That's where I work. Sometimes it's above the clouds. Beautiful.
Sometimes I think 'I live in Guatemala' and just let myself reflect on that strange, sentimental knowledge. And even then it sounds as profound to me as it does to you. Not at all.
I've been here for enough time to grow another human being inside my body, and I'm not always sure what I have to show for it. And I think again and realize that in a culture that's so based in production and efficiency (the US of A), we sometimes forget the most essential parts of progress.
I've noticed that the volunteers that are the smartest, most outgoing, and best at Spanish aren't always the most effective and efficient volunteers.
One of my best friends came to Guatemala with the lowest level of Spanish in our entire training group. At first I thought she was shy, but she's really a ball of fire. Chatty as hell and quick as a whip. She is one of the most observant, empathetic, courageous people I know in this country. Sometimes she rags on herself like we all do about thinking we haven't accomplished enough. But this girl has developed stronger friendships with her host family, her host country national counterparts, and other volunteers than anyone. She is my rock and enables me to stay here even when I want to jump off a cliff because I haven't been able to cook in my house for the last week because of a gas leak. Her service is already a successful one because she is able to accomplish so much with the insane humanity she brings to her work and her life here.
As for me, I think I've already become more humble, less of a know-it-all, more organized and a better team player. Not to mention more observant of other people's feelings, more patient, more generous, and more forgiving. All of these small accomplishments make me extremely proud. Coming to Peace Corps I didn't know what a reasonable goal would be in terms of quantifiable accomplishments in my service (and to a certain extent I still don't), but I did know that I wanted to grow up a little and be a much stronger, more resilient, more patient version of myself when I returned.
I also think I underestimated the importance of understanding learning as accomplishment. The country director visited my site last week, and realized how much I still have left to learn about Guatemala and the complexity of global development problems. But at the same time, I also realized that I understand some elements of life in rural Guatemala that even he had not yet discovered.
We each so intimately know the one piece of land we're given to serve with all its beauty and flaws. We're the only foreign development professionals who know which community leader to talk with about a wastewater drain project and which mayor would be most likely to round up the others to collaborate in the coordination of a local health commission.
Of course, ultimately, the intimate elements of life here in Guatemala are known best to the people who grew up in the aldea of San Whatever with only 2067 people, but as a Peace Corps Volunteer here, I'm learning when, how and whom to ask and more importantly how to listen--not just to what someone says, but also to what they don't want to say, what they'll refuse to do, and what their unspoken concerns are.
I've been having a hard week with Peace Corps. Mostly because the rules that limit our mobility within the country have made me feel limited in terms of the Guatemalan friends I can make and hold close. But at the same time, I'm in the best place I've been emotionally with my work, my fellow PCVs, my Guatemalan coworkers, and this lovely, dusty, green country that I'm lucky to call home for the next few years.
Sometimes I think 'I live in Guatemala' and just let myself reflect on that strange, sentimental knowledge. And even then it sounds as profound to me as it does to you. Not at all.
I've been here for enough time to grow another human being inside my body, and I'm not always sure what I have to show for it. And I think again and realize that in a culture that's so based in production and efficiency (the US of A), we sometimes forget the most essential parts of progress.
I've noticed that the volunteers that are the smartest, most outgoing, and best at Spanish aren't always the most effective and efficient volunteers.
One of my best friends came to Guatemala with the lowest level of Spanish in our entire training group. At first I thought she was shy, but she's really a ball of fire. Chatty as hell and quick as a whip. She is one of the most observant, empathetic, courageous people I know in this country. Sometimes she rags on herself like we all do about thinking we haven't accomplished enough. But this girl has developed stronger friendships with her host family, her host country national counterparts, and other volunteers than anyone. She is my rock and enables me to stay here even when I want to jump off a cliff because I haven't been able to cook in my house for the last week because of a gas leak. Her service is already a successful one because she is able to accomplish so much with the insane humanity she brings to her work and her life here.
As for me, I think I've already become more humble, less of a know-it-all, more organized and a better team player. Not to mention more observant of other people's feelings, more patient, more generous, and more forgiving. All of these small accomplishments make me extremely proud. Coming to Peace Corps I didn't know what a reasonable goal would be in terms of quantifiable accomplishments in my service (and to a certain extent I still don't), but I did know that I wanted to grow up a little and be a much stronger, more resilient, more patient version of myself when I returned.
I also think I underestimated the importance of understanding learning as accomplishment. The country director visited my site last week, and realized how much I still have left to learn about Guatemala and the complexity of global development problems. But at the same time, I also realized that I understand some elements of life in rural Guatemala that even he had not yet discovered.
We each so intimately know the one piece of land we're given to serve with all its beauty and flaws. We're the only foreign development professionals who know which community leader to talk with about a wastewater drain project and which mayor would be most likely to round up the others to collaborate in the coordination of a local health commission.
Of course, ultimately, the intimate elements of life here in Guatemala are known best to the people who grew up in the aldea of San Whatever with only 2067 people, but as a Peace Corps Volunteer here, I'm learning when, how and whom to ask and more importantly how to listen--not just to what someone says, but also to what they don't want to say, what they'll refuse to do, and what their unspoken concerns are.
I've been having a hard week with Peace Corps. Mostly because the rules that limit our mobility within the country have made me feel limited in terms of the Guatemalan friends I can make and hold close. But at the same time, I'm in the best place I've been emotionally with my work, my fellow PCVs, my Guatemalan coworkers, and this lovely, dusty, green country that I'm lucky to call home for the next few years.
RSS Feed