Food in Cuerpo de Paz

Eating beans and eggs every day for weeks? Or how about being served a meal with potatoes, rice, spaghetti and endless tortillas? Here’s another one, in the middle of your cooking session your gas runs out or the power goes out. Oh wait, and every volunteer knows this story, you’re invited to someone’s house and share a meal with them only to find yourself scrambling to the nearest bathroom to well, you know, I’ll save you the details. There are numerous reasons why food in the Peace Corps can be a bit of a personal challenge. Last week my host mom told me that she will no longer be able to cook lunches for me anymore (lunch is the big meal of the day and when I eat meat) so it suddenly dawned on me how differently I think about food here than I did in the US.

During training all of my meals were provided by my host family, sometimes it was delicious and sometimes it was a bit strange (spaghetti with hot dogs, ketchup and tortillas). Either way, during training I never had to worry about grocery shopping or how to prepare my next meal, it just sort of appeared. Upon arriving in site, I had to figure out a way to set up a kitchen in a limited space with limited materials. Thank goodness I replaced someone (thanks Cali!) and inherited a stove top and some necessary cooking materials. Thus, I have the necessities but I could certainly use more Tupperware and pots and pans (my spaghetti pot, is my sauce pan, and disinfecting bowl). Anyway, I thought it may be fun to go through how I have to prepare a meal here in site.

Market here is Saturday and usually on Friday nights you get a sneak peak and can buy most of what you need ahead of time. Market days are kind of a big deal, some people even get dressed up for them! I guess it’s when you run into community members and chit chat while also picking up what you need for the week. I prefer shopping on Friday nights in order to avoid the heat and get first dibs on veggies. I usually buy: bell peppers, carrots, pineapple, strawberries, onions, beets, jalapeños, green beans, avocadoes and sometimes broccoli. That usually holds me for the week (well at least it used to because I never had to worry about lunch). I don’t cook meat here. If someone else prepares it, that’s fine, or if we kill the chicken ourselves then obviously I’ll eat that too (ever tried killing a chicken with a dull kitchen knife?…I have! I totally apologized to the chicken god for it taking a little while!) I just don’t want to deal with meat here, where to get it, how long it has been sitting out in the market, the smell, storage, etc.

Access to food here is limited. If I have a craving for something in the middle of the week and I didn’t plan for it…guess what, not happening. Also the types of veggies here is limited, in Antigua or sometimes even in the department capital (2 hours away) you can find mushrooms, eggplant, mac and cheese, wheat bread and other oh so delicious awesomeness. There is no grocery store here; instead there are lots of little tiendas where you can usually find spaghetti, basic spice mixes, rice and white bread.

For breakfast I usually make smoothies: either strawberry-banana or pineapple, carrot and beet (it’s yummy for real, try it!) with a scoop of protein powder. Dinners are pretty small for me because lunch is so big. When I had protein bars from the States I would eat one of those, beans and egg, soup, and there have even been times when I have peanut butter from Antigua that I have literally just taken a spoon full of peanut butter and dipped it into honey or home-made strawberry jam (who needs bread when you have spoons!)

So now my challenge to you all is: what can I cook for lunch!? I’d love your vegetarian recipes! Remember, nothing too complicated and I’d prefer for it to not include the use of an oven because I don’t own an oven. Either send them to my email (ckent0601@gmail.com) or just post them as a comment. Thanks!!

Oh and here are some fun food pics from the past several months!

Boy for Sale

Literally, there was a boy for sale this morning. Absolutely tragic.

While eating lunch today my host family explained to me that a drunk guy knocked on their door offering his son for sale (his son was standing right next to him). The son has no name, there's no official record of who he is or where he's from. He claims to be eleven years old but who knows if that's even correct. Obviously, my host family didn't buy him but took him in, shooed of the drunken dad, and gave the boy some lunch. While we were eating, the family was trying to figure out what to do with him. They came to a consensus that first and foremost they had to report it to the town judge just in case his mother was looking for him and to ensure that the mom couldn't place blame on the family for kidnapping or something crazy like that. Then they decided if in fact the family does not want the kid anymore that they'd let him live on the farm and work for food and clothing until he is old enough to decide what he wants to do.

This story impacted me for a myriad of reasons but more than anything it's heartbreaking to think that a human being would sell their son so they could have money to buy more alcohol. It's disgusting in fact. I also wanted to share because it's crazy that this is a reality here. Never in my life had I witnessed someone selling his son or daughter but I guess it's a reality where I live now. Poverty just hit home.

Seeds

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!!

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"

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.

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.