Urban vs Rural

Waking up to an abnormally torrential rain this morning, my site mate and I had to trek all the way to the bus station, and as I am still waiting on my pair of rain boots (on their way from California as we speak, I hope) the only defense I had against the characteristically Guatemalan weather was a chinsy TIGO (one of three Guatemalan phone carriers, possibly the most obnoxious) umbrella, that I received for free with the purchase of my chinsy TIGO telephone, together with a very thin rain jacket that I brought with me in case of stuck-up-the-river-without-a-paddle type of situations. I’ve now come to use that jacket almost every day while also fully exploiting that free umbrella - definitely beyond the use that it was meant to withstand. Come to think of it, I’ve also been using a Claro (the second largest phone carrier) lunch bag to bring homemade lunches to the training center and Aura’s got a few Movistar (the third) shirts that she wears pretty often. I suppose the promotional products abound in these parts as incentive to the country folk to purchase strange products from the city (like cell-phones and stoves) and the savvy Guatemalans take full advantage of them.

I don’t mean to complain at all; it’s just that this experience seemed almost metaphoric after a day trip to the capital. I found myself subconsciously comparing the city life of Guate to the suburban life of San Juan Alotenango (only about an hour and fifteen minutes away by car) and even the rural life of a few other towns I’ve passed through – none of which, I must note, even compare to the true rural Guatemala in terms of poverty and indigenous populations.

In Guate today, our field trip consisted of a visit to the Ministry of Agriculture, a government agency in which we met with an inspector charged with doling out sanitary certifications. He was very helpful and answered plenty of our questions about obtaining a sanitation license, and the process of preparing operations for an inspection. After that, we had a quick lunch at a typical Guatemalan eatery (in one of the many forbidden parts of the city) and took a trip to a private export organization (that had its evident financial success prominently displayed throughout the building). Afterwards, we headed as a group to Paiz, a Guatemalan grocery chain bought by Wal-Mart in 2005, to do some research in preparation for our Field Based Training next week.

Although I had been to another Paiz supermarket a few weeks ago when we first went to the capital, this particular visit was a cold bucket of water dumped on my tiny little match of excitement [at readily available M&Ms].

Now, I’ll break it down for you in the best way I know how; straight numbers. Let’s start with my own pay; I won’t be bashful about it, maybe “pay” isn’t the best word. Stipend, we’ll say. Peace Corps gives my host family 60 Quetzals a day (The exchange rate is somewhere around Q7.5 to $1) which covers my room and meals. Additionally, I get Q26 as “walk-around” money. In Alotenango, a can of Diet Coke costs about Q4, a pound of black beans costs about Q7 and a hardy meal in a small restaurant will run you about Q20. So, I don’t have a whole lot of leeway there, it’s pretty easy to spend all my money in one place (but I have all my meals provided and haven’t eaten this well in years, just to be clear). Now, let’s look at the average Guatemalan salary: the minimum daily wage is about Q40/day (which doesn’t include the room and board that PC graciously provides for me) with which the average Guatemalan has to pay for utilities, water, food, private school for their children, and transportation. For that amount, the Paiz supermarket can offer you these things: a 12 oz jar of JIF, ½ kg of locally roasted coffee beans or a small container of freshly baked cookies from the bakery. For the same price, you could get frivolous and opt for a bagel sandwich from the deli, a Cosmopolitan Magazine or, if you’re really feeling crazy, roll-on deodorant.

The point is, I walked into Paiz, took a quick glance at the prices and immediately thought, who can afford this? It’s not that the prices are too far from those in the US, they’re probably pretty similar. But, the compensation here doesn’t even come close. An average laborer scrapes to support his family and he’s lucky if his home has a front door that locks and a hot shower. And, I know for a fact that there are still large fincas (plantations, if you will) that pay much less than Q40/day. But at Paiz, you can buy a 1 kg gourmet bag of coffee for more than the amount of money that a family of four spends on a week’s worth of food (I know because I sneakily keep track of Aura’s expenses at the market). The reality of the situation here is that there a stark division between the rural way of life and the way of the city. And, I’m just saying, it’s not like the city is even glamorous. I mean, yeah you can buy basically anything you need, but it’s pretty hectic and dirty, not to mention thoroughly commercial and extremely dangerous.

Analyze this situation as you like, but at this point I’d take my village over Guate any day of the week.

Until next time..