Take a Deep Breath

I know the distance between blogs has been growing, as has my apathy, but since I have settled down a bit in Xela, there seems to be less time. Sorry, expect the postings to be every three to four weeks. Also, my camera has gone kaput, so there won't be very many photos, which has also been holding me back on the blog. I brought it to a guy in town, and he finally called me back after four days, (everything is slower in Guatemala) he said he needs to replace the lens, which will cost me about $200 dollars! So, I've decided to get a new one. In the meantime, I do have a few photos, and I've used some from the internet to show you the places I've been.


Best English School


I started teaching English part time at the Best English School (yes, that's really the name). The experience has been surprisingly pretty nice, although it still has a lot of growing to live up to its name. I have three students all private, all women, all around my age, all speak a decent amount of English. An ESL teacher's dream! As the pace of life is a bit slower in Guatemala, and the culture of work and time do not coincide with my Western mentality, students frequently fail to come to class, but this has died down since I started to get to know my students better. Ahh yes, sometimes I have to adjust myself to the Latin time here, sip on some coffee, and just take a deep breath. I'm trying to slowly move myself away from the school, as I've realized I can charge my students a lot less, and they can pay me more, everyone wins! I hope Best English School isn't reading this right now.


Entre Mundos

Entre Mundos (the magazine I volunteer for) was invited to a photography exhibition through an NGO called Cambios de Voces (Changes of Voices), where children are taught how to express themselves through photos and writing. The event was to start at 4:30, which was what the invitations stated in English, but interestingly enough; the Spanish version was printed as 4:00. So we arrived casually, yet promptly at 5:15 just in time to catch the graduation, and see the entire exhibition. Take a deep breath.


Right now, we're getting ready to publish the January edition of the magazine, so I spent a good deal of time working on my article about security in Guatemala; it includes quotes from various interviews I conducted. When it's all fixed up, I'll include it in the next post. The deadline was loosely Sat. Nov. 15th, I gave it to my editor on Wed., and I was the first writer to submit to her. Ahh, Guatemala. I've also been doing more translations, and myself and the director (from Holland but speaks Dutch, English, and Spanish perfectly, and some German, not fair) are starting a campaign here against the use of plastic bags. What's great is that the market sellers actually charge the equivalent of about 25 cents per bag, but we're trying to reach the people even more. We hope to start some school programs to talk to the kids about the environment. Living here has been good for my personal consumption as well, and I've realized how easy it is to lessen your use of plastic.

We hold conferences every Tuesday night, and the last one was about child labor in Guatemala. A real eye opener. Although I wasn't entirely surprised, it certainly made me more conscious of the 10 year olds in the park shining shoes, or the children using machetes that weigh more than them, cutting weeds in the fields. It's not a happy life for some of these kids, and if and when they go to school, they can hardly stay awake. There's a huge movement in Guatemala to help the children and their families who work at the landfills separating garbage for cash, and imagine that many of them are fighting with street dogs to find food within the landfills.

The name escapes me at the moment, probably because it was in Mam, (one of the 45 Native languages in Guatemala), but an NGO made an appearance at the conference with about 8 teenage kids who are funded by several different organizations, including Save the Children, hmmm. They're like a teenage club out of one of the rural communities that bands together to plan activities amongst children who are involved in child labor. A few of them spoke very eloquently about what they do, and even taught us a little Mam. He humbly explained that he could ONLY count to 8,000, in Mam! I was surprised to hear that within the schools of this community they mostly focus on Mam and not Spanish. Afterwards, a couple of the boys and the only girl in her typical dress, brought out their guitars and sang. Very amateur, but cute, and all original songs, both in Mam and Spanish. It was all very nice, but I was curious to know more about how these kids, who seemed to be of a higher strata of child laborers are helping those that can't participate in such groups.


Side Trips


Entre Mundos and another organization called Fundap sponsored a trip to a coffee farm about two hours from Xela called Loma Linda, (Beautiful Slope), where they've been harvesting their own organic coffee, and other plants for trade, and are in the process of creating a touristic site. We got free guided tours of the hills around Loma Linda, some waterfalls, the coffee harvesting, a free generous lunch of chicken and rice, and even a view of their worm compost, yum. We were literally the first people to visit the site as a tourist excursion. It was quite the organic experience, no pun intended, but it makes me think about what Costa Rica was probably like thirty years ago or more. The guy who runs the show, Pasqual, also the mayor, and the school teacher, was incredible. He's really trying to make a better life for his community, and wanted to make sure all the tourists had a good time. Because only half the group got to see the elusive Quetzal Bird (The Guatemalan National Bird) on the trip, he let the others at least touch a feather. One of the kids in the town had been collecting feathers from the tail that the bird sheds every so often. Pasqual needs some volunteers for the hotel their constructing. Any takers back home?


I also went to Laguna Chicobal a couple of weeks ago, which is a sacred lake with ceremonial Mayan alters surrounding it, right at the edge of a cloud forest. The lake sits below a hike up a small volcano, which is only about an hour from the entrance of the park, but we actually hiked 4.7 Kilometers from the beautiful village of San Martin, which I could have only captured if my camera was good. As we climbed higher we saw women in their typical dress and men in cowboy hats planting corn and cabbage, and the people actually stopped to say "Buenos Dias." I went with my American housemate, Lisa, and a Spaniard named Diego, so we got to practice Spanish the entire time. We sorted through the Spanish accent with lisps for the Z's and the use of Vosotros, instead of Ustedes. Yet, good to hear a different accent.


Last weekend I went with Lisa and some others for her birthday to Fuentes Georginas a natural hot spring with three large pools fed by hot sulphur springs, varying in temperature. One of them was so incredibly hot that I had to get out after a few minutes. Although it's a bit touristy, there were lots of Guatemalan families there, which made it seem very local, and we even made some Churassco (Guatemalan Barbeque), with beans, and blue tortillas and went back to the pools at night to sit under the stars. The air up there was fabulous compared to the city, and it was nice to take advantage of a clear night sky. We slept in little cabins, although expensive it was well worth it, and each was equipped with a fireplace, very rustic.

In Guatemalan style we arrived at Fuentes with a pickup truck taxi up via the town of Zunil. I was in Zunil just a few weeks before. It's famous for the devotion to San Ramon, Machi Mon (spelling) in the Quiche dialect. During Spanish rule, the people of Zunil fooled the colonizers into thinking they were praying to a Catholic saint, called San Ramon, but would perform their secret Mayan ceremonies only at night. Each month they move San Ramon's figure to different houses. He's a human sized doll dressed in Spanish colonial clothes, and tourists and locals alike go to light candles to his figure sitting in a chair in a dark room with a pipe hanging out of his moth.

On Sunday I'll be heading out to Tajamulco Volcano, which is the largest peak in Central America. People say it isn't as bad as the next biggest, Santa Maria, which is at more of an incline. We'll be getting up at 4 in the morning, can't wait!

I've been struggling with how to feel part of the local scene here, and with this new campaign about how my volunteer efforts will effect the people. There are so many foreign volunteers here, and many only for a short time. Are we really helping these people? How can I begin to know or understand their customs? Xela certainly has a lot to offer for us foreigners who are feeling a little far away from home, but it's tough to get to know Guatemala outside of Zona 1, and outside the little America that we create. It's also a really small city. I've already encountered someone from LaFayette (my hometown), a person who lived on my same street in Boston, and even met a Guatemalan whose brother worked at stickly in Syracuse.

The other day I stopped to distribute a flyer for Entremundos conferences at one of the nicest hotels in town, Bonifaze. A group of French tourists geared up with their cropped pants and fanny packs were greeted by indigenous women selling their telas (cloths) and silk tapestries. High-end tourism is making its way to Guatemala, and I suppose they'll never really know the cultures. Yet even the young semi-permanent residents like myself, are here volunteering, but still transient. We blindly buy cigarettes and cookies from the 8 year olds, and start ethnic bars that serve sushi. Meanwhile the bar down the street gets little business.We´re different tourists, we say.

I walked into the Bonifaze hotel, and saw the French tourists eating an array of fruit in the beautiful posh dining room. When I left, I saw a child sleeping with her mother on the stoop, folding her traditional scarves, and organizing colorful headbands and bracelets, clearly preparing for something. As the next tour bus pulled up, the mother and daughter jumped to their feet and ran down the hill with their basket of souvenirs.