Field based training has already come and gone. I can’t believe it! Field based training is an exciting, action-packed week in which a group of trainees go off to visit volunteers’ sites while having hands-on experiences.
Monday
Unlike the other groups, our Quetzaltenango group had to do our individual classroom presentations to kids first thing Monday morning. One of the volunteers, Sarah, took us to her favorite school, and we all did a 15 minute activity with a different class. I did a brief trash management activity and discussion that went relatively well. Later on that day, we visited the women’s group with which Sarah had been working. This was by far the highlight to the day and quite possibly, the week (sadly, it’s biggest competition is lots of fart/poop jokes--try to understand the vast intake of beans daily).
Marta, our AMAZING Guatemalan technical trainer, drove us out in the microbus to one of the women’s home. It was my first REAL experience with poverty so far. While a lot of people are poor, a lot of them still have their basic necessities--water and food. There were about 25 women present, the youngest being a girl of about 12 and the oldest seeming to be in the late 60s though age is quite difficult to tell due to living rough lives. Most of the women didn’t speak Spanish so a few of them did the translating. We started off doing a silly icebreaker of saying “In the morning, I wake up and wash my (insert fruit here but motion a body party).” The women were so shy and easily embarrassed, but it worked out well.
Since the theme of this meeting was stress, the activity was to draw a main source of one's stress on a little piece of paper and present it to everyone. Most of the women are illiterate so they were not used to writing or drawing, but they still seemed to manage. As they presented in Spanish and K'iche', they revealed their problems humbly with smiles on their faces--they had no money, not enough food, no water, their husbands had died, the men in their family drink too much, and their children had left them. As the trainees presented their causes of stress, we focused on worrying about family back home, worrying about being successful in work, and worrying about life after Peace Corps. The differences amongst our causes of stress were stark, putting things in perspective. These women were rightfully stressed out for very immediate reasons or problems that lingered as a result of the past. Our issues all had to deal with uncontrollable preoccupations about the future. When the 12 year old girl went up to present and solemnly stated, “I drew a table because we have no food,” all of the women laughed. I felt so silly, so privileged, so helpless. It made me realize that worrying about the future is a luxury when you’re just trying to survive.
After the meeting, they gave us all tamalitos, a cornmeal dough with meat in the middle, that is wrapped in a corn husk and boiled. I think we all felt ridiculous accepting two tamalitos (or a platter of fruit in my case) when we knew that these women had difficulty feeding themselves and their families, but it would have been a very strong insult to reject any food or drink that they wanted to give us. After finishing up, we sang several children’s songs and laughed with the women as we were all squished into a small adobe meeting room.
I’ve been really excited about working with women’s groups to help empower women in a very machista culture. The very simplicity of giving these women a forum to discuss their problems is such a small thing, but a necessary way to start change. Studying at university and reading theoretical books about women’s liberation is so large scale. The women thanked us and Sarah, the volunteer, for sharing and helping them. They mentioned how her cooking classes have allowed for them to bake cakes and other goods to sell to people. It’s the very small, seemingly minute things that can make all the difference.
The rest of the week, we helped do a Training of Trainers (TOT) to a group of teachers at a teacher’s high school. The subject was classroom management since most schools in Guatemala have very lax, if any, rules for the classroom. I also did a 15 minute teeth brushing activity with parents at a parent-teacher meeting. In between all of that, we visited two municipal buildings, a health center, three other schools, met the superintendents, etc. At one of the schools, I ended up playing in a heated game of basketball with some 12 year old girls. Despite the fact that they were wearing the traditional corte (dress) and heels, these girls were tearing it up! It was some of the most fun I had all week.
One of the main ideas that I’m getting from this is that every site is different. One of the districts that our volunteer leaders were working with only receives water every 15 days or so, which is a major improvement from the previous 28 days. When communities don’t have access to water (this isn’t even to say it’s potable), they are unable to wash their hands to prevent illnesses such a diarrhea, which can lead to malnutrition and developmental disorders. It’s crazy to think that such a small thing as washing your hands can be so crucial. In the same vein, lack of water also means the inability to maintain proper dental health, which can once again be related to malnutrition when teeth aren’t strong enough to eat certain foods. I have never had to personally struggle with accessing water or clean water until moving to Guatemala, where it can be an everyday struggle for thousands of people.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Culture Culture Culture
Looking at what I’ve addressed thus far in this blog, I realize that I haven’t directly discussed what I’ve been doing with Peace Corps. Our training consists of almost daily language lessons; weekly common sessions to learn about medical, security, and financial information; and technical sessions in which we learn more about our field and adult learning methodologies. 
This is coupled with the fact that everyday I’m living and breathing Guatemalan culture from the most mundane to sacred happenings. At times I’m amused at how readily I’ve adapted certain practices, forgetting what my initial reaction was or how it’s different from American culture. It’s the study abroad experience that I had dreamed of--actually being integrated into the family and everyday life.
I’m excited to be working in my program, Health Schools. Our goals are to 1-get participating students to practice healthy habits, and 2-for each school to have the sanitation conditions to practice healthy habits (oh, another bomba just went off). Instead of me going to schools and teaching kids directly, I will be training and facilitating with teachers, parents, and community organizations so that it is a sustainable effort. The more I learn about Guatemala’s issues with malnutrition, water, and disease, the more excited I get to be part of an effort to give people the resources to deal with these issues themselves. We’ve been doing lots of reading and practice activities to learn about adult learning methods, and it’s all quite fascinating, encouraging, and fun. My site mates and I have already done a few of our first big projects. One of them involved doing several activities with youth in our community. Ultimately, we had them draw and describe their community, explaining what the liked and disliked, and what they wanted. A lot of their ideas involved caring for the environment--don’t throw trash in the river, don’t burn garbage--and also to give more scholarships for kids to go to better schools or have money to pay for books. These answers came from kids ages 8-12. I was pleasantly surprised by the answers and excited to begin to get to know the community better. Though I won’t be working in this community for long, it’s still exciting to see general ideas and the future possibilities.
This is coupled with the fact that everyday I’m living and breathing Guatemalan culture from the most mundane to sacred happenings. At times I’m amused at how readily I’ve adapted certain practices, forgetting what my initial reaction was or how it’s different from American culture. It’s the study abroad experience that I had dreamed of--actually being integrated into the family and everyday life.
I’m excited to be working in my program, Health Schools. Our goals are to 1-get participating students to practice healthy habits, and 2-for each school to have the sanitation conditions to practice healthy habits (oh, another bomba just went off). Instead of me going to schools and teaching kids directly, I will be training and facilitating with teachers, parents, and community organizations so that it is a sustainable effort. The more I learn about Guatemala’s issues with malnutrition, water, and disease, the more excited I get to be part of an effort to give people the resources to deal with these issues themselves. We’ve been doing lots of reading and practice activities to learn about adult learning methods, and it’s all quite fascinating, encouraging, and fun. My site mates and I have already done a few of our first big projects. One of them involved doing several activities with youth in our community. Ultimately, we had them draw and describe their community, explaining what the liked and disliked, and what they wanted. A lot of their ideas involved caring for the environment--don’t throw trash in the river, don’t burn garbage--and also to give more scholarships for kids to go to better schools or have money to pay for books. These answers came from kids ages 8-12. I was pleasantly surprised by the answers and excited to begin to get to know the community better. Though I won’t be working in this community for long, it’s still exciting to see general ideas and the future possibilities.
Fiesta!
This past weekend was my aldea’s (town) Convite, a large party in the community to celebrate the patron saint. Every town celebrates their festival sometime in January, filling the month with local parties, concerts, religious processions, and dances. When I first heard that a dance was going to stop in our town, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. There are a bun
ch of different dances for the festivities. One of them is a bunch of young people dressed up as cartoon characters in huge costumes, performing a choreographed dance. This is an all day event in which the group walks from town to town, stopping at someone’s house (my house here!) to have a snack and a drink before moving to the next town in the municipality. The dances aren’t anything crazy, but it’s pretty impressive to see forty dancing bears, pigs, bunnies, etc. doing a synchronized dance on a hot day. My favorite group of dancers through was “Las Viejas,” which had a bunch of younger girls and women dressed up wearing older women’s clothes and wearing masks, dancing as old women. I saw another version of this one with old men dressed up as old women. That one was a little less choreographed and a little more drunk. In their defense, it was late. The last dance that happens, the Fieros, is not choreographed but more so a big moving dance party (usually populated by drunk men dressed as women). This traveling dance party comes with a large live band that plays at a shockingly loud volume from a huge trailer and another truck that just carries speakers. All of these dances move to different locations throughout the municipality during the weekend.
As for the religious procession, depending on the size of the town, there are usually one to five floats that show passages from the Bible. My town just had one for the Virgin. Before the processions, people cover the streets with pine needles to show their faith and gratitude that they are passing by their home. In addition to that, they set off lots and LOTS of firecrackers and “bombas.” I have never seen more firecrackers in my life than last night. It was quite remarkable! My family had bought a huge circle of firecrackers (about two feet wide in diameter) that unwound with bombas throughout. When they lit it, everyone got inside the courtyard of our house and practically shut the door since the firecrackers went off for a few minutes. The procession didn’t get too far until the next house set off another slew of firecrackers and bombas. Colorful fireworks flew into the sky as more ash floated back down to the join the gray, dusty explosives’ remains.
Not too far down the street in the plaza, a the band had started playing again for the third time. Had I not been outside, I would have had to question whether or not they were playing directly in front of my house. Nope, just some typical Guatemalan music at a typical volume. One time for a homework assignment, I had to ask my host family to describe normal Guatemalan behavior. My host mom and sister laughed and told me, “You listen to music so that the neighbors can hear.” It’s true!
It’s sad to think that the month of fiestas has now passed, but Lent is coming up, which means a whole new slew of other religious festivals and traditions to observe. I was told that they don’t use too many firecrackers during Lent though. I’ll have to keep you updated.
ch of different dances for the festivities. One of them is a bunch of young people dressed up as cartoon characters in huge costumes, performing a choreographed dance. This is an all day event in which the group walks from town to town, stopping at someone’s house (my house here!) to have a snack and a drink before moving to the next town in the municipality. The dances aren’t anything crazy, but it’s pretty impressive to see forty dancing bears, pigs, bunnies, etc. doing a synchronized dance on a hot day. My favorite group of dancers through was “Las Viejas,” which had a bunch of younger girls and women dressed up wearing older women’s clothes and wearing masks, dancing as old women. I saw another version of this one with old men dressed up as old women. That one was a little less choreographed and a little more drunk. In their defense, it was late. The last dance that happens, the Fieros, is not choreographed but more so a big moving dance party (usually populated by drunk men dressed as women). This traveling dance party comes with a large live band that plays at a shockingly loud volume from a huge trailer and another truck that just carries speakers. All of these dances move to different locations throughout the municipality during the weekend.
As for the religious procession, depending on the size of the town, there are usually one to five floats that show passages from the Bible. My town just had one for the Virgin. Before the processions, people cover the streets with pine needles to show their faith and gratitude that they are passing by their home. In addition to that, they set off lots and LOTS of firecrackers and “bombas.” I have never seen more firecrackers in my life than last night. It was quite remarkable! My family had bought a huge circle of firecrackers (about two feet wide in diameter) that unwound with bombas throughout. When they lit it, everyone got inside the courtyard of our house and practically shut the door since the firecrackers went off for a few minutes. The procession didn’t get too far until the next house set off another slew of firecrackers and bombas. Colorful fireworks flew into the sky as more ash floated back down to the join the gray, dusty explosives’ remains.
Not too far down the street in the plaza, a the band had started playing again for the third time. Had I not been outside, I would have had to question whether or not they were playing directly in front of my house. Nope, just some typical Guatemalan music at a typical volume. One time for a homework assignment, I had to ask my host family to describe normal Guatemalan behavior. My host mom and sister laughed and told me, “You listen to music so that the neighbors can hear.” It’s true!
It’s sad to think that the month of fiestas has now passed, but Lent is coming up, which means a whole new slew of other religious festivals and traditions to observe. I was told that they don’t use too many firecrackers during Lent though. I’ll have to keep you updated.
Birthday Chapina!
In anticipation of my birthday, my host mother, Dona Susana, inquired what I would like for my special meal, offering up pizza as an option. I greeted her suggestion with a most enthusiastic “SI!” Before I could get to the pizza though, I had a long day at the Peace Corps office sitting through a security session, medical session, technical training, another vaccine, bank account information,
a video about the war in Guatemala, and so forth. Despite the constant flow of information, one of my friends brought me a hideous red headband with feathers and antennas attached to wear. It was my special day for sure.
After a mishap getting off at the wrong bus stop on the way home, Sam, my fabulous training site mate, and I walked to the nearest bus station to meet up with the rest of our group. My friends ended up buying half a chocolate cake from a local bakery where the lady kept trying to get us to buy the whole cake since she didn‘t want to cut it--charging us for the box since we didn’t. No worries though since the huge half came out to be the equivalent of $5 USD. What a deal!
After a super long day, we finally returned home, relaxed for a bit, and then my friends came over for dinner. I helped my host family make the pizza with olives, onions, red peppers, basil, canned mushrooms, tomato sauce, and what I’m pretty sure was American cheese. The other pizza for non-vegetarians was covered in ham and some sort of bologna. Lets just say that I am constantly reaffirmed of my vegetarianism. The pizza was DELICIOUS! It must have been a horrific sight to have witnessed me inhaling the meal with such vigor. There were also a huge platter of refried beans, a ton of extra bread and tortillas, hot chocolate, and some queso fresco. What a feast!
Wilson, the three year old, was dying to hit the Winnie the Pooh pinata that was bought in my honor so we moved outside and began the second half of the party. Every time one of my twin host brothers pulled the rope to bring the pinata up, Wilson would spin around, propelled from his momentous swing, surprised and annoyed that he had been fooled again. Having a three year old around always keeps things interesting and lends to many of my stories starting off with, “It was so cute when Wilson…” We helped ourselves to some candy once Wilson ripped off Pooh’s leg and moved back into the dining room to eat the birthday cake.
What would a birthday cake be without singing Happy Birthday though? I had heard my family sing the song in English before, but when we asked them what language to do it in, they denied knowing English, replying “No, no, no! We only know it in Spanish.” Upon saying that, they broke into singing “Happy birthday to you”--in English. Granted, this version also had a few Spanish verses, but only upon going through the whole entire song. We laughed, ate cake, and then lamented how “satisfecho” we were. My friends ended up giving me a beautiful woven purse that I had been eyeing and a thoughtful card. Throughout the night and before I went to bed, Dona Susana and Brenda, my host sister, asked me if I had enjoyed my birthday and if I was happy. How could I not be? They had gone above and beyond to ensure that I had a great day. Dona Susana said that it must be hard to be away from my family and friends, but said that they loved me and were glad that I was there. Everyday I’m more impressed, touched, and grateful to have been welcomed into the home of such a warm family.
a video about the war in Guatemala, and so forth. Despite the constant flow of information, one of my friends brought me a hideous red headband with feathers and antennas attached to wear. It was my special day for sure.
After a mishap getting off at the wrong bus stop on the way home, Sam, my fabulous training site mate, and I walked to the nearest bus station to meet up with the rest of our group. My friends ended up buying half a chocolate cake from a local bakery where the lady kept trying to get us to buy the whole cake since she didn‘t want to cut it--charging us for the box since we didn’t. No worries though since the huge half came out to be the equivalent of $5 USD. What a deal!
After a super long day, we finally returned home, relaxed for a bit, and then my friends came over for dinner. I helped my host family make the pizza with olives, onions, red peppers, basil, canned mushrooms, tomato sauce, and what I’m pretty sure was American cheese. The other pizza for non-vegetarians was covered in ham and some sort of bologna. Lets just say that I am constantly reaffirmed of my vegetarianism. The pizza was DELICIOUS! It must have been a horrific sight to have witnessed me inhaling the meal with such vigor. There were also a huge platter of refried beans, a ton of extra bread and tortillas, hot chocolate, and some queso fresco. What a feast!
Wilson, the three year old, was dying to hit the Winnie the Pooh pinata that was bought in my honor so we moved outside and began the second half of the party. Every time one of my twin host brothers pulled the rope to bring the pinata up, Wilson would spin around, propelled from his momentous swing, surprised and annoyed that he had been fooled again. Having a three year old around always keeps things interesting and lends to many of my stories starting off with, “It was so cute when Wilson…” We helped ourselves to some candy once Wilson ripped off Pooh’s leg and moved back into the dining room to eat the birthday cake.
What would a birthday cake be without singing Happy Birthday though? I had heard my family sing the song in English before, but when we asked them what language to do it in, they denied knowing English, replying “No, no, no! We only know it in Spanish.” Upon saying that, they broke into singing “Happy birthday to you”--in English. Granted, this version also had a few Spanish verses, but only upon going through the whole entire song. We laughed, ate cake, and then lamented how “satisfecho” we were. My friends ended up giving me a beautiful woven purse that I had been eyeing and a thoughtful card. Throughout the night and before I went to bed, Dona Susana and Brenda, my host sister, asked me if I had enjoyed my birthday and if I was happy. How could I not be? They had gone above and beyond to ensure that I had a great day. Dona Susana said that it must be hard to be away from my family and friends, but said that they loved me and were glad that I was there. Everyday I’m more impressed, touched, and grateful to have been welcomed into the home of such a warm family.
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