asi es la vida - peace corps, guatemala

one last breath...

2009-10-29T11:23:00.001-07:00

Saying good-byes is never easy, but it has proven more difficult than I ever would have imagined at the start of my Peace Corps service over two years ago. I sit here in my adobe house in a mountain top village in the western highlands of Guatemala profoundly changed by this experience.

Words cannot describe.

Rural poverty can often be romanticized as living a quiet bucolic provincial life closer to the land, but my time in Comitancillo, the community where I served, has stripped away any veneer that may have clouded its harsh reality. To romanticize how people live, especially the Mayan women whom I worked with, is another way of dismissing them.

Comitancillo has the second highest rate of malnutrition in Guatemala, a country that has the sixth highest rate of chronic malnutrition in the world. The average birth rate among women I work with is 8. Infant mortality soars and alcoholism ravages.

Peace Corps is not a whirlwind two week voluntourist trek. Far from it. I do not romanticize my experiences here either. Many fellow volunteers who I entered service with hoping to get involved in development work after have sworn it off as too frustrating. I understand the sentiment, but because of the amazing women I had the privilege of working with, I feel nothing short of inspired.

Before entering Peace Corps, many of my beliefs were not founded on experience, but rather on a book I read or a conversation with a college professor. After two years living here, I have found so many of my prior convictions fallen to the wayside while others have been strengthened.

For example...

I am a feminist. Dirty word, I know. And I probably wouldn’t have been wearing it across my chest two years ago, but something happened to me without my even taking notice at first. I spent two years educating Mayan women living in extreme poverty and because I am a woman, I couldn’t help but imagine what my life would be like if I were in their place.

Most are illiterate having received little or no formal education; at every meeting I have to bring an ink pad so that the women can sign in using a thumbprint. Most show up with a child strapped to their back and another in tow as the birthrate looms at 8. They are weather worn from the daily routine that includes carrying firewood, cooking over open fires, hiking long distances through the harsh mountainous terrain, and caring for children and animals. Alcoholism plagues the local population and many deal with abusive husbands. And there is no domestic abuse hotline or shelter in Comitancillo. As the women say, they have to “aguantar”, endure. On top of this, they are Mayan, inexcusably relegated to the outskirts of an unimaginably forgetful and often uncaring world.

What ever happened to the Maya?

I remember studying these “ancient” populations in school as if they were extinct. Far from it. They have survived through Spanish colonization and enslavement, a coup staged by the United States’ CIA of a democratically elected president calling for land reform (United Fruit Company wasn’t such a fan...), the resulting genocide of the Mayan accused of being Communists, and now, a country deeply divided along lines of race and socioeconomic status. And yet 60% of the population in Guatemala remains indigenous... proudly.

The Mayan women I work with are nothing short of inspiring. They stand small of stature, most barely reaching 5 feet in height. Many of their smiles, some of the most beautiful I have ever seen, reveal spaces formerly occupied by teeth. They cover their bodies in colorfully embroidered blouses called huipiles, and cortes, ankle reaching woven fabric wrapped around their lower bodies and cinched with a cloth band, a faja.

Without even knowing what constitutes being an environmentalist or a feminist, never mind an ecofeminist, they are the movement’s strongest constituents. They may not be able to read what the laws say, but they sure as hell are there when protests happen because they can clearly tell the difference between right and wrong. They march against mining companies, not for overarching philosophical ideals, but because they know that their families and animals will not survive if they do not have clean water to drink. They took time they never had to go to talks I gave on organic gardening techniques, because they saw how costly chemicals could be, both monetarily and environmentally. They planted gardens and learnt about nutrition. They quietly asked questions about family planning not wanting to be persecuted in a culture dominated by machismo and the Catholic Church. Everything they ever learned has a practical application and so they concern themselves with the daily “lucha”, an overriding word meaning both the fight and the struggle.

Amazing women.

Humble revolutionaries.

Everyday I wake up in Guatemala and I feel blessed. What a gift. I have a college education, unheard of in my community, especially for a woman. I will never have to “aguantar” an abusive relationship. I am 27 years old and childless by choice. I feel powerful by virtue of knowing my rights and being able to exercise them.

Still, women have a long way to go, not just in Guatemala, but the world over. We are bound by media portrayals that poison us, and culturally imposed expectations that it is often easier to conform to rather than to rebel against. And still, I feel comparatively free.

As my grandmother always says, “The world is your oyster. Enjoy it.”, and so I aspire to.

It is with equal measure of anticipation and fear that I am returning to the United States. I keep asking myself, Where do I fit? I am apprehensive to return to a culture that is obsessed with images that are nothing short of just that, images. Nothing real. I don’t want to be seen as self-righteous, but I am genuinely concerned about returning to a place that frankly, just doesn’t care. I have no job, no lover, no car, no home.

And yet... now know I have so much.

I feel like a fully formed person, a woman, and I’m not sure I would have been able to say this two years ago struggling with that requisite mid-twenties existential crisis. I know how I feel, and yet am now more accepting of diverse opinions than I was as a “cocksure” (eh-hem) college student. I had the privilege of two years in Peace Corps with many evenings left free to contemplate the drastically different environment I willingly immersed myself in. I watched the rise of a recession and the institution of the first black president from a primarily observant perspective.

And so it is with both apprehension and pride that I return to the country that has afforded me all of these opportunities. Thank you to both my friends and family in the States and my friends that became family in Guatemala for all the love and support.

Keep on fighting the good fight.

Much love and peace,

Kelly

Read the following article featured in the Economist to learn more about Guatemala and malnutrition...

http://www.economist.com/world/americas/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14313735

2008-12-02T10:44:00.000-08:00

amalia and me at the river

2008-11-03T11:37:00.000-08:00

celebrating day of the dead in todos santos
todos santos drunken horce race

my good friend juanita giving a charla

preparing lunch with the ladies

just a quick note...

2008-10-30T08:03:00.000-07:00

at a time when international diplomacy seems more important than ever, peace corps is facing cuts. although with a faltering economy it is understandable that everyone needs to start tightening their belts, peace corps is not where the US government should be cutting back.

read this...

"Congress loves the Peace Corps . . . and in most cases accommodations are made to give it a little bit more," said Maureen Carroll, who went to the Philippines in the first wave of volunteers in 1961 and still helps with training. "But if they think it is a good thing or a nice thing, it seems they don't think about it enough to double or triple its funding. There are a lot of competing forces."
(quoted from LA Times article below)

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-peacecorps14-2008sep14,0,3857618.story?page=1

President elect Barack Obama has stated that he wants to double the size of the Peace Corps by the year 2011, the organization's 50th Anniversary. Please visit the below website and sign a petition to get "More Peace Corps".

http://www.morepeacecorps.org

...there seems to have recently been many areas where the US government has gone wrong, but through my own experiences as a volunteer i have come to believe peace corps is something they've actually done right.

write to your senator and let them know what you think.

http://www.senate.gov/general/contact_information/senators_cfm.cfm

2008-10-28T15:36:00.000-07:00

afternoon with the ladies of taltimiche

going home again...

2008-10-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

last month i loaded my backpack with a bathing suit and a couple pair of clean underwear heading back to the ¨home¨I left almost exactly one year ago.

volunteers returning stateside during their service seem to have mixed experiences. some, especially those that go back during the holiday onslaught, become woozey and a bit overwhelmed by the pressing weight of reimmersion in the consumer culture they (happily...) left behind. others delve giddily into the so-called luxuries they previously took for granted: hot showers and cold beverages.

i thankfully felt a healthy balance of each.

i got off the plane in fort lauderdale ready to make my connection and was immediately struck by how enormous people were. they were tall and just massive. it was strange having left a town where the majority of the population suffers from chronic malnutrition to a nation of Goliaths. i am by no means a petite woman standing at a seemingly towering 5 feet 8 1/2 inches here in guatemala. upon arrival i felt transformed into a liliputian bouncing down the hall like an in the flesh version of pong.

passing through customs did little to assuage my nerves.

HAVE YOUR PASSPORTS OUT AND READY PEOPLE!!! why the hell were they screaming at me? i got off the plane and all the sudden was being barked at in english.

i´ve never seen anyone more misserable in their work environment than the woman working the xray machine in fort lauderdale airport.i quietly shuffled through the line wondering silently to myself if it wasn´t to late to turn back. i got to the passport check and the man behind the counter looked me up and down quizically. he questioned how it was possible to have left the country for a year and only be returning with a small backpack. i explained i was in the peace corps. he looked at my bleary eyes, worn out hikers, and patched jeans and seemed convinced....

yup, definetely peace corps.

i made a run to the ladies room, got in a stall, and just sat there.

i felt like a lost kid in a supermarket searching around a sea of legs wondering where my mama went. i sat on a toilet with my head in my hands feeling sorry for myself. i wanted to go home. i thought back to my typical morning commute through the mountains of guatemala looking down on silent clouds floating below my feet. i listened to the conversation of women carefully applying their daily war paint in the mirror outside and began to wonder if this was still my world.

after a few more minutes of wallowing with little other alternative i decided to face the crowds.

i can't say that my reaction was surprising. even prior to my departure to peace corps i had been trying to embrace a more simplified pace of life. every time i turned on the tv i felt bored and even repulsed. if media is a mirror to culture then we should be embarrassed as to what our reflection reveals about our own displaced values. this is not to say i am by any means a moral purist. i drink modestly, smoke occasionally, swear regularly and with ease, and believe in freedom of speech despite what (some) conservatives swear is derailing so called "patriotism" and "traditional values". still, when what captures our imagination are dumb-downed reality shows and 16 year olds that place little value on anything apart from possessions, it makes one wonder, what are we choosing to worship?

philosopher of religiosity paul tillich once made us consider, what are our ultimate concerns? it may be time to revisit this culturally and societally defining question. we are loathed on the international stage and fighting to maintain some crumb of credibility in the diplomatic realm. predictably, cnn polls reveal a country divided geographically with the red states settling in a neat pile at the bottom and center of the map, and the blue states slowly seeping in along the northern and coastal edges.

there seems to be widespread panic that the united states is flailing. that we may not be able to maintain our vigilent watch as the leader of the free world. and why should this cause such an inflated inferiority complex? so what if we are number two or even number three? yes, it may mean that we have to take public transportation, and limit the daily latte consumption. but don´t worry. you´ll be fine. the united states has the infrastructure, educational base, and technological capabilities to withstand a financial meltdown.

we will not end up suffering the financial and human hardships that guatemala struggles with every day.

the united states has been on a material pandemic binge in recent years and it is only natural that there would be a resulting reverse effect. we treated clothes not as something to uphold modesty and warmth, but rather as a disposable razor; used a few times and then thrown out when the most recent issue of cosmo informs us that it has been relegated to the ¨don´t¨list. we sat our children in front of television sets for an average of four hours a day and then wondered as their attention spans were widdled down to the length of the typical 30 second commercial spot. we medicated our children with ritalin and ourselves with prozac transforming the word ¨stress¨from a noun into a verb. we bought every fast food gimic including scantily clad pop goddesses and suffered from diabetes and heart disease as a result. and so hear we stand, the so-called leaders of the developed world, bloated from a solid 20 years of excess.

as sarah palin strides onto the political stage in her three inch heels and plastered smile expousing values of "small town america", i wonder does that america exist any longer? she is appealing to a nation nostalgic for a time when things were supposedly simpler. it is an understandable yearning as the United States (and global) economy faces a heady and uncertain future. we want something as comforting as grandma's apple pie and palin's "gee whiz" and "gosh darn't" wholesomeness seems to many an appropriate dose of old fashioned medicine.

still, i doubt as to whether the nation palin speaks about actually can still be found. as her political rallies are lined with (lets face it) a sea of white women proudly sporting american flag paraphenalia it makes me wonder if these supporters are truly listening to the v.p. candidate´s words. sure, she can deliver a heck of a prepared speech complete with appropriate winks and "you betchas", but do the views she relays accurately reflect the world we currently live in or even aspire to live in? her candor, outside of face to face interviews where (gasp!) she is made to think on her own, is said to appeal to the "everyday six-pack joe" and "hockey mom". But truth be told, how many of us currently truly fit into those stereotypes?

women are not just hockey moms and thank god for that.

recently in a phone conversation my father told me of a sign in a neighbor's yard proudly declaring "WOMEN FOR PALIN!" accompanied by a hot pink high heel. i greatly admire the strong work ethic of both governor palin, senator hillary clinton, and other women that choose to enter the political realm. that is why they should be touted as role models for young women; because of their intelligence and conviction. not because of their oh-so fahionable glasses, or the amount of leg they choose to bare (or not bare) at political conventions.

when did the high heel become the symbol for women's lib??

in the year 2007 it is disappointing to see how far women still have to go in order to achieve gender equity. it is even more disappointing to see many women themselves buying into the shallow images being distributed by the republican campaign. as much as i am happy to see a woman standing at the forefront of politics, her vagina is never going to be the reason why i choose to vote for her.i felt at times what could best be described as pitty for senator clinton as she made a tough race for the democratic candidacy. she is what i see as a fiercely intelligent politician well-versed in the pitfalls and possibilities that arise upon murky capitol hill. she has stood firm in her support of reproductive rights for women including to the controversial morning after pill. yet, as a candidate she was constantly being told to "soften" her image. it was believed that the public just couldn't handle a tough woman. so a political candidate in the running for what is arguably the most powerful job in the world was reduced to doing fashion critique for glamour magazine.

as tina fey quipped that "bitch is the new black", on SNL i couldn't help but notice that the immediate parallel being drawn between women in politics was to fashion.

all candidates, no matter what their sex, are in some ways obligated to do the talk show circuits discussing their leisure activities with Regis and making fun of themselves on SNL, and it is important part to getting to know a candidate. still, there seems to be added pressure for female politicians to not come off as too "hard". they are encouraged to relay their maternal instincts to audiences basking in the light of little junior's successes on the baseball field or jane's success in the school geography bee .although i think parenting skills may be in some way a testament to a candidate's character, what does it have to do with solving the current economic crisis and how as president they would handle a war spiraled out of control in the middle east?

as women, we have fought long and hard to be able to have jurisdiction over our own bodies, and palin believes that, even in the case of rape, a woman should be denied her right to choice. our nation has made great stride in recent years in granting individual freedoms and not having government determine whom we choose to love (at least in some states), and what god we worship. palin represents a regression from all that progress we made.

there is a natural instinct to backpeddle when things go awry as they appear to be doing in the United States. as senator obama's campaign pronounces the need for "CHANGE", many citizens feel as though things are just changing a little too fast for their liking.

still, it is important that we heed the call for forward progress. as much as many would love to revert back to the pre-JFK provinciality of the 1950's, that time has passed. trying to mimick it would be in many ways nothing short of dangerous. time to move on.

it has been strange living in another country as the presidential campaigns unfold back in the states. it has also been scary. do i want to return to a country run by a president that sees a world divided and shirks off diplomacy as pandering to terrorists?

it remains an open ended question until we are made to answer and define ourselves in november.

after a few more hours en rounte i made it safely home. i lay on my bed in the same room i grew up in and stared up at my ceiling still decorated by glow in the dark stickers mimicking constellations.

despite a bit of a trying start i ended up having a WONDERFUL time in rhode island. i am blessed with an amazing family and friends. i am a beach soul through and through and miss it terribly living in the western highlands of Guatemala. although it was nice having good beer and ben and jerry´s ice cream, it is the people and the ocean i truly miss.

i parked myself on the sand for two weeks straight and soaked in as much of that salty air as i could. i was truly on vacation. i got to do all of those things that made my hometown such a special place to me...danced to some quality reggae at the mist with my love, got a vanilla chai at crazy burger, wore (scandolously) short skirts and bikinis without fear of being culturally inappropriate, bought the new york times on sunday morning, sat on grandma peg´s front porch, did a beautifully classic vermont hike at mount hunger, watched my cousins give an irish step dancing performance, and got rid of my farmers tan.

i understand the comforts of simplicity and why people are drawn to them. it was nice coming home and not thinking of anything beyond the food on my plate and people near to me. what we face now are questions of a more profound matter beyond this immediate material world. are the values of equality, and freedom we decree in national documents really what we are ready to put into action? i eventually had to return from days languished on the beach absorbed in books to the outside world too easily escaped.

it is of necessity to see those things which are beautiful in our everyday lives while at the same time recognizing that our everyday labours are a realization of our faith. our fear of inaddequacy, financial ruin, and failure will only be salvaged if we can see with clear eyes what is truly right in front of us this moment, and how our doings are in truth, an act of worship.

gender blender

2008-07-10T17:30:00.000-07:00

2008-06-12T09:45:00.000-07:00

preparing veggies...

the hike leading up to volcanoe tajamulco, highest point in central america...
resting post hike of volcanoe chicabal...

2008-06-11T15:53:00.000-07:00

jose sucio....

i am sitting on just over a half a year of service as a volunteer and finally (finally!) am beginning to feel as though i have a clue what i'm doing... it's been at least a month since i've gotten lost and ended up in a cornfield someplace, a weighty accomplishment in my eyes.

in the last couple of months i have had several groups ask about how to prepare different foods. it's great to have a family garden, but if you have no idea what to do with a carrot, what good are all those lovely vitamins sitting underground? i myself am not much of a cook, but more of an experimenter as most of my family can attest to. they have witnessed me attempt and destroy many well intentioned culinary preparations. still, i'm learning here that a little knowledge can go long way.

ever heard of a "dirty jose", a jose sucio. yeah, that's right. Sloppey joes guatemala style. one thing that the diet here tends to lack is protein. although people get more than their fair share of beans, buying meat is costly and unrealistic for the majority of families here. especially with 11 children. what is fairly accessible and reasonable priced at about 26 cents a pound is a product called "protemas". this flavorless colorless meat subsitute is a vegetarian peace corps volunteer's dream come true and also when cooked with the right proportion of ingredients and veggies decently appetizing to most chapines (i.e. guatemalans) i've met. "jose sucios" have been given the seal of approval by most of the women's groups i work with.

along with the preparation of different foods i have been trying to teach why exactly it is important to consume them. why make an atol with fruit (fruit tea) as opposed to just downing a bottle of refreshing tiky piña (pineapple soda)? good question. herein lies the challenge: to convince people that the more healthy alternative is possibly worth more than that initial sugar energy burst that comes from a cola. people here are accustomed to certain foods, just as in the states. if any population should know how difficult it is to give up certain eating compulsions/addictions it ought to be those from the U.S., home of every ridiculous diet fad you care to name. it is if anything, a slow process trying to convince someone's tastebuds to take a risk and try something new. without doubt mine have been taken on more than a few exciting rides since living in guatemala and i, thankfully and happily, haven't regretted one venture yet.

2008-04-01T07:05:00.000-07:00

grandma pat´s apple pie with moon and stars motife... sometimes i get bored.

treating ourselves to a fancy dinner in santa craz el lago

we like hats.

central park, antigua

Patrick comes to Guatemala...

this last month i got to have my first visitor to my site. my boyfriend, patrick, made the long trek from little rhodie to hang out in guatemala for a couple of weeks. so much fun to see him after over half a year! it was also just nice to be with someone who knows me and whom i'm so comfortable with.

volunteers often talk about the duality of personality that often comes with living in a community so culturally far removed from the states. although in time i have begun to feel more comfortable in my town, cultural taboos sometimes prevent me from just being the me i'm used to back home - to let my hair down so to speak. part of this is just part of being culturally sensitive, but having to constantly consider the appropriateness of words and actions in a new context can sometimes be plain exghausing.

this is not to say there is nothing to talk about. people like to joke around and talk about every day things like anywhere in the world. the human struggle that comes from personal relationships is pretty much the same here as back home.

also, sometimes the struggles here have this feeling of legitemacy that doesn't really seem to transfer to the united states: "Estamos luchando..." - we are fighting. we are struggling just to make it. back home supposed stresses seem imagined and insignificant in comparison... deciding to paint the living room egg shell or off white... an expensive cell phone bill.... not being able to afford the latest clothes/technical gadget. compared to.... my baby just died of malnutrition. still, i understand that all stress is relative to the reality we face on a daily basis. we all face hardships in that buddhist-life-is-suffering kinda way, right?

so back to Patrick. i was very excited to see him. it was great to get a taste of back home here in this corner of the world. we checked out the chaos of market day in my site, pulled weeds at "la granja", watched sunset out at the lake, and witnessed some of the processions and flower carpets in Antigua during Semana Santa (Holy Week). more than anything we just hung out in my site, cooked a lot, and played with my puppy.

it is hard being far away from one another, but i think it is worth it....

next time patrick will hopefully be spared some of the side affects of street food although those papas fritas with the pica mas can be pretty hard to resist:-)

spending an afternoon at "la granja"

i don't know.

those crazily fun dentists with the ladies of taltimiche

semana santa in my home town

rough week...

i have one sick puppy. no, really she is actually very sick. the last couple of weeks have been hard. not the kind of hard where i have been able to find some sort of ideal peace corps "the moral of the story/lesson learned is"...

i'm sick. one week with fever, not wanting to leave bed, hacking up some lovely liquids kinda sick. it isn't the type of situation where i was feeling like hopping on a camioneta and taking the bumpy three and a half hour bus ride to see a doctor. i figured i would just sweat it out.

but....

my dog, amalia, was sick, too. she's still a little babe and she was shitting blood and vomiting, a possibly deadly combo for a puppy. i would have brought her to the vet, but it was semana santa meaning that the whole country, including vets offices, were shut down. by the time i got her to the doctor both her and myself were in rough shape. the supposedly experienced doctor gave her a couple of shots and we were on our way.

as we left she was having difficuly walking with her right leg, but i figured she was still pretty sore from the injections. it's been two weeks since we went to the vet and she still cannot walk. i feel like a bad mother or something. it's just sad to see her hobbling around, but we have been doing some serious physical therapy to try and better her leg.

so here is the frustration.... i could not bring her to the vet for a week when she was sick, because the whole country shuts down for a holiday. also, what i thought was a good vet ended up doing some serious damage (possible permenant) to my dog.

times like this is when i ask myself, what the hell am i doing here anyways? i feel very frustrated about the entire situation.

pero, asi es la vida, ¿no?

2008-03-02T10:38:00.000-08:00

female leader del puesto de salud
mariella, my mam teacher and amiga
women on foot loom in our organzation's weaving center

my patio more than slightly disorganized
amalia, my "chit" (puppy in mam) and me
hatching pollitos
papa taller
view from my road

gender bender...

2008-03-01T11:37:00.000-08:00

right now i am sitting in a computer lab in antigua next to posada ruiz, the hostal i'm staying at for a whopping 25 Q a night (about $3.25). i came here to have a reunion of GAD, Peace Corps´Gender and Development committee. i, along with another woman, will be editting the "gender bender", the quarterly publication published by the organization.

this issue is supposed to be on dating in guatemala. hmmm.

i can see why for many peace corps volunteers, especially women, it would be difficult to overcome the cultural barriers between sexes here. Guatemala is a much more traditional culture and many female volunteers may have qualms about fulfilling some of the more customary aspects of women
's familial roles. still, there are many volunteers that have successful relationships with HCN (host country nationals).

side note.

last week i practically tripped over a former volunteers exboyfriend. he was passed out in the middle of the street at 3:00 on a tuesday afternoon. ive heard a few women say how he is one of the better men in our community. i have yet to see any of his more redeeming qualities.

the town in live in has a serious drinking problem (52% of my towns population, including children, are affected by alcoholism). the majority of those who suffer from alcoholism are men. according to my boss there are more cantinas (bars) than panaderias (bakeries). what do you do as a full grown adult unable to provide for your family? how does one over come the monotomny of living in this remote place? it is a hard reality. with this serious drinking problem comes other issues such as domestic violence. it is the poorest community in guatemala and many of its challenges, including alcoholism, are symptoms of this wide spread poverty. if you walk by alcoholics anonynous on a wednesday evening it's just as lively and raucous as an evangelical church. whether this community´s poverty is a result of or a cause of of social issues is a matter of debate. honestly, i am not really sure if it matters either way.

despite challenges faced by people here i have met a lot of amazing men, most of whom work with my organization. one of the men on our board of directors has made it his life´s work to serve his community and neighbors. he has received little formal education, but his expertise in animal care is amazing. another male promoter wakes up before sunrise to ride his bike to neighboring communities often ignored by NGO's because they are inaccessible by car. he works tirelessly and exudes compassion.

one of the goals of the organization i am working with is actually to make it more of a familial based network, and less concentrated on solely women. i have mixed feelings about this shift in focus, because i see women´s involvement as one of our greatest strengths although i do see the necessity to make it more inclusive.

men dominate the public sector. the local government is a sea of men's faces, and women are constantly denied access to these more influential public domains. our organization gives women the opportunity to be leaders and promoters. i have several friends who work in local municipalitys´offices and constantly deal with gender issues. it is something that wares on them day in and out and they along with Guatemalans in the public arena sharing the same sentement fight tirelessly to try and even the field.

i am not sure how my experience would differ if i was a male volunteer serving here. it is hard to say. maybe women in the community's i work with are more open and comfortable with me and this is certainly a great advantage.

2008-02-15T07:44:00.000-08:00

i work in development.

yesterday my friend Juanita asked if i would go to a community to take some pictures of "abaniles" (stone masons), and a specific type of chicken our organization is working with.

sure, no problem.

i have visited jicaro a couple of times in the past so i had a general idea how to get there. somewhere along the say all the paths began to look the same and it became apparent that i was lost. i asked a woman along the route for directions.

you just go "mas alla" - more over there.

not exactly the response i was hoping for.

somehow what started as a path ended up being a cornfield on top of a small-mountain/large-hill. as i tried to edge my way out a pack of dogs came up with teeth gleaming. i had apparently crossed into their territory. i grabbed the closest rock in the process throwing my mayan language notebook in the air creating a rain of papers.

at some point during my panicked ungraceful retreat the owner of the dogs came out of her adobe house and they quickly subsided. wooooh. i gathered my papers feeling more than a little grateful, my heart still racing.

i got directions and was on my way.

i arrived at reina's house camera in hand. it turns out that one of the group member´s husbands died from drinking. the women were out gathering flowers. in addition no abanil´s were out working because it was "el dia del cariño" (i.e. valentine´s day). also, all the women had sold the chicken´s our organization had distributed in favor of the local "criollo" breed.

hmmm.

i have luckily learned a good deal of patience through traveling and living in latin america. the truth is as much as it would be great if things came together easily and people showed up on time here, i'm adjusting to the pace of life. if people are an hour late showing up, do i really have any pressing appointments later on in the day?

probably not.

these sort of inbetween times is when i get to get to know people and that is a big part of being here. i dont have these very clear goals in my mind as maybe i had in the past. more a sense of and a hope of an upward moving trajectory. as long as i am moving in the right direction, and i am making progress, however small, i make peace with it.

after my chaotic trip there i tried to take advantage of the time snapping photos of the comunity and a couple of chickens, and "chompipes" (turkeys).

so where is the progress in a seemingly wasted trip like this? i´ve got to find something to salvage from a "lost" morning.... next week i'm going to stop by the women's weekly meeting to introduce myself and hopefully i will be able to work with them.

...i work in development.

2008-02-11T08:37:00.000-08:00

...mi horario

a daily routine is becoming a distant memory with each passing day here. there is no daily schedule as it existed in the united states. for instance right now i am getting ready for an incoming group of canadian dentists, trying to learn as much as i can about "papas" (potatoes) before helping with a "taller" (workshop) next week, and getting ready for a spay and neutering clinic for dogs and cats (a fellow volunteer suggested we may want to do the same for a few men in the community...).

also, i´m excited to begin corresponding with my friend, "Mrs. Sosnowski"´s, spanish class back in little rhody. i remember not enjoying spanish in high school. it seemed all about memorizing vocab and learning grammar. blah. it wasn´t until i got to travel that the material came to life.

language is a medium for reaching a culture. somethings simply do not translate from spanish to english (or english to spanish) and herein lies the beauty. using language here is how i learn what people value, think, feel, and do here. it is a way of gaining "confianza". i hope that having correspondence with someone actually living in a country where spanish is spoken (along with 21 mayan languages and garifuna) will help to bring the material to life to students.

so it is not so blah.

2008-02-07T07:53:00.000-08:00

i have a new puppy and her name is amalia! apparently this is also the name of a woman on our board of directors who is not too happy to have a "chucha" (street dog) named after her. this may be the closest my parents get to grandchildren for a while...

2008-01-22T09:23:00.000-08:00

the first three months...

are the hardest. that is what we were told repeatedly during training. still getting a hold on things in site, but it is beginning to feel like home. i´ve had the chance to give a couple of "charlas" with groups here, mainly consisting of classes on nutrition. it isnt planting season here til April-May so a lot of people havent planted family gardens yet.

what i have learned is that i should not attempt to cook here. the first reunion i had with a group i attempted to make banana bread while the women taught me how to make a diet staple here, tamales. while working on the tamales, one woman tapped me lightly on the shoulder and whispered that my bread was on fire. not the best manner of inroduction.

yesterday i had a reunion with a different group that had asked me to teach how to make an egg torte (spanish tortilla-omlett). their set up was cooking over an open flame. the smoke was intense and yet again i burnt the meal. i definetely understand why we are doing the stove project here. many women cook over open flames inside. they, along with their children receive the affects of daily smoke inhilation and i cant imagine what their lungs look like. hence the prevelancy of respiratory disease in rural areas of guatemala.

afterwards we made some better looking egg omlettes, and i gave a little talk on nutrition. the cooking fiascos have been more than a little embarassing, but i have learned a valuable lesson: i should stay away from food unless it is growing in the ground.

na'b'l...

i have spent a lot of time just trying to get acclimated. learning mam (the local language) is not a luxury, but a necessity for daily communication with women in rural areas. more than anything it is a very isolating feeling to be surrounded by people and not have a clue what they are saying. i will definetely return to the states with a deeper sensitivity for refugee and immigrant populations (whether legal or not) and their struggles with cultural and lingual acquisition. last week i started mayan language classes with Mariella, a woman from our organization. i cant believe she is only 22 years old. she is widowed (her husband walked off a cliff while intoxicated), the mother of two children, and has the maturity of someone double her age.

mam is not easy.

tquqbil q'aq' .... that's how you say stove.

for the most part, i have been enjoying things. life is decidedly "tranquilo" and i'm enjoying the slower pace. the volunteers had an ugly christmas sweater party last week, i got to have oreos and fresh milk yesterday (my first glass since august!), i hike to work, and i'm going to a birthday party this weekend. also i may be getting a puppy very soon. hopefully he-she gets along well with my cat.

2008-01-12T08:57:00.000-08:00

new years sunset: lago atitlan
windblown
everything is going well here... just havent had a lot of time to write. had fun spending christmas with my host family and new years on the lake. hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday season!

2008-01-01T14:36:00.000-08:00

2007-12-07T14:32:00.000-08:00

food poisoning...

i guess it´s bound to hit when moving to any foreign country, but prior to wednesday i had been spared. the day started out with a "taller" on malnutrition. we were training community members on how to weigh and measure children under the age of two using an infantometro.

reading the scales proved to be understandably difficult for many of the participants, many of whom are iliterate or have a basic reading level. i worked with a woman named aurelia. she struggled with the scales, but i think she got it in the end (keeping my fingers crossed).

for lunch we headed to comedor rosalinda, and i got the caldo served with tomatillos. caldo basically is soup with a watery broth, usually cooked with meat and veggies (i gotta just remove the meat... it´s not always easy being a vegetarian in guatemala).

felt a little funny afterward, but my reaction did not start until later that night. if you´ve ever had food poisoning you understand. basically i spent about twentyfour hours over the toilet wanting to die. i felt pathetic and alone. i called up my mom just for sympathy points. i basically just needed someone else to feel sorry for me so that i wasn´t only feeling sorry for myself.

i´ll spare you all of the graphic details of the sickness. more difficult was just struggling with being sick, and not having anyone to take care of me. this is all part of the experience here. many volunteers told us prior to swearing in that dealing with the solitude and loneliness is the most difficult part. i have been in site so short that i havent yet developed a system of support that i can go to when i am struggling (or pissing out of my ass).

luckily i have a pretty awesome sitemate and she brought me some pan frances. i curled up on my mattress on the floor and slept it off best that i could.

too tall to play...

my friend dan, another PCV, sent me a text the other night asking if i would like to play in our towns basketball tournament. at first visions ran through my mind of my embarrassing performances on the basketball as a (very) uncoordinated adolescent. still, i thought, this may be a good opportunity to meet some new people.

i showed up at the court tuesday afternoon promptly at 3:30 ready to play. the other women showed up one by one. i approached the guy who appeared to be in charge and asked if i could be possibly placed on a team. he kinda mumbled something under his breath and told me to wait a few. i took a seat in the cement bleachers and watched the women gather and put on their uniforms. a few minuntes later someone came over to break me the bad news... i am too tall to play basketball, and i{m not on the list.

prior to this i saw my height being the only advantage i actually have on the court. apart from that i am an unaggressive, uncoordinated mess, still not completely sure what to do with my own limbs at times. ive gotten used to towering above pretty much every "chapin" (guatemalan) i meet and most of the time i just forget about my height.

i would have been sad about the news, but more than anything i just thought it was funny.... (hopefully theyll find a space for me on a team next season:-)

2007-11-23T15:29:00.000-08:00

gracias...

yesterday was turkey day. i think the perception is that holidays are a really hard time to be away from home. so to try and avoid feeling sorry for myself i always opt to spend holidays away from home in a very unconventional way. this thanksgiving was no exception. myself along with twenty other recently sworn in volunteers got to share our pumpkin pie at the US ambassador´s house with him and his wife. they were very welcoming and the food was a nice treat. it was for sure a very (very) surreal day.

it started at about 2:00am. i woke up in my new place laying on a mattress on the floor (havent gotten hold of an actual bed yet...). i dragged myself to the busstop bleary eyed with my backpack in tote and a rock in my hand to ward off late night bolos (drunks) and chuchos (street dogs). i boarded the chicken bus (think of the big yellow things you used to ride to elementary school) and i was on my way. bus rides are full fledged sensory overload. despite it being the middle of the night the driver blared ranchero, probably trying to stay awake more than anything else. people are packkkkkkkked in. at one time there was five people in my seat, 3 adults and 2 children. not the most comfortable ride, but who can complain when you can do a 7 hour ride for 30 quetzales (about 4 dollars). i showed up at cuerpo de paz in a bit of a stupor and soon realized that i had forgotten to bring shoes. i had to wear green crocs to the ambassadors house... sorry mom.

we got there and it was beautiful. me and the other agriculture volunteers spent a good portion of our time scoping out the gardens which were amazingly gorgeous. we got to sip some fine wine, eat some traditional turkey and stuffing (at least the nonvegetarians - no they did not serve tofurkey), and swim in a heated pool. the highlight for sure was the pumpkin cheesecake. a nice change to have some comfort food from the states although ive developed a soft spot for pepian here.

paradox...

well the paradox here is pretty obvious. this is why i could never work for the state department. i understand the necessity of having this seperation between foreign service workers and the people (minus the really rich/powerful people typically) in country... i guess. the high walls, big gates and security guards. they´re all business, official, suit and tie, and their purpose in country is to promote the interests of the united states government. someones gotta do it. i´m just glad it´s not me in the tie.

to go from a congested bus in the poorest town in all of guatemala to a plush home in guate was a jolting experience. so much in this country, everything in this world is riddled with these paradoxes. thanksgiving was just a magnified, REALLY magnified, example of this.

it was a beautiful day.

both the bus ride at 2:00 am and the afternoon at the ambassadors house.

poco a poco...

so i started work last week as a full fledged volunteer (wooooohoooo!). let me be straight up... it was awesome, but it was hard as starting any new job is. it just happens that this new job is a little more intense, because of language barriers (havent quite mastered MAM yet), cultural differences ...and basically because i am not a guatemalan.

the organization i´m working for has been really successful from what ive seen at striking a good balance between serving the local community and serving the wants of international donating agencies. this typically means they´ve done a good job at doing studies of progress, and maintaining a certain level of transparency, a pretty spectacular feat in a country inundated with corruption

day 1 - i went to a workshop on gender. the organization has about 500 female members and only about 100 men. i personally see this as a huge plus, but they are trying to examine how to get men more involved. most men here wouldn´t be too enthused about getting involved in weaving projects here to say the least. finding ways to diversify projects so that men too could become involved was the basic focus of the day.

one of the great things about our organization has been its work with women. its a very empowering thing to see the work they are doing. the womens groups allow them to occupy the leadership roles they are typically denied in national and local politics.

day 2 - i built a house for potatoes. its an agriculture project a group of women is doing. the husbands tackled the labor while women did smaller tasks (carrying wood...). i contemplated taking up a hammer, but it was my first day and it was cool just to hang out with the women. they all spoke in MAM and when i first arrived i didnt even know if they spoke spanish. turns out they do! at least the younger women do. i got a lot of questions about the states (will you teach me english? how much does it cost to go to the states? how many dollars did your shoes cost?) which i tried...TRIED to artfully dodge with some degree of success. besides that, we spent a lot of time talking about family and boyfriends/esposos, and the projects they´ve been doing.

i felt shy and intimitated being the new woman, but it was a good day.

day 3 - workshop with coworkers on food security (hey! that´s my job here!). the secretary of "seguridad alimentaria" gave the talk and also some pretty disturbing stats about malnutrition in guatemala and our department. i´ll make sure to post them some time soon...

things are good, but it is for sure a process finding my place here... poco a poco.

i hope everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving stateside. much love.

p.s. i saw a pretty amazing movie narrated by rigoberta menchu about guatemala called "when the mountains tremble". definetely try and see it if you can get a hold of a copy.

2007-11-17T13:27:00.000-08:00

2007-11-17T13:18:00.000-08:00

chin gólben tey

2007-11-17T12:56:00.000-08:00

after much anticipation i got to visit my site last week. my counterpart from the orranization i will be working with came to the peace corps training center for a little orientation session and then we were on our way. i am lucky it is beautiful. temperate climate, pine trees, and mountains.

talking to volunteers it typically seems that both their counterparts and the organizations they work for vary greatly in size and organization. some are working for multimillion dollar international NGO´s while others work for small community based organizations. i am relieved that my organization is locally centered and employs people from the community that speak the language (...apart from myself). even though they are relatively small they still appear very well organized and that they have a lot of passion for the work they do in the field of development.

it also seems like anything i´m interested in doing they would be down with. nutrition, appropriate technology, family gardens, education projects, reforestation... as long as it seems like a healthy step in the right direction they seemed enthused.

i also found a new home (my first own place...sorta). i was lucky to find something really easily. i will be moving into the home of a peace vorps volunteer who is finishing her service right now. pictures will be incoming... as long as i have space for a garden, i´m happy.

i swear to...

the big day arrived. yesterday we got dressed up in all our finery, went to the home of the us ambassador and officially became peace corps volunteers. i think ive been anticipating becoming a volunteer since high school or before. its very crazy to be here now. surreal at times.

all of us got to bring members of our host families and that was really great to share the day with them. i think living with them has been the best part of my service so far. i am overwhelmed by their warmth, kindness, and quick wit. the night before the ceremony they surprised me with the traditional apron that the women in their community wear. i was so excited and proud to wear it.

2007-11-05T14:14:00.000-08:00

2007-11-05T13:37:00.000-08:00

ladrones...!

yesterday turned out to be a not so bueno day. me and jose hiked to our little garden with our host brother Frenel. the game plan was to transplant some brocolli and harvest some big juicy rabanos (radishes).

we walked down the small hill approaching our garden and...... devestation. all of our radishes were gone. and it wasn't because some chicken or insect chomped down on them. someone or (somebodies) stole them. i think having something stolen is one of the worst feelings in the world. even if the something stolen has little or no value (i.e. rabanos) it is just the feeling of being in some way violated.

what strikes me more however is how sad it is that somebody would actually steal vegetables either for their own consumption or to sell at market. My host grandmother said that this is actually a fairly common occurence. my little host brother said he would start guarding our garden for us. definetely appreciate the sentiment, but he's nine and his best weapon is a rock he sometimes totes around. it's a really big rock, though:-)

asi es la vida.

the rest of the day went fine. we transplanted, and i helped dona marta shuck some black beans (we've shifted from shucking green beans to black beans).

2007-11-02T16:21:00.000-07:00

officially in my mid twenties...

i ate carrot cake so i guess that makes it official. i`m 25 years old. Jose (i.e. joseph), another volunteer living in our house, got me a tasty carrot cake from Doña Luisas, i got a lot of cards written to "tia kelly", and of course me and sara danced goofily and we played mandolin. could not think of any better way to spend a birthday in guatemala, and i think the kids had fun, too.

my mom asked me if there was anything specific that i wanted her to send me for my birthday. green tea and chocolate.... and underwear (the pila - a stone basin used to wash dishes and clothing - does quite a number to a pair of delicate draws). more than anythinig i wanted her to send me things i could share with the kids like crayons and coloring books.

i received packages from my parents and aunt maureen and mac, along with several cards (thank you very much!). i now have a lifetime supply of tea, organic chocolate, and i smell fabulous thanks to some very lovely scented shampoo. unfortunately this isnt doing much to deter my fleas...

pulgas...

pulgas is spanish for fleas. i know that many people would not want to readily admit they have this issue, but i have no shame. just a lot of bites. i never had an issue until i returned home from an excursion we took in the oriente and from there the problem has escalated. i rarely actually see my little friends, but my bites are a clear testament to their existence. i have considered telling my family about the issue, but i have a feeling they may just soak my bed in okko, an insecticide. with two weeks left i choose to itch instead. it honestly is not that bad.

another reason why i may be slightly more inclined to turn down the insecticide dousing is because im reading Silent Spring by Rachel Carson. I have skimmed it many times in the past while doing reports on ecofeminism, the study of the relationship that exists between women and the environment. first published in the year 1962, the book examines our excessive use of chemicals to deter supposed pests, and how these substances in turn affect our environment and ourselves. Although the book was published over 40 years ago the message is very relevant to issues we are facing today... could it be that we are poising ourselves, making ourselves sick? she writes fearlessly and i admire that. her message is clear.

so i choose pulgas instead.

your site is guatemala...

presently i am a trainee. the best i can describe it as is a semester study abroad. you learn a lot, live with a host family, try your best not to speak english with other volunteers, and hope that you leave feeling slightly more competent than when you arrived. so far i have been in training with about 30 other people from across the US (plus one ) bodiqua. all of this has been building up to our actual site placements. this is the moment when we all find out where we will be living for the next two years of our lives.

naturally the build up to this day was a little stressful.

we were told where the sites for our group (food security) were located, and then each given an individual interview where we could express our hopes for our service, and what, if any, preferences we had concerning a site. some peoples requests read like a lengthy shopping list: cool but not cold, in the mountains, indigenous, but spanish speaking, small, rural, with womens groups, not working with schools.... etc. as much as i understand the desire to express wants it started to edge on slightly ridiculous so i tried to keep mine short and sweet.

i want to go somewhere where i can learn, somewhere rural, and somewhere where there is a need.

our associate peace corps director came to our individual towns to tell us our placements. leading up to this there has been near obsession among trainees trying to guess as to where everyone is going. i tried to not think about it and tried to keep an open mind.

salvador, our APCD (associate peace corps director) came by with the envelopes. myself and the other three soon to be volunteers from my site eagerly waited as he handed out a manilla folder with the name of our new home printed on the front.

i`m not suppose to write any specific information about sites (supposed security reasons - george won`t let me). i can give you a general idea about where i am headed.

the population is 99.5% indigenous. they speak a langauge called mam. its in the mountains with a cooler climate (pack a sweater if you come to visit!), isolated, rural, supposedly beautiful, hit hard by poverty and alcoholism, and with its own handshake.

a female volunteer currently serving there had approached all of the females in my group prior to when we learned our sites. she said that it is beautiful, but it is a hard site. a place with a lot of need, and a lot of social issues that make progress an upward climb at times. it is the poorest town in the entire country.

asi, asi...

i have been inundated with many feelings now knowing my site. im excited, apprehensive, sad to be saying goodbye to my current host family... more than anything i feel blessed.

guatemala is an amazing place. everyday it teaches me something new and becomes that much more intricately beautiful. it is multilayered. having been given the opportunity to experience it is something that i feel exceptionally grateful for. i truly have the best job in the world, although at times it proves imensely frustrating and intimidating.

i try as best as i can to avoid romanticizing the history or poverty of this country. i think when one does this it in effect diminishes the profundity of a place, and is dismissive. living simply does not not necessarily equate to happiness. nor does living a life in the states with all of the modern amenities mean one is content either.

i am happy that i am going somewhere where i can hopefully eventually feel to some extent slightly useful...

i am trying to be realistic as well.

barrilettes...

the typcial halloween debautury that takes place in the states doesnt really happen here. instead people celebrate the day of the dead and all souls day. people here go to the graves of their loved ones, paint their tombs, decorate with flowers, say prayers, and often bring the favorite food of the deceased to "share" with them. the traditional food here is fiambre which is a giant very expensive mishmash of pickeled vegetalbes, and meat. people also eat soup of ayote, a big green pumpkin. riquisimo (delicious!)

people here also fly barrilettes, or kites, as a way of communicating with ansestors. it`s a really beautiful sight to see all of the kids running around flying their kites with big smiles spread across the faces. the activity in the afternoon becomes dislodging kites from powerlines where most have become stuck. Sara, my host sister Luced, and myself hiked up a bit of a mountain to the soccer field to fly kites. unfortunately there was men playing soccers so we had to return promptly (my host mama would not have approved of me hanging out at the soccer field where there are men. she likes to look out for me and shes a conservative woman). Nevertheless, i got to see an incredible view of the volcanoes, and got a little excercise in.

The following is a conversation that took place between myself and Millie, my five year old host sister and quite possibly my favorite person in the world.

millie - today is the day of the dead, did you know that?

me - yes i did, millie. do you know what happens today?

millie - i think all of the dead people are gonna come to our town.

me - really! wow, i did not know that. do you know what they`re going to do here.

millie - i think they`re going to walk down the street in front of our house!

me - really? like a parade?

millie - yes like a parade!

we later looked for the parade of dead people, but sadly(?) did not find any. Millie said it may because they are invisible and i agreed. maybe next year she will be able to find some.

2007-10-13T15:02:00.000-07:00

quarter century...

tomorrow i will be twentyfive years old. this will be the first of three birthdays celebrated in guatemala (a pretty crazy thought). i am definetely learning that age is a relative thing.

earlier this month we celebrated the birthday of Jose (i.e. Joseph), a fellow volunteer who i live with. it was pretty amazing to see how excited the kids were to throw him a surprise party. we made cards, blew up balloons, and i got a cake with a picture of spiderman on the box (el hombre arena, a pretty big deal in our household). Jose played the mandolin while me and Sara, another volunteer who lives across the street danced around like the goofy ¨gringas¨that we are. Doña Aura made some chocolaté that was pretty special and a good time was had by all.

sort of a big deal...

the material wealth here, there is just no comparison to the massive amounts of stuff we have in the states. objectively all of us as volunteers know that this great disparity exists between our new home and the country we have come from. still, it does not mean that we are able to truly internalize how deep the differences run.

what do you get excited about?

it was nice to see the kids get truly beyond excited about celebrating Jose´s birthday. it is nice that they are asking me about what we´re going to do tomorrow for my birthday. there is a certain amount of anticipation for little things here, because the little things are the big things, i guess.

last week...

last week they sent all of agricultural production out on a field trip. we visited a volunteer living in the oriente, aka, the wild west of Guatemala. we spent time hanging out with families there, and visiting farms.

it is amazing when we meet agricoltores who are taking risks in their work, and employing organic techniques. one man had been splicing together different varieties of avocado trees. he took the roots from the native version and spliced it with haas avocados which bare more fruit. he was a self taught farmer who was finding really innovative ways to better his farm.

he told us that within the next five years his goal was to have a pickup truck... that he would use his two hands to dig it out of the soil. it was definetely a really great analogy for how people achieve a liveable existence here. they dig it out of the soil little by little through hard work.

té...

i´ve always really enjoyed tea back home. every morning i would have a pot of green tea with breakfast. what is also pretty amazing is that i never really knew about the process involved in tea production. this past week we also went to visit a tea cooperative located in cobán. it was more of a community involved and the running both of the business and the town we´re done collectively.

tea plants it turns out grow in small bushes which are harvested about four times every year. learning about where food comes from has been definetely one of the rewarding parts about being here.

things are going well and i am excited to celebrate my birthday with my host family. although it will not be the typical experience of hanging out with friends and family back home, this is also part of what makes it special. it is also what has helped me realize how important it will be for me to develop strong relationships here with people. everyday i feel really blessed.

one month...

2007-09-29T11:47:00.000-07:00

i have been in Guatemala for exactly one month today. it feels as though it has been longer. not because of the more usually anticipated reasons (ohmygodwhathaveigottenmyselfinto kinda reasons). more so because so much has happened in so little time.

there is a (mis)conception among some that Peace Corps is a "cuerpo de paseo" - a time for young adults to spend time finding themselves (whatever that means). peace corps has happily been anything but a leisure ride so far. and some of us may find ourselves, but i think it will be more through being humbled by this incredible corner of the earth.

perspective...

i usually am not a big fan of flying. i tried to understand the momentousness of flying over guatemala, in essence my new home for the next two years. i sat by a window seat choking back a couple of stale peanuts and intermittently taking glances at spiderman 2, our inflight flick. below us was a carpet of green jungle with small dottings of houses adorning the landscape. i´ve already learned that contradictions are abound in Guatemala.

how strange, i thought that soon i will be part of that landscape. it was and continues to be too much to wrap my brain around.

a traveler...

this is not my first time to Guatemala. during university i took a year off from school and went wondering around central america exploring all the beauty. i know that this new experience will be radically different. as a traveler i always had the option of picking up and leaving a place if i wanted a change of scenery, or just simply wasnt enjoying things for whatever reason. now i have committed two years of my life to living in a small corner of an even smaller corner of the world. the ability to leave a place as a backpacker i always saw as a great asset and a good compliment to my more independent nature. still, i think i ahve never known a place i have traveled to in any profound manner.

two years...

"does it freak you out that you´ll be gone for 2-plus years?". yes it does. the last five or six years things have been in constant flux and upheaval. I take things a day at a time here and i´m sure sometimes i will take them at a moment at a time. i try not to ask myself if i will be able to make it for two years here but rather "am i doimg okay today?" and so far my response has been a resounding "yes!". not only am i okay, i am enthralled, fascinated, and enjoying all of the beauty marks Guatemala reveals to me everyday.

nitty gritty...

right now i am a volunteer with the agricultural food security program. our central focus will be to encourage local community members in our sites to create vegetable gardens for their own consumption. we will also be working with livestock, primarily chickens. Access to a healthy diet complimented by a variety of fruits and veggies is sometimes lacking in the local diet, especially in more rural areas of the "campo".

despite the fact that many living in the campo work in agriculture many chose to sell the small quantities of produce they cultivate, because they believe this to be more profitable. even if they are harvesting nutrient rich foods they are often bringing these to markets for sale, or working for a larger farm in which case products are shipped to the united states. in many cases the diet consists of "whites" - pan (bread), tortillas, black beans, and quisguil, a wild growing squash with a nutritional value on par with a potatoe (hello carbs). not so bueno.

the coffee conundrum...

the complexities and paradoxes inherent in local agriculture can be understood more readily by looking at the coffee conundrum. with its mountainous landscape and rich soil much of the country is optimal for coffee (liquid crack for you starbuckians). still, if you go visit the typical home in a coffee producing region there is a pretty good chance that you will be served a steaming cup of nescafe instanteo (i.e. instant coffee).

like coffee many of the locally produced goods here in country are more likely to turn up in your local produce aisle or your paper starbucks cup (made of 100% post consumer recycled materials).

despite the fact that the country is teeming with resources most of the population here (i mean like pretty much everyone...) is not reaping the rewards. this is the basis for much of the work we will be doing as volunteers. the idea is that families and communities will start vegetable gardens that they will use for their own consumption to nourish their families. there are very few things basic to human survival and flourishment and one of those is a healthy diet.

"small is beautiful"...

i really like the peace corps approach to agriculture. we are not throwing a bunch of money at a problem. in fact we´re not throwing any money at it (save the living allowance allotted to volunteers). the thought is that if people are made responsible to contributetheir own funds into a project they will be personally invested in its success creating a culture of sustainability.

we are not trying to bring high tech machinery or techniques to people here. we are sticking to the basics and serious amounts of morale - "!si, se puede!". the theory is education in basic gardening and help in fine tuning some of the gardening techniques. maybe they´ve never grown beets before, so maybe we start growing it with families in the area, and maybe we provide a couple of cooking classes so they know how to make a quality beet salad.

this is not to say that the work here will be easy or that the results will be in any way small. at this point i am slightly petrified. intellectually i understand the assignment, but the "how" still looms large in my mind.

mi casa es su casa (or something like that)...

for the first three months as trainees all of us have been given a host family and community. each town has about four volunteers and then all of the volunteers get together once a week for group sessions on medical (i.e. shots and shittting), safety, and culture.

for now i am living in a small community with three other volunteers. doña marta is my new mama and takes good care of me. she is for sure the matron of the family and there is always a plethora of family members passing in and out throughout the course of the day.

the family is nothing short of amazing. doña aura and marta make tortillas two times every day and sell them. the family has chickens (44 now with our new chickies), rabbits, geese, parakeets, doves, and one parrot with its tail burnt off. i have much to learn and they are my new professors. twice a week we get large shipments of peas that we shuck and sell in the market in antigua. ive earned the nickname "la maquina" (the machine) for my speedy pea shucking skills.
i love my family because they now how to sit and enjoy the passing of moments. life drips down slow and sweet like honey here. they like to laugh often at my expense and luckily i take it well silly gringa that i am.

my new best friend is the five year-old granddaughter of doña marta. millie is an expert on flowers and we hang out playing ocho loco, coloring, and having dance parties. Luced, another granddaughter helps out in the garden, and Lucia the oldest i consider to be my cultural informant. although she is only fourteen i often feel she is my peer. she has an amazing sense of maturity which i have found to be uncommon here. i probably have more in common with her than many twenty four-year-old women living in the community. i am not married and do not have children. understandably, i am at times a bit of a conundrum for people here.

hello my name is kelly...

as united state-ians (because here we are all americans) we tend to fiercely defend our personal independence. we see it as the reasons for our successes and our failures as the result of being too dependent on others. here it is more common for people to see themselves as a member of a family and a community. people do not introduce themself as "hello, my name is Marcos". rather it is "hello my name is Marcos Zamora-Acula of San Marcos". people recognize the family lineage both on their mother and fathers side as well as their home town.

for now i am enjoying just becoming acquainted with my new home. it is immensely welcoming and everyday i feel blessed. everyday my emotions run a spectrum from pure elation, to missing friends, family, and waves back home, to stress over an unknown site assignment. i take most of it in stride and try to inhale as much of the newness as i can. i am lucky to have a great support network back home. please feel free to post updates from back home or questions on this blog.