Instead of spending most of my day in the office, I was fortunate enough today to plant seeds!! As a muni volunteer, I don't really get the chance to go out and get my hands dirty very often (very different from what I was originally imagining when I had signed up for the Peace Corps) so it was an extra special treat going to plant some veggies. Apparently there's a small vivero or greenery right next to the municipality where we keep baby trees and other random things for the community. Since it's muni property, they let us plant our seeds and try out a tire gardens. The tire gardens were a bit of a flop, after searching around for a machete we only ended up with a dull blade and no fire to heat it up with. After a couple attempts to make an incision we decided to just leave the tire as is and fill it with dirt (and a layer of nylon with holes poked in it)...same thing mas o menos right?
Anyway, I wanted to jot down what I learned:
1. Spinach and radish seeds look a lot alike (guess I should mention that none of the seeds are labeled)
2. The following seeds have to be laid out using what I gathered was the "chorro" method or sprinkling - so you sprinkle the seeds and then lightly put dirt on top sifting with your hands: carrots, onions, and pretty much any other seed that is tiny
3. Other seeds have to be planted two by two about a fist or hand width apart
4. Cucumber and guicoy (pumpkin or squash type seed) has to be planted two by two in individual holes that are a forearm width apart
5. Leaving seeds in little baggies makes them go bad, store them in paper pouches instead
6. Gallina ciegas are bad for seeds - some ugly looking grub thing
7. Putting pine needles over the seeds helps prevent birds from eating them, once the plant has sprouted you remove the pine needles
8. You can grow mushrooms in a humid bag in a dark location
9. If a crop of corn is used to chemical pesticides, it won't take well to suddenly being organic, so you can try to slowly reduce the ratio of organic to inorganic pesticides until it's 100% organic
10. Farmers have to pay a shitload of money to be certified organic so lots of farmers don't certify even if they are organic b/c they can't afford it
11. In 22 days the radishes will be ready to eat
12. In three months the carrots will be ready to eat
13. Always carry a sharpened machete
That's all I got! Clearly I'm a novice at this gardening/planting thing, I never really took interest in it when I lived in the States because apartment living isn't too conducive to planting, but I'm going to be super stoked to eat a salad that my counterparts and I grew!!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
My Life a Year Ago - Pre-Peace Corps
It's crazy to think that a year ago I just accepted my Peace Corps invitation. One year ago, I was sitting in my comfortable living room in my unnecessarily nice apartment trying to figure out if I wanted to stay comfortable or explore the unknown.
I guess I'll start with a little background. Around the time that my invitation was supposed to be sent, I really didn't think I was going to join the Peace Corps. I wasn't like other soon to be volunteers that anxiously awaited their invitation. I had started applying for other jobs, thinking about going back to school, looking at Peace Corps alternatives. Hell, I bought a new car a month before I got my invite!! I really didn't think I was leaving. But it's funny what happens when you just kind of let things fall into place.
The other night I was looking back at old journal entries. I was ripe for change but was too scared to do something about it. I longed for a life that felt meaningful, challenging, and more than anything I was incredibly eager to learn again! Fear of the unknown impeded my progress. It's one thing to talk about change, it's quite another to take that step.
There were a couple of influential pieces of advice that I thought I'd share in case there are other people in the decision phase that are trying to figure out what to do. What stands out the most is what a former professor told me: I was a little nervous about living in a small rural town and my professor simply told me that it was because I was scared that I had to go experience it. Looking back, it's incredibly humorous that I was worried about living in rural Guatemala. Small town living here is absolutely wonderful and even by just visiting some other PCVs who have larger towns (10,000+) it's overwhelming! I wouldn't want my service to be somewhere that big. Another piece of advice came from an RPCV referring to the time commitment. He assured me that nothing was going to change, I won't miss that much, and when you view life on a longer term spectrum, two years is a blink of an eye, but the impact it will make is remarkable. And finally, after telling everyone that I decided to join, a woman who has always given me advice said "you're doing what I wish I had done".
I know now that I'm where I'm supposed to be and the feeling is incredible. Sure I have my days, hell, this Monday I was pretty down in the dumps, but if I compare how I felt a year ago with how I feel now - my life is much more satisfying now. Sure, a year ago I had friends, family, nightlife, pretty much anything I wanted at my fingertips but I felt trapped and under utilized. Here, I make a lot more material and comfort sacrifices but it's rare for me to wake up and not want to go to work. Even if I'm not productive, I enjoy spending time with my co-workers or my host family or my sitemate.
So if you're thinking about the Peace Corps...JUST DO IT! I'm so glad that in a year and a half I can say "I did the Peace Corps! It's a trip!" instead of "Oh yea, I've always wanted to do the Peace Corps"
I guess I'll start with a little background. Around the time that my invitation was supposed to be sent, I really didn't think I was going to join the Peace Corps. I wasn't like other soon to be volunteers that anxiously awaited their invitation. I had started applying for other jobs, thinking about going back to school, looking at Peace Corps alternatives. Hell, I bought a new car a month before I got my invite!! I really didn't think I was leaving. But it's funny what happens when you just kind of let things fall into place.
The other night I was looking back at old journal entries. I was ripe for change but was too scared to do something about it. I longed for a life that felt meaningful, challenging, and more than anything I was incredibly eager to learn again! Fear of the unknown impeded my progress. It's one thing to talk about change, it's quite another to take that step.
There were a couple of influential pieces of advice that I thought I'd share in case there are other people in the decision phase that are trying to figure out what to do. What stands out the most is what a former professor told me: I was a little nervous about living in a small rural town and my professor simply told me that it was because I was scared that I had to go experience it. Looking back, it's incredibly humorous that I was worried about living in rural Guatemala. Small town living here is absolutely wonderful and even by just visiting some other PCVs who have larger towns (10,000+) it's overwhelming! I wouldn't want my service to be somewhere that big. Another piece of advice came from an RPCV referring to the time commitment. He assured me that nothing was going to change, I won't miss that much, and when you view life on a longer term spectrum, two years is a blink of an eye, but the impact it will make is remarkable. And finally, after telling everyone that I decided to join, a woman who has always given me advice said "you're doing what I wish I had done".
I know now that I'm where I'm supposed to be and the feeling is incredible. Sure I have my days, hell, this Monday I was pretty down in the dumps, but if I compare how I felt a year ago with how I feel now - my life is much more satisfying now. Sure, a year ago I had friends, family, nightlife, pretty much anything I wanted at my fingertips but I felt trapped and under utilized. Here, I make a lot more material and comfort sacrifices but it's rare for me to wake up and not want to go to work. Even if I'm not productive, I enjoy spending time with my co-workers or my host family or my sitemate.
So if you're thinking about the Peace Corps...JUST DO IT! I'm so glad that in a year and a half I can say "I did the Peace Corps! It's a trip!" instead of "Oh yea, I've always wanted to do the Peace Corps"
Monday, April 18, 2011
Guatemala City
This Friday I had the opportunity to venture out to the largest city in Central America: Guatemala City. So a little background, Cementos Progresso is a huge company here (if I remember correctly from my Peace Corps Spanish/cultural classes, it’s owned by one of the 10 wealthiest families in this country) and they have been gracious enough to donate 200 bags of cement for the Mayan Educational Center. So, in order to discuss this exchange of cement, Cementos asked me to pay them a visit at their central office in Guatemala City. So my indigenous counterpart and I headed off to the big city! We woke up at five in the morning for the five-hour drive (it would have been even longer if we had taken a chicken bus but fortunately we went in the muni car).
There were a couple small but notable cultural differences that struck me and wanted to share. The first is how incredible the disparity is between rich and poor. On a daily basis, I interact with people who are struggling to make ends meat and then I’m standing in this enormous city with designer stores, huge malls, and luxury cars driving everywhere. It’s crazy! It’s so easy for us Peace Corps volunteers to think of Guatemala as a poor country, which it is, but because we’re not exposed to wealth we forget that people live just like people in the United States. But that’s not even what struck me very much because I already had an idea of that due to classmates and friends who studied in the States and are from Guatemala. What stood out were the reactions of my counterpart, Juana, who is indigenous.
I came to find out that Juana spent seven years of her life working in Guatemala City for a clothing factory. She told me stories of how she went from being part of an industry sewing line to being an inspector. The clothes would get sent in big shipment to the States and if the shipment was rejected for imperfections, no one would get paid. Her normal working hours were 7am to 7pm and there were many times when she worked for 24 hours straight. And these overtime hours weren’t announced in advance but were announced on a loud speaker at the last minute while you’re fantasizing about getting off your feet and going home. I didn’t even want to ask what the pay was, although looking back I should have. She eventually ended up going back to Canillá because her mom demanded that she return home, I’m sure there’s more to that story but I didn’t pry. It was weird to picture the person that I work with on a daily basis, who isn’t that much older than I am, as someone who puts together garments that I’ve found in the States with the label “made in Guatemala”.
Another interesting encounter was when we went to the mall. We were walking around and I had to go to the bathroom so we entered the mall. Juana quickly told me there aren’t any bathrooms in there which I knew was wrong because of our PC Guate visit. So I rushed to the escalator and Juana starts freaking out a bit. “Oh, I can’t go up those things.” Seven years living in the city and you’re afraid of escalators!? Very interesting. I assured her it would be okay but she looked pretty mortified so I told her to wait there and I would be right back. Then when we arrived at the Cementos Office, we had to go to the 12th floor which meant we had to go on the elevator. Once again, with a look of horror she asked if we had to go on those things. I smiled and told her unless she wanted to walk up twelve flights of stairs; we were going on the elevator. Luckily, her hatred for walking outweighed her fear of elevators. While we were waiting for our appointment I told her that in Disney World there’s this ride I went on where you get in an elevator and go up super high and it just drops you. “Santo Dios” (Oh my God) she replied.
So that’s about it, nothing too earth shattering but it made me pause to reflect.
There were a couple small but notable cultural differences that struck me and wanted to share. The first is how incredible the disparity is between rich and poor. On a daily basis, I interact with people who are struggling to make ends meat and then I’m standing in this enormous city with designer stores, huge malls, and luxury cars driving everywhere. It’s crazy! It’s so easy for us Peace Corps volunteers to think of Guatemala as a poor country, which it is, but because we’re not exposed to wealth we forget that people live just like people in the United States. But that’s not even what struck me very much because I already had an idea of that due to classmates and friends who studied in the States and are from Guatemala. What stood out were the reactions of my counterpart, Juana, who is indigenous.
I came to find out that Juana spent seven years of her life working in Guatemala City for a clothing factory. She told me stories of how she went from being part of an industry sewing line to being an inspector. The clothes would get sent in big shipment to the States and if the shipment was rejected for imperfections, no one would get paid. Her normal working hours were 7am to 7pm and there were many times when she worked for 24 hours straight. And these overtime hours weren’t announced in advance but were announced on a loud speaker at the last minute while you’re fantasizing about getting off your feet and going home. I didn’t even want to ask what the pay was, although looking back I should have. She eventually ended up going back to Canillá because her mom demanded that she return home, I’m sure there’s more to that story but I didn’t pry. It was weird to picture the person that I work with on a daily basis, who isn’t that much older than I am, as someone who puts together garments that I’ve found in the States with the label “made in Guatemala”.
Another interesting encounter was when we went to the mall. We were walking around and I had to go to the bathroom so we entered the mall. Juana quickly told me there aren’t any bathrooms in there which I knew was wrong because of our PC Guate visit. So I rushed to the escalator and Juana starts freaking out a bit. “Oh, I can’t go up those things.” Seven years living in the city and you’re afraid of escalators!? Very interesting. I assured her it would be okay but she looked pretty mortified so I told her to wait there and I would be right back. Then when we arrived at the Cementos Office, we had to go to the 12th floor which meant we had to go on the elevator. Once again, with a look of horror she asked if we had to go on those things. I smiled and told her unless she wanted to walk up twelve flights of stairs; we were going on the elevator. Luckily, her hatred for walking outweighed her fear of elevators. While we were waiting for our appointment I told her that in Disney World there’s this ride I went on where you get in an elevator and go up super high and it just drops you. “Santo Dios” (Oh my God) she replied.
So that’s about it, nothing too earth shattering but it made me pause to reflect.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Currently my counterparts and I are working on a pretty amazing project (if I do say so myself!) that focuses on two main objectives: empowering the indigenous community in Canilla and tackling trash management. Watch this video to check out the details and I hope that you can help us make this project a reality with a donation.
Go to www.globalcfc.org/projects.html for information on how to donate!
paz y amor
Carolina
Measuring the immeasurable
This past week Peace Corps volunteers from all around the country are filling out their VRFs. Essentially, the VRF is a way to quantify the work that we do as Peace Corps volunteers. As with any job, you need to be held to standards and you need to prove your work, especially when you’re being funded by government tax dollars. But what’s been difficult for me to grasp is how to quantify development work. It’s an age old question and certainly not one that I’m going to solve. But the bigger issue here is whether or not I want to spend the rest of my life trying to prove value.
The people I work with are “pilas” basically on the ball. They’re very driven, busy, motivated and I believe that they truly care about the work that they do and doing it well. So then clearly I’m not going to be going around the office giving workshops on how to help empower women when they know better than I do. I’m a fan of subtleties. I enjoy leading by example in a quiet and humble manner. I think it’s catching on as well. But how do you measure that? How do I say, the fact that I’m always talking about water and exercise has caused my co-workers to drink more water? Or that my counterpart now goes running in the morning. I didn’t give a taller (workshop) about running. It just catches on. I can’t put in my VRF that every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon I go with my other counterpart to her K’iche’ lessons and essentially serve as a teacher’s assistant. Is that helping my community necessarily? No. But the ladinos are certainly interested as to why this American actually cares enough about K’iche’ to go to these classes.
On the other hand, you have these large institutions that are in the business of development. They’ve got metrics and deliverables…but what does that really mean? How does one measure impact. Furthermore, how does one measure long term impact? To measure means that the impact has to be quantifiable, it has to be tangible. How can you measure morale? How can you measure confidence? How can you measure pride?
As I’m sure all of you know by now, I’ve become incredibly interested in the Mayan population. The culture is fascinating to me and I’ve always been drawn to issues concerning race. Here, the culture that differentiates Guatemala from other Central American countries and what really draws tourism is the Mayan culture; yet, most people find the Mayan population to be slow, backward, and worthless. This culture created some of the fundamental principles of society! And they’re slow? Perhaps it is difficult for them to grasp modern technology…but it would be for anyone that spends the majority of their time still doing manual labor and without access to education, health services, and technology. I ran into this guy on my way to Nebaj (a region in Northern Quiché) who said “it’s great that our ancestors didn’t write anything down; imagine what would have been stolen from us.” I never thought of it like that. There must be an incredible amount of knowledge within the Mayan population (especially among the elders) that is in threat of being completely wiped out. So what do they do? Continue to preserve their oral traditions that could diminish completely due to modernization or encourage to take the oral into written form? Something to definitely keep in mind.
But I digress. The point is the Mayan population. So I’ve done a handful of talleres with the Mayan Council but I really feel as though my impact is my presence and my continued interest in wanting to learn about their culture, customs and giving value to what they do and how they serve the community. How can I put that in a VRF? My counterpart thanked me the other day for taking the time to be with them for pushing them to become better. I wasn’t exactly sure how I did that, I’m usually sitting in a room while they all speak K’iche’ and I try to follow along with the splash of Spanish they throw in. But if that’s what it takes for a group of people to feel valued, wonderful!
I know there’s no way to fix how I have to measure my service, it has to happen. I just wish there was a way to communicate the intangible, the immeasurable, the aspects of service that truly make this rollercoaster ride of emotions, ideas, experiences worthwhile and meaningful. The reason why I decided to dedicate two years of my life to the Peace Corps.
The people I work with are “pilas” basically on the ball. They’re very driven, busy, motivated and I believe that they truly care about the work that they do and doing it well. So then clearly I’m not going to be going around the office giving workshops on how to help empower women when they know better than I do. I’m a fan of subtleties. I enjoy leading by example in a quiet and humble manner. I think it’s catching on as well. But how do you measure that? How do I say, the fact that I’m always talking about water and exercise has caused my co-workers to drink more water? Or that my counterpart now goes running in the morning. I didn’t give a taller (workshop) about running. It just catches on. I can’t put in my VRF that every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon I go with my other counterpart to her K’iche’ lessons and essentially serve as a teacher’s assistant. Is that helping my community necessarily? No. But the ladinos are certainly interested as to why this American actually cares enough about K’iche’ to go to these classes.
On the other hand, you have these large institutions that are in the business of development. They’ve got metrics and deliverables…but what does that really mean? How does one measure impact. Furthermore, how does one measure long term impact? To measure means that the impact has to be quantifiable, it has to be tangible. How can you measure morale? How can you measure confidence? How can you measure pride?
As I’m sure all of you know by now, I’ve become incredibly interested in the Mayan population. The culture is fascinating to me and I’ve always been drawn to issues concerning race. Here, the culture that differentiates Guatemala from other Central American countries and what really draws tourism is the Mayan culture; yet, most people find the Mayan population to be slow, backward, and worthless. This culture created some of the fundamental principles of society! And they’re slow? Perhaps it is difficult for them to grasp modern technology…but it would be for anyone that spends the majority of their time still doing manual labor and without access to education, health services, and technology. I ran into this guy on my way to Nebaj (a region in Northern Quiché) who said “it’s great that our ancestors didn’t write anything down; imagine what would have been stolen from us.” I never thought of it like that. There must be an incredible amount of knowledge within the Mayan population (especially among the elders) that is in threat of being completely wiped out. So what do they do? Continue to preserve their oral traditions that could diminish completely due to modernization or encourage to take the oral into written form? Something to definitely keep in mind.
But I digress. The point is the Mayan population. So I’ve done a handful of talleres with the Mayan Council but I really feel as though my impact is my presence and my continued interest in wanting to learn about their culture, customs and giving value to what they do and how they serve the community. How can I put that in a VRF? My counterpart thanked me the other day for taking the time to be with them for pushing them to become better. I wasn’t exactly sure how I did that, I’m usually sitting in a room while they all speak K’iche’ and I try to follow along with the splash of Spanish they throw in. But if that’s what it takes for a group of people to feel valued, wonderful!
I know there’s no way to fix how I have to measure my service, it has to happen. I just wish there was a way to communicate the intangible, the immeasurable, the aspects of service that truly make this rollercoaster ride of emotions, ideas, experiences worthwhile and meaningful. The reason why I decided to dedicate two years of my life to the Peace Corps.
Monday, March 7, 2011
The Vagina Monologues in Guatemala
I had never seen the vagina monologues before but it’s safe to say that I had a pretty good idea about what this type of “play” would consist of, thus, I immediately wanted to invite my counterparts along to expose them to such a taboo topic. First let's set the scene a bit about sex and women in Guatemala. I've gone to plenty of classrooms where young girls the age of 14 are bringing along their children, so clearly girls are having sex, but it is NOT discussed. Furthermore, I'd bet a hefty sum that the majority of Guatemalan women don't even enjoy sex and find it as a chore. To top it all off, the men here are completely machista, typically have more than one woman to sleep with and enforce very traditional gender roles.
So, a couple weeks ago, I found out that some Peace Corps volunteers were putting together a bilingual version of the Vagina Monologues complete with PCV actresses as well as Guatemalan actresses. I knew it was something I wanted to see but how awesome would it be to bring my counterparts! When would I have the opportunity to take women who probably have never talked about sex to people outside of their close circle of friends (if that) and live in an incredibly machista culture to a candid and somewhat flamboyant celebration of sexuality!? In addition, I feel myself constantly wanting to bring my counterparts to events or activities but because of a lack of money, it’s usually not even worth mentioning. For some reason on this particular day though, I figured it wouldn’t hurt just to mention how nice it would be if the mayor would drive us to Antigua to see a play focusing on women’s issues. She decided to ask and, to my surprise, the mayor said definitely, we’d make a day out of it. So it was a lady’s day out: me, my two counterparts, the mayor’s wife, and our muni driver (so he’s the oddball, a typical machista man with a wife and plenty of mistresses).
I found myself being nervous that entire day. First, I was sure that the mayor was going to cancel on us last minute because it’s Guatemala and it’s pretty rare that things go according to plan. But five-thirty rolled around and we were bumping around the twists and curves on the road to leave Canillá. Once arriving to Antigua, I learned a little bit about how my Guatemalan counterparts like to travel. In my head I’m thinking we can go site seeing, eat some new delish food, and completely expose them to this new culture that lies within their own country. Yea not so much. Turns out walking isn’t really on the list of things fun to do, even if it involves seeing ruins or beautiful churches. So we walk for a little bit, sit in the park for a while, buy scarves (the mayor’s wife bought me a pretty purple one which was very generous of her) and then get in the car to drive around Antigua (not the most car friendly place). For lunch we had the oh so exotic Pollo Campero (the equivalent of a KFC) and I of course giggled in my head for even thinking that we might try to eat at a good pizza place or pick up something completely new. Then at lunch I dropped the bomb. “So this play might be a little fuerte (strong) because it’s about women and sex and sexuality so yea just warning you ahead of time.” Immediately Mito (the muni driver) starts laughing and is like “Shit, I’m going to wake up tomorrow with a husband after this girl’s day out activities and this play”.
We walk over to the small but cute theater and I hand them their tickets. My nervousness is increasing, what if the play doesn’t include enough Spanish? What if they think this is wildly inappropriate? What if they want to walk out in the middle of the play? I hand them their tickets and I notice they’re pointing at the ticket and snickering to each other. “Que pasa?” (what’s up?) and my counterpart points to the word “Vagina” with a giggle and perplexed look on her face. “les dije” (I told you guys!) and I shrug my shoulders jokingly back at them. “Here goes nothing” I think to myself.
The volunteers did an amazing job putting together the play and it was a perfect blend of Spanish, English, laughter, seriousness and interesting facts (did you know the female clitoris has twice as many nerve endings as the entire male penis!? 8,000 vs. 4,000 for a man; did you also know that in January of 2011 a woman was raped every day that month in the department of Alta Verapaz? Heavy.) What was the best part of the entire day/event was the reaction of my counterparts. They seemed pumped, energized, totally on board with the fact that it is incredibly sad how women do not talk about their vaginas or their sex lives. They all also were like “Carolina, you totally didn’t mention what this play was about on purpose until right before hand huh? You’re sneaky!” to which I replied that there was a little bit of truth to that statement but I honestly thought if I had mentioned what the play was completely about, no one would have been interested. They definitely acknowledged that and also acknowledged the fact that never in their lives did they think they’d see a play about vaginas. Our muni driver didn’t involve himself in the conversation but during the play he laughed along with everyone else and he didn’t seem to have fallen asleep which means he was paying attention (and who knows perhaps it even made him think! Gasp! Perhaps for once he thought about his wife and pleasing her instead of just his, well, his “self”). We got in the car and discussed the possibility of starting our own girls groups to help empower young women before it’s too late, we made vagina jokes, we bonded. I feel like we achieved the goal of the Vagina Monologues…we talked about it! Even today (the day after) my counterparts are still discussing the play and how true it is that we don’t talk about sexuality. How awesome! In the afternoon we were celebrating a birthday at the muni and our mayor even joked about it, “why don’t you share what you two learned about yesterday?” he jokingly asked us.
In sum, I feel awesome to have been able to share this experience with the people I work with and see every day. I hope, even if it’s in a miniscule way, that my counterparts remember our day in Antigua and that it inspires them in some way; whether it’s being more open about their sexuality, being more open to participating in events about topics that may make them uncomfortable, or even if it’s just sharing the experience with other women.
So, a couple weeks ago, I found out that some Peace Corps volunteers were putting together a bilingual version of the Vagina Monologues complete with PCV actresses as well as Guatemalan actresses. I knew it was something I wanted to see but how awesome would it be to bring my counterparts! When would I have the opportunity to take women who probably have never talked about sex to people outside of their close circle of friends (if that) and live in an incredibly machista culture to a candid and somewhat flamboyant celebration of sexuality!? In addition, I feel myself constantly wanting to bring my counterparts to events or activities but because of a lack of money, it’s usually not even worth mentioning. For some reason on this particular day though, I figured it wouldn’t hurt just to mention how nice it would be if the mayor would drive us to Antigua to see a play focusing on women’s issues. She decided to ask and, to my surprise, the mayor said definitely, we’d make a day out of it. So it was a lady’s day out: me, my two counterparts, the mayor’s wife, and our muni driver (so he’s the oddball, a typical machista man with a wife and plenty of mistresses).
I found myself being nervous that entire day. First, I was sure that the mayor was going to cancel on us last minute because it’s Guatemala and it’s pretty rare that things go according to plan. But five-thirty rolled around and we were bumping around the twists and curves on the road to leave Canillá. Once arriving to Antigua, I learned a little bit about how my Guatemalan counterparts like to travel. In my head I’m thinking we can go site seeing, eat some new delish food, and completely expose them to this new culture that lies within their own country. Yea not so much. Turns out walking isn’t really on the list of things fun to do, even if it involves seeing ruins or beautiful churches. So we walk for a little bit, sit in the park for a while, buy scarves (the mayor’s wife bought me a pretty purple one which was very generous of her) and then get in the car to drive around Antigua (not the most car friendly place). For lunch we had the oh so exotic Pollo Campero (the equivalent of a KFC) and I of course giggled in my head for even thinking that we might try to eat at a good pizza place or pick up something completely new. Then at lunch I dropped the bomb. “So this play might be a little fuerte (strong) because it’s about women and sex and sexuality so yea just warning you ahead of time.” Immediately Mito (the muni driver) starts laughing and is like “Shit, I’m going to wake up tomorrow with a husband after this girl’s day out activities and this play”.
We walk over to the small but cute theater and I hand them their tickets. My nervousness is increasing, what if the play doesn’t include enough Spanish? What if they think this is wildly inappropriate? What if they want to walk out in the middle of the play? I hand them their tickets and I notice they’re pointing at the ticket and snickering to each other. “Que pasa?” (what’s up?) and my counterpart points to the word “Vagina” with a giggle and perplexed look on her face. “les dije” (I told you guys!) and I shrug my shoulders jokingly back at them. “Here goes nothing” I think to myself.
The volunteers did an amazing job putting together the play and it was a perfect blend of Spanish, English, laughter, seriousness and interesting facts (did you know the female clitoris has twice as many nerve endings as the entire male penis!? 8,000 vs. 4,000 for a man; did you also know that in January of 2011 a woman was raped every day that month in the department of Alta Verapaz? Heavy.) What was the best part of the entire day/event was the reaction of my counterparts. They seemed pumped, energized, totally on board with the fact that it is incredibly sad how women do not talk about their vaginas or their sex lives. They all also were like “Carolina, you totally didn’t mention what this play was about on purpose until right before hand huh? You’re sneaky!” to which I replied that there was a little bit of truth to that statement but I honestly thought if I had mentioned what the play was completely about, no one would have been interested. They definitely acknowledged that and also acknowledged the fact that never in their lives did they think they’d see a play about vaginas. Our muni driver didn’t involve himself in the conversation but during the play he laughed along with everyone else and he didn’t seem to have fallen asleep which means he was paying attention (and who knows perhaps it even made him think! Gasp! Perhaps for once he thought about his wife and pleasing her instead of just his, well, his “self”). We got in the car and discussed the possibility of starting our own girls groups to help empower young women before it’s too late, we made vagina jokes, we bonded. I feel like we achieved the goal of the Vagina Monologues…we talked about it! Even today (the day after) my counterparts are still discussing the play and how true it is that we don’t talk about sexuality. How awesome! In the afternoon we were celebrating a birthday at the muni and our mayor even joked about it, “why don’t you share what you two learned about yesterday?” he jokingly asked us.
In sum, I feel awesome to have been able to share this experience with the people I work with and see every day. I hope, even if it’s in a miniscule way, that my counterparts remember our day in Antigua and that it inspires them in some way; whether it’s being more open about their sexuality, being more open to participating in events about topics that may make them uncomfortable, or even if it’s just sharing the experience with other women.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Updates after a 3 month hiatus!
I know it’s been a while. I’m sitting here in Antigua at the end of what is known as “Reconnect” which basically entails all the volunteers from my training class coming together or reconnecting to share experiences, have a good time, and make sure we’re all doing okay. This is the longest time I’ve spent outside of site and I feel very strange. I want to go back home. Yep, home, not the United States but the lovely little town of Canillá. Antigua is great but it’s basically like the United States, everything is at my fingertips: internet, good food, clothes, bars, etc. I mean hell the other day I went to a gym, a real gym, and took a bike class. Nuts! I’m not even sure where I should start at this point since I haven’t written a single entry in my blog since I arrived in my site but here it goes!
I’ll start with my first time taking the bus to Canillá. So after swear-in we all said our goodbyes and went in groups to our cabecera (department capital). That experience was surreal. You have no idea what to expect, what you’re getting into, you’re saying goodbye to the familiar yet again. It’s difficult to properly describe the mental state I was in but a blend of fear, excitement and nervousness is probably the best description. I distinctly remember arriving in Quiche and looking for the bus to my town. I ask around and someone shockingly asked me why I was going there and then informed me that the bus that was already leaving the terminal was the last bus into town and what I needed to take. Shit! Luckily they whistle and shout for the bus driver to stop so I can get on. Life saver. The moment I step into the bus, I get 50 Guatemalan stares at once. I try to remember all the advice from other PCVs and so I just say hello to everyone and smile as much as possible (gotta make a good impression!) Every now and then when I get on that bus a smile to myself and remember that story; it’s comforting to know that what seemed so unfamiliar 3 months ago is routine now.
Every volunteer has a different type of experience and thus far I’ve been quite busy and I love it. I love that this is a job. Sure, sometimes it gets old to have to continuously make small talk in Spanish (I hate small talk in English so to have to do it in another language is even more laborious). My first month in site consisted of working long hours to help put together an event to elect a Mayan Princess. My town is a fascinating mix of cultures, pretty much half and half with Ladinos and Mayans. Then my next month consisted of planning for 2011 with our projects and activities. This brings me to my second point, my counterparts are super “pilas” (aka ambitious and hardworking). So for all of you out there that think that all Guatemalans are lazy or don’t know how to do anything…you’re wrong. Come on over to Canillá and I’ll show you a great group of co-workers. Sure it takes twice as long to get things done because we stop to gossip or tell some random story but we’re a team. That’s something you don’t get in the States and I know I’ll miss terribly when I go home. The other day we were talking about elections (if a new Mayor gets elected basically all of my co-workers are fired and replaced with the new Mayor’s people) and one of my co-workers said “don’t worry Carolina, if we don’t work here we’ll still help you out because what’s important is that we help the women and children here and that our five year plan keeps going”. I’m incredibly lucky.
I also have a wonderful family and sitemate who is basically part of my family now too. When I first arrived to site I lived with this one family that was okay but I didn’t necessarily feel too comfortable. The lamina roof didn’t connect with the walls so birds were constantly in my room and it would get incredibly chilly at night. Also there was a man who lived in the room next door whose snoring was INCREDIBLY loud. I can usually sleep through anything (bombas, dog barking, camioneta noises) but this dude took it to another level. Thus, all of those things added together just made me feel uncomfortable. Justin reminded me of advice that he heard from another volunteer that in Peace Corps we have enough situations of feeling uncomfortable so there’s no need to make it worse. If you don’t feel comfortable in your own home, life’s going to be pretty rough. There are a couple situations that seem to stand out in my mind in regards to living in that house. The first day I arrived in site I read for hours and cried. Change is hard and even though you know it’ll get better it’s still scary. All I had was a bed (thank God I had that!) and emptied suitcases. Alone. Another situation that was strange for me was cooking. It’s like I had put up a wall or something in regards to getting cooking supplies and cooking for myself, some sort of mental roadblock. I’d make so many excuses so that I wouldn’t have to cook for myself. It seems ridiculous now looking back but at the time I just didn’t want to do it. I think I thought that if I started setting up my kitchen and everything then I’d have to stay in that house. I just didn’t want to settle in so for that first month I just told myself that everything was temporary. Even though my living situation wasn’t ideal, things at work were great and my co-workers made up for the lack of feeling at home in my old house.
By the beginning of December I moved into my new family’s house. I definitely have to thank Peace Corps for coming out to my site so quickly to approve my new living situation. I told them I wanted to spend Christmas with this new family which meant I had to move in that week; they arrived the next day. I live with a great couple and my “mom” reminds me more of my abuelita which is great and her son and daughter-in-law live next door which is where my sitemate lives. So we’re all a big family and it’s perfect. I never want to move out and I’m thrilled that I have a family now. I always knew I wanted to live with a family during my service. I know Americans love their privacy and all that jazz but I miss my family at home incredibly and it’s important to me to have a close connection with a family here to help deal with that separation. Obviously no one can replace my mom and pop but I can already tell it’s going to be incredibly hard to leave my Guatemalan family after two years.
This is getting pretty long and there’s still so much more to say, I’ll have to put up another post describing the work I’ve been doing and plan to do next. But in general, Peace Corps is one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life. I know I’ll have my lows and difficult moments, but I know this is where I belong. Isn’t it an amazing feeling when things just connect? When you know what you’re doing at that moment is exactly what you need to be doing at exactly the right time.
I’ll start with my first time taking the bus to Canillá. So after swear-in we all said our goodbyes and went in groups to our cabecera (department capital). That experience was surreal. You have no idea what to expect, what you’re getting into, you’re saying goodbye to the familiar yet again. It’s difficult to properly describe the mental state I was in but a blend of fear, excitement and nervousness is probably the best description. I distinctly remember arriving in Quiche and looking for the bus to my town. I ask around and someone shockingly asked me why I was going there and then informed me that the bus that was already leaving the terminal was the last bus into town and what I needed to take. Shit! Luckily they whistle and shout for the bus driver to stop so I can get on. Life saver. The moment I step into the bus, I get 50 Guatemalan stares at once. I try to remember all the advice from other PCVs and so I just say hello to everyone and smile as much as possible (gotta make a good impression!) Every now and then when I get on that bus a smile to myself and remember that story; it’s comforting to know that what seemed so unfamiliar 3 months ago is routine now.
Every volunteer has a different type of experience and thus far I’ve been quite busy and I love it. I love that this is a job. Sure, sometimes it gets old to have to continuously make small talk in Spanish (I hate small talk in English so to have to do it in another language is even more laborious). My first month in site consisted of working long hours to help put together an event to elect a Mayan Princess. My town is a fascinating mix of cultures, pretty much half and half with Ladinos and Mayans. Then my next month consisted of planning for 2011 with our projects and activities. This brings me to my second point, my counterparts are super “pilas” (aka ambitious and hardworking). So for all of you out there that think that all Guatemalans are lazy or don’t know how to do anything…you’re wrong. Come on over to Canillá and I’ll show you a great group of co-workers. Sure it takes twice as long to get things done because we stop to gossip or tell some random story but we’re a team. That’s something you don’t get in the States and I know I’ll miss terribly when I go home. The other day we were talking about elections (if a new Mayor gets elected basically all of my co-workers are fired and replaced with the new Mayor’s people) and one of my co-workers said “don’t worry Carolina, if we don’t work here we’ll still help you out because what’s important is that we help the women and children here and that our five year plan keeps going”. I’m incredibly lucky.
I also have a wonderful family and sitemate who is basically part of my family now too. When I first arrived to site I lived with this one family that was okay but I didn’t necessarily feel too comfortable. The lamina roof didn’t connect with the walls so birds were constantly in my room and it would get incredibly chilly at night. Also there was a man who lived in the room next door whose snoring was INCREDIBLY loud. I can usually sleep through anything (bombas, dog barking, camioneta noises) but this dude took it to another level. Thus, all of those things added together just made me feel uncomfortable. Justin reminded me of advice that he heard from another volunteer that in Peace Corps we have enough situations of feeling uncomfortable so there’s no need to make it worse. If you don’t feel comfortable in your own home, life’s going to be pretty rough. There are a couple situations that seem to stand out in my mind in regards to living in that house. The first day I arrived in site I read for hours and cried. Change is hard and even though you know it’ll get better it’s still scary. All I had was a bed (thank God I had that!) and emptied suitcases. Alone. Another situation that was strange for me was cooking. It’s like I had put up a wall or something in regards to getting cooking supplies and cooking for myself, some sort of mental roadblock. I’d make so many excuses so that I wouldn’t have to cook for myself. It seems ridiculous now looking back but at the time I just didn’t want to do it. I think I thought that if I started setting up my kitchen and everything then I’d have to stay in that house. I just didn’t want to settle in so for that first month I just told myself that everything was temporary. Even though my living situation wasn’t ideal, things at work were great and my co-workers made up for the lack of feeling at home in my old house.
By the beginning of December I moved into my new family’s house. I definitely have to thank Peace Corps for coming out to my site so quickly to approve my new living situation. I told them I wanted to spend Christmas with this new family which meant I had to move in that week; they arrived the next day. I live with a great couple and my “mom” reminds me more of my abuelita which is great and her son and daughter-in-law live next door which is where my sitemate lives. So we’re all a big family and it’s perfect. I never want to move out and I’m thrilled that I have a family now. I always knew I wanted to live with a family during my service. I know Americans love their privacy and all that jazz but I miss my family at home incredibly and it’s important to me to have a close connection with a family here to help deal with that separation. Obviously no one can replace my mom and pop but I can already tell it’s going to be incredibly hard to leave my Guatemalan family after two years.
This is getting pretty long and there’s still so much more to say, I’ll have to put up another post describing the work I’ve been doing and plan to do next. But in general, Peace Corps is one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life. I know I’ll have my lows and difficult moments, but I know this is where I belong. Isn’t it an amazing feeling when things just connect? When you know what you’re doing at that moment is exactly what you need to be doing at exactly the right time.
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