I found some guys who enjoy shooting hoops so I’ve brought my basketball game up here. There’s a muddy court we play streetball on in the foggy evenings. Our own Rucker Park and while I’m not exactly “The Goat” or “Black Jesus”, I can dominate. (I need to get an awesome nickname like those two guys. Sweet Dan Jennings?) As much as I’d love to say it’s more than just the height factor, it mainly is the height factor. What they lack in height the make up for with speed. They’re much quicker than I am. They’re in better shape and they’re used to playing at this altitude. I gotta get in better shape. I’m no Derrick Coleman.
I do love me some streetball. Their version of 21 is a little odd. I’ve played it numerous times and still don’t quite understand it. I’m such a sucker for a game of basketball. The other day I was sick and they called me out to play. See: The Flu Game. Ok so I exaggerate. Anyways apparently there is a somewhat semi-thrown together league or let’s just say a group of teams. Last year my team were the Lakers, this year they’re the Bobcats. That’s right they asked me to name the team. Apparently we’re getting jerseys (!?) made: blue, outlined with white with Los Bobcats printed on the front. We’ll see how those turn out. I’m not exactly sure they’ll resemble the real Bobcats uniforms. We’ve got a game tomorrow night and I’m pretty excited to see how these Nebajenses run the floor. What I learned playing in Sacatepequez is not to assume your height will carry the game. We got trounced a few times. Some of these cats can ball.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Movies with my brothers and sisters
The kids in my family love to watch movies, which is cool with me. No matter how horribly dubbed the film is I think it’s a great way to practice my Spanish, an opportunity which in this Ixil speaking town, is very rare. Also if the film only has Spanish subtitles it can be absolutely hilarious because many times what is being said on screen and what’s appearing as the translation are completely different. The kids mainly get a hold of shitty comedies and action movies like Wayans Brothers films or The Fast and the Furious. But whatever the movie, sitting and watching with them is great. Their eyes full of wonder I find myself laughing with them in their joy even if the movie is terrible. I’d been trying to find a good way to connect with them since I’m busy all day and we don’t get to spend much time together. I figured that laughter is a perfect way. The only movies I brought that I thought might appeal to them are Beverly Hills Cop and The Naked Gun but alas those don’t have Spanish subtitles. When they were looking through my DVD’s they pointed out Wet Hot American Summer because of the colorful disc but I made it clear that that was a definite no. Too adult, plus I don’t think they would get the humor.
It’s often hit or miss with my brothers and sisters. Sometimes I can predict whether they’ll like the movie before we watch it and other times not. Example: I showed them Kick-Ass the other night because with the exception of candy, there is nothing children like better than violent action movies. It was a success. They were enthralled watching little kids kill bad guys and I was pleased by their excitement. Other times I miss the mark. I figured they like dumb, silly comedies so I showed them Zoolander which is about as mindless a comedy as there is and I only got a couple chuckles. Slapstick translates the best. I need to get a hold of some Jim Carrey movies. They loved The Mask.
Anyways last night I had an unexpected success, kind of. I’m a big fan of Eddie Murphy’s 1980’s comedies (48 Hrs., Beverly Hills Cop, Coming to America, etc.). I don’t know what he’s doing now with Norbit and The Adventures of Pluto Nash but his work in the 80s was gold. John, the volunteer I replaced left me some movies that he bought down here including one of my personal favorite Eddie Murphy films: Trading Places. Although the original unedited version is superior, if you had cable growing up you’ve probably seen the edited version on television. This movie is on Comedy Central more times than Law & Order is on USA network. I had the movie and I was dying to watch it and the kids noticed I had a movie they hadn’t seen (it could have been any movie for all they cared) and they begged me to put it on. Again the humor isn’t exactly silly, slapstick type stuff so I warned them that they probably wouldn’t enjoy it but they insisted. Well we put it in and by the end it was just my oldest brother Carlos (19) and I watching it and although it lost its effect on the younger kids, he was getting it. He would crack up and turn to me to point out something funny that had happened. It was perfect. It was great to spend some time with just him. We both have busy schedules and most of the time I watch the movies with the younger ones who are more often around than Carlos. I know he wants to hang out and I want to hang out with him so it’s good that we get the older sibling bonding time. I invited him to shoot hoops once but he couldn’t. Perhaps next time. While the language is definitely a barrier we can both share laughter at funny movies.
On another note, Lauren Marentette, a good friend of mine in high school gave birth to a beautiful baby boy yesterday and I just wanted to note how wonderful that is and that I'm very happy for her.
It’s often hit or miss with my brothers and sisters. Sometimes I can predict whether they’ll like the movie before we watch it and other times not. Example: I showed them Kick-Ass the other night because with the exception of candy, there is nothing children like better than violent action movies. It was a success. They were enthralled watching little kids kill bad guys and I was pleased by their excitement. Other times I miss the mark. I figured they like dumb, silly comedies so I showed them Zoolander which is about as mindless a comedy as there is and I only got a couple chuckles. Slapstick translates the best. I need to get a hold of some Jim Carrey movies. They loved The Mask.
Anyways last night I had an unexpected success, kind of. I’m a big fan of Eddie Murphy’s 1980’s comedies (48 Hrs., Beverly Hills Cop, Coming to America, etc.). I don’t know what he’s doing now with Norbit and The Adventures of Pluto Nash but his work in the 80s was gold. John, the volunteer I replaced left me some movies that he bought down here including one of my personal favorite Eddie Murphy films: Trading Places. Although the original unedited version is superior, if you had cable growing up you’ve probably seen the edited version on television. This movie is on Comedy Central more times than Law & Order is on USA network. I had the movie and I was dying to watch it and the kids noticed I had a movie they hadn’t seen (it could have been any movie for all they cared) and they begged me to put it on. Again the humor isn’t exactly silly, slapstick type stuff so I warned them that they probably wouldn’t enjoy it but they insisted. Well we put it in and by the end it was just my oldest brother Carlos (19) and I watching it and although it lost its effect on the younger kids, he was getting it. He would crack up and turn to me to point out something funny that had happened. It was perfect. It was great to spend some time with just him. We both have busy schedules and most of the time I watch the movies with the younger ones who are more often around than Carlos. I know he wants to hang out and I want to hang out with him so it’s good that we get the older sibling bonding time. I invited him to shoot hoops once but he couldn’t. Perhaps next time. While the language is definitely a barrier we can both share laughter at funny movies.
On another note, Lauren Marentette, a good friend of mine in high school gave birth to a beautiful baby boy yesterday and I just wanted to note how wonderful that is and that I'm very happy for her.
I’m going to have to start hiding my peanut butter from myself.
The day in Quiché was well needed. Not only was I there to buy household supplies but I was also able to see two other volunteers: Noor and Nicole. It was great to see some familiar faces because I’m totally isolated from my fellow volunteers out in Salquil Grande. We went to the dispensa (supermarket) to stock up on supplies and buy some kitchenware.
With my new oven mitts it’s always Christmas! I mainly nabbed some food stuffs in the dispensa including parmesan cheese which is going to be absolutely bitchin’ on the pasta that is currently cooking on my stove. That pot gets terribly hot so I had to grab some oven mitts and it being the holiday season means festive designs so I’ll be mashing a print of Santa’s bearded face into the hot metal.
After visiting the dispensa we walked through the marketplace and I bought some relatively unnecessary items. When I was in high school my Uncle Rob changed the way I shaved. He gave me mug with a bar of soap and a brush of badger tail for Christmas. It has always been one of my favorite gifts and I definitely prefer the traditional way of mixing the bar of soap in the mug with the brush and then lathering it on my face as opposed to simply spraying the canned shaving cream. Like most people I shave with the common safety razor but after seeing someone selling straight razors I decided to take the whole traditional shaving method a step further. It’s going to be quite the (painful) trial and error process and the more I read about starting to shave with a cut-throat razor (wonderful name, right?) the more I ask myself what the hell I was thinking buying one. It requires a certain skill to shave with one and it apparently takes about 100 shaves (and innumerable cuts) before you get a handle on it. Might as well try to pick something new up while I’m down here. Let the great experiment begin.
The other unnecessary purchase I made in the market was Titanic II (well maybe it was necessary). I was walking by a DVD stand and lo and behold there it was. I had to pull the trigger on it. Had to. My curiosity was piqued after that previous journal entry where I wrote that I had seen it hanging on a DVD stand. Not surprisingly it was god-awful. So bad that it was unintentionally funny. So while it probably isn’t the best $1.25 I’ve ever spent, it was worth it.
I’m still consuming an absurd amount of tortillas but tamales are more popular in Salquil Grande and they’ve become a staple of my diet here. They’ve already worn out their welcome so I usually cook dinner for myself and afterwards (I’m trying to) ration myself a spoonful of the delicious, crunchy peanut butter I picked up in Quiché.
With my new oven mitts it’s always Christmas! I mainly nabbed some food stuffs in the dispensa including parmesan cheese which is going to be absolutely bitchin’ on the pasta that is currently cooking on my stove. That pot gets terribly hot so I had to grab some oven mitts and it being the holiday season means festive designs so I’ll be mashing a print of Santa’s bearded face into the hot metal.
After visiting the dispensa we walked through the marketplace and I bought some relatively unnecessary items. When I was in high school my Uncle Rob changed the way I shaved. He gave me mug with a bar of soap and a brush of badger tail for Christmas. It has always been one of my favorite gifts and I definitely prefer the traditional way of mixing the bar of soap in the mug with the brush and then lathering it on my face as opposed to simply spraying the canned shaving cream. Like most people I shave with the common safety razor but after seeing someone selling straight razors I decided to take the whole traditional shaving method a step further. It’s going to be quite the (painful) trial and error process and the more I read about starting to shave with a cut-throat razor (wonderful name, right?) the more I ask myself what the hell I was thinking buying one. It requires a certain skill to shave with one and it apparently takes about 100 shaves (and innumerable cuts) before you get a handle on it. Might as well try to pick something new up while I’m down here. Let the great experiment begin.
The other unnecessary purchase I made in the market was Titanic II (well maybe it was necessary). I was walking by a DVD stand and lo and behold there it was. I had to pull the trigger on it. Had to. My curiosity was piqued after that previous journal entry where I wrote that I had seen it hanging on a DVD stand. Not surprisingly it was god-awful. So bad that it was unintentionally funny. So while it probably isn’t the best $1.25 I’ve ever spent, it was worth it.
I’m still consuming an absurd amount of tortillas but tamales are more popular in Salquil Grande and they’ve become a staple of my diet here. They’ve already worn out their welcome so I usually cook dinner for myself and afterwards (I’m trying to) ration myself a spoonful of the delicious, crunchy peanut butter I picked up in Quiché.
Camionetas
Transportation here can be quite an experience. The most comfortable method of travel are Pullmans but they’re rare and only on the Pan-American Highway. The most common form of transportation are camionetas and riding on them is an essential experience of Guatemalan life. Camionetas are school buses from the U.S. that have somehow found their way down here. Usually they’re painted different colors but sometimes you’ll see the traditional yellow with the name of a U.S. school district on the side. At the front of the bus there is the leftover English sign that reads “Your child’s safety is our business.” These signs are pretty funny because if you’ve ever been on a camioneta you know that safety isn’t exactly a priority. The system is quite simple: the more people you can fit on your camioneta the more money you’ll make by giving them passage. As a result everyone is packed in on top of one another. I am especially at a disadvantage when it comes to riding in camionetas. I have long legs and when I sit down my knees are mashed into the metal back of the seat in front of me. The bumpy, unpaved road to Salquil Grande only makes this worse and I just have to grin and bear it. Sometimes you’ll get preachers who come on and scream the word of the Lord up front during the duration of the ride. Though it can be annoying, it’s also rather impressive. I like to think that it’s part of their training in seminary: they have to deliver sermons on a certain number of buses. The most bizarre form of camioneta busking I’ve seen (and this happened twice) was a man got on and made balloon animals (he was very good) and then ask for donations. Yes camionetas are quite the experience but unfortunately riding on them is your best chance of being robbed so you always have to be on the lookout.
My usual camioneta ride is the 5 a.m. bus that departs Salquil Grande for Nebaj. I wait outside of my house for the camioneta to roll-up, lights flashing in the dark, foggy street. I’ve mentioned before that they play a variety of music on the camionetas but on those that run between Salquil Grande and Nebaj all you’ll here are Christian tunes. Everyone is sort of in a sleepy half-awake state as the sun comes up during the ride. Once I would love for something like “Angel of Death” by Slayer to come blasting on and just see everyone whip their heads up in surprise. The other day on the bus someone was playing “Tarzan Boy” by Baltimora which made me smile because I remember it was on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III movie soundtrack I bought when I was 6.
The other common method of transportation are microbuses (in Africa we called them bush taxis). These are preferable to camionetas because they’re faster, usually more comfortable and sometimes the music is better. This past weekend I had a fun microbus experience. I was headed to Quiché, the department capital, to buy some things for my house so I caught a microbus in Nebaj for the beautiful three hour ride. We’d only made it two blocks when the woman next to me pulled out a bag and started gagging. Within ten minutes two other people were vomiting. I hugged the window, opened my book and tried not to smell. The first part of the drive from Nebaj to Quiche is a winding, rapid descent down the mountains with a stunning view, easily one of the most spectacular drives I’ve ever been on. Luckily the weather was sunny and clear and I could see for miles and I tried to focus on the beautiful day as opposed to the Guatemaltecos ralphing around me. I don’t know who Ralph was or what he did that made his name synonymous with vomit (although I have a clue) but I feel sorry for the guy.
On another note I’ve got a new address now that I’m out at post and it’s apparently more reliable than my previous one so please send stuff! Oh and also big thanks to Zach, Miles, and Will for keeping me up to date with good music.
My usual camioneta ride is the 5 a.m. bus that departs Salquil Grande for Nebaj. I wait outside of my house for the camioneta to roll-up, lights flashing in the dark, foggy street. I’ve mentioned before that they play a variety of music on the camionetas but on those that run between Salquil Grande and Nebaj all you’ll here are Christian tunes. Everyone is sort of in a sleepy half-awake state as the sun comes up during the ride. Once I would love for something like “Angel of Death” by Slayer to come blasting on and just see everyone whip their heads up in surprise. The other day on the bus someone was playing “Tarzan Boy” by Baltimora which made me smile because I remember it was on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III movie soundtrack I bought when I was 6.
The other common method of transportation are microbuses (in Africa we called them bush taxis). These are preferable to camionetas because they’re faster, usually more comfortable and sometimes the music is better. This past weekend I had a fun microbus experience. I was headed to Quiché, the department capital, to buy some things for my house so I caught a microbus in Nebaj for the beautiful three hour ride. We’d only made it two blocks when the woman next to me pulled out a bag and started gagging. Within ten minutes two other people were vomiting. I hugged the window, opened my book and tried not to smell. The first part of the drive from Nebaj to Quiche is a winding, rapid descent down the mountains with a stunning view, easily one of the most spectacular drives I’ve ever been on. Luckily the weather was sunny and clear and I could see for miles and I tried to focus on the beautiful day as opposed to the Guatemaltecos ralphing around me. I don’t know who Ralph was or what he did that made his name synonymous with vomit (although I have a clue) but I feel sorry for the guy.
On another note I’ve got a new address now that I’m out at post and it’s apparently more reliable than my previous one so please send stuff! Oh and also big thanks to Zach, Miles, and Will for keeping me up to date with good music.
Friday, November 5, 2010
And so it begins...again
It’s cold. I was hoping for some sweet, sweet sunshine after last night’s frozen slumber in long undies and my beanie but alas that’s not the case. It’s November and the beginning of winter and perched on the mountainside, Salquil is completely enveloped in the clouds. Standing in the street you couldn’t see fifty feet in front of you. As a result I have spent the day huddled in my room, studying Spanish, trying to plan my work for the next month and currently hunched over my laptop with a warm cup of Darjeeling tea on my stove (Brittany you’re the best).
It’s my first week as a volunteer here and what a week it has been. I meant to update my blog earlier but I was continually finding myself drained of brain power at the end of every day, exhausted from trying to keep up with all the Spanish. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday at meetings with my cooperative in Nebaj. By the end of Tuesday’s 9 hour session completely in Spanish all I wanted was a cold beer (and I got one). Wednesday’s meeting was better. I was digesting more of the Spanish and I was more involved as we planned out the month ahead. It’s going to be a crazy one.
Perhaps I should give you a brief description of what exactly my work here entails. As a Food Security Facilitator there are three basic areas I work in: 1) Community gardens(soil conservation, compost, worm composting, etc.). 2) Poultry/livestock management (vaccination campaigns, milk goats are a big project in Nebaj). 3) Nutrition (Usually educationally related, goat milk is more nutritious than cow milk. Nutrition is easily my weakest area of the three as anyone who lived with me in college can attest.) That’s a basic overview of the field in which I work.
Next week I have presentations in each of the three communities I’m going to be working in: Salquil Grande (my home), Quejchip, and San Francisco Javier. The initial goal for my first three months is five family gardens and one school garden in each of the communities. But before I can leap into that I have to take a survey and get to know the communities. John, the volunteer I replaced had some advice about approaches to carrying out projects, so we’ll see what happens. Also this month PROMASA, one of the organizations I’ve been assigned to is holding a health fair in Salquil. I’m not exactly sure what part I’m going to be playing in that but again, we’ll see what happens. I’m hoping I’ll be able to head to San Marcos so I can spend Thanksgiving with Jaron. That would be a nice end to a hectic month.
It’s my first week as a volunteer here and what a week it has been. I meant to update my blog earlier but I was continually finding myself drained of brain power at the end of every day, exhausted from trying to keep up with all the Spanish. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday at meetings with my cooperative in Nebaj. By the end of Tuesday’s 9 hour session completely in Spanish all I wanted was a cold beer (and I got one). Wednesday’s meeting was better. I was digesting more of the Spanish and I was more involved as we planned out the month ahead. It’s going to be a crazy one.
Perhaps I should give you a brief description of what exactly my work here entails. As a Food Security Facilitator there are three basic areas I work in: 1) Community gardens(soil conservation, compost, worm composting, etc.). 2) Poultry/livestock management (vaccination campaigns, milk goats are a big project in Nebaj). 3) Nutrition (Usually educationally related, goat milk is more nutritious than cow milk. Nutrition is easily my weakest area of the three as anyone who lived with me in college can attest.) That’s a basic overview of the field in which I work.
Next week I have presentations in each of the three communities I’m going to be working in: Salquil Grande (my home), Quejchip, and San Francisco Javier. The initial goal for my first three months is five family gardens and one school garden in each of the communities. But before I can leap into that I have to take a survey and get to know the communities. John, the volunteer I replaced had some advice about approaches to carrying out projects, so we’ll see what happens. Also this month PROMASA, one of the organizations I’ve been assigned to is holding a health fair in Salquil. I’m not exactly sure what part I’m going to be playing in that but again, we’ll see what happens. I’m hoping I’ll be able to head to San Marcos so I can spend Thanksgiving with Jaron. That would be a nice end to a hectic month.
Last Hurrah
Training finally came to an end. It was intense and I learned a lot but, including my time in Togo, I’ve had 5 months of training in the past year instead of the 2 ½ , months, so I am ready to be out in the field. My Spanish comprehension has improved greatly and I’m constantly surprising myself when I speak. It’s an incredible feeling. I’m not anywhere close to being fluent but I know enough to get around and express myself.
San Bartolome has been a perfect training site. It’s a comfortable town with friendly residents. My family has been just awesome to live with. They’ve been wonderfully hospitable and patient. I’m going to miss them but I hope to return and visit sometime in the future. Also I’ve developed a fantastic ass from the daily hike to my house (it literally is uphill both ways). I remember when I was younger and my mom would take me shopping for pants. “You’ve got no butt,” she would say. Well that’s not the case anymore. As you can tell I’m proud of my newly sculpted tokhes.
To show our appreciation we prepared lunch for all of our host families in San Bartolome. We had shish-ka-bobs and while I think we did a damn fine job, they didn’t seem impressed. Meh.
I had a good laugh with my pops while we were eating. He turned to me and said, “This is good. All that’s missing is the pica (hot sauce). Have you not learned anything from us?” We both cracked up. Afterwards I bought a bottle of picante and then during dinner I told them “This is good. All that’s missing is the pica.” I then proceeded to pull out the bottle I bought and douse my plate. They gave me a nice floral blanket to take to site which was great. Cara’s host mother gave us all colorful cloths to wrap our tortillas in of course.
While I knew I would miss them, Friday couldn’t come soon enough. I woke up that cloudy morning, packed the last of my belongings into my backpack and straightened my tie in the mirror. We loaded our bags into a van and headed into the swelling mass that is Guatemala City. After idling in traffic we arrived at the home of the U.S. Ambassador to Guatemala Stephen McFarland. He has a beautiful spread complete with pool and tennis court. We didn’t waste time and the ceremony began and after taking the oath (the same oath that all government employees/officials with the exception of the President takes) we were volunteers. Smiles, hugs and pictures ensued.
We were dropped off in Antigua to celebrate the night. I was feeling under the weather but I powered through. A group of us were staying at a hostel and more people showed up more revelry occurred. I had gotten my hands on a bottle of Ron Zacapa, perhaps the best rum I've ever tasted (I will be bringing some back with me) and that made the rounds as we got ready for the night out. Everyone met up at a pizza parlor where we gave out superlatives. I was voted most likely to catch on fire (which was kind of random) and most likely to be medically evacuated (which was just cruel) but hey at least I didn’t get most likely to fall in a latrine or most likely to get fecal-oral contaminate.
The night descended into drink and laughter and by the time the pizza arrived we were scattered all over the restaurant. Afterwards we found our way to some club and danced like we were mad. It all came to a close with Marco Antonio Solis karaoke so yea , it was a tremendous night. The next morning was somber and with heavy heads we departed for our sites.
It’s been a great three months and I just want to thank all my fellow volunteers for the great times we had.
San Bartolome has been a perfect training site. It’s a comfortable town with friendly residents. My family has been just awesome to live with. They’ve been wonderfully hospitable and patient. I’m going to miss them but I hope to return and visit sometime in the future. Also I’ve developed a fantastic ass from the daily hike to my house (it literally is uphill both ways). I remember when I was younger and my mom would take me shopping for pants. “You’ve got no butt,” she would say. Well that’s not the case anymore. As you can tell I’m proud of my newly sculpted tokhes.
To show our appreciation we prepared lunch for all of our host families in San Bartolome. We had shish-ka-bobs and while I think we did a damn fine job, they didn’t seem impressed. Meh.
I had a good laugh with my pops while we were eating. He turned to me and said, “This is good. All that’s missing is the pica (hot sauce). Have you not learned anything from us?” We both cracked up. Afterwards I bought a bottle of picante and then during dinner I told them “This is good. All that’s missing is the pica.” I then proceeded to pull out the bottle I bought and douse my plate. They gave me a nice floral blanket to take to site which was great. Cara’s host mother gave us all colorful cloths to wrap our tortillas in of course.
While I knew I would miss them, Friday couldn’t come soon enough. I woke up that cloudy morning, packed the last of my belongings into my backpack and straightened my tie in the mirror. We loaded our bags into a van and headed into the swelling mass that is Guatemala City. After idling in traffic we arrived at the home of the U.S. Ambassador to Guatemala Stephen McFarland. He has a beautiful spread complete with pool and tennis court. We didn’t waste time and the ceremony began and after taking the oath (the same oath that all government employees/officials with the exception of the President takes) we were volunteers. Smiles, hugs and pictures ensued.
We were dropped off in Antigua to celebrate the night. I was feeling under the weather but I powered through. A group of us were staying at a hostel and more people showed up more revelry occurred. I had gotten my hands on a bottle of Ron Zacapa, perhaps the best rum I've ever tasted (I will be bringing some back with me) and that made the rounds as we got ready for the night out. Everyone met up at a pizza parlor where we gave out superlatives. I was voted most likely to catch on fire (which was kind of random) and most likely to be medically evacuated (which was just cruel) but hey at least I didn’t get most likely to fall in a latrine or most likely to get fecal-oral contaminate.
The night descended into drink and laughter and by the time the pizza arrived we were scattered all over the restaurant. Afterwards we found our way to some club and danced like we were mad. It all came to a close with Marco Antonio Solis karaoke so yea , it was a tremendous night. The next morning was somber and with heavy heads we departed for our sites.
It’s been a great three months and I just want to thank all my fellow volunteers for the great times we had.
Little Gems of U.S. Pop Culture
I love the random U.S. pop culture that I come across down here. I find them to be quite special, be it The Shirelles playing on a packed camioneta (Guatemalan buses which are literally old school buses, sometimes with U.S. school district names still written on the side) or Shampoo on TV (when was the last time you heard that movie referenced?). Man it was cool watching infamous lothario Warren Beatty play…well a lothario I guess. Sometimes you come across the most random stuff and it instantly makes you smile. I love it. Hell the other day in the market I saw a DVD titled Titanic 2. Titanic 2? How is that possible? The boat sinks in the first one. I should just buy it next time and find out. Oh and Homer is Homero on Los Simpsons here.
Living with Mayans
I mentioned a little about Salquil Grande in my last post but I think I should explain some more about my new home. Salquil Grande is located in what is called the Ixil region (pronounced “E-shill”). There are 22 different Mayan languages spoken in Guatemala and in the small area between the towns of Nebaj, Chajul, and Cotzal is a language spoken nowhere else in the country: Ixil. I will undoubtedly be learning Ixil. Remember how I said I wanted to be placed in a Mayan village? Well Salquil is 98% Mayan and during my visit the only time I ever heard the people speak Spanish was when they were speaking to me. The rest of the time they were conversing in Ixil. So now not only do I have Spanish on my plate, but Ixil as well.
There is some interesting history behind region. Guatemala was embroiled in a 36 year civil war during the latter half of the 20th century and unfortunately the war was especially hard on the Ixil people. The remoteness of the region that preserves its pristine mountains was one of the contributing factors to what some consider a genocide of the Ixil in the 1980s. As with all conflicts it’s important to recognize that there are two sides to every story as to why certain actions are taken but the fact that there were mass killings of the Ixil is indisputable. They were simply caught between two warring parties and the result was devastating. I won’t go into a history lesson but I’ll give you a brief, general overview of what I’ve learned because I think it’s pretty interesting. In the 1970s the Guerilla Army of the Poor took to the mountains of the region because of their remoteness and sadly the local villagers were trapped in the fight between the guerillas and the government as the army tried to purge the area of rebels and the rebels tried to maintain control of the region to create a independent zone. By the end of the war tens of thousands of civilians had been killed and those who survived were displaced from their homes. That’s all I really know but I would like to read more about it. I’ve heard that wounds are still fresh and although the area is commonly referred to as the Ixil Triangle (because of the three major towns Nebaj, Cotzal, and Chajul), one person told me that there’s a social stigma tied to that name and that it’s not kosher to refer to it as the Triangle.
On a lighter note I’ll tell you about my living situation in Salquil Grande. My house is a small room in a hostel. Because of Salquil’s remoteness the hostel doesn’t get many guests and that’s pretty apparent when you see the place. The hostel is run by a family of eight and they’ve been quite hospitable so far which is great. The kids are a lot of fun, they like watching movies. On my visit we watched The Mask and my host sister instantly said I was like Jim Carrey (something I’ve gotten throughout my life). I swear I’d only spoken probably 3 sentences to her and she already tagged me as a silly jokester. I’d say that’s a fair assessment.
In my travels I’ve always worried about religion coming into play with the family I’m living with. It’s a touchy subject. Hell, people die every day because of religion. I want to fit in and be accepted without any problems but at the same time there is nothing I hate more than proselytizing. It’s my biggest problem with religions. You can believe in whatever you like. As long as you’re not causing any harm then its fine with me. The family I’m living with is Evangelical and the father is a pastor. They asked me to go to church with them which I said I would. I’m interested in seeing their ceremonies because Evangelicals here are different than those in the States. However I’m a bit skeptical because Evangelicals here are particularly forceful with their beliefs (not that Evangelicals elsewhere aren’t as well, but here it’s more in your face). Maybe it was the preacher screaming in my face on the bus ride from Nebaj up to Salquil. I guess I’m a little worried about having to deal with that with my family. I don’t want to make things uncomfortable. I’ve lived with Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses, two religious groups that are notorious for door-knocking, but in both of those cases I didn’t feel pressure to convert at all. Hopefully it will be the same here. I like being the thoughtful observer, there to experience and learn without commitment. Anyways it’s an issue I’ll deal with when I come to it. So far the family has been great.
I like my little room, it’s quite quaint. I have a stiff little bed, a shelf made of stacked cinder blocks with a board between them, and a table with a stove on it. It’s Peace Corps Guatemala’s policy that all volunteers live with a host family for their first three months. Then they are free to find a house of their own. This was not the case in Togo where we had our own houses to start with. I’m sure most of my friends are looking forward to living on their own and I admit that would be nice but Salquil is such a small town and there’s no house to rent so chances are I’ll be living with this family for the whole two years. And that’s fine with me. I’m comfortable in my little room. Plus it's a hostel so if I can convince any of you to come visit me (and make my life) there's a place to stay.
I should comment on the weather because it’s rather unusual. Most of the time it’s cold up here in the mountains but that can change in an instant. There’s a big hard Sun, Eddie and its mighty powerful up here. It will be burning hot and I’ll be sweating but after spending a couple minutes in the shade I’ll want a jacket. Once the clouds role in late in the afternoon, it starts to get chilly. I’m coming to site at the beginning of November which is the last month of the rainy season and the beginning of winter. I’m glad I packed warm clothes.
There is some interesting history behind region. Guatemala was embroiled in a 36 year civil war during the latter half of the 20th century and unfortunately the war was especially hard on the Ixil people. The remoteness of the region that preserves its pristine mountains was one of the contributing factors to what some consider a genocide of the Ixil in the 1980s. As with all conflicts it’s important to recognize that there are two sides to every story as to why certain actions are taken but the fact that there were mass killings of the Ixil is indisputable. They were simply caught between two warring parties and the result was devastating. I won’t go into a history lesson but I’ll give you a brief, general overview of what I’ve learned because I think it’s pretty interesting. In the 1970s the Guerilla Army of the Poor took to the mountains of the region because of their remoteness and sadly the local villagers were trapped in the fight between the guerillas and the government as the army tried to purge the area of rebels and the rebels tried to maintain control of the region to create a independent zone. By the end of the war tens of thousands of civilians had been killed and those who survived were displaced from their homes. That’s all I really know but I would like to read more about it. I’ve heard that wounds are still fresh and although the area is commonly referred to as the Ixil Triangle (because of the three major towns Nebaj, Cotzal, and Chajul), one person told me that there’s a social stigma tied to that name and that it’s not kosher to refer to it as the Triangle.
On a lighter note I’ll tell you about my living situation in Salquil Grande. My house is a small room in a hostel. Because of Salquil’s remoteness the hostel doesn’t get many guests and that’s pretty apparent when you see the place. The hostel is run by a family of eight and they’ve been quite hospitable so far which is great. The kids are a lot of fun, they like watching movies. On my visit we watched The Mask and my host sister instantly said I was like Jim Carrey (something I’ve gotten throughout my life). I swear I’d only spoken probably 3 sentences to her and she already tagged me as a silly jokester. I’d say that’s a fair assessment.
In my travels I’ve always worried about religion coming into play with the family I’m living with. It’s a touchy subject. Hell, people die every day because of religion. I want to fit in and be accepted without any problems but at the same time there is nothing I hate more than proselytizing. It’s my biggest problem with religions. You can believe in whatever you like. As long as you’re not causing any harm then its fine with me. The family I’m living with is Evangelical and the father is a pastor. They asked me to go to church with them which I said I would. I’m interested in seeing their ceremonies because Evangelicals here are different than those in the States. However I’m a bit skeptical because Evangelicals here are particularly forceful with their beliefs (not that Evangelicals elsewhere aren’t as well, but here it’s more in your face). Maybe it was the preacher screaming in my face on the bus ride from Nebaj up to Salquil. I guess I’m a little worried about having to deal with that with my family. I don’t want to make things uncomfortable. I’ve lived with Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses, two religious groups that are notorious for door-knocking, but in both of those cases I didn’t feel pressure to convert at all. Hopefully it will be the same here. I like being the thoughtful observer, there to experience and learn without commitment. Anyways it’s an issue I’ll deal with when I come to it. So far the family has been great.
I like my little room, it’s quite quaint. I have a stiff little bed, a shelf made of stacked cinder blocks with a board between them, and a table with a stove on it. It’s Peace Corps Guatemala’s policy that all volunteers live with a host family for their first three months. Then they are free to find a house of their own. This was not the case in Togo where we had our own houses to start with. I’m sure most of my friends are looking forward to living on their own and I admit that would be nice but Salquil is such a small town and there’s no house to rent so chances are I’ll be living with this family for the whole two years. And that’s fine with me. I’m comfortable in my little room. Plus it's a hostel so if I can convince any of you to come visit me (and make my life) there's a place to stay.
I should comment on the weather because it’s rather unusual. Most of the time it’s cold up here in the mountains but that can change in an instant. There’s a big hard Sun, Eddie and its mighty powerful up here. It will be burning hot and I’ll be sweating but after spending a couple minutes in the shade I’ll want a jacket. Once the clouds role in late in the afternoon, it starts to get chilly. I’m coming to site at the beginning of November which is the last month of the rainy season and the beginning of winter. I’m glad I packed warm clothes.
7th Home in the Past Year
The past three weeks have been a whirlwind and I haven’t gotten enough time to write in my gournal (I hope someone gets that reference). Anyways, let’s play catch-up. I've broken up all of what I had written over the past couple of weeks up into five different entries. That way it’s not just one long, scatterbrained, rambling passage (although they will probably all read that way).
October 14th we were assigned our sites and we spent the next week visiting them. I knew I wanted a rural, indigenous site in the mountains, and that’s exactly what I got. For the next two years I will be living in Salquil Grande, an aldea in the Nebaj region of the department of Quiché, (“key-chay”). There’s an accent on the “e” so no it’s not pronounced like the French cuisine. Don’t bother trying to find Salquil Grande on Google Maps, it’s not there. Instead look up Nebaj, a close town of about 13,000. Salquil is about an hour and a half northwest of Nebaj along a windy, bumpy road high up in the Sierra de los Cuchumantanes, the highest non-volcanic mountain range in Central America. Salquil rests on a mountainside and my house sits at about 7,500 ft. From my window I have an incredible view of the surrounding 10,000+ ft peaks. The scenery of the area is epic; steep slopes drop into vast valleys. There is much to explore in these distant mountains with gushing rivers and cascading waterfalls. Not surprisingly Nebaj is a hiking destination though not well known or exploited due to its remoteness. I plan on doing a good amount of exploring during my time there.
The site visit went well. Peace Corps Guatemala pairs its volunteers up with organizations (this is not the case in Togo) and I’ve been paired with Save the Children which I think is a pretty well known U.S. organization. The other new volunteers in my area are also working with Save the Children: Stephen, Nicole, and Cara. They’re all a good distance away from me but we’ve got a good group up here and I’m pleased they’re (relatively) close to me. On our way to our sites we had a meeting in Santa Cruz de Quiché, the department capital. Save the Children put us up in a nice hotel and we spent the night full of fresh emotion, bonding over beers and watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
It was nice to finally see where I’ll be working. I’m replacing a volunteer named John who left me all his stuff which includes a huge Kansas Jayhawks flag, which shall be replaced as soon as possible. John was great in showing me around and introducing me to people. There is a decent sized group of gringos in Nebaj made up of volunteers from different organizations. They threw a welcome dinner for me which was nice. I’m looking forward to seeing them whenever I’m in Nebaj. Saturday we all returned from our post visit drained, eager to return to our sites and facing one more week of training.
October 14th we were assigned our sites and we spent the next week visiting them. I knew I wanted a rural, indigenous site in the mountains, and that’s exactly what I got. For the next two years I will be living in Salquil Grande, an aldea in the Nebaj region of the department of Quiché, (“key-chay”). There’s an accent on the “e” so no it’s not pronounced like the French cuisine. Don’t bother trying to find Salquil Grande on Google Maps, it’s not there. Instead look up Nebaj, a close town of about 13,000. Salquil is about an hour and a half northwest of Nebaj along a windy, bumpy road high up in the Sierra de los Cuchumantanes, the highest non-volcanic mountain range in Central America. Salquil rests on a mountainside and my house sits at about 7,500 ft. From my window I have an incredible view of the surrounding 10,000+ ft peaks. The scenery of the area is epic; steep slopes drop into vast valleys. There is much to explore in these distant mountains with gushing rivers and cascading waterfalls. Not surprisingly Nebaj is a hiking destination though not well known or exploited due to its remoteness. I plan on doing a good amount of exploring during my time there.
The site visit went well. Peace Corps Guatemala pairs its volunteers up with organizations (this is not the case in Togo) and I’ve been paired with Save the Children which I think is a pretty well known U.S. organization. The other new volunteers in my area are also working with Save the Children: Stephen, Nicole, and Cara. They’re all a good distance away from me but we’ve got a good group up here and I’m pleased they’re (relatively) close to me. On our way to our sites we had a meeting in Santa Cruz de Quiché, the department capital. Save the Children put us up in a nice hotel and we spent the night full of fresh emotion, bonding over beers and watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
It was nice to finally see where I’ll be working. I’m replacing a volunteer named John who left me all his stuff which includes a huge Kansas Jayhawks flag, which shall be replaced as soon as possible. John was great in showing me around and introducing me to people. There is a decent sized group of gringos in Nebaj made up of volunteers from different organizations. They threw a welcome dinner for me which was nice. I’m looking forward to seeing them whenever I’m in Nebaj. Saturday we all returned from our post visit drained, eager to return to our sites and facing one more week of training.
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