The above title is in no way directed at the fact that many Guatemalans happen to be of small stature, but at the fact that last night we celebrated Mary's (My neighbor and mother of ten children) 47th birthday. When one thinks of birthday celebrations music, food and dancing may come to mind. There was no dancing at this gathering, but to quickly sidetrack a couple weeks back two of the past volunteers from this Co-op came back for a week long visit. Both volunteers completed service here in 2007, therefore are only a few brief years removed from service and still fresh in the minds of the people here. Marsha, one of the two volunteers, just finished law school at U-Penn (congrats) and ironically enough studied international business at the same university (UIBE) in Beijing as I did (Shout out to my China buddy Liz R. on your new full-time employment!). We all decided to meet up and go out dancing one night in Coban, all of us being them and their two friends. The five of us tore up the dance floor, or more accurately their two friends were possibly the best dancers I have ever personally witnessed (Better than hood-baller). The guy, Jose, won some major dance competition and is apparently 'The Best Dancer' in Alta Verapaz, the department in which I live. This would be equivalent to being the best dancer in a state in the United States, even though this entire country is the size of Ohio. Let's just say he'd be the best dancer in all of Rhode Island.
Flash-forward to last night. This was the second birthday I have attended in my town thus far, both of which have been within Evangelical families. Both events consisted of a decent amount of people gathering together, prayers being said and feast of caldo de gallina (Chicken soup, more specifically a broth with a piece of chicken a few herbs and possibly rice in it). After this meal, cake is served and everyone seems to wander home. I had been sick this past weekend (actually pooped myself as a 22 year-old man- TMI I know) and was specifically excited for this meal with a newly restored appetite. With ten kids and five grand-kids all living in the same compound the house was packed. I helped Gloria serve tea and atol to the guests and then ate dinner with the family in the kitchen. Eating dinner in the cramped kitchen standing up was a great feeling, a passage if you will, from seated guest to family member. Check out the photos:
Ammunition for a whole-lotta tortillas!
"Chicken Little" as Mary Jr. calls them
Playing cards with Pancho
Miguelito in a basket
Michelle serving the tamalitos
Gloria and the caldo
Baby Lisbeth- 11 months yesterday
The guests sitting down to eat
Wooden walker!
Jacqueline y Jimmy
Mary Jr.
Stray puppy
13 y.o. Byron failing to not crack a smile while doing the I now kill cows for a living pose
In a quick attempt to summarize a unique experience I had last week, a recent blog post by my friend and fellow Upstate NY'er Jordan Brown popped into my head. Jordan had an eventful cultural experience himself (Check it out: http://jbrownspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/04/importance-of-taking-initiative.html )
'Life is about wandering down an unknown path and smiling when you realize where you have wandered.' This past week Kamille (my sitemate), her friend Ty, and I did just that. Okay, we knew our destination, but not what we were getting ourselves into. We headed through the tea fields (head lamps and all) down to the house of Alberto, the current President on the Co-op. Having been invited to a gathering it could have been assumed we would all greet each other, quickly eat caldo, and be on our merry way. As Drake would say, 'never pay attention to the rumors and what they assume.' The large wooden home was filled with excited people dressed in clothing ranging from traditional traje to more modern attire, an abundance of food/tortillas and drinks, colorful decorations and a long table up front. On top of the table lay a number of masks, ranging from a tiger to deer.
Following a number of speeches, a large meal (despite insisting we were thankful, but had already eaten... always come to eat!) and a performance on the marimba the b'oj was served. B'oj is a fermented sugar-cane drink, which logically varies in strength depending on the period of fermentation. Normally a conservative community, the b'oj was flowing, the music was playing, and even cigarettes were smoked as part of the ceremony. We then all proceeded out to the front of the beneficio, miramba and all, where the men took part in the dance of the deer. This took place directly next to the new gravel road funded by Fedecovera (an independent organization working with 36 cooperatives throughout the Verapaces), who were likewise in attendance at the event. Coming up on the corn harvesting season, the dance was symbolic of the correlation and harmony between man and nature. Around midnight, following nearly two hours of dancing, the three of us decided to call it a night. The music continued on well into the night, but this was merely a practice round for the following day's full-costume event at the Fedecovera office in Coban. The actual production was vibrant and colorful, but there was undoubtedly a little extra excitement (a little B'oj in the step of the dancers if you will) that Wednesday night we decided to venture out.
It has already been a full month since I took the Peace Corps Oath, the same oath which Joe Biden took some 15 plus months ago, and officially swore in as a Peace Corps volunteer. All I can say is Guatemala is GORGES. The landscape, the volcanoes, the lush green that surround the co-op I work on, just everything. I just returned from a trip to the river, a bit dirty, but extremely fun and refreshing on this day in the mid 90’s. The side of the river is bordered by land of varying heights allowing you to jump into the river from a decent height, immediately reminding me of the gorges I once jumped off in Ithaca, NY.….A flashback that put a smile on my face and warrants this ‘I miss you all and hope things are going well’ to those stateside, or even teaching English in Korea.
You may be thinking in regards to the title… Is that what Evan said when he opened a recent package he received? OMG a Poncho for the rainy season and candy, what great gifts?! In actuality these are just common words thrown around when visiting the neighbors, two of the kids are named Poncho and Dulce (Check out my posted video on Facebook). As I begin to settle into ‘a routine’ I find myself spending a significant chunk of my free time with my neighbors. The mother has ten kids and two of the elder daughters and the eldest son have kids of their own. Throw all these people in one compound, add in a few dogs, two geese, hens and roosters, bunnies and the most happening Churrasco stand in the community and you’ve got my new extended family.
They recently purchased a new chu-cho, a dog they initially named Cooookie. After a handful of biting incidentsand a generally angry ‘tude in his high pitched bark, a general negative consensus about ‘Cookie’ had been formed. The second goal of Peace Corps is helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.. When meeting families and new friends I generally share a little history about my background, education, family and other random tidbits that may be relevant to the individual or situation. One evening I had a long talk with Mary, the eldest daughter, about our perspective families which went on to include mascotas, or pets. Mama Mia came up. It was explained that they thought a cat’s only purpose was to kill mice, not particularly to be a man’s best friend. I talked about how Mama Mia was going through stomach issues and often threw up around the house. This, in conjunction with their preconceived opinions on cats (a black one at that, malo suerte), officially labeled her as BAD. This somehow led into renaming the pesky little dog Papa Pia, as he too is no dessert. This name has stuck and the only name close to cookie left is Chicky, the name of one of the youngest daughters.
Mary runs the Churrasco stand out front, selling a plethora of staples including horchata, arroz con leche, tostadas, fried chicken and frijoles depending on the day. She often feeds me and I’ve already cooked them a meal of meat raviolis (which I was told had a Pizza flavor, fail?). The family speaks Spanish and Qeqchi so they are a great resource for practicing both. Mary knows a bit of English, understanding more than she can speak. I’ve found that Guatemalans love sharing the little bit of English they do know with you at any given chance, which includes the men at the top of the hill in town who regularly shoot me a ‘good morning’ when I am on my way home to sleep.
One of Mary’s favorite phrases is ‘Oh My God’. Having recently discovered the new Usher song, I brought my netbook next door and we sang along. Gloria, the 21 year old daughter is convinced we should make the Ay Dios Mio Guate-Remix. Following this sing-along I pulled out the Guate songs I have (Thanks Jareeau), my favorites being Obsecion y No Hieras Mi Vida (You-Tube them). This past week 6-8 of the kids and I have been going to the local basketball court and playing at night, a definite reminder I need to get bac into shape (gordito en serio). Here are a few pictures I have of the fam:
Work on the Co-op is slowly beginning to progress. One of my central duties right now is learning Qeqchi, the Mayan language in the area. I have begun taken classes, almost up to twenty hours, and I must say it is going to be a difficult task. Learning another foreign language through my second language makes it a three step process, but I have encouragingly realized I am learning just as much Spanish through class. Spanish is now my crutch and English is out the door. Either way I am pretty excited to learn and definitely see the excitement and respect even now when I use basic phrases with those on the Co-op.
“If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.” - Nelson Mandela
… end corny quote. ( Sidenote: ITunes free language podcasts, or other interesting topics for that matter, are an EXCELLENT way to keep up on news and learn while you are relaxing before you fall asleep. Try it out!)
Throughout my first few weeks I have met with the president a couple of times, visited both of the schools on the Co-op, attended a security meeting and also a meeting in Coban for Viviente Verapaz. Viviente Verapaz is the alliance of seven sites of Peace Corps volunteers in Alta Verapaz and Baja Verapaz(1). The site in Baja is the highest waterfall in Central America we visited beforewhich I had previously discussed. We will all be working together to help strengthen our advertising in conjunction with one another, including information at corresponding sites and a V.V. website. This coming week I will spend the first couple days completing our information and deciding on which photos to use for our portion of the web page. I could go on about work related activities, but will do so when things are moving a bit faster. Plus, this post is already sufficiently long and I have a few pictures of the Co-op that attest to the beauty of my location more than any more words can. Jo wan xik, hasta luego, Until later
This is my new address, which ironically is the same box number I had during training at the PC Office. If you ever have magazines, newspapers, music, school supplies, candy or other goodies you can't seem to figure out what to do with send them down my way!
PCV Evan Dembkowski
Cuerpo de Paz
Apartado Postal 66
Coban, Alta Verapaz 16001
Guatemala, Centro Americo
This past fall I spent a week in Florida as a graduation present from my Aunt Michele and Uncle Larry. In between lazy naps on the beach and Coronas with limes, we fit in tidbits of educational material. Somewhere around drinking from the fountain of youth and losing Miss Jessica’s sunglasses, we learned about the history of Florida, in which Ponce de Leon discovered La Florida in 1,513. I’ve always thought Ponce de Leon had a classy ring to it, besides he was the first governor of Puerto Rico. We all know how I secretly wish I was Rican, it would give me an excuse for my sassy tendencies (right?).
Flash-forward to my Guatemalan vida. I just finished eating dinner with my host family, one which I actually cooked myself. Sure it was only eggs with tomatoes and onions, frijoles, and tortillas, but I was able to take and comprehend directions in Spanish fired off quicker than my sprint to the bathroom after a rumble in the tummy. My Spanish is progressing, poco a poco, and will be evaluated again tomorrow. This was supposed to take place today, but there has been a strike with the camionetas, or “chicken bus” drivers and workers, due to the high number of violence and lack of government support in stopping it. If I am not at the upper intermediate level I will have to take three more weeks of intensive classes before officially heading out to my site. This would be a bummer, but if it is the case I’m sure it will help me out down the line in being more productive in site.
As the days dwindle down with my host-family, actually few enough to count on one hand, I am fully aware of how much I will miss them. I’m now accustomed to talking sports and human rights issues with Don Jaime, walking hand in hand with Dona and the kids to Church on Sunday (and of course shushing them or stopping them from doing their classic tap the man in front of them and then look away act), having the kids call me for meals, and even Grandpa’s horse next to the shower, flies and all. I even get a besito from Andrea before bed each night. This sense of community and integration are aspects I aspire to incorporate into my two remaining years at my new site. Nearly fifteen months ago, how time flies, I faced a difficult decision, taking the education route or small business development. I chose to take advantage of my degree and go the sustainable business route, weary of the possibility of struggles in putting time into the areas of relationships, community and children ….beyond the marketing plan and gross income.
Focus back to the Atlantic and the Santa Maria led by the one and only Evan de Leon. The TeaCo-op community was quick to coin me as such, besides the President who calls me “Mr. Leon.” Throughout my four day visit the current volunteer was able to show me the spark-notes version of how things run; the marketing and promotion contacts in Coban, the president and vice… etc. at the Co-op, my counterpart and the other tour guides, the drying and packaging facility, even my office I will be working in. I am fortunate enough to be replacing a volunteer and am inheriting their current apartment where I will live for at least the next three months. The room for tour growth/ guide training, improvement in the joint tourism promotion for Alta Verapaz and potential in the German ruins on the land that date back to the 1800’s are just a few of those I noticed in my short time.
One thing which was encouragingly prevalent was the sense of community and ability to balance business and income strategy with that of relationship building and cultural exchange. In just the four days we ate meals with a handful of families throughout the co-op, typically a soup with a meat and occasionally rice. Some unique interchanges included taking part in a family Mayan blessing of a newly purchased cow, watching a group of eight brothers play the marimba in sync for us following a delicious meal in their home, and visiting the local school. The past volunteer worked a significant amount with the local school, something I hope to continue on after he leaves. Almost every member in the community and workplace knew their name and greeted them as we walked by, or even from down in the field or through their window. This is a testament to their effort in reaching out to the community. Despite the endless goodbyes, the current volunteer never seemed to get chocked up about leaving, just a part of their personality.
On my last day of site visit we were biking through the trail when we stopped to say goodbye to a family that they had become close with throughout their service. The father of the family had been an unofficial counterpart to the volunteer, always lending a helping hand and providing sound advice and input. He had become ill over the past year with what is highly believed to be cancer. In a failed attempt with good intentions, the volunteer had paid about a month’s salary to a proclaimed health professional who had set-up work in town. After fronting the money himself, following an assessment with ‘scheduled’ transport to the capital, the man fled with money in hand. The father has not been able to take down solid food in months and lay emaciated and struggling on his plywood bed when we arrived. Trying to communicate (in Q'eqchí,), but receiving no response the volunteer burst into tears, running to the arms of the group who have become his family. Sitting there on a wooden bench next to the struggling man, a tear subtly trickled down my check and onto the dirt floor. My first cry in Guatemala. Not from homesickness, or the scrape I endured from my bike incident, or from the scary dreams and restless sleep the malaria meds have given me, but from the helplessness engulfed in genuine love.
Yesterday all 45 trainees received our sites. The Healthy School (ES) and Sustainable Community Tourism (TCS) broke off accordingly and met with our APCD, or program director. Following a speech concerning the next steps, safety, and our training process we were each blindfolded, eagerly awaiting our location for the next 24 months. After each of our names were called out we were slowly guided to our final destinations on a life size map of Guate. Thick folder of info in hand we waited until everyone else had done the same. Possible brief inappropriate touches to recognize a neighbor, 'who coughs that way' thoughts, and attentiveness to every possible blind detail crossed our minds . Finally, we removed our blindfolds and were able to see our locations, sites and distance from friends we have gotten to know over the past two and a half months.
My site is in Alta Verapaz. Located around Coban, I will spend my next two years working at the Tea Co-op. My site holds 22,000 inhabitants (nearly 95% indigenous Q'eqchí) and a temprano-humid climate with an average temperature around 67-68. I will be spending next week at my site, working with my counterpart in order to establish an idea of what my life will entail through 2012. Current expressed needs in site include improving touristic services and the management capacities, establishing a promotion and marketing strategy and increasing environmental awareness and education within the school and local government. Listed secondary needs include English lessons, VIH- SIDA (HIV- AIDS) awareness and lessons or training in advanced technology, internet/ establishing a website.
I will have much more updated information after my visit next week where I will hopefully establish my housing and other basic needs. Talking to some current volunteers I have been told Alta Verapaz is a 'frat' department, number heavy in male volunteers. From my group Jordan (Rochester), Winfrey, Fife, Chad and Alex have all been placed in this region. Although this is the case, Alex and Chad are way up near Mexico, all of our sites vary drastically. Either way I am excited to begin my two years of service and face the struggles and opportunities that await me. I wear my AV letters proud (bro?).
"If you have come here to help me, then you are wasting your time. But if you have come here because your liberation is bound up within mine, then let us work together." - Lilla Watson
