Sidney's and my host family and the Ambassador to Guatemala.
Officially a volunteer!
Someday I will rule the world.
Youth Development and Rural Home Preventive Health volunteers.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
This is my house. My bedroom is on the bottom level.
The view of the back yard before all of the corn was cut down.
Chickens
Eli had 9 chickens that she fed almost everyday. Occasionally, she would exclaim that she had forgotten about them for the past day or two. Because of this they were growing at a slow rate and still were not producing eggs. However, this past month she had been feeding them religiously as she was fattening them up for Christmas dinner. She was going to cook 3 or 4 of them depending on if her son and his family could make it out here. She said the chickens would start giving eggs within the next week or so. Since we eat eggs everyday for dinner this would greatly help the food bill if the chickens were laying.
They had the kind of chickens that have no neck feathers, just bare naked skin. These kind are quite ugly, but apparently tasty. They also had a lovely fat orange chicken who was completely covered in feathers. She loved to peck in Eli's flower bed. I always could forgive for it her because she was just so pretty.
As I opened my bedroom door yesterday morning, barely awake enough to say good morning in Spanish, Benjamin ran up to me and shouted, "Someone stole all the chickens!!! Come see!" We trekked out to the shed and sure enough someone had torn apart the bamboo door (which was really unnecessary, they could have unfastened it and opened it) and taken every single chicken. My first thought was OH Nooooo! CHRISTMAS DINNER! When I asked Benjamin how it made him feel when people stole from him he just shrugged his shoulders and laughed. Eli did the same thing. There is nowhere to go and no one to talk to when you are robbed. There is nothing to do here, but shrug your shoulders and say, "oh well." Eli said now she will have to buy chickens for Christmas dinner. This just about broke my heart. After all that hard work she lost everything. The 9 chickens were worth about 450 Quetzales, which is a substantial sum of money here.
This isn't the first time all of her chickens had been stolen, but it might be the last. She said that she has no desire to raise chickens again since they will only get stolen.
They had the kind of chickens that have no neck feathers, just bare naked skin. These kind are quite ugly, but apparently tasty. They also had a lovely fat orange chicken who was completely covered in feathers. She loved to peck in Eli's flower bed. I always could forgive for it her because she was just so pretty.
As I opened my bedroom door yesterday morning, barely awake enough to say good morning in Spanish, Benjamin ran up to me and shouted, "Someone stole all the chickens!!! Come see!" We trekked out to the shed and sure enough someone had torn apart the bamboo door (which was really unnecessary, they could have unfastened it and opened it) and taken every single chicken. My first thought was OH Nooooo! CHRISTMAS DINNER! When I asked Benjamin how it made him feel when people stole from him he just shrugged his shoulders and laughed. Eli did the same thing. There is nowhere to go and no one to talk to when you are robbed. There is nothing to do here, but shrug your shoulders and say, "oh well." Eli said now she will have to buy chickens for Christmas dinner. This just about broke my heart. After all that hard work she lost everything. The 9 chickens were worth about 450 Quetzales, which is a substantial sum of money here.
This isn't the first time all of her chickens had been stolen, but it might be the last. She said that she has no desire to raise chickens again since they will only get stolen.
Bunnies
When I came to my site I first met my family and soon after the bunnies. There were 4 rabbits. One, a skinny tan and white lady with a pretty pink nose used to hop into the house and eat lunch with us. Everyday at lunch time she knew to sneak into the house. We would forget about her until we heard her munching on cabbage and carrots and potatoes peels. She always kept a watchful eye on us, as though she was ready to run at any minute. My host mom Eli, would leave food scraps in a bowl so that throughout the day the tan bunny could come and go as she pleased. They even made her bedding in the kitchen so on cold nights she could sleep inside. While the tan rabbit lived the bunny life, the spotted brown, black and white one was nursing her 5 little conejitos (bunnies.) New born bunnies are hideous. My family describes them best, says they are puro raton (pure rats.) However, after a week they grow soft bunny hair and their little bunny eyes open and their tiny bunny ears stick up and they are just about the cutest things under the sun.
The other dark gray and white rabbit was forced to live in a small cage with Benjamin’s bunny. His bunny was the fattest of them all, an enormous rabbit. Eli would send Benjamin to feed the bunnies with food scraps and he would feed his bunny and his bunny only. Therefore it grew plump and large and delicious. One day, we realized that the skinny tan and white bunny wasn’t so skinny any more and that she was going to have her own bunch of little ratones. So Benjamin’s bunny had the luck of moving to the shed where Eli makes tortillas. It now had space to jump and hide and eat and burrow. Although all the tan rabbit's bunnies died for some mysterious reason one after another, Benjamin's rabbit was allowed to stay in the shed. For 2 months it lived happily
in the shed, eating bits of maiz (tortilla dough) and growing ever fatter. I came home from school one afternoon and was surprised not to find Benjamin waiting for me with another tail of cars and crashes and killing animals and fights. When I asked where he was Eli told me that he was sulking for the neighbors had eaten his bunny! The bunny had been hopping about outside, contently eating away when the neighbors saw it and decided it would be a good dinner. They claim they thought it was a wild rabbit, but I’m not to sure about that. For days Benjamin cried and cried. On the fourth day of his rabbit's death Eli went to tortillar as normal. As she was forming her perfectly round tortillas out of the corner of her eye she saw a little baby bunny crawling amongst the firewood. Benjamin's rabbit had left behind 5 little babies under the brick oven. Their eyes still hadn't opened, but they were so hungry that they left their nest in search of food. Eli and family nursed them back to health with maiz sugar water. Once again we have little conejitos. I rather love little bunnies. Once they grow large they aren't so entertaining, but luckily rabbits seem to constantly procrea
te and we always have bunnies.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
In Site!
San Cristobal, Alta Verapaz.
I have moved to my site, where I will be for the next 2 years, up in the department of Alta Verapaz. Unlike the western-highlands, Alta Verapaz is warm and unpopulated and rugged. However, San Cristobal has a population of 66,000 people, including all of the townships. This means there is an amazing market with everything from mangos to apples, tomatoes to avocados, pasta to conditioner, and deodorant to cheese! An old European, white, large Catholic church over looks the square and all town activity buzzes to the sound of the bells.
I live in a “colony,” about a half an hour walk from the center of town off of a dirt road. The only houses on this road belong to the same family. It is peaceful and beautiful and almost like home. The chickens crow throughout the day and the cow moos whenever he feels like it. I wonder at what he can be mooing at 3 in the morning. There are 2 goats that have some mischievous plan in mind. Each time I walk pass them I can see them scheming. With each breeze roses perfume the air. There is also a crocodile and 3 turtles that live in an encaged man made pond. From the water he watches me walk to town each day. His evil eyes barely above the water.
Each day the afternoon rains fall feeding the green, fertile land. My host family grows bananas, corn, coffee, wisquil, limes, peaches, potatoes, roses, and sturdy, free-spirited children.
Each night I practice making tortillas. It looks so easy that I thought I would be ready to open up my tortilla shop in no time.
Tortillas del Rey. (King Tortillas.)
I could almost see it.
My first attempt was a humbling experience. The tortillas I make resemble stars and hearts. They are holey and bumpy and take twice as long to make as the perfectly round ones my host mother whips out. We cook them outside over a fire. As I toss the dough back and forth the chickens dance around my feet waiting for the bits of dough that inevitably fall from my hands. The tortilla cooking shack overlooks their corn field. Right now the corn is taller than I am and it is almost as tall as the peach tree that is covered in wisquil vines.
I mostly eat beans and eggs and freshly made tortillas. This may sound boring, but I love beans!! We eat them whole or liquefied. Sometimes dinner is just a plate of beans and tortillas, and I am completely satisfied.
My host mom serves tasty hot drinks, in addition to the coffee that they grow, pick, dry, roast, grind and brew.
I have included the recipes for my favorite drinks. I don’t know the exact proportions, but you should be able to figure it out if you want to make any of these. Also there is a recipe for Pepian, one of the traditional foods, and for fried plantains.
Plantain Hot Drink
Chopped plantains
Cinnamon sticks
Sugar
Water
Place all ingredients in a pot and boil until plantains are mushy and the sugar dissolves. Serve the drink with the chopped plantains in the cup.
Papaya Hot Drink
Chopped bits of papaya
Cinnamon sticks
Sugar
Water
Place all ingredients in a pot and boil until the papaya is mushy and the sugar dissolves. Serve the drink with the bits of papaya.
Chocolate Atole
3 cups water
About 3 or 4 ounces of sweetened chocolate. (Needs to be pure chocolate, no Hershey bars.) Chocolate chips would work too. Add more chocolate if desired.
Cinnamon sticks broken up.
Dash of salt
1 cup white rice
Cook rice with cinnamon. When done add chocolate. Cook until chocolate has melted. Add more water if necessary. The drink should be like a runny porridge.
Pepian
• 1 bunch cilantro, whole stalk, uncut
• 10 small potatoes (lemon-lime size)
• 3 lb chicken - legs, thighs and breasts (will need longer cooking time d/o thickness of pieces!)
• 4 cups water
• 4 plum tomatoes, unpeeled
• 1 Onion, white quartered
• 2 garlic cloves- whole
• 2 chiles guac (dried red, large)
• 2 chiles pasas (dried blackish)
• 1/2 cup cilantro chopped
• 2T flour
Place uncut cilantro, potatoes, Chicken and 4 cups water in large pan.
In separate uncovered, dry skillet, brown chiles and chopped cilantro for about 15 minutes.
Transfer this to small pot and cover with water, add tomatoes, garlic, white Onion.
Soak this mixture for 15 minutes then liquefy with blender.
Cook chicken, potatoes, cilantro for 30 minutes, or until chicken is nearly done, then add chile mixture.
Cook 10 minutes then add 2T flour to thicken.
Cook additional 5-10 minutes.
Should be liquidy with pieces of chicken and whole potatoes.
Serve with Rice. The rice normally has bits of cooked carrot bits, onions, narrow strips of red bell pepper, and green peas in it. It is all cooked together.
Fried Plantains
Slice Plantains, length wise or diagonally, into ½ inch strips.
Fry in oil.
Done when crispy on both sides.
Can be topped with sugar or served as is.
I have moved to my site, where I will be for the next 2 years, up in the department of Alta Verapaz. Unlike the western-highlands, Alta Verapaz is warm and unpopulated and rugged. However, San Cristobal has a population of 66,000 people, including all of the townships. This means there is an amazing market with everything from mangos to apples, tomatoes to avocados, pasta to conditioner, and deodorant to cheese! An old European, white, large Catholic church over looks the square and all town activity buzzes to the sound of the bells.
I live in a “colony,” about a half an hour walk from the center of town off of a dirt road. The only houses on this road belong to the same family. It is peaceful and beautiful and almost like home. The chickens crow throughout the day and the cow moos whenever he feels like it. I wonder at what he can be mooing at 3 in the morning. There are 2 goats that have some mischievous plan in mind. Each time I walk pass them I can see them scheming. With each breeze roses perfume the air. There is also a crocodile and 3 turtles that live in an encaged man made pond. From the water he watches me walk to town each day. His evil eyes barely above the water.
Each day the afternoon rains fall feeding the green, fertile land. My host family grows bananas, corn, coffee, wisquil, limes, peaches, potatoes, roses, and sturdy, free-spirited children.
Each night I practice making tortillas. It looks so easy that I thought I would be ready to open up my tortilla shop in no time.
Tortillas del Rey. (King Tortillas.)
I could almost see it.
My first attempt was a humbling experience. The tortillas I make resemble stars and hearts. They are holey and bumpy and take twice as long to make as the perfectly round ones my host mother whips out. We cook them outside over a fire. As I toss the dough back and forth the chickens dance around my feet waiting for the bits of dough that inevitably fall from my hands. The tortilla cooking shack overlooks their corn field. Right now the corn is taller than I am and it is almost as tall as the peach tree that is covered in wisquil vines.
I mostly eat beans and eggs and freshly made tortillas. This may sound boring, but I love beans!! We eat them whole or liquefied. Sometimes dinner is just a plate of beans and tortillas, and I am completely satisfied.
My host mom serves tasty hot drinks, in addition to the coffee that they grow, pick, dry, roast, grind and brew.
I have included the recipes for my favorite drinks. I don’t know the exact proportions, but you should be able to figure it out if you want to make any of these. Also there is a recipe for Pepian, one of the traditional foods, and for fried plantains.
Plantain Hot Drink
Chopped plantains
Cinnamon sticks
Sugar
Water
Place all ingredients in a pot and boil until plantains are mushy and the sugar dissolves. Serve the drink with the chopped plantains in the cup.
Papaya Hot Drink
Chopped bits of papaya
Cinnamon sticks
Sugar
Water
Place all ingredients in a pot and boil until the papaya is mushy and the sugar dissolves. Serve the drink with the bits of papaya.
Chocolate Atole
3 cups water
About 3 or 4 ounces of sweetened chocolate. (Needs to be pure chocolate, no Hershey bars.) Chocolate chips would work too. Add more chocolate if desired.
Cinnamon sticks broken up.
Dash of salt
1 cup white rice
Cook rice with cinnamon. When done add chocolate. Cook until chocolate has melted. Add more water if necessary. The drink should be like a runny porridge.
Pepian
• 1 bunch cilantro, whole stalk, uncut
• 10 small potatoes (lemon-lime size)
• 3 lb chicken - legs, thighs and breasts (will need longer cooking time d/o thickness of pieces!)
• 4 cups water
• 4 plum tomatoes, unpeeled
• 1 Onion, white quartered
• 2 garlic cloves- whole
• 2 chiles guac (dried red, large)
• 2 chiles pasas (dried blackish)
• 1/2 cup cilantro chopped
• 2T flour
Place uncut cilantro, potatoes, Chicken and 4 cups water in large pan.
In separate uncovered, dry skillet, brown chiles and chopped cilantro for about 15 minutes.
Transfer this to small pot and cover with water, add tomatoes, garlic, white Onion.
Soak this mixture for 15 minutes then liquefy with blender.
Cook chicken, potatoes, cilantro for 30 minutes, or until chicken is nearly done, then add chile mixture.
Cook 10 minutes then add 2T flour to thicken.
Cook additional 5-10 minutes.
Should be liquidy with pieces of chicken and whole potatoes.
Serve with Rice. The rice normally has bits of cooked carrot bits, onions, narrow strips of red bell pepper, and green peas in it. It is all cooked together.
Fried Plantains
Slice Plantains, length wise or diagonally, into ½ inch strips.
Fry in oil.
Done when crispy on both sides.
Can be topped with sugar or served as is.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I have an allergy
Lots of the Peace Corps Trainees have encountered fun fun fun. Usually in the form of diarrhea, not making it to the toilet with diarrhea, parasites that cause vomiting and diarrhea, amoebas that move around inside, or fleas that eat them alive. I was considering myself particularly lucky I had not received any of these treats. Actually, I was taking pleasure in all of their stories and body displays of the circus show. It was hilarious, especially since I wasn't effected. This proved to be baaaad karma because I won bed mates. Fleas. or Pulgas in Spanish.
Fleas.
I have fleas.
When I think about it I see the Charlie Brown character with the dirt blanket and the dust billowing around him. He had fleas, he must have. Alas.
I told my family about my problem hoping they would have advice or a cure or experience with this little (literally) problem. They were horrified and claimed they have never had any fleas in their house. I felt terrible and empathized with their disgust. If someone told me they had fleas and were living in my house I'd be off put too. Gross. Right? However, my family didn't have any ideas to help me. I decided to take care of it myself, by hoping they would eventually go away. I am Peace Corps. I can handle it.
Not the most proactive approach.
After a week of being eaten alive during the night, not getting any sleep, and developing the most depressed and irritable mood I again brought up the subject of my new friends. My host mom asked to see they bites which populated my back like acne populates the face of a 16 year old boy. She then claimed I had an allergy, not fleas. She did this to take the blame off her, so I made sure to tell her I got the fleas from my friend (who is very generous with everything, including fleas.) I told my host mom that her house was very clean and that I was sorry to bring the bugs into her house. I apologized profusely and said over and over again that it was not her fault. But she still insisted I had an allergy.
Culture conflict. Awkward.
So I fumigated the room with the spray Peace Corps gave me. It made the whole house smell. Opps. Apparently you only need a little spray. I used the whole bottle. I thought I was going to die after spraying the stuff. I had visions of birthing deformed babies and was legitimately scared to go to sleep for fear I wouldn't wake up.
Finally one day she again said that I have an allergy and I said, "Yes, you are right. I have an allergy."
And then my room was cleaned and aired and all was much better.
However I did meet the volunteer that stayed with my host mother last year and she said she also had fleas... I mean an allergy.
This post is dedicated to my sister Kelly. Last year I gave her lice. We are such generous sisters, that I couldn't bare to keep them all to myself. May my fleas be gone before Kelly visits.
Fleas.
I have fleas.
When I think about it I see the Charlie Brown character with the dirt blanket and the dust billowing around him. He had fleas, he must have. Alas.
I told my family about my problem hoping they would have advice or a cure or experience with this little (literally) problem. They were horrified and claimed they have never had any fleas in their house. I felt terrible and empathized with their disgust. If someone told me they had fleas and were living in my house I'd be off put too. Gross. Right? However, my family didn't have any ideas to help me. I decided to take care of it myself, by hoping they would eventually go away. I am Peace Corps. I can handle it.
Not the most proactive approach.
After a week of being eaten alive during the night, not getting any sleep, and developing the most depressed and irritable mood I again brought up the subject of my new friends. My host mom asked to see they bites which populated my back like acne populates the face of a 16 year old boy. She then claimed I had an allergy, not fleas. She did this to take the blame off her, so I made sure to tell her I got the fleas from my friend (who is very generous with everything, including fleas.) I told my host mom that her house was very clean and that I was sorry to bring the bugs into her house. I apologized profusely and said over and over again that it was not her fault. But she still insisted I had an allergy.
Culture conflict. Awkward.
So I fumigated the room with the spray Peace Corps gave me. It made the whole house smell. Opps. Apparently you only need a little spray. I used the whole bottle. I thought I was going to die after spraying the stuff. I had visions of birthing deformed babies and was legitimately scared to go to sleep for fear I wouldn't wake up.
Finally one day she again said that I have an allergy and I said, "Yes, you are right. I have an allergy."
And then my room was cleaned and aired and all was much better.
However I did meet the volunteer that stayed with my host mother last year and she said she also had fleas... I mean an allergy.
This post is dedicated to my sister Kelly. Last year I gave her lice. We are such generous sisters, that I couldn't bare to keep them all to myself. May my fleas be gone before Kelly visits.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Rainy days
It had been a long rainy day. Cloudy and overcast with no warmth or happiness shining down. I was chilled to the bone. The air was heavy with damp air. I dragged myself out of my warm bed where I had been studying and made my way to the kitchen. I sat down to dinner with low expectations and received a bowl of pipping hot soup with noodles and cilantro floating and savory aromas watering my mouth. Yesss! A perfect day for chicken noodle soup! I. Was. Pumped! It was flavorful and tasted just like home. Each spoonful spreading heat throughout my body. Like an internal blanket. Mmmmm mmmmm goooood. I was relishing my dinner when I realized the chicken thigh in my soup had toes. And toenails! I burst into laughter, stifling it with my napkin, a cough and a nose blow. But I couldn't stop! I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to regain control of my giggles. I understand that chicken foot stew is no anomaly. However, I never have chosen to make it or eat it or say "I'd like the chicken foot stew, extra nails please." Noooo. I am fine, A-OK with regular, little bits of muscle. I returned to the kitchen determined to eat the comedic foot. It was no laughing matter. I took a deep breath and held up my foot. It was then I happened to see Leslie going-to-town on her foot, sucking the skin off each toe, her face covered in foot bits. Like a child with an ice cream. She was just as happy and just as messy. Well this send me over the edge. I saw those little toe nails ready to tickle my throat and the uncontrollable giggles started again. I shoved a tortilla in my mouth, but choked on it. Then I was gagging and laughing and not eating the foot. I kept envisioning what the foot would look like with red toenails.
Even after they took my bowl with a mangled 1/4 of the way eaten foot away I was still laughing. Very inappropriate. I am a terrible person. They had a good laugh themselves after asking how I liked it I replied, "It was very good, but was a little difficult." Dificil. Apparently, not a common word used to describe food. Cracked them up. I am a pretty good eater. I can usually get anything down. But tonight Chicken foot won. Bastard. I'll conquer it sometime. Have no fear. Watch out chickens. Your toes are mine.
Even if they taste like crap.
Even after they took my bowl with a mangled 1/4 of the way eaten foot away I was still laughing. Very inappropriate. I am a terrible person. They had a good laugh themselves after asking how I liked it I replied, "It was very good, but was a little difficult." Dificil. Apparently, not a common word used to describe food. Cracked them up. I am a pretty good eater. I can usually get anything down. But tonight Chicken foot won. Bastard. I'll conquer it sometime. Have no fear. Watch out chickens. Your toes are mine.
Even if they taste like crap.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Eucalyptus Forests
On Sundays Don Enrique and his son Freddie drive up to their plot of land on top the mountain. There they cut eucalyptus to sell in Antigua and Guatemala City. They invited me to join them this week, so I crammed in to the back of their pickup truck and placed Leslie, Freddie's 4 year old daughter, on my lap. I wrapped my arms around the squiggly girl to protect her from flying into the driver's sear or out the rear window, each bump bringing visions of disaster to mind. My breath grew short and quick, due to the high altitude....the death ravine 6 inched from the trucks right wheels!!!! The narrow road to the eucalyptus trees winds around the mountain providing beautiful and terrifying views of the town below. What appears to be a one car road manages to fit vehicles driving both directions, pedestrians hopping on the moving trucks for a quick ride up, and cows heading to pasture. I find it best not to watch.
We did amazingly make it up. As I entered the blue forest the sharp sweet smell of eucalyptus tingled my noise. Every inhale hypnotized me and calmed my frazzled nerves. Don Enrique and Freddie ran throught the forest with the agility of a deer. Hopping from stone to stone and climbing while the dry earth crumpled beneath. Leslie followed close behind them. She occasionally looked back to see how I was managing the terrain yelling for me to come. “Venga! Alejandra! Venga!”
We spread a blanket under a tree and while the men chopped branches of eucalyptus, gathering them into 8 piece bundles, Leslie and I played tea.
I began to think either the eucalyptus was intoxicating me or I was suffering from a crazy form of altitude sickness because the ground seemed to be waiving. As it got stronger I realized I was feeling an earthquake. A 6.1. I actually had to support myself with both hands as the earth wiggled beneath me. Leslie soon tired of sitting and demanded we walk around. She lead the way to a freshly terraced and planted field. I watched in horror as she climbed and delicately terraced earth crumbled beneath her. She left a vertical trail in the lovely horizontally striped field. I crafted enticing suggestions to journey elsewhere. They were not enticing enough for she wouldn’t hear and continued to crosshatch the landscape. I took a deep breath and tiptoed on the flat planted area, taking care not to destroy the ledges. Meanwhile Leslie ran up and across and down them. “Weeeeeee!” I attempted to keep my shoes and feshly handwashed pants clean as Leslie gathered a thick layer of yellow dust over her body. Her large shiney eyes growing ever brighter and happier with evey destroyed ledge. At this point I was very uncomfortable, with my dirty clothes yes, but also with destruction of Don Enrique's field. I was stressed out American style. Then I realized Don Enrique and Freddie were watching us with a smile, waving to us and encouraging me to follow Leslie. With this approval Leslie and I trampled the plot to our hearts desire. I continued to step on the flat areas covered with leaves and staw. Leslie did not deem such precaustions necessary. We journey from here to there scavaging for 'food' to eat in the casasita (little house.) Leslie hopped along wearing a large sombreo we found in the bushes. She taught me the most important phrase for any 4 year old, "espera me!!!!!" We rode corn stalk horses to Antigua until they died, the stalks breaking beneath our travel songs. Stalk after stalk, horses after horse we rode. Singing all the way. We killed a good ten horses before arriving in out city. We spun around and around in the city streets. Afterwards I worked out my upper body grapping Leslie's wrist and pulling her into the air on uno, dos, tres listo! The mountain over looked Santa Lucia where the Peace Corps Office resides. In the distance Volcon Aqua Caliente hid behind the clouds playing peek-a-boo with us. Once the eucalyptus was all cut and bundled and wrapped in blankets we headed back to the car. The men arriving far ahead of us, having to wait for our breathless bodies to return. As we drove off I saw the terraced field, no longer picture perfect. Leslie curled up in my lap. We were both coverd from head to foot in yellow dirt. We had it in our hair, under our nails, inbetween our toes and she even had it in her teeth from eating it in the casasito. A picture perfect day.
We did amazingly make it up. As I entered the blue forest the sharp sweet smell of eucalyptus tingled my noise. Every inhale hypnotized me and calmed my frazzled nerves. Don Enrique and Freddie ran throught the forest with the agility of a deer. Hopping from stone to stone and climbing while the dry earth crumpled beneath. Leslie followed close behind them. She occasionally looked back to see how I was managing the terrain yelling for me to come. “Venga! Alejandra! Venga!”
We spread a blanket under a tree and while the men chopped branches of eucalyptus, gathering them into 8 piece bundles, Leslie and I played tea.
I began to think either the eucalyptus was intoxicating me or I was suffering from a crazy form of altitude sickness because the ground seemed to be waiving. As it got stronger I realized I was feeling an earthquake. A 6.1. I actually had to support myself with both hands as the earth wiggled beneath me. Leslie soon tired of sitting and demanded we walk around. She lead the way to a freshly terraced and planted field. I watched in horror as she climbed and delicately terraced earth crumbled beneath her. She left a vertical trail in the lovely horizontally striped field. I crafted enticing suggestions to journey elsewhere. They were not enticing enough for she wouldn’t hear and continued to crosshatch the landscape. I took a deep breath and tiptoed on the flat planted area, taking care not to destroy the ledges. Meanwhile Leslie ran up and across and down them. “Weeeeeee!” I attempted to keep my shoes and feshly handwashed pants clean as Leslie gathered a thick layer of yellow dust over her body. Her large shiney eyes growing ever brighter and happier with evey destroyed ledge. At this point I was very uncomfortable, with my dirty clothes yes, but also with destruction of Don Enrique's field. I was stressed out American style. Then I realized Don Enrique and Freddie were watching us with a smile, waving to us and encouraging me to follow Leslie. With this approval Leslie and I trampled the plot to our hearts desire. I continued to step on the flat areas covered with leaves and staw. Leslie did not deem such precaustions necessary. We journey from here to there scavaging for 'food' to eat in the casasita (little house.) Leslie hopped along wearing a large sombreo we found in the bushes. She taught me the most important phrase for any 4 year old, "espera me!!!!!" We rode corn stalk horses to Antigua until they died, the stalks breaking beneath our travel songs. Stalk after stalk, horses after horse we rode. Singing all the way. We killed a good ten horses before arriving in out city. We spun around and around in the city streets. Afterwards I worked out my upper body grapping Leslie's wrist and pulling her into the air on uno, dos, tres listo! The mountain over looked Santa Lucia where the Peace Corps Office resides. In the distance Volcon Aqua Caliente hid behind the clouds playing peek-a-boo with us. Once the eucalyptus was all cut and bundled and wrapped in blankets we headed back to the car. The men arriving far ahead of us, having to wait for our breathless bodies to return. As we drove off I saw the terraced field, no longer picture perfect. Leslie curled up in my lap. We were both coverd from head to foot in yellow dirt. We had it in our hair, under our nails, inbetween our toes and she even had it in her teeth from eating it in the casasito. A picture perfect day.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I live in San Mateo, a small pueblo with a population of 3,000. It is an agriculture community in the mountains. My host family consists of Don Enrique, his wife Dona Maria and their daughter Brenda. She is around my age and is getting married next month. However, they also have 5 other children. 2 live in the States and the rest live in Guatemala with their own families. They are a very friendly family and feed me enough food for an army. Don't fear, I will not starve here. I have Spanish Class all day and then hang out with the family the rest of the time. There is no hot water, so I take coooooold showers or lovely hot bucket baths. I rather enjoy the bucket baths. Water conservation and it is much better than dancing through a freezing shower like a squirming little girl. I let a scream everytime I get under that shower head and frantically clean.
All is well. I am clean and well fed. Can't ask for more than that!
All is well. I am clean and well fed. Can't ask for more than that!
A Day for Noah
The days are pranksters. I have made the mistake many a time of trusting the morning sun and cloudless sky. They fool me into thinking it is ok to leave home sans raincoat. All morning is bright, clear and warm. However at 1 pm, out of nowhere the sky unleashes a flood of rain. The streets turn to rivers and I am suddenly wading through in 6 inches of brown goop cursing myself for not learning from the pervious day. I skip through the river dodging candy wrappers and dog droppings and plastic bottles. I kinda feel as though I am a video game, except in this game I grow little green fungus forests on my feet.
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