So first of all I love you all. And I'm sorry I've been terrible at blogging.

Recently overheard by my friend Skyping her sister which pretty much sums up my life right now:

"Oh you're going there for dinner? I'm jealous I'm gonna have eggs and beans for dinner. Like every night." (Friend)

"Want me to eat a salad for you?" (Sister)

"Eat a salad. Take a hot shower. Flush your toilet paper. Anything else?" (Friend)

Standard.

Anyway, updates.

It's getting pretty real. There's now officially Guate inside jokes. I'll do a thing about them. Just give me a few days to collect them all. I also still owe you all a Pepian recipe, which is pretty delicious, so don't let me forget.

FIELD BASED TRAINING
We just went for a week out to the campo to see the sites we might be placed in. We met the administrative staff from the Area de Salud (The Health Department Headquarters) for the entire departments (Guate equivalent of states) of Quetzaltenago  and Totonicapan. Gotta say that made me feel really legit.

Then we went and stayed with a volunteer for the weekend. Mine, Megan, is the greatest human being ever. She made me feel so welcomed and helped me just decompress all of the experiences I've had so far and made the whole thing just so much fun. Besides, we made banana oatmeal chocolate chip peanut butter pancakes. We're destined to be friends.

Her ish wasn't as scary as I thought it would be. She had her own bathroom with a toilet, electricity, a kitchen (no fridge), and a beautiful market. 

Weird things that happened
*We saw a car go off a cliff. Or, rather a gathering of people after it happened.
*7 of the 9 of us got some kind of weird intestinal thing. It was bad. Then we went back to the same restaurant.

Yeah, I'll come up with more funny stuff but I gots to GOOO. Love you!!!

We climbed this active volcano this weekend. I know I said it would be words, but I don't feel like writing, so here are some pics:

This weekend we had the incredible opportunity to be a part of a Mayan ceremony with a Kaqchikel priestess. She was saying a prayer for the voluntarios de Cuerpo de Paz that we have health and success in our assignments.

We met at the ruins of the Ancient Kaqchikel capital city of Iximche. The city was overtaken by the Spaniards who made their first capital of Tecpan, which is still a city and famous for smoked sausages (which are delicious, btw but I digress).

The day was chosen as July 13, because according to Mayan tradition, the 13th day is the most powerful day to speak to the spirits. The Mayan religion is one that’s much more spiritual and cyclical than my own upbringing, and it echoes this beautiful universal oneness. Everything for them is about balance and oneness. In addition to the 20 spirits—of air, earth, sky, femininity, health, etc.—the Mayan religion trusts in the four corners of the universe (the cardinal directions) and the 3 tiempos (past, present, and future) to give balance and wholeness to life. For them, the number zero, sometimes represented as a pine cone (other times as a conch shell), does not represent nothing. Instead, just as the pine cone could produce 20 trees, zero represents the potential of everything.

The ceremony itself is a prayer around a fire which burns several key ingredients: sugar, chocolate, tobacco, candles, and many other elements, each of which has a symbolic significance. For example, the sugar is to give life sweetness. The fire itself allows them more closely to connect to the spirits.

Every person, according to their birth date is given a sacred symbol or nahual that corresponds to a particular spirit. Each nahual has an animal or figure associated with it and a direction with which it centers its energy. Mine is B’atz’—which of course is the monkey. (Batz is the creator of life and wisdom. It is associated with intelligence and the arts. It can free an individual from problems burdening him/her.)

As we stood around the fire, the priestess called our nahuales one by one and we gave an offering of candles and incense coins to the flames. The overwhelming tones of the entire prayer were collectiveness and gratitude. It was an absolutely fabulous way to feel welcomed and accepted by a community which I will admit I’m only now just learning more about. 

This is actually a few weeks old, but it somehow didn't make it up. Apologies.

A Day Off

These last two weeks, as amazing and exciting as they have been, have also been psycho-busy and pretty stressful. We have training 6 days a week. This, together with speaking only Spanish the majority of the time, has been exhausting.

Instead of having formal class today, we went to a Coffee Plantation turned museum. We got to learn how they make coffee. If you’re interested, let me know and I’ll post an entry about that. It’s probably going to have some economics/global capitalism in it, but hey.

Then we were released for the afternoon. We got to have lunch in Antigua, which is beautiful by the way. I’ll post pictures once I’m comfortable enough to actually take my camera out there. Guatemala has some pretty skilled ladrones with some swift hands.

I had exactly one beer, and my McCalley bones are ashamed to admit it, but the combination of altitude, dehydration, empty stomach, and the last few weeks let that one beer get to me a little.

I have never seen a group of adults more happy to be together and just feel free. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving learning so much about our project and the challenge of speaking Spanish. It was so nice not to have any obligations, even if only for a few hours.

I was supposed to run a 12 K on Sunday. And I would have too. I’m a runner now or something. But I didn’t. Guess why.

Worms.

Round worms.

Ascaris lumbricoides to be more specific, see here.

I will forever maintain the title of the first in the group to get an intestinal parasite.

No street food, ladies and gentlemen.

The next day, we got this email:

Dear PCVs:

Please remember that stool samples must be turn in to the lab in an appropriate container.  The lab in Guatemala City, Antigua and Xela can provide you with specimen cups or you can pick them up at the Medical Office in SLMA or in Xela.

The lab won’t accept samples in carton/plastic cups without a top or in plastic bags.

Thank you,

 
First of all, I swear that wasn't me. Second of all, Literally, what were you thinking?

Anyway, here are some pictures of the people who weren't plagued by street food and actually got to run the race. Ciudad Vieja, August 11 here I come.

Les presento a…

Wait. First of all, wow. I started writing this entry in Spanish (the “les present a” I meant. But then I somehow forgot to switch back.) Anyway, les presento a…

Cristi –my host mom! She’s the best. She’s a stay at home mom, which you’d kind of have to be with 4 boys under the age of six. She’s really laid back and loves to talk about everything and puts up with my incessant questions about Guatemalan culture and the health care system here. She also makes these delicious foods called envueltos, which are kind of like chiles rellenos, but they’re not chiles and they’re not rellenos. But they are delicious. And I get to eat them tomorrow. She’s only 28, so we’ve got a lot to talk about. She’s let me cook in her kitchen and is all about letting my friends come over. She also took really awesome care of me when I got the stomach ickies (see Carrera entry). Lots of boiled plátanos. But it helped.

Geovanny—my host papa! He’s pretty great as well. Awesome, vibrant sense of humor that transcends language. We joked last week that there are two babies (the twins) and una bebota (big baby) in the house—because all I could eat was baby food! Whenever we talk about doing yoga, he always says that I need more paaaaaaaaaaz interioooooooor (inner peace)—which is probably true. He’s a big jokester, which makes anyone feel welcome.

Erick—He’s the oldest. He just turned 6. Also he lost a tooth the other day and the raton (yes, Sarah, it’s a rat instead of the tooth fairy here) visited him and gave 5 Quetzales—a mighty fine prize for a lost tooth if you ask me. He’s got a great laugh and always wants to play games. One of his new favorites is bolsa de patatas (Dad, I’m sure you know this one by its English name “sack of potatoes.” Yes. I brought it to Guatemala). He’s just getting a bit heavy for it.

Rodrigo—He’s 4. He’s definitely got middle child syndrome—and I would be one to know. When you get him in a good mood, he’s so much fun! He loves to laugh and be tickled. But (mostly adorably), he just still wants to be the baby of the family.

The TWINS!!! –Oh they’re my favorite they’re so cute

Jeffrey—by far the smaller twin is really clingy to his mama in the most adorable way. He’s starting to get enough teeth to have the most amazing baby smile. He’s starting to talk a little faster than his brother, saying things like grasha (gracias) and eta (either Aqui esta! [Here it is!] or Yo quiero esto [I want this], depending on the context. He always wants to be looking out the window at what’s going on in la calle.

Eduardo—If I had to pick favorites, (which I do), I would pick him. He’s got the best silly smile and laugh. He’s such an active little guy, always getting into trouble by climbing on the table and escaping out the door. He’s always falling down, but he’s the least chillón (crybaby) of them all.

Other Important Family Members of Note:

Doña Ana—She’s the abuelita who lives downstairs, Geovanny’s mom. She’s the sweetest lady ever. She helped me learn how to tortillar, and she’s so supportive. She wants to teach me to make popusas (El Salvadoran stuffed tortillas) and dobladas (kind of like quesadillas). She enjoys everything and shares more.

Daniel—He’s the son of Geovanny’s sister, but she’s away in Honduras much of the time, so he stays with Doña Ana. He’s adorable in that 8 year old kind of way. He only gets into trouble by accident, and he’s always trying to find where the boundaries are, especially with my stuff. He’s a very sweet kid and loves being part of this family.

You know you’re in Peace Corps when…

…all you know how to talk about is poop.

You might have heard that before.  Well, I can tell you right now it’s true. It’s been less than 3 weeks, and I’ve gotten more detail from some of my friends than I can even share…

So I’ve told you there are 4 little boys in my host family. All of them are under the age of 6. This is how we ride in the car together… It’s a two-door sedan, by the way. The host mother and father sit in the front, I sit in the back with the two older boys. Neither of them really sits or fastens his seat belt. One’s standing up by the center console. The youngest two (the twins, who are 15 months old) are standing up, leaning against the window, practically crawling on the dash board, and being passed back and forth between the front and back seats.

So, what happens if there’s an accident, you ask.

So. Here’s what happens in an accident: There’s universal health in Guatemala, but it’s decidedly awful due mostly to lack of funding. If you get seriously injured, you’d go to the nearest hospital—volunteer firemen will give you a lift--but only if you pay for gas up front. Once you make it to the hospital in Antigua, they might decide they can’t solve your issue and they might send you in an ambulance to Guatemala City, where the best hospitals are. By now, you’ve wasted at least an hour of time that could be critical.

There’s a saying here--Si Dios Quiere—which is something akin to that of Inshallah in Arabic. Both translate to “if it is the will of God.” They’re used basically in the same way—to respond promises made about the future. The intention is to say that whatever is being discussed will only happen if God wants it to.

Here, this mentality that the future is in God’s hands implies that there is no agency for the individual. And this can translate into a culture that does not make decisions for the future.

There is no insurance here to speak of. Hardly anyone has car insurance. Homeowner’s insurance basically doesn’t exist. And, for a country that has over 200 disasters a year, this one does not prepare well in advance of hurricanes, mudslides, floods, earthquakes, etc.

Hurricane Stan left over 2 million people without homes in 2006. My maestra told us that many people stayed in their homes when the hurricane was approaching because if it was God’s will that their house stayed, they would stay. If it was God’s will that they died in the storm, they would die. The idea of escaping the storm was effectively interfering with God’s will.

The reason I’m pointing this out is because of the way it translates to our project. We’re advocating maternal preventative health, and this mentality might have ramifications there. My jefe described that, in his time as a Volunteer here, many people did not want to mitigate the risk or potential consequences of certain health decisions, because if God wanted them to live they would, and if God wanted them to die, likewise.

This is probably going to be an ongoing entry.

I’m not totally good for dates on this, so I apologize. The main time frame is the 1970s-1996. Please feel free to look up the details of this.

I knew a little about what Wikipedia calls Guatemala’s “Civil War” before I came here, but it’s a really whole hell of a lot more complicated than what I found. Here, they call it the “Conflicto Armado,” which I’m sure you can guess means Armed Conflict. Not a war, just a conflict.

One of the ex-president’s during the period of the conflict was just convicted of genocide within the last few months. His guilt on that charge is still under debate.

But let me start at the beginning as far as I know it. In the 1970s, Groups of indigenous men, in an attempt to gain rights for their discriminated indigenous communities, became guerilla fighters. Some of these guerrilleros took tactics to a level of violence that did not distinguish between civilian and soldier.

The army, likewise, used similar tactics. When they went into a village in search of a guerrillero, they did not just find and arrest the guerrillero they were looking for. The record of massacres of families and some villages well-attributed to the army during this period implies much harsher tactics; the army killed men, women, and children alike in search of the guerrilleros.

Here’s where it gets a little tricky. A friend of mine—an indigenous Guatemalan woman, whose grandfather, uncle, and brother were all killed in the 1992—said that the indigenous people who were targeted were all involved with the guerrilleros, whether they participated in the conflict or not. I don’t think she meant to justify the excessive use of violence by the military, but I did find it strange that she thought that social or familiar connection to a person implied involvement in his military tactics.

Another person said that because there were other villages targeted and not just indigenous populations—(nor one indigenous population in particular)—that this conflict was not a genocide or ethnic cleansing. She herself had friends of highborn, non-indigenous families who joined the guerilla cause. They died alongside the other guerrilleros. Non-indigenous villages also suffered massacres.

Genocide or not, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the use of violence on both sides of this conflict and its ramifications on the violence, discrimination of indigenous populations, economic distress, and political turmoil that exists today in Guatemala.