One year in site (casi)

Well, I haven’t written a blog post in a year, so here’s a really long one to make up for it. Since coming to PC-Guatemala, I have become rather less analytical and reflective, and therefore have not really made an effort, preferring to talk to loved ones to let them know what’s going on over here. When there are saddening or difficult things around you, sometimes it’s better for your work to focus on the positive and continue on. But after an awesome and rewarding week of work, I do feel the need to reflect and share a little of what this year has been like finally. Since my time here in site is about half over, it’s definitely the right time for it.

 To be honest, I entered the Peace Corps based on a very general feeling that it’d be something cool to do. Considering how much we’ve been through here at PC-Guatemala in the past eight months or so, it’s turned out that vague reasons for doing what we’re doing just aren’t enough. Luckily, there has been no trouble coming up with about a million reasons for serving here in Guatemala this past year. I have found an unbelievable amount of beauty here in Guatemala, even along with this country’s challenges. Making lists has always been my favorite way to catalogue experiences, impressions, and memories...so here it goes, some highlights from an improbable year of service in Peace Corps Guatemala.

 -The women (and the few men) I work with are fantastic. Every meeting I have with them confirms my reasons for being here (which, if they weren’t clear to begin with, are more than clear enough now). I have about eighty participants spread over five communities, and they range from eight-year-olds to the elderly. The teenage girls take notes during my charlas, the older ladies love an opportunity to get together, and the few men that come are true community leaders. Even if I’m teaching them something as simple as how to make a hair mask out of avocados and aloe (both of which grow abundantly in their communities) or about respiratory infections, they are always excited to learn new things and make it fun. I leave pretty much every meeting feeling like the luckiest PCV to have the chance to work with these women, in their brightly colored, flowered dresses and willingness to smile, learn, and share their lives with me.
-Every day the domestic animals in this country amaze me. Sometimes mistreated, often ignored, they lead difficult lives. The four or five dogs that hang out at my house, laying in the sunshine, are wonderful animals. A little kindness goes a long way in a place where domestic animals aren’t seen in the same way as in the States, and I’ve made some pretty awesome canine friends.

-A memory that will stick with me forever is helping to connect my host mom via Skype with her son who she has not seen in years, and her grandsons, who she has never met in person. They went to the U.S. and aren’t able to come back for visits...the first visual reunion in years via Skype was pretty powerful stuff.

-Plants without rain get pretty ugly. Like really brown and ugly. The silver lining being that I feel like I am stepping into a dream leaving my house now that everything is coming up emerald green, and will stay that way until about January. I’m getting more into growing things than ever would have happened in the States, and I will soon be planting a big vegetable garden next to my house with the help my wonderful sitemate from the Food Security program.

- Having my own space for the first time in my life, one of the highlights of PC-Guatemala has been “nesting” – making my house completely my own. Most volunteers don’t have this luxury, but I somehow lucked into a great home for two years, with the nearby support and protection of my host mother and the whole community. I’ve never felt safer in site now that everyone in town knows me and what I’m doing here.

-I say that the women I work with are fantastic. But you have no idea how hard it was to find these women! Truly participative health promoters are a challenge to find in my communities. Starting the groups was like pulling teeth, and I felt like I should be picking up rocks and looking under them for health promoters. There is nothing worse than being a PCV without work to do. Luckily I found where I was most needed...and wanted. The furthest, most remote communities had never had the opportunity to work with someone like me, particularly not anyone who was interested in coming to them. The three-hour walks over mountains are incredibly worth it, and it’s an honor to be the first person to work with these people in their remote and challenging but beautiful homes.

-I spend a lot of time walking through lesser-trodden paths through the mountains, at times by myself. You would think I would encounter more wildlife, but I’ve only come face-to-face with a fox and some squirrels. Unfortunately for me, I encounter way more wildlife inside my house. From scorpions to tarantulas, giant praying mantises, of course gigantic spiders (and all of their young), there is never a dull moment when my cat is hunting the multitude of bugs inside my house.

-Obviously, living in a “developing” country can be difficult—and as an optimist, I might not portray that well when I share my experiences with those at home in the States. People that I know in my community deal with devastating poverty, complete lack of infrastructure, alcoholism, malnutrition and domestic violence. One of my communities is so remote that during the height of the rainy season the river gets so large that they cannot leave their community! Of course, there’s no bridge or even a store in the town, and a few members of the community have drowned attempting to cross. Five out of nine of my communities have no electricity; a few of those only have river water to drink. Living here, you quickly see that living without these “necessities” is completely possible. It turns out that the bigger issues here in Guatemala might be a little more elusive, but for another year I’ll be here enjoying the beauty this amazing country has to offer while hopefully lending a hand to the extraordinary members of this little community in El Quiche.