Anticipation...again

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

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

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!