This first week and a half in site has been pretty calm and uneventful, although that’s not to say it’s not noisy. I’ve found that the noise principle is taken to new heights in my new site, if it were even possible. For example, some loud noises that would normally scare us, being the hyper-conscious, terrorist fearing Americans that we are, such as [questionably] personal fireworks, are set off at the beginning, middle and end of every mass at the Catholic Church I attended on Sunday. They hold three services every day.
Aside from acclimating to the noise, I’ve also found that my entire town has a very distinct smell; Corn. The shrimp sequence from Forrest Gump comes to mind: corn being harvested, sun drying corn, roasting corn, corn being milled into mash, corn being boiled, corn being grilled, mash being made into tortillas (black, white and yellow varieties each have a distinct smell), even corn cobs being burned to fuel the fires over which the majority of people cook in their kitchens.
Running through the town several times a week has not only allowed me to classify each of the distinct corn smells, it’s also allowed me to get to know the gente (people) better. Most of the time I don’t realize I’m stocking up on future conversations when I run, because I’m used to zoning out when I run in order to pass the time, and like I said before, decompress. But here, I have to stay alert: I must never be too out of breath to offer a “Buenos días” to anyone I pass. No exceptions.
Regardless if I see someone on my path or not, they usually know if I ran that day, which is to be expected in any close-knit small town. Monday, I walked into Kaqchikel class around 8:30 after an early morning run and my teacher greeted me with “Good morning! My brother saw you running this morning.”
Along the same gossip lines, my Kaqchikel class whispers to me that my host mother’s husband is her second, and my host mother whispers to me that my Kaqchikel teacher is a single mother and no one knows who the father is, with a cautionary finger to her mouth. Somehow I’ve already been drawn in to the vicious gossip circle, solely by being conspicuously white. But now I’m the first one doing the math when I see a recently wed couple with a newborn. From what I gather, shotgun weddings are quite common.
Until next time..
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
After a short few days in site
After having a wonderful swearing -in ceremony at the Ambassador’s house and a fun filled night of celebration, I write to you now from my new site! I had a somber goodbye with my host family from Alotenango, and took a bus from there to Chimaltenango where I caught the direct bus to my site. In all, the journey was about 2 ½ hours. I arrived to meet the volunteer whom I will be replacing and almost immediately moved in with my new host family. While the living conditions are not that much different from my previous host family, the family speaks about 75% Kaqchikel (which I have yet to learn how to pronounce correctly). The family has six children ranging in age from 12 to 31, and a limitless stream of cousins, aunts and uncles coming through the house at all hours of the day. In the short few days I’ve been here, I’ve already been reeled in to playing many a game of soccer, Scrabble (yes, that’s right, scrabble) and a Guatemalan version of Sorry. But despite the lack of quiet time, the family is quite accommodating and extremely gracious. I’ve already begun to get comfortable.
After arriving in my permanent site, one thing I’ve noticed that does not differ from town to town is a Guatemalan’s apparent entitlement to make noise, regardless of time, place or appropriateness. After observing for about three months, it is my solemn belief that from an early age, it is ingrained in a Guatemalans that it is his inherent right to blast music, maintain roosters in small quarters or emit whatever possible racket he may feel the impulse to make or foster. That said, I have not gotten too much peace in site as of yet, but I’ve been able to run which allows me to decompress a little.
Tomorrow I will begin classes of Kaqchikel, so I can understand what the women are saying around the stove (which is, by the way, where we eat dinner after we make all the tortillas). I have yet to master the art of tortear (Spanish, for ‘to make tortillas’ ), but I’m in no hurry to do so, because I’m still using this as an excuse when someone suggests I go on a date with their son/brother/cousin, etc. My normal line is “Oh, but Señora, you know I’m no good at making tortillas, no Guatemalan would ever take me!” with which they never argue.
Until next time..
After arriving in my permanent site, one thing I’ve noticed that does not differ from town to town is a Guatemalan’s apparent entitlement to make noise, regardless of time, place or appropriateness. After observing for about three months, it is my solemn belief that from an early age, it is ingrained in a Guatemalans that it is his inherent right to blast music, maintain roosters in small quarters or emit whatever possible racket he may feel the impulse to make or foster. That said, I have not gotten too much peace in site as of yet, but I’ve been able to run which allows me to decompress a little.
Tomorrow I will begin classes of Kaqchikel, so I can understand what the women are saying around the stove (which is, by the way, where we eat dinner after we make all the tortillas). I have yet to master the art of tortear (Spanish, for ‘to make tortillas’ ), but I’m in no hurry to do so, because I’m still using this as an excuse when someone suggests I go on a date with their son/brother/cousin, etc. My normal line is “Oh, but Señora, you know I’m no good at making tortillas, no Guatemalan would ever take me!” with which they never argue.
Until next time..
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Swearing In
On Friday morning, I walked briskly to the bus with Colin, Miguel and Paula (his host parents) to make it to Antigua on time, because we had been told by Peace Corps that it was of vital importance to arrive on time. Once in Antigua, we met with Jaime, who had just gotten off work at 7:30 AM, and all got onto a bus that was waiting for us to take us to the Ambassador’s house in Guatemala City. Arriving in Guate, was an adventure as always, keeping in mind stories like one of the PC nurses having her watch stolen off her wrist when she had her arm out the window during rush hour, especially in such a large group.
We pulled up to an relatively unmarked white wall in the middle of the capital and it wasn’t until I got off the bus and inspected my surroundings that I noticed the small plaque bearing the seal of the US government. We were greeted by the training director and the Guatemala country director among other staff and made to enter the compound in single file, through a narrow door that wouldn’t permit more than one at a time anyway. Upon entering the beautiful front lawn, we were greeted in the entrance by the rest of the PCGuatemala staff and the ambassador and his wife themselves. They alone led us through their home to the back lawn (also gorgeous) where chairs and tents for the ceremony had been set up.
After taking countless pictures and exploring the massive back yard (with swimming pool, tennis court and an expansive lawn) we began the ceremony. In front of the Ambassador and his wife, our host families and the PC Guatemala staff, we each took the oath required of all government employees (which my mom remembered she’d had to take upon entrance into West Point) and were called up one by one to receive diplomas verifying completion of training. All in all it was a very emotional culmination of these past three months of training and, most importantly they had real cookies and brownies as a snack afterward.
I have to say that the coolest part of the ceremony was unplanned. The wind was particularly fierce in the capital that day, even inside the ambassador’s immaculate complex. About ten minutes into the ceremony, after having been thanked for his warm welcome, Ambassador McFarlan whispered into the country director’s ear. He stood up, and said in Spanish, “Speaking of a warm welcome, does anyone need a jacket or sweater? Some of you must be freezing.” There was a little hesitation, and several people looked to their neighbor as if to ask each other if his offer was sincere, and then about three hands went into the air. After about three minutes, he returned with several jackets and sweaters (my favorite, a particularly feminine indigenous from his service in Paraguay, he gave to our elected trainee speaker, who kept it on for the remainder of the morning) handing them out to anyone who looked cold. That little touch of hospitality took the formality of the ceremony down a notch, but it was awesome to see someone with such a prestigious position who was so considerate and down to earth.
Until next time..
We pulled up to an relatively unmarked white wall in the middle of the capital and it wasn’t until I got off the bus and inspected my surroundings that I noticed the small plaque bearing the seal of the US government. We were greeted by the training director and the Guatemala country director among other staff and made to enter the compound in single file, through a narrow door that wouldn’t permit more than one at a time anyway. Upon entering the beautiful front lawn, we were greeted in the entrance by the rest of the PCGuatemala staff and the ambassador and his wife themselves. They alone led us through their home to the back lawn (also gorgeous) where chairs and tents for the ceremony had been set up.
After taking countless pictures and exploring the massive back yard (with swimming pool, tennis court and an expansive lawn) we began the ceremony. In front of the Ambassador and his wife, our host families and the PC Guatemala staff, we each took the oath required of all government employees (which my mom remembered she’d had to take upon entrance into West Point) and were called up one by one to receive diplomas verifying completion of training. All in all it was a very emotional culmination of these past three months of training and, most importantly they had real cookies and brownies as a snack afterward.
I have to say that the coolest part of the ceremony was unplanned. The wind was particularly fierce in the capital that day, even inside the ambassador’s immaculate complex. About ten minutes into the ceremony, after having been thanked for his warm welcome, Ambassador McFarlan whispered into the country director’s ear. He stood up, and said in Spanish, “Speaking of a warm welcome, does anyone need a jacket or sweater? Some of you must be freezing.” There was a little hesitation, and several people looked to their neighbor as if to ask each other if his offer was sincere, and then about three hands went into the air. After about three minutes, he returned with several jackets and sweaters (my favorite, a particularly feminine indigenous from his service in Paraguay, he gave to our elected trainee speaker, who kept it on for the remainder of the morning) handing them out to anyone who looked cold. That little touch of hospitality took the formality of the ceremony down a notch, but it was awesome to see someone with such a prestigious position who was so considerate and down to earth.
Until next time..
Monday, October 27, 2008
Last week of training!
With training coming to a close in less than a week, I’ve become rather restless. (To be exact, training will culminate in a brief swearing-in ceremony this coming Friday at the Ambassador’s house in Guatemala City). The past few weeks have flown by, leaving little time to socialize with my host family and community in between site visits and additional training sessions. In about a week I’ll have to leave the town and the family that have been my home for the last two and a half months.
Amidst the anxiety of this transition, we’ve also had several unique opportunities, such as lunch with the Ambassador to Guatemala at the training center as well as a brief introduction to Kaqchikel, the prevalent Mayan dialect in my new site.
Six out of my group of thirty are headed to heavily Kaqchikel sites, so I fortunately did not have to brave it alone. Although, the absence of some of my peers might have encouraged better pronunciation, keeping in mind the guttural nature of most of the words. True story: one of my friends accidentally burped during class that day and her teacher thought she was actually speaking Mam, another Mayan dialect.
We were lucky enough to have a well known bi-lingual education advocate who also happens to be a Mayan priestess for our short lesson. As you might have guessed, the first try was a little rough. But, see if you can pronounce a word spelled with apparently arbitrary vowels and apostrophe marks formed from an alphabet of thirty letters. Here’s a quick example; our first phrase to learn was “xkaq’ij’ka.” (good afternoon, in case you were wondering). So, as you can see, there’s a reason this language had never been written down. But, as our professor assures us, “It’s easy! Especially compared to that crazy English of yours.”
I'll be an offical volunteer the next time you hear from me!
Until then..
Amidst the anxiety of this transition, we’ve also had several unique opportunities, such as lunch with the Ambassador to Guatemala at the training center as well as a brief introduction to Kaqchikel, the prevalent Mayan dialect in my new site.
Six out of my group of thirty are headed to heavily Kaqchikel sites, so I fortunately did not have to brave it alone. Although, the absence of some of my peers might have encouraged better pronunciation, keeping in mind the guttural nature of most of the words. True story: one of my friends accidentally burped during class that day and her teacher thought she was actually speaking Mam, another Mayan dialect.
We were lucky enough to have a well known bi-lingual education advocate who also happens to be a Mayan priestess for our short lesson. As you might have guessed, the first try was a little rough. But, see if you can pronounce a word spelled with apparently arbitrary vowels and apostrophe marks formed from an alphabet of thirty letters. Here’s a quick example; our first phrase to learn was “xkaq’ij’ka.” (good afternoon, in case you were wondering). So, as you can see, there’s a reason this language had never been written down. But, as our professor assures us, “It’s easy! Especially compared to that crazy English of yours.”
I'll be an offical volunteer the next time you hear from me!
Until then..
Monday, October 20, 2008
Velorio and Cepelio
I’ve just gotten back from a very eventful week at my permanent site, where I will install myself the morning of Novemebr 5th, following the long awaited election. Before leaving for site I had two days with my future counterpart, Marvin at the training center along with all the other volunteers and their counterparts. Marvin is twenty four and runs the SID office in my site, while simultaneously finishing his thesis to graduate from a university in the capital. He’s going to be very interesting to work with, no doubt. He was nice enough to drive down from Chimaltenango so I could move my things to site without having to brave the chicken bus with all my worldly belongings.
Once we arrived I was met by the volunteer who I’ll be replacing, who graciously showed me around town, introducing me to several of her friends in the area, all of which first asked her if I could speak Spanish and, when I answered yes, asked me if I spoke K’akchiquel. So, although Spanish is the official language, it looks as though I’m going to have to start taking K’akchiquel lessons to relate on a more personal level with the residents of my town.
After arriving on Tuesday, I attended a day long meeting at the office (where we normally only spend one day a week, with the other four in the field) and was introduced to all the Promoters who work for SID in their various communities surrounding the municipal center. My office is all men, which I think will be a blessing in disguise. My predecessor is also a woman, and always enjoyed her job and her work environment.
After meeting with some friends in Tecpan, the closest city, I returned home to a very sad occasion. While I was away, the abuelita in my house, Aura's grandmother, passed away. She passed away on Friday night around 11PM and by Saturday morning when I walked up, the entire street in front of my house was canvassed with plastic chairs and tables, ready to receive visitors. The entire house had been taken over by the velorio, or the nine day mourning ceremony. For these next nine days, various events will take place in my house to honor her. So, from yesterday morning to next Sunday, people will continue to stop by at all hours, day and night, to pay their respects. Meanwhile, according to velorio tradition, my family offers them food and snacks every few hours for the entire nine days, not to mention a never ending supply of coffee to keep them awake. So, for these next nine days hopefully I can offer some kind of help.
Today we’ll be walking the entire distance from the house to the church (almost a mile) in a group of over 300, preceded by a banner and flowers and followed by a 5 person band playing hymns. After the church service we will proceed uphill to the cemetery to complete the cepelio, the day long procession surrounding the funeral. It will be a very solemn time for sure, but it really is a wonderful send-off.
Until next time..
Once we arrived I was met by the volunteer who I’ll be replacing, who graciously showed me around town, introducing me to several of her friends in the area, all of which first asked her if I could speak Spanish and, when I answered yes, asked me if I spoke K’akchiquel. So, although Spanish is the official language, it looks as though I’m going to have to start taking K’akchiquel lessons to relate on a more personal level with the residents of my town.
After arriving on Tuesday, I attended a day long meeting at the office (where we normally only spend one day a week, with the other four in the field) and was introduced to all the Promoters who work for SID in their various communities surrounding the municipal center. My office is all men, which I think will be a blessing in disguise. My predecessor is also a woman, and always enjoyed her job and her work environment.
After meeting with some friends in Tecpan, the closest city, I returned home to a very sad occasion. While I was away, the abuelita in my house, Aura's grandmother, passed away. She passed away on Friday night around 11PM and by Saturday morning when I walked up, the entire street in front of my house was canvassed with plastic chairs and tables, ready to receive visitors. The entire house had been taken over by the velorio, or the nine day mourning ceremony. For these next nine days, various events will take place in my house to honor her. So, from yesterday morning to next Sunday, people will continue to stop by at all hours, day and night, to pay their respects. Meanwhile, according to velorio tradition, my family offers them food and snacks every few hours for the entire nine days, not to mention a never ending supply of coffee to keep them awake. So, for these next nine days hopefully I can offer some kind of help.
Today we’ll be walking the entire distance from the house to the church (almost a mile) in a group of over 300, preceded by a banner and flowers and followed by a 5 person band playing hymns. After the church service we will proceed uphill to the cemetery to complete the cepelio, the day long procession surrounding the funeral. It will be a very solemn time for sure, but it really is a wonderful send-off.
Until next time..
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Site Assignment
At last, I’ve been given my permanent site! And, although it wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for, it’s pretty close. I’m going to be stationed in one of the four sites in Chimaltenango(the closest department to my current location), as I mentioned before, each of which are 30 minutes – 1 ½ hours away from each other. My site is a town of 22,000 people that lies 20 minutes north of the commercial center of Tecpán, Chimaltenango.
As for my assignment, I’ll be working in the office of an NGO called Strategies for International Development, dealing specifically with the advancement of the local coffee market.
So, to get you up to speed, here’s my thirty second summary on the coffee market down here: Coffee farmers are very proud to produce such a fine, world renowned product (Guatemalan coffee is ranked third in quality worldwide). The trade is often kept in the family and passed down with the land for generations. The farmers harvest their coffee crops, that is, what’s left of what thieves have stolen, and generally sell to a middle man, either a coyote(basically any guy with a phone and pickup truck) or a beneficiary(an organization of glorified coyotes with a fancy name). These middlemen severely undercut the market price of coffee when they purchase from the small scale farmers and then go on to sell it to a large exporter in huge quantities. Although the coyotes and beneficiaries are paying very little, the system is rather stable and farmers generally have friendly relationships with them. Most farmers lack information sources and current data and thus, very easily trust the word of their middleman. So, you can see the issue. There is an extreme discrepancy in the value of what farmers are producing and the compensation they're receiving, mostly being scammed by their own countrymen. Not to mention the fact that coffee is in such high demand that none of the good stuff stays here - a typical coffee farming family won't even consume their own product.
Once I begin work, I will be assisting them in forming a cooperative, a very crucial step for coffee farmers down here. One of the major obstacles will be fighting the image of corruption in groups and getting the farmers in the organizations to begin to trust each other. Forming a coop is the only way to win legitimacy and pull in the market down here, and I'm guessing that will be my main task for at least the first year.
Additionally, I'll have the opportunity to work with various women's groups and a group of pomegranate farmers. So, as it turns out, this really is a job, not just a paid vacation with complimentary spanish classes. More to come after my site visit next week!
Until next time..
As for my assignment, I’ll be working in the office of an NGO called Strategies for International Development, dealing specifically with the advancement of the local coffee market.
So, to get you up to speed, here’s my thirty second summary on the coffee market down here: Coffee farmers are very proud to produce such a fine, world renowned product (Guatemalan coffee is ranked third in quality worldwide). The trade is often kept in the family and passed down with the land for generations. The farmers harvest their coffee crops, that is, what’s left of what thieves have stolen, and generally sell to a middle man, either a coyote(basically any guy with a phone and pickup truck) or a beneficiary(an organization of glorified coyotes with a fancy name). These middlemen severely undercut the market price of coffee when they purchase from the small scale farmers and then go on to sell it to a large exporter in huge quantities. Although the coyotes and beneficiaries are paying very little, the system is rather stable and farmers generally have friendly relationships with them. Most farmers lack information sources and current data and thus, very easily trust the word of their middleman. So, you can see the issue. There is an extreme discrepancy in the value of what farmers are producing and the compensation they're receiving, mostly being scammed by their own countrymen. Not to mention the fact that coffee is in such high demand that none of the good stuff stays here - a typical coffee farming family won't even consume their own product.
Once I begin work, I will be assisting them in forming a cooperative, a very crucial step for coffee farmers down here. One of the major obstacles will be fighting the image of corruption in groups and getting the farmers in the organizations to begin to trust each other. Forming a coop is the only way to win legitimacy and pull in the market down here, and I'm guessing that will be my main task for at least the first year.
Additionally, I'll have the opportunity to work with various women's groups and a group of pomegranate farmers. So, as it turns out, this really is a job, not just a paid vacation with complimentary spanish classes. More to come after my site visit next week!
Until next time..
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
I'm freakin out, MAN!
I've had about six cups of coffee today and I don't anticipate being able to sleep tonight, so I’m trying to find anything and everything productive I can do. Currently I’m catching up on several weeks’ worth of news in Antigua; apparently there's a financial crisis snowballing out of control? This is news to me.
Amidst all this tension surrounding the site assignments, my fellow trainees and I have been looking for escape mechanisms left and right. As opposed to integrating ourselves completely, several of us have reached a point where the commercial and trivial things that have come to characterize the states have become comforting, to the point that they offer a temporary refuge from the immersion with which we are faced.
For example, on Sunday, some Marketing friends and I got together, and before long, I found myself sitting around a bonfire, holding a cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, eating mashed potatoes and salad, while listening to country music on someone’s iPod speakers. I can’t put into words how therapeutic that was. Now, with less than 24 hours until the announcement of our permanent sites, I really have nothing more fitting to say at the moment than, I'm freakin’ OUT.
Expect to hear from me tomorrow concerning my site!
Until next time..
Amidst all this tension surrounding the site assignments, my fellow trainees and I have been looking for escape mechanisms left and right. As opposed to integrating ourselves completely, several of us have reached a point where the commercial and trivial things that have come to characterize the states have become comforting, to the point that they offer a temporary refuge from the immersion with which we are faced.
For example, on Sunday, some Marketing friends and I got together, and before long, I found myself sitting around a bonfire, holding a cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, eating mashed potatoes and salad, while listening to country music on someone’s iPod speakers. I can’t put into words how therapeutic that was. Now, with less than 24 hours until the announcement of our permanent sites, I really have nothing more fitting to say at the moment than, I'm freakin’ OUT.
Expect to hear from me tomorrow concerning my site!
Until next time..
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