to know what will get done and what just can’t be completed in the next seven months.

So though I wouldn’t really say I’m wrapping up, I’d say the big picture just isn’t such a far off eternity from now. And as I’m thinking about the end, I’m starting to think about the best parts of Guatemalan culture and wondering how I can incorporate those into my American lifestyle.

During training, we spent a long time examining culture and forming strategies for integrating once we landed in our respective sites. I remember reading about individualist versus collectivist concepts of self. The individualist puts his or her needs before those of the group and values self-reliance. Meanwhile, the collectivist depends on the group’s wellbeing to uphold the individual and values the importance of relationships.

Living with a host-family has been my most important experience of Peace Corps. I was hesitant to continue living with a family, wanting to regain some independence; however, it’s the interdependence of each other that I’ve learned to love. They help me. I help them. Everybody benefits.

Our typical collectivist interaction might follow this pattern: one of the kids uses some of my supplies for a school project, or one of the adults asks me for a couple of cloves of garlic for something she is cooking. Within a couple hours, the family invites me to sit down for afternoon coffee (a Guatemalan tradition, after the day’s work is done and sunset approaches) and fresh baked bread. Or perhaps I cook some kind of strange American dish for dinner (and it’s always fun to see their reaction when I say that a recipe like curry is Indian, but is popular in America…or any other variation on a dish that was imported into American culture) and give someone in the family a taste, someone else will turn around and give me a taste of their own tradition.

I know it will be different, but if I can have an open door with tangible and intellectual resources alike, to share in America, I know we’ll all have a better global understanding and compassion toward humanity, as long as our bartering and trading all circles back to paying it forward somewhere else.

Four of my Guatemalan roommates and me during the September 15 Independence Day celebrations.

Simply Simple

2010-04-03T10:48:00.000-07:00

As I write, I’m relaxing amidst Semana Santa (Holy Week). Virtually everything in Guatemala has shut down for a few days and I have no choice but to enjoy the week for what it is. Guatemalan celebrations are usually rather prolonged events and if my inherent American fixation on time controls me, it’s grounds to drive me crazy.

I’ve been thinking back on the last year lately. I remember that Easter last year was my first big holiday away from home during my Peace Corps voyage. It was sad to be away from family, but I was also grappling for legitimacy in the community where I had lived for a mere two weeks. Fortunately, 12 months later, I have goals to drive me forward, friends with whom to enjoy passing moments, and a slightly more relaxed mindset to understand that if something doesn’t happen in a given day, there is always tomorrow.

I can’t say that every moment of Peace Corps can be civilly summarized in a short story or sound like an introspective look within, but such is the case in life. Still, the moments that are great, are the ones on which I’d rather center my focus and summarize my year in-site.

A kid asks to play a game or watches me cook. A friend asks me to play soccer or teaches me to break-dance. A woman tells me to take a seat on the bench outside the store while we chat. An acquaintance shouts my name in Mam, Kuẍ (koosh), and we have a mini-Mam-dialogue…Tinb’aj teya…Nchin b’eta. Another Peace Corps Volunteer calls me just to tell a funny story of what just happened to him or her. These are the snapshots that make life interesting, entertaining, pleasant, significant, and hilarious.

It’s the simplest moments that are most meaningful at the end of each day. Most of my pictures from Peace Corps illustrate such moments. The photos aren’t always great: I’m sweaty, my jeans have been patched five times over, or I feel ill. But those are the real moments.

Game night with friends. Age is irrelevant sometimes.

Another small friend who entertains me while I work in my room.

Kids flying as I spin them. One of their favorite routines, as well as one of mine...until I'm dizzy.

My break-dancing teacher and me practicing a basic move.

Why be clean when you can be stained with paint? On Día de Diablo (Day of the Devil), December 7, painted devils run in the streets and stain bystanders. Así es la vida.

Peace Corps friends always fuel me with positive energy before another week of work faces me.

Feria Fever

2010-03-20T14:43:00.000-07:00

Feria (fair) happens once a year in San Se. The week-long festival honors Saint Sebastián who the pueblo is named after. Feria might be compared to town fairs or town “days” in the U.S. For my whole life at home, I experienced Maple Grove Days, where I worked at an over-populated pool, marched in a parade, or enjoyed fireworks. And in college, the city of Northfield became like kin to me, as I studied the story of the defeat of Jesse James and the Younger Gang, square danced with locals, watched the rodeo, or ran in the 15k.

In neither Maple Grove Days, nor Jesse James Days, did I ever feel pressured to witness and participate in everything…EVERYTHING. Since feria comes to San Se just once a year, Guatemalans do not take such attractions lightly. Peace Corps automatically forces an early bedtime, either due to waking up before dawn to travel up a mountain to school, or having friends who are 10-years-old or younger, who naturally go to bed earlier than a 20-something; however, my early bedtimes of the year past, made the feria all-nighters more challenging. If someone saw me making my way home at midnight, I was forced back to the park to watch people dressed in large cartoon-character costumes dance.

But perhaps it was the rueda (Ferris wheel) that proved most challenging in the wee-hours of the morning. The irregular eating schedule of constant street-food grazing might have been grounds for my Pepto Bismal dessert tablets, but for the first time in my amusement-ride-history, I felt nauseated. The rueda was operated with a small motor (maybe the size of one that belonged to a riding lawn mower), but the vueltas (turns) were fast enough to instill fear in even the most seasoned riders. Riding companions included an 11-year-old friend, a 21-year-old friend and her mother, and my site-mate. My total number of rides likely reached a dozen.

When the last day finally came and everyone seemed to be wandering in a sleep-deprived haze, we watched an impressive fireworks display and reveled in the community of San Sebastián, regardless of the long recovery time feria eventually forced.

A view of town from the medium-sized Ferris wheel, taken on one of many rides.

One of the more disturbing, yet awesome, costumes in the parade. The King of Pop is big in Guatemala.

A snippet from the grand finale fireworks at the end of the week.

12 months; 52 weeks; 365 days…

2010-03-20T14:25:00.000-07:00

Written January 6, 2010

I’m at the year mark. I’ve officially been in the Peace Corps for one year. I have three months to go, before I’m at my year mark for having been sworn-in as a volunteer, but I think a year in-country was one of the first major hurdles.

And while a year has flown past me, relatively quickly, it’s a good time to think of all that passed in one year. In the last year, I have…

…said goodbye to friends and family at home, unsure when our next reunion would be.
…learned Spanish for the second time and used it to communicate, rather than complete a worksheet in high school.
…learned how to live on my own in a new world.
…intercepted four different families and lived with each for varied periods.
…eaten at least half my weight in tortillas and tamales.
…become an elementary school teacher of sorts.
…kept in contact with friends and family through emails, letters and phone calls, and come to know who is among my closest support network.
…seen two friends and a sister get married.
…said goodbye to my first Guatemalan host-mom who passed away in November.
…climbed to the highest point in Central America.
…ridden on public transportation day-in-and-day-out, ranging from large vans, pick-ups, trucks, and converted school buses (or otherwise known as the infamous camioneta or chicken bus).
…waited…and waited…and employed, as one fellow volunteer coined, “Zen levels of patience and cultural sensitivity.”

It’s been an enlivening, exhausting, thrilling, challenging, thought-provoking experience with about 100 different adjectives at the same time. I hope the next year continues to force acceptance, awareness, goals, justice, appreciation, humility, solidarity, values and progress.

Victory Climb - the summit of the Volcán Tajumulco. One year down.

Christmas in San Se

2010-03-20T14:21:00.001-07:00

Once the fireworks began, Christmas had officially arrived; friends and family hugged and we got to eat our tamales. This was the very ambiguous sign for which I waited and anticipated the whole week before Christmas. As far as Christmas celebrations go, I can’t say that it was like anything I’ve experienced in the past, but the anticipation and the waiting and the quiet, followed by a fury of crackling in the streets and cheering from houses in the small pueblo of San Sebastián, led to a very rich experience to remember – one of the capstones to my first year in Peace Corps.

In years past, I’ve become accustomed to a church service in the early evening or late night, depending on the year. Relatives came to my family’s house, or we went to their houses. We would eat a big dinner. And often times, late at night, before we would go to bed, we would open gifts and prepare for more celebrating the next day.

Planted in my small town in Huehuetenango, I waited with the other Guatemalans who treated every hour until midnight much like any other day, completing various tasks or spending time with friends in nearby houses. But once 11:30 came around, we gathered and watched the clock, more than ready to eat and rejoice in the fact that Christmas had arrived.

I spent a couple hours with one family, waiting, watching the fireworks fill the sky, and devouring tamales in the half-coma that sets in when I wait to eat dinner after midnight. Later, I greeted my own Guatemalan family, the ones with whom I’ve lived during my months in-site, and gave the gifts my parents sent to share in the celebration from miles away. I ate four tamales and we went to bed around 2:30AM.

Christmas Day was rather tranquil, as we woke up late and lounged around, I played games with the kids, and we ate another meal. I’ve intercepted and adopted an entire family.

Oh, and the fireworks: if I ever had to describe my imagery of the Apocalypse, I’d likely describe Christmas Eve in Guatemala. Firecrackers burned in the streets and soaring explosives launched from house patios. Sometimes, in chaos, there is reason to celebrate.

Friends from town and me - just after midnight on Christmas.

¡Feliz Navidad y Prospero Año Nuevo!

2009-12-22T15:02:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all my readers - reading to understand, stay connected, and support me from afar! Muchísimo gracias. It’s been quite the year and one that will likely not get lost in the mix of memories over my lifetime. Here’s to a great new decade; one of new challenges and abundant joys. My best to all of you!

Merry Christmas from my house to yours!

My Life as a Song Writer

2009-12-22T13:57:00.000-08:00

Years after early inspiration from my first grade teacher who taught with his guitar and wrote songs for our class to get an early start on learning our multiples (7, 14, 21, 28, 35...), I've taken on the practice as my own form of teaching as well. Last fall, I finished writing a song parody to the popular Vicente Fernandez song, "El Chofer," and changed the words pertaining to healthy practices. I was also in charge of making up a cheer for the "Soy Pilas" theme at the sports camp with which I helped in November. These songs are now what I like to bring to birthday parties.

And the lyrics for my Vicente parody if you know Spanish...

Practicas Saludables
Parodia de El Chofer – Vicente Fernandez

Voy a tomar,
Agua hervida,
Porque no quiero infección en mi estomago.

Voy a vivir,
Sin microbios,
Porque no bebo agua fea del chorro.

Y sigan estos principios,
Por buen salud de sus cuerpos.

Voy a lavar,
Con agua y jabón,
Para quitar los chinches dentro del colchón,

Voy a vivir,
Con cuerpo limpio,
Porque no rasco la piel bien sano.

Aguas calientes y salvavidas de Huehue.
Adiós enfermedades.

Voy a tirar,
Desechos sucios,
En los lugares se llaman basureros,

Voy a vivir,
Con aire más fresco,
Porque no puedo respirar los químicos.

Y sigan estos principios,
Por buen salud de sus cuerpos.

No estamos enfermos (con gripe),
No estamos enfermos (con diarrea),
No estamos enfermos (con vómitos),
No estamos enfermos (con tos),
No estamos enfermos (con dolores),
No estamos enfermos (con amebas),
Porque seguimos las reglas.

Y sigan estos principios,
Por buen salud de sus cuerpos.

Soy saludable.

¡No tengo diarrea, no tengo lombrices, no tengo amebas, no tengo infecciones de los intestinos, solamente saludable y muy fuerte para vivir contento y alegre por el resto de mi vida!

¡Ay, estoy saludable!

¡Yo soy pilias! – Camp Season

2009-12-22T13:34:00.000-08:00

I attended my first summer camp in 1998. I was gone for a week and it felt like two years (wait, that’s Peace Corps). I remember counting the hours until the end of the week, when I would be back in the comforts of home, where I did not have to "care" for myself (which I think just included deciding how much food I would eat at meal times). And now I’ve been living this camp-like lifestyle for nearly 12 months.

I’ve gotten over my fear of being away from home, so now is my chance to relive my childhood. I’ve now completed three camps since school has been out, and I’m convinced that this is my calling (second to being an eternal college student).

Camp #1 took place in Las Marias, Quetzaltenango – site of an environmental education volunteer. A handful of PCVs took direction from one organized leader who planned to teach soccer, basketball, and baseball, to a group of fourth through sixth graders. Mixed in with the sports practice, we gave mini-lectures on health, teamwork, and self-esteem – all important reasons for practicing a sport. I wrote a cheer based on the week’s theme, “soy pilias” (I am motivated, hard working, strong, etc. – not a direct translation). Simultaneously, all the PCVs had fun living together in one house for a week.

Camp #2 passed in San Sebastián, where my site-mate and I took on the energy of 60-80 kids, ranging in age from 6-12, along with other recruited PCVs. For 3-4 hours everyday, we taught environmental themed lessons, expressed ourselves in arts and crafts, and ran wild with reckless game time. And though we had many successes throughout the week, I felt like I got good practice for school (which always needs to be tailored) and recognized new ways to develop better classroom management.

Camp #3 brought me to San Cristobal, Totonicapan, where we performed epic duties as “camp councilors.” The camp in San Cris focused on English classes, outdoor recreation, and arts and crafts. I mostly manned the outdoor recreation part for three groups of younger elementary-aged kids in the morning and old-elementary – junior high-aged kids in the afternoon. My main objective for the relatively random games was for the kids to work together as a team. We sang embarrassing songs and I lost my voice by the end of the week – totally worth it for me.

And now, after successive camps, meetings and Spanish classes at the Peace Corps center, and a Guatemalan Thanksgiving, I have returned to my site, not wanting to travel again for a very long time. Living out of a backpack gets to be a challenge. My own bed has never felt so comfortable!

Plenty of Material

2009-11-25T12:13:00.000-08:00

Often times, before I even have a chance to digest a day’s activities, or a week’s events, I find that another month has passed. I’ve suddenly been in Guatemala for nearly 11 months and have only produced an appropriate number of Blog posts and journal entries for someone who has been here for just a few months; in other words, I'm behind. I’ve found that writing long emails and letters that take a couple weeks to arrive stateside are my best outlet for writing in the moment and updating on specific events, rather than laborious summaries. In letters I don’t have the chance to recap the last 300-some days. Still, I owe it to my historical-side and loyal readers to say something more profound, more synthesized and more encapsulating about my experiences here in Guate. I will give the people what they want.

Enjoy the following posts and pictures! Que les vaya bien.

Scrapbook Moments

2009-11-25T11:52:00.000-08:00

A family adventure way back in May when my sister and brother-in-law came and we returned to their old site, where they lived as former volunteers in Peace Corps Guatemala.

My return home for my sister's wedding in September, after my first eight months in-country.

The clean-student award in one of my schools on International Hand Washing Day...sí profe...

My most pilas teachers in my most motivated school.

A college friend came to visit my site, after spending two months near Xela, taking Spanish classes.

Así es la vida…

2009-11-25T11:37:00.000-08:00

I think I’m finally starting to understand the importance of my relationships with Guatemalans and that those relationships are not just tools to improve my Spanish skills or become culturally immersed. It’s inevitable that my friends here will progressively become closer confidants as I see them on a daily basis. And while, my friends from the U.S. will always play an important role in my life, these two years will be most fully understood by the people who I live among.

Last week my host-mom from training, Doña Berta, died. I had just recently found out that she was sick and planned to visit her on my trip to the Peace Corps office. As many Guatemalan stories end, I didn’t completely understand the conclusion on how she died.

Many of us who lived in Parramos, and particularly those of us who lived with Doña Berta, went to the funeral to support the family. It felt a little like a high school reunion, with various generations (or training cycles) of volunteers who came together for an event. The family’s property was filled with friends, family and neighbors, all grieving and celebrating Doña Berta. The family had a lunch to serve the masses, and while visitors ate in the yard, Doña Berta’s bedroom housed the casket where visitors paid their respects.

Before the funeral began, the family and family carried the casket to the church. After the service, the pallbearers carried the casket to the cemetery and we watched them load the casket into the mausoleum and cement the side wall shut.

Amidst it all, the family was welcoming and happy to see the PCVs who came. The host-family from my training days are real friends, with real hugs, and sincere saludos.

At the end of the day, the family was still serving snacks to visitors who came through the house, and eventually I went to the other side of town to stay with another family who hosts Peace Corps trainees. We debriefed the day and ended saying, "así es la vida"(such is life). Everything has its beginning and its ending; the ending here proved to be sooner than expected, but I am happy to have had Doña Berta be part of my beginning in Peace Corps Guatemala.

Así es la vida…so seize the day.

Celebraciones

2009-11-25T11:16:00.000-08:00

The last couple months I have spent a significant amount of time in my site, free of traveling, free of weekend visits, and filled with lots of cultural immersion and integration. And though integration often proves to be a very frustrating process (still seven months after I arrived), some events make me feel fully engaged, knowing that I could not have done such things without the hours of rapport-building, or as we say in Guatemala, gaining confianza (trust).

After a quick surface dive into the U.S., vacationing to attend the weddings of four very important people, and a very challenging attempt to readjust, I felt like I finally had the chance to fully invest myself in my community here, once I returned. And it’s the “fully investing” part that is exhausting – mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Aside from Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, Guatemalans also celebrate one more Hallmark holiday called Día del Niño – a full day dedicated to celebrating kids. I went to my favorite school where I gave palabras (words), which Guatemalans consider essential to any sort of celebration. I danced to children’s songs with the other teachers and later, went home with a party bag full of candy. We were all included in kid’s day regardless that we are the teachers.

Vicente Fernandez, the renowned Mexican pop star appeared once again. I finished my parody for my students and sang to the tune of El Chofer about drinking clean water, washing your bedding and your body, as well as caring for the environment. I decided my career as a Mexican pop star might be more successful among the adolescent/adult crowd (my Spanish themes aren’t quite as funny among Mam speaking children).

I continue forced entertainment at birthday parties. One of my small friends turned one-year-old last month. The baby’s mom did not take any caution in celebrating big. Two clowns came to the party and whether the baby will ever know it or not, I participated with the clowns and a group of 150 Guatemalans…twice. I seem to be an easy target for audience participation, so I let the clowns direct me as they saw fit. Perhaps the pictures are the best explanation. I always have some doubts that I might get the directions wrong in Spanish, but that usually provides the perfect space for a well executed joke.

The big celebration, however, took place in Todo Santos for Día de Todos los Santos on November 1. After an attempted celebration of Halloween (not celebrated in Guatemala), we woke up early the next morning to watch the notorious horse races. Horses and their riders, run along a 250-300 meter track, back-and-forth until they reach exhaustion…or are eliminated along the way (I only saw two rider-less horses, after the riders had been thrown somewhere to the side lines). Todos Santos is filled with colorful indigenous traje (clothes) – women in the commonly worn woven skirts and blouses, and men in the less commonly worn red, striped pants and shirts with broad woven collars.

And then there was Guatemala’s Independence Day on September 15, and International Hand Washing Day for my students, and the list goes on.

I’ve come to know that Guatemalan celebrations are extravagant and that Guatemalans take as much time as they need in order to celebrate, regardless of stopping transportation or shutting down businesses. And that is the culture. Without a little added patience and a lot of willingness to participate and act like a fool in front of a crowd, my integration might have never progressed.

Casa of 10

2009-11-25T10:52:00.000-08:00

Next week marks my first eight months as a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer), after my initial three months as a PCT (Peace Corps Trainee). And the time since I began has been jam-packed with figuring out how to talk and then figuring out how to live. I was 23, with the skill-set of a college graduate and the functioning capacity of an infant. I feel a bit more competent in living like a Guatemalteco.

When I went on my site visit about a week before swearing-in, I secured my housing. Peace Corps Guatemala requires PCVs to live with a family for the first three months in site and after that time we can live in a house apart from a family. I came to the Martinez family as a stranger with limited Spanish and very little to talk about. The family converted their living area (mostly couch space) to my room where I’ve lived since I’ve been here. I had a bed that is a box-spring with a two-inch cushion on top and a table where I have two piles of clothes, my food, books, and toiletries. They accommodated their living space for me, but we all thought I would stay for three months.

After three months passed, I continually searched for a house. The house hunt in San Se is no easy task. Since classified ads don’t exist, I took on a door-to-door pursuit and asked multiple families and store owners if they were renting a house. About two months ago, I found an open house, and finally said I was interested in renting it, but was not sure how I would tell my host-family that I might be moving out. Suddenly the family was no longer just a group of people from whom I rented a room and instead became some of my closest friends in the community. We joke around, we’ve learned a routine, and despite the occasional confusing conversations when something is lost in translation, we “get” each other.

I seriously examined all the reasons for leaving the house where I am now, and suddenly came to the conclusion, that I’m happy where I am, and there is no reason to change that. Though frequently being watched and working around cooking, bathroom, or laundry schedules, becomes frustrating at times, it’s all overshadowed by the evening conversations, the stories, the jokes, or the two-hour-long games of Uno with the kids.

My roommates range in age from 6 to about 69 (the 60-something couple who owns the house, their 20-30-something daughters and son, and their 6-12-year-old grandsons and granddaughters). Including me, we’re a casa of a 10. We’d make a great sitcom.

I came to Guatemala, knowing that I would make connections and develop relationships, but never thought that I could have real friendships. Though it’s a bit more effort to communicate, the words are beginning to flow better, and suddenly I’m feeling more invested in my time here.

Don Romeo and Doña Enriqueta - the house owners.

Top 10 Summertime Highlights

2009-09-06T22:49:00.000-07:00

Though I’m gearing up for “summer” to begin (the school year ends in October), the traditional summer months fueled me with great stories and good memories. The top 10 is a slightly more condensed list, opposed to my other stories summarizing the summer.

Top 10 lessons learned from living in Guatemala, summer 2009:

10. Realizing that the greater proportions of my friends are between four and five-years-old, or sixty-four and sixty-five-years-old. Both age groups make time to chat and joke-around, which in turn improves my Spanish.

9. Learning to speak Mam from a woman in town. And though Mam is challenging it’s a strange relief to switch to Spanish. The happiest baby in the Northern Hemisphere lives in the same house.

8. Engaging in frequent conversations while walking down the four-street-town and allowing an extra fifteen minutes or more to get from place-to-place. The next thing is never as important as the present.

7. Making friends with nuclear-families as a means to be invited to family events. In May, my site-mate and I visited the Xetulu theme park with one of the premier fun-families in town. A day of riding Guatemalan roller coasters taught me that, “AAAaaaAAaaaHHHhhhhhHHHHhh,” has the same translation from English to Spanish.

6. Watching the AFI (American Film Institute) 100 list with my site-mate. Sixteen movies down and 84 to go, tells me that I’ve been missing out on an entire medium of expression, pre-2009.

5. Learning through teaching. Between my normal classes in the schools and my occasional English classes in site, I've been learning some important teaching tactics to engage students, as well as learning more Spanish to make me a competent communicator (even among my preschool friends).

4. Traveling to the U.S. for college friends’ wedding in Michigan for a fleeting five day journey. Though I live far away, maintaining friendships at home is equally as important as meeting new friends here.

3. Taking excessive day-trips for the sake of sanity. While most of what I learned this past summer occurred in my site, I’ve realized that taking a four hour trip to the ocean, sitting on the beach for ten minutes, swimming for ten minutes, and lounging with friends under a shaded hut for lunch, all before making the journey back on the same day, is sometimes just what I need to refresh my Spanish and cultural sensitivity.

2. Celebrating the Fourth of July outside U.S. borders. An American style BBQ, Guatemalan beer, and a collection of favorite music, can bring PCVs together for a common cause—to celebrate the country and culture we’re positively promoting in Guatemala.

1. Visiting family. My sister and brother-in-law, RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) who also served in Guatemala and ended their service in 2008, spent a week at my schools and visiting their old site as well, this past May. Another generation made it through 27 months here, millions of other PCVs have completed their service since 1961, there’s no reason I can’t too.

Staying strong. Overcoming obstacles. Accepting the challenge.

Gems from the Summer

2009-08-27T15:46:00.000-07:00

Though it's rainy season in Guatemala, and Guatemalans call this time of year "winter," I'll always consider June through August "summer." Summer passed quickly this year; I was still working (the school year runs January through October) and busy days turn into short weeks. Time flies. The following stories come from some of my favorite moments this past summer.

¡Ya queremos pastel!

The Guatemalan birthday party has come to be a common routine for me. Somebody invites me, or my site mate and me together. We go bearing soda or something to share. We become the center of attention at the party, where people sit in chairs, lined around the perimeter of the room. And I can always count on someone asking me to sing one of my favorite Spanish songs or say one of my favorite local Guatemalan phrases. And even if they don’t think I understand everything they say, they ask me to say “puchica” (wow) or the like, and I can fit in as if I’m a local.

Perhaps my favorite tradition, of course aside from serenading the group with one of my favorite Vicente Fernandez songs, El Chofer (“Voy a arrancar, soy el chofer…”), is the presentation of the birthday cake. The Guatemalan birthday cake always tastes a little different than it looks. The design is elaborate, and the inside is more like bread, soaked in fruit juice. One of the hosts brings the cake to the birthday boy, girl, man, or woman, and group sings, in English, “Happy birthday to you…,” followed by, “Ya queremos pastel…” And after singing, the guests scream for the birthday boy, girl, man, or woman, to take a big bite. And after he or she takes that bite, I usually step in to take a picture of the cake covered face. And then we eat, and people ask me to sing or say more select local words.

In May, we celebrated my birthday at my site mate’s house. My sister and brother-in-law returned Peace Corps Guatemala volunteers were visiting, and volunteers from near-by sites also came to celebrate. We made homemade pizza, I wore a birthday hat, and we ate cake (though I did not smash my face into the center of it). But when our Guatemalan friends came over, we put on the Spanish music, and per usual, I sang my favorite lines from Vicente’s greatest hits. The day would not have been complete otherwise.

Language Acquisition through TV and Film

Sometimes I find myself hanging around my house on a Friday or Saturday night, when I don’t feel like traveling part-way across the country for entertainment. And many times I find myself lingering after I cook dinner, at which time I find out the latest news, the best argument on Guatemalan talk shows, or a familiar dubbed movie. It was not until the family flipped the channel to Chucky the other night, that I had learned my host-mom is such a fan of horror movies. Daily, we make jokes, she listens to music while washing clothes, and she bakes bread in the brick oven (all very tranquil activities), but in the evenings when we see the horror line-up, she laughs at the little “muñeco” that happens to come to life. Simultaneously strange and amazing!

Sometimes I feel like every moment of my life here is like I’m in class, whether absorbing new vocabulary and engaging in conversation, or learning new cultural gems, such as the happiness a horror movie brings.

The Clash of Three Languages

Len nan.
(Buenos días señora.)
[Good morning ma’am.]

Ti nik’x teya?
(¿Cómo está usted?)
[How are you?]

B’a’n intine chjonte, yatzan teya?
(Bien gracias. ¿Y usted?)
[Well thanks. And you?]

B’a’n.
(Bien.)
[Well.]

Kwentanx tib’a, qin we.
(Cuidese, hasta luego.)
[Take care of yourself, see you later.]

Ku cheb’xa.
(Que le vaya bien.)
[Go well.]

At the end of July, I began weekly Mam (pronounced “mom”) class (the Mayan language that 94% of the people in my municipality speak). And though learning at least some words and phrases in Mam will be sufficient, while I hone my Spanish skills, the language (spoken predominantly in Huehuetenango and San Marcos), varies drastically in dialect from municipality to municipality.

The three schools where I teach are located in the municipality of Santa Barbara, anywhere from 20 minutes to an-hour-and-a-half from my town center in San Se. My schools are bilingual, meaning the kindergarteners are just learning Spanish and they are learning the majority of their curriculum in Mam, and as the years go on, students continue to learn more Spanish until the entirety of their curriculum is taught in Spanish. But even if I want to teach and/or greet my classes in Mam, I need to learn the Santa Barbara dialect.

Mam does not have similar sounds as English or Spanish. Mam is spoken manly from the throat. Of the 36 characters in the Mam alphabet, 13 of the characters include an apostrophe, which makes a sound that I am not trained or perhaps even able to make. I often feel like I’m beat-boxing, while I’m really just saying, “How are you? See you later.”

And more than anything, I think that translating from Spanish to Mam, while often thinking in English and translating my thoughts to Spanish, makes it that much harder to learn. This may be a sign that I need to stop thinking in English all together—in which case, I lose command of all languages and cannot communicate with anyone.

While the synapses work in rapid fire, completing my English thoughts and my Spanish words, I’ve found myself speaking Spanish and every once-in-a-while, absent mindedly slipping an English word into the dialog, confusing listeners more than they might already be confused by my Spanish, and/or my Spanish with a Midwestern accent. Even if I speak grammatically correct, my words are meaningless, if I slip a long Minnesota “a” (which makes a harsh “ay” sound) into any Spanish word.

But perhaps the most candid moment of the shift from English to Spanish, happened in the grocery store the other day. I was looking for milk (“leche”—a simple Spanish word). But somewhere else in the store, I saw the word “saludable,” shifted to English and thought “healthy,” switching to thoughts about my program “escuelas saludables,” and then pulling up a mental vocab. list concerning words for my health classes. Still, I couldn’t find where milk might be shelved, but all the time, I was looking for “leche materna”. Mother’s milk?! To which I had to think, “Wait…is that really what I’m looking for?” Generally confused by my Spanish and English thoughts, I was relieved that I didn’t ask someone in the store, “¿Disculpe, adónde puedo buscar leche maternal de la pechuga?” Yikes.

The preceding paragraphs were a jumble—such is my mind.

Life After Capacitación: To San Sebastián...

2009-06-16T13:44:00.000-07:00

Our only emotions after swear-in and before moving to our respective sites. In a word: terror.

An aerial view of San Sensebatián (San Se), as seen running up the mountain through a nearby aldea community.

My host-home for the first three months in site - a view of the big garden behind the pila, where I brush my teeth, wash my clothes and do my dishes. Second to the family, the garden was a selling point when I was choosing a place to live once I arrived in site at the end of March.

Juramentación - Swear-in Day, March 27, 2009: The First Day of the Next Two Years

2009-06-16T13:42:00.000-07:00

Our Training Director speaking at the Ambassador's residence in Guatemala City, moments before we took the oath and committed to our service in Peace Corps Guatemala.

My Parramos host-mom Doña Berta and me on the Ambassador's grounds.

The families and other PCTs with whom I lived in Parramos for my first three months of training.

The "Healthy Schools" half of my training group and Peace Corps Guatemala Country Director.

Peace Corps Training: My First Three Months in Country

2009-06-16T13:40:00.000-07:00

Parramos host-mom Doña Berta - always ready with a joke on hand.

The Catholic Church in Parramos where my host-family attended.

College friend Ben and me, catching up in Antigua, while living in the same country and working in different programs. Small world. Necessary travel buddy.

The outside view of my host-home in Parramos.

The Life of Profe Marcos

2009-06-03T14:41:00.000-07:00

In the U.S., the name "professor" is an esteemed title to describe a scholar who teaches at the collegiate-level and has completed years of education and various benchmarks on the faculty-ladder. Here, if you’re a teacher, you automatically get the title of "profesor" or "profesora". And though undergoing four years of college and obtaining an undergraduate degree in the U.S. is important to enter into any sort of professional career, when considering the number of people in the U.S. who have post-graduate degrees, an undergraduate degree doesn’t usually deem the initials "B.A." after someone's name. Here, I may be referred to as "licenciado". And despite having a college degree, as a minimum requirement for a Peace Corps Volunteer, I more-than-likely communicate at the level of a first grader.

I’ve completed two months, working in three rural schools. My job as "school health facilitator" seems like it is beginning to evolve as I continue to work and live here. These past two months I’ve been giving health lessons to 26 classes per week among my three schools. More and more, I’m learning: what will work and conversely what will not work, what classes will participate and conversely look at me like I’m speaking a foreign language (sometimes Spanish is foreign, as all the schools are bilingual Mam speaking as well), and which activities are too childish for sixth graders and conversely beyond the capabilities of the completely Mam speaking kindergartners.

Each day lasts from 7:30AM – 12:30PM—piece of cake compared to U.S. school schedules. Nevertheless, my farthest school is an hour-and-a-half away from my site. The alarm goes off at 5:00AM, I revert to my college behaviors and hit the snooze button multiple times and I’m on the road, starting at 5:45AM or 6:00AM. From my site I take a "camioneta" (or converted U.S. school bus) and hop on a "microbus" or "camion" (a flatbed truck that tightly packs many people). The dirt road is bumpy and standing often feels better than absorbing the shock with my shoulders, as I smash into the bars onto which I hold, with every teeter across the rough terrain. We hit some construction on the way and wait for 30 minutes until the road opens back up. The short five hours of school becomes a nine hour day, from wake-up time to the time I return home.

One school, however, is an easy bus ride away, with about five minutes of careful walking, as an attempt not to tumble down rocky hillsides. It’s often a welcome relief to sleep-in a bit and to know that just transporting myself won’t be the hardest part of the day.

Commonly sung songs during my lessons include "Canción de los Piojos" set to the tune of "La Cucaracha," singing about such an eloquent topic as lice, as well as the song, "Con un cepillo, me cepillo yo…," which becomes a sort of jig, using your whole body, demonstrating just how many "toothbrushes" you might use to brush your teeth (two arms, two legs, butt, head, and your whole body). I’m starting to lack taste in real music.

Everyday classes of students range from half-asleep to receptive and participatory, and my confidence fluctuates from that of despair to feeling successful. Such is Peace Corps—you never know what will happen next!

And so it was...Easter

2009-05-08T16:00:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I had a chance to update; however, I had full intentions of doing so Easter weekend. The following is a little gem I decided had to be typed up soon after the event (now almost a month ago). A must read - enjoy. This is my life.

This past Saturday, ready to get back to San Se after a Semana Santa diversion in Xela and another Volunteer’s house, I left early in the morning to catch a bus. Transportation was limited during Holy Week and the country virtually shut down, so leaving early was the only hope of making it back at all.

I set out on the street that I thought led me to the highway, but it made an unnoticeable turn, so before I knew it I was going up a mountain and into a nearby aldea. I stopped to ask for directions and despite my wrong turn, I could still access the highway and could even hear cars driving past somewhere in my general vicinity if I continued walking up.

I checked-in one last time with a woman who was standing on the dirt road, just to make sure my early morning quad workout wasn’t completely worthless. The woman ensured me that I was headed in the right direction, but it became clear that she was standing on the road in search of a passer-by. She asked if I would be able to help her lift something. Seemingly harmless, I said I could help out. I assumed she had to move a table, as many street vendors (before I thought about the fact that this was not the place for a typical street-vendor-setup).

I entered the house compound area and entered the kitchen, including a table, a man standing next to the table and a woman brewing a large pot in the corner, over an open-fire-stove. More family members entered the room and looked surprised of the stranger their mother had picked up along the dirt road. I still thought we were lifting the table until I stepped around the table, where I encountered pig—feet and snout, both tied with a long rope.

I started laughing. I’m not sure if the family thought it was, even in the slightest, a strange proposition to ask a stranger to help lift a pig onto the butcher block in its last moments of life, but all I could do was laugh and say, “Lo siento. Este es muy comico.”

Backup arrived on the scene and two more people entered the room. I’d never lifted a live pig onto a butcher block before. I wanted a tutorial. Do I get gloves? Do I have to bear hug the mid-section, or can I just pull on the rope? Why can’t this just be done from the floor? But there was no time to ask logistics or even logic. I was about to offer all my strength and lift this animal onto the table. This was rather personal…we had just met.

On "tres," we lifted. Uno-dos-tres…and here I am, holding the mid-section of a bound-pig, suspended by a rope. Squirming in the hands of the other helpers and flailing from my rope, I hoped that we didn’t drop it. I wouldn’t have been nice to leave, but I really wasn’t experienced in this area of raising livestock. And on the table it laid.

The woman who recruited me offered me a couple Quetzales. I had to refuse the tip, but instead, asked if I could take a picture.

And there I had evidence to back up my adventure. One wrong turn and I was nearly a butcher. One wrong turn and I made a story, all before 8AM.

Integrating

2009-04-08T15:08:00.000-07:00

I’m now experiencing my second week in site. This week is Semana Santa, so life in Guatemala has taken a hiatus while observing Holy Week. Despite the fact that the majority of San Sebastián residents are taking a break for the week, which presents some challenge in carrying out everyday-tasks, this week is giving me a good chance to meet people and integrate into the town I will know well during the next two years.

I’ve done my share of blending-in with crowds (blending-in meaning that I’m making attempts to look like a Guatemalan who speaks perfect Spanish and/or Mam, but in actuality, stand out as if I’m dressed for Halloween). I consider my life as a set of mini-experiments, intersecting the lives of others at various instances throughout my days, inevitably walking away, while they think to themselves, “He’s crazy,” and I think to myself, “Am I even a person?”

Experiment #1: Market Day Strut

My first chance to become widely known as the new Gringo in town was to take on the streets during market day. With good intention that I would meet some vendors and pick up my needed produce, I first stopped at a tarp where a woman was selling avocados.

Marcos (me):¡Buenos días! Quisiera cuatro aguacates, por favor.
-Rational thought: I only need four avocados.

Vendor: Lo siento, no tengo cambio para diez Quetzales.
-Rational thought #2: No change? I could leave...

Marcos: “Esta bien. Entonces quisiera cinco Quetzales de aguacates.”
-Irrational Solution: Throw in some more avocados to make up the difference.

My first day at the market ended with me carrying home 10 avocados, a pound of tomatoes, and a pound of onions. I didn’t have the foresight to know what I would actually make with this cornucopia, but when given the opportunity to act like a local with smooth Spanish and a cookbook in the back of your head, seize the day.

Experiment #2: Keep the Conversation Flowing

Even having used four years of high school, three semesters of college and three months of Peace Corps training, as attempts to become proficient in Spanish, I don’t notice a marked improvement until I have long conversations and go hours or days without speaking any English. Usually, responding with, “Sí,” is relatively harmless, whether understanding the actual question or not. Still, observing such factors as the setting, the communicator, and his or her body language are usually good indicators of the person’s intentions and whether or not, “Sí,” will actually prove harmless.

I may have found a way around all of the obscure questions that I don’t exactly understand. And while it’s important to perhaps review the questions and store unknown words in my memory to study at a later time, keeping the conversation going and perhaps entertaining the other person is the best tactic.

Marcos, quire _____?
-Rationalization: I might want to go, it could be fun…or did he ask me to do his laundry? Give you all my money? You’re offering me dinner? What is going on?!

So for those ambiguous questions I throw in words such as: “Por supesto!” (Of course!), “Pan comido!” (Piece of cake!), “Puchica!” (Wow!), or “Saber?” (Who knows?).

Knowing laughs always follow, the interrogator might know that I in fact have no idea what he or she asked, but at least I’ve picked up some locale jargon to give a pithy response. And adding a little signature to each word makes it more memorable: “Pan comido!” and snap, or “Saber?” spoken in a guttural, confused voice.

Experiment #3: Asking and Remembering Names

Even in English, whenever I meet someone new, 75 percent of the time I will not remember his or her name. I usually get caught up in presenting myself. Do I start out with a joke? Is it better to just listen? Nevertheless, lasting impressions are not nearly as lasting if you can’t remember someone’s name the next time you meet.

Initial greeting—calm, cool and collected:
Hola! Me llamo Marcos. Voy a vivir aquí en San Sebastián por dos anos. Como se llama?

Next day:
Buenas…
END SCENE.
-And we meet again…Doña María…or Doña Esperanza…um…Don Mario?!

Goal: record people’s names immediately after meeting them.

I’m only skimming the surface of this tale.

Anticipation...again

2009-03-29T09:41:00.000-07:00

I have completely renounced all my principles as a historian and have failed to give an accurate outline of my daily routines for the last month or so. Someday I will give a better overview.

Today is moving day. We were sworn-in as Volunteers this past Friday, during a ceremony at the Ambassador's house. We took the same oath as the Vice President and committed the next 24 months to faithfully executing our duties as the newest Peace Corps Volunteers.

It feels a little like I just graduated from Peace Corps training, a little like I'm leaving home again, and a little like I'm not prepared, but in actuality, have no choice. I've merely skimmed the surface of this adventure. Over the next few weeks I'll make attempts to figure out how to "do life" in Huehuetenango. I'll set up a room with a new host-family (with whom I'll live for the next three months), while I try to figure out all the steps in Spanish. It sounds like an easy task, but scares me a bit.

This past week we talked as a training group and expressed our commitment to service. When I can't figure out how to get from point A to point B, or I can't figure out how to cook a meal when I can only find Tortrix and water in the town, I'll have no choice but to go with the adventure and chalk-up the stories I will have when I'm 90-years-old.

Commitment to Peace Corps Service
24 March 2009

I like to think of my commitment to serve in Peace Corps as a linear progression of both paperwork and emotion. Whether my commitment began with the first few hours spent working on my application, during my extensive interview, once I was nominated, after I was invited, or finally upon leaving the U.S. and becoming a trainee, in a few days my service will actually begin. I’ll swear-in as a Volunteer, I’ll move to Huehuetenango and I’ll start all over, making more new friends and attempting to integrate as the newest resident of San Sebastián.

As I undertake this somewhat vague task of teaching others and creating a sustainable system, I will learn equally, as I work with what Peace Corps promotes as “a spirit of cooperation, and mutual learning and respect.” And though it’s likely that two years will bring enchantment, countered by disenchantment, joy, countered by frustration, and accomplishment, countered by defeat, I will do my best to remember why I first committed to become a Peace Corps Volunteer: to know more thoroughly another culture, as I do my best to act as an ambassador for my own culture.

I hope the next two years will be filled with challenges to make me stronger and goals to keep me moving forward.

-Mark Forsberg

The bus rides are beginning. The move is starting. The adventure is underway.

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

2009-02-11T17:14:00.000-08:00

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 quinceañera , 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.

Mere hours left

2009-01-05T12:33:00.000-08:00

I depart for Washington D.C. at 7:20 AM tomorrow. I'm filling my time with every last minute piece of business and packing. I'm a flood of emotions from extremely nervous to incredibly excited. It feels like I'm just moments away from a race - ensuring that I'm hydrated and well stretched, that I've changed my spikes and that I've performed all the necessary traditions for success.

I will write often. I will record liberally. And I will document thoroughly. I'm ready for the social biography to begin - read, respond and enjoy.

I will miss you all!