I’ve informed most of my coworkers and friends that I will be leaving next month. It has not been particularly enjoyable and has been incredibly difficult to explain in a way that doesn’t make Peace Corps look totally callous and … Continue reading →

It rained for the fourth time today. Seriously, is the rainy season already here? Anyway, I was at my friend Astrid's house for a baking lesson. She and her cousin, being Guatemalans, never really made cakes, cookies, pies, breads, etc. before and they really wanted to learn. So far we've made sugar cookies, gingerbread cookies, chocolate brownies with frosting, strawberry cheesecake brownies, rice krispie treats, and chocolate cake. Today was a lesson in how to make zucchini bread. I kind of freaked out in the market in Xela the other day over finding zucchini and eggplant and started gushing about how good zucchini bread was, so she bought three zucchini and today we made something she never imagined existed. She thought it was so weird to make bread out of a vegetable. Anyway, we made enough batter for two loaves and had just finished turning on the gas oven when the rain hit. I remembered pretty much right away that the window in my room was open for some fresh air and I hadn't closed it because there was no evidence of rain in the sky when I had left just half an hour before. I didn't mention anything because I thought the rain would stop. Instead, it got stronger and after confessing to Astrid that I was worried about finding a flood in my room, she got a worried look on her face and told me to hurry home. I translated that literally and was practically running with my umbrella held high and clutching my purse to my chest so it wouldn't flop about outside of my umbrella's protection. I was almost home free when I came up short before a large puddle continuously emptying into a stream of water. I made the quick decision to back up a little and move to the side to avoid the river. My feet decided not to follow my brain and instead slipped right into the giant puddle while the rest of my body followed suit. At least my hands lept out to keep me from falling face first, getting wet and full of dirty run-off water (imagine streets filled with garbage including dirty diapers and the remains of lots of food, as well as the poop of animals ranging from cats and dogs to cows and sheep, and the urine of lots of men who don't mind public exposure). My left leg meanwhile fell into the giant puddle just as my purse was swinging forward towards the water. This happened in a matter of seconds. I didn't get hurt or anything. I just got up looking slightly like I was a stumbling bolo. There weren't a ton of people around to witness my embarrassment because almost everyone was holed up at home. The women selling vegetables kind of made an incredulous gesture at me and I just waved and ran off trying to act like nothing had happened despite the giant wet spot running down my left leg.

It was hilarious. I was even laughing at myself. Of course being one of the town's gringas, everyone who saw me knows just who it was that fell down in the rain. It was also one of those moments that you had to be there to really get the hilarity of it all. Just thought I'd share my super klutzy moment of the day.

Only 18 days left! (and that's an exclamation point both of surprise, excitement and sadness, if an exclamation can convey all that)

Recently, on my morning runs I started noticing the beauty of the gates in our neighborhood. The doors are so unique have such great designs. Right now, the flowers are in full bloom so I wanted to share a few of my favorites with you. Enjoy!

I've been very neglectful of this blog as of late, partly because I'm unwilling to process the swiftly approaching Life Change and partly because the days and weeks are whipping by me with breakneck speed. Trying to keep up with the laundry to-do list that keeps lengthening as my time here gets shorter, and instead staying up most of the night thinking about it all while having extended Grey's Anatomy marathons.....

As much as I've tried to deny it, the time has Come to say my goodbyes, be grateful for the time and experiences that I've been given, the people and places that I've come to know. My counterpart, realizing I had no weekends left here (ack!), invited me to Xocomil, the water park a short drive towards the coast from here. It's been depressingly cold in Sija, having the effect of keeping me indoors to contemplate my imminent departure and preventing me from enjoying my site, project, and friends in my last days here. So I accepted his generous invite, and we fled the cold at 8 am yesterday.

So while you all were watching the Super Bowl and eating nachos and wings.....

Barely any people at the park, no lines on the rides-we rode everything at least twice!

Lazy River with Mayan themed facades

My awesome counterpart relaxing on the Lazy River

Workin it out on the lily pads

A Full day at the water park, partaking in some huge prawns and calamari

Stopping off at the fruit stand on our way home After an exhausting day in the sun and awesome seafood, I came home and still layed awake until 3 am-during which time I could've been doing any number of things (writing reports, making a Power Point for my program director's visit on Wednesday, packing, writing this blog, cleaning.....the list goes on) but I felt entitled to a good slumber and sure that I would doze off at any moment.

So now I'm up again after a powernap between the hours of 4 and 8 am. Anxiety levels at an all time high, ambivalence about finishing Peace Corps, leaving my first real job and a life All my own without friends from high school or family close by. But I have faith that the future holds many more amazing opportunities, and I assure myself that I will never forget the transcendent experiences that Guatemala has given me.

The next (less than) two weeks-despedidas or farewell events that I (mistakenly) tried to guide towards outdoors, hiking, admiring the work we've accomplished in the last two years, as opposed to sitting awkwardly around, eating exorbitant amounts of (delicious) food and making small talk. But Mother Nature laughed in my face on that one, with downright miserable cold drizzly weather since I planned those outings. Exorbitant amounts of food and long winded speeches it is, then.

A last hurrah at Lake Atitlan (in my top three favorite places in Guatemala) with my cousin Kerry of the San Luis Obispo County Moore clan (lol) coming down to visit me in a trip planned months ago before I knew I was leaving the next week. Fun will be had regardless, new ground will be covered, and I always love playing tour guide for a couple days!

The next 18 days, much like one of the water slides at the park yesterday, will be a rush of adrenaline and endorphins and over way too quickly. I'm just going to hang on and enjoy the ride!

No Superbowl for me. I could watch it on the t.v. I have in my room, but I'm really not feeling like it. So instead, I've been sitting here, listening to the hail and rain hit the plastic roof down the hallway (we've had some crazy weather the past three days), thinking about life--what's been going on and what's coming up.

We've started our last visits to schools. This is where the melancholy hits. Knowing that I will soon leave this world I have become familiar with and go back to a world that I was familiar with is both exciting and depressing. I go through moments of extreme sadness, one that hit me while I was walking through the city the other day. I know my way around here--I know how to navigate the streets of town, what to say to people to start a conversation off right, where to go for the best tortillas, which woman on market day has the best produce. I feel so confident in my ability to live here in Guatemala and it's something that was a bit difficult to come by. And now that I'm an expert, it's hard to let it go again, to lose all that I have gained. But it's time. And since it's time, I'm always thinking in my head whether or not it's the last time I'm doing this or that. I bought toilet paper for the last time, I ate at the Chinese restaurant and the comedor in town for the last time, I washed some clothes by hand for the last time, I stopped by the police station for the last time (just to ask how things were going in town). This list will be growing in the next two weeks as I buy my last recarga for my cell phone or eat my last avocado. It's just hard to close everything up.

Several months back I was thinking of staying. Sometimes I wish I could stay. But so much has changed in the past six months. My host sister passed away, someone broken into my house forcing me to move out, living with my host family has slowly turned from something great to a very awkward situation, and Peace Corps Guatemala is going through some big changes, changes that will tear volunteers from their communities and challenge those left in Guatemala to adapt to even more new things over the next several months. I also have something to go back to-law school. It will be a (very expensive) challenge, but I feel like it's the right next step. I was thinking about law school before Peace Corps and it still seems like the next logic step for me and I'm pretty excited. I always wanted to work with human rights and the law seems like a good medium to turn to for human rights work. We'll see. Anyway, everything points to me going and that's what I'll be doing in less than three weeks. Between then and now, there's a lot of work to do to close up things here--14 schools to visit, neighbors to say good-bye to, paperwork to wrap up, reports to write, (hopefully) a new volunteer to introduce to our site, a pile of crap to pack up, doctor's appointments to go to. And most of this in the two weeks I have left actually in my site. That's part of the reason I haven't updated so much lately--lots to do and not much time to do it in.

Anyway, still plugging away here in Guatemala. Just wanted to share some thoughts as I go into the home stretch. I did some calculations recently and all told, Guatemala has been home for the past 750+ days. I spent some days in the U.S., but that was mainly just as a tourist. There are only 19 more days left. I'm going to try to make the most of it while running around between errands and meetings. I have more mangoes and avocado to eat and a few more English conversations to have with my friend Astrid. I'll try focusing more on the things coming up to keep myself a little more positive.

Today we went to the woods with a group of young people interested in tourism, to evaluate a new hike, and see what we would see.

And we were surprised.

None of the young folks had ever seen snow in the forest before, although they live just kilometers away. Up until today, some never thought it was possible.

They were pretty amazed.

Actually I was pretty amazed, too. It was like hail, in perfectly round balls, but covered the ground, emanating cold like a late summer snow-pack in the Cascades. But it wasn't in crunchy sheets begging you to post-hole - more like slippery sand.

So uphill wasn't bad. We slipped and slid up to the summit, where another wow-moment awaited us.

It's possible that more pictures of snow and ice have never been taken in such a short amount of time.

So many times we try to encapsulate in words or pictures or textbooks what simply can't be communicated in such a way. Today was a reminder that we usually learn the most when the world teaches us through our own sense of wonder; even more so when that sense of wonder is shared.

Thanks to the woods for a great day. I'd like to spend every Sunday of my life in the same way.

I'm going to start off with a plug for my sitemate's stove project. We work on different sides of town and she is still looking for funding for her projects. She was also put in a bad situation because of Peace Corps' decision to have our training class take early close of service, so she is staying a month after finishing service to monitor the construction of the stoves in her communities. Here is the link to her blog http://30stovesin90days.blogspot.com/. She's doing a paypal or FOG check option, for FOG its the same, but with Melissa Amyx- Cat II in the memo line.

Good news on the SPA project proposal! I got the call Friday afternoon to let me know it was approved and I will be beginning construction at the beginning of next week!! The project is now fully funded and will be completed by March 5th, with a few weeks of evaluation and monitoring before I finish service and turn over my responsibilities to my replacement.

Town fair was just as fun as I hoped it would be! We were invited to a first communion lunch, went over to another friend's house to watch Convite (kind of like a parade, but it's all day dancing to marimba in heavy costumes) and had friends come to visit Cunen. The Conejos (the most famous marimba band in Guatemala) did come to Cunen, but because the Municipality was left in heavy debt, we had to pay an entrance fee. Last year it was in the park and free. The nice part about charging an entrance fee, is that all the drunks that wandered through last year's free performance stayed out to save their quetzales for alcohol.

On the main day of the fair there was a parade and Melissa and I walked with the other health center workers right behind the new mayor and his administration. The fair is in celebration of the Virgin of Candelaria so there were just as many religious processions as there were parades and dances. It was cool to have so much going on in town when its usually pretty quiet and low key. Most people are usually home for the night by six or seven p.m. but the night of the Conejos we left the dance around 1:30 in the morning and there were still lots of people dancing or watching and enjoying the music. All in all it has been a successful and enjoyable week. Things are turning out better than I expected with the new close of service date, and it has allowed me to make fun travel plans before returning to Pennsylvania. I will be traveling to a few sites in Guatemala that I haven't seen yet, then head on to Belize and Mexico, get in some beach time and hopefully see some Digo Rivera and Frida Khalo art in Mexico City. Then I'll be on to South America to visit family in Ecuador, perhaps see either Chile or Bolivia and definitely to Peru to see Machu Picchu, which has always been on my travels wish list.

I will be adding pictures as the stove project progresses!

So the second year of my Peace Corps service has begun. When I think of a year ago, I can remember how outrageously nervous I was about moving to Guatemala. I had no clue what I was getting into. I had never been to Central America, never spoken the Spanish language, never been away from home for longer than four months and never done something as crazy as joining the Peace Corps. Looking back, I know that the decision to get on that plane has changed my life forever. I have now been to two Central American countries, can carry on decent conversations in Spanish, I’ve been away from home for an entire year and I still think I’m crazy for joining the Peace Corps. It hasn’t been what I thought it would be. I pictured myself in a mud hut all alone in the middle of nowhere. But in reality, my house here is beautiful and I rarely feel alone. I can’t believe it has already been a year. The first one flew by; I can only imagine how fast this next one will go.

The school year has started and we know what that means… WORK! Productivity, organization, meetings, school visits, projects, feeling like I am actually here for a legitimate reason. FINALLY! I can’t tell you how happy I am to be starting work. That doesn’t sound normal huh? Wanting to go to work? Well, after three months of no school and feeling like a bump on a log, I am ecstatic about doing something useful. Now don’t get me wrong…I didn’t just sit on my rump for the past three months. I also took naps and watched three seasons of Modern Family. But I digress. I did my first school visit on Friday and boy did it start out with a bang. I showed up and there was a celebration going on. Apparently, a group of Canadians had been working in the school that week putting a new roof on some of the classrooms. So on Friday, the director and the students put on plays, sang songs, gave out gifts and just celebrated our friends from the great white north... Canada. As I sat there, observing the activities, the director decided to call me out and introduce me in front of everyone. Only mildly uncomfortable and awkward. Welcome to Guatemala.

This next week, I get the joy of waking up at 5am to go to schools. Getting on a chicken bus isn’t my favorite activity at the crack of dawn…sleep is. But that is the only way to get to school, so it must be done. I know what my Dad would say here…”When I was your age, I had already milked cows, plowed a field and walked to school in five feet of snow by the time 5am rolled around.” Well Dad, the only thing I have to say to that is…that sucks. Try living in the middle of nowhere Guatemala where you can’t drink the water or speak your native language. Milking those cows doesn’t seem so bad now does it? Just kidding Dad. Sort of.

Kurt, Laura and I are hosting a competition between all of our teachers. Each classroom has to have what we call a “healthy corner”. The teachers have to create a place for soap, towels, toothbrushes, toothpaste, brooms, clean water, bleach, etc. Each child has to have their own supplies and at the end of April, we will be judging to see who has the most impressive, creative healthy corner. Hopefully, our teachers will get really into the competition and astonish us. Unfortunately, when I mentioned this amazing activity to my teachers on Friday, they replied by asking me to teach them English and then they wanted to know if I have found a Guatemalan man to marry yet. Yep. Welcome to the life of a gringa in Guatemala. Try to get some work done and all anybody wants to know about is my love life. I replied by telling them to buy some freaking toothpaste!

On another fabulous note…I want to introduce you to the Pearly Whites Project! My Aunt Ramona has begun a fundraiser in her school for toothbrushes and toothpaste to send to Guatemala. I plan on using the donations as prizes for the students and teachers. One of Ramona’s talented students has created a blog where we are talking about the project. Check it out! www.pearlywhitesproject.blogspot.com I am really excited about sharing my Guatemalan experience with her class. I think it is very important for kids to learn about different cultures at a young age.

So that is pretty much what is happening in my life these days. All of the excitement of international development work coming right at ya. Be careful of a fun overload. The next couple of months will go by fast. Soon enough I will be back stateside fighting the millions of people who will also be searching for jobs. Hmmm. Becoming a gypsy is sounding better every day. Seriously. I’m not coming back. :-)

It is my last weekend in Guatemala. And Antigua. And I didn't think I would get emotional, as I have remained somewhat stoic throughout the last few weeks, or sometimes when not stoic, just stressed.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotion and stress, trying to wrap up loose ends, saying goodbyes and getting all the necessary medical exams (yes, I did have to poop in a cup three times in a row, and if that is too much information, the peace corps life is not for you!) and paperwork done, which are required to "Close of Service" and finish my Peace Corps' experience. This is extremely fitting since the Peace Corps begins with a ton of paperwork and medical evaluations...I guess I have come full circle...

Walking through the cobblestone streets of Antigua, with the sun shining on my back and small, indigenous women trying to sell me random crap on the streets, I can't help but get a little choked up. Guatemala has been my home for the last 18 months, and somehow I feel like I am turning my back on it, the culture, the beauty, everything it has to offer--which really is so much. Goodbyes are hard.

Saying goodbye to Guatemala, even harder...or harder than I had imagined...especially when I never imagined I would be leaving so quickly or under such strange circumstances.

And while of course it is all so bittersweet, as most goodbyes often are, I am happy to be leaving on friendly terms with Guatemala. Though I have had my fair share of challenges and dark, ugly moments here, I can leave with a smile on my face, because, equally, I have had many wonder moments here, and I have made some amazing friends, both peace corps and host country nationals.

I do feel lucky to be leaving on good terms with this country. And I dream of coming back and visiting my friends and family I have made here, or rather the home I have created here...

Thank you, Guatemala for the good times and the bad, for the friendships I have cultivated and for the experience of a lifetime. I hope I never forget you...I don't know how I could...

The phenomenon of natural selection of organisms on this planet is based on the idea that overpopulation leads to competition for limited resources, and, ultimately, there is a race for survival of the fittest. Evolutionary fitness is achieved when an organism’s offspring survive to reproduce. It is usually an “every man for himself” kind of [...]

Well, it’s been a long time coming (I’m talking about my this blog entry)

I think I last posted back in October, and I don’t know why I haven’t felt inclined to write anything. Sometimes you do and sometimes you don’t.

A TON of stuff has happened, though – I moved out of El Tumbador yesterday, not because I was personally in danger but because of some broad security concerns at the national level. Peace Corps Washington had to make some hard decisions and rather than close PC-Guatemala they’re cutting the program in half, from +/- 200 volunteers to around 100. At the same time, they’re relocating all remaining volunteers to the Central Western Highlands of Totonicapan, Quetzaltenango, Quiche, Solola and Chimaltenango. Here’s a map.

I’m getting moved to Quiche.

(it’s pronounced kee-CHAY, not “keeche” like the egg tart lol)

My support network is getting turned upside down. A bunch of my friends have chosen to leave, as the administration realized they were complicating people’s lives by requiring site changes and so they offered everyone the opportunity to end their service honorably (rather than take the negatively connotated “early termination” label that you’d normally get if you left before 27 months). So people are going home.

All this doesn’t even touch the fact that I’m now going to spend my last 6 months of service getting used to new work counterparts, a new culture and a new community. I’m moving to a remote valley that’s dusty in the summer months, located at the end of a dirt road that becomes almost impassable in the rainy season. There’ll be no more of the coastal tropics, the steep foothills and volcanoes out my bedroom window, with every inch covered with lush coffee plantations. I’ll miss Tumbador but it’s a moot point – I figure that you have to put your own service and comfort in perspective.

In the meantime, I’m sitting in a cushy hotel in Xela waiting to share a flete (chartered truck or vehicle) with a future sitemate out to our new home. We’ll probably leave on Tuesday morning, which is fine with me because having cable TV, tasty meals, hot water and nice comfy room free of charge is a pretty good deal. Until then, I’m doing random stuff with my newfound free time…..like catching up on my blog ☺ Maybe I’ll try and make this a habit again….

p.s. did you see that word back there? Sitemates? That part ALONE will be crazy; in El Tumbador the nearest volunteer was an hour away but now I’ll have three or possibly four other volunteers living with me in the same town…..

I logged in to write this post today and briefly scanned the top of my blog where I wrote, almost 2 years ago, "I am completing a life long dream to live, work and serve abroad." I still remember the tangible feeling of, for the fist time in my young life upon arriving in Guatemala, truly living my dream. I was fresh out of college. I was terrified. I had never held a real job or any major responsibility. I had simply allowed my heart and most earnest passions guide me here.

Last Thursday, that dream rather abruptly changed course. Peace Corps announced that I would be evacuated from my site due to two groups fighting over a water source (it's the peak of dry season here), fighting in between two rings of smugglers selling illegal gasoline from Mexico, and that, due to an impending declaration of a "state of siege" to combat drug trafficking, I will be permanently re-located to a safer location.

I am not alone. Almost half of my fellow PCVs from my training group will be re-located or given the option to early "COS" or "Close of Service," due to the purported security concerns. An early COS is akin to a "honorable discharge" from the military - honorable status for your service and full benefits in recognition of the fact that forces outside of your control forced you to leave. Most of us will choose to leave early; we have only about 7 months left in our service, so the 'point' to staying and attempting to make any real difference in this little time would most likely be futile. I haven't made my decision yet, but regardless of that decision, I will have to leave my home in Tejutla, San Marcos.

I wasn't done. My community and I are trying to build a school. I had plans for HIV education with the Ministry of Health in my department this fiscal year with PEPFAR. My counterpart in the health center, Sonia, and I were working on building a nutrition program through the local government office. I was helping a local cooperative to gain a professional nutritional analysis for a healthy product that would be sold to all of the schools in my municipality for their snack.

I had resolved to spend more time with my host family. Myself and the group of children that live by my apartment have art projects planned, and Sundays to spend together watching Sesame Street in Spanish and baking bread. I will have to say goodbye to all of my courageous and beautiful fellow Peace Corps volunteers and site-mates that I have grown to call family.

I should feel angry. Angry for the loss. The sense of regret, failure, displacement, and chaos. Truthfully, I feel swept up in the tide of the forces that be - Peace Corps Washington, statistical reports, press releases and media announcements indicating Central America, or more specifically the "Northern Triangle," (Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala) as "the most dangerous place in the world outside of an active war zone," Congress' new law protecting PCVs, and the new wave of politics in Guatemala. And I feel in awe of being but a tiny, seemingly inconsequential part of this giant process.

As the New York Times, Christian Science Monitor, CNN and Peace Corps press-releases have announced, Central America is getting more dangerous. More drug-related violence. More armed robberies on buses. More this, more that. And they aren't lying or distorting the facts - Central America really has never been a "safe" destination, particularly the border regions where high levels of drug trafficking take place; places where PCVs often work in rather close proximity to. This isn't to say Peace Corps is throwing volunteers into perilous regions - in fact, they do all they can, much to our bereavement, to make sure we do not place ourselves in potentially dangerous situations or locations.

I, for example, work in HIV/AIDS education. I live in a border department where the high-risk populations for HIV/AIDS live and travel through - yet, I cannot directly travel to the border to work. Okay. I swallow this. I would love to go there, but I abide by Peace Corps standards and their religious-like attention to my whereabouts and safety. I do not go.

The fact remains, as Carlos Torres, the Peace Corps Regional Director for the Inter-American and Pacific Region (IAP), revealed to volunteers this past Wednesday: that apart from the region being dangerous all-around, it's violence is directly affecting volunteers - 1 out of 10 volunteers experiences a "serious crime incident" (SCI) every year in Guatemala. SCIs are different from "general crime," (petty theft, etc), and include incidents such as rape or armed robbery, etc. However, Peace Corps volunteers serve for over 2 years. This is not good news.

Director Torres shared a story with us in his tempered and blessedly informative talk, about a discussion he had with the female PCV who was shot in the leg during a bus assault in Honduras recently. As they were speaking about the incident, she told him that she had done everything her Safety and Security Officer had trained her to do when gunshots are fired on a bus - sit close to the window, duck under the seat and do not try to protect anyone. This gave Director Torres pause - wait, wait, wait, he responded, "they're training you how to avoid bullets?" At what point, he asked rhetorically, do we say to ourselves "what are we doing here?"

I instinctually agree. Peace Corps Guatemala recently rolled out a new transportation policy to protect volunteers. We already lack a great deal of freedom to leave our sites and experience other parts of the country; a third of the country is currently off-limits to volunteers for travel. What kind of quality of life is this? None of us expected this, to be sure. More importantly, returning to my example of HIV/AIDS education, what am I doing here if the most at-risk populations that I have the potential to affect are completely off-limits to me for my security? Or the poorest of the poor locales in Guatemala are deemed unsafe to work in for my main project, food security?

Over a year ago, Peace Corps sent up a red flag about our region when their 2010 yearly portfolio (a report that takes into account not only safety and security issues, but achievements for Goal 1 and 2, host country commitment, strategic goals of the United States, the Human Development Index (of which PC tries to only operate in countries that preform below half) and other critical indicators), contained alarming information about the safety of volunteers.

Thus, in March 2011, Peace Corps sent a team down to our region on a fact-finding mission to discover what was going on with the reported increase in crime. Almost concurrently, the World Bank and the United Nations Office of Drug and Crime released statistical reports about Central America. The World Bank study said that the population of Spain and Central America are roughly equal, and that in 2010, Spain experienced 336 murders, while Central America experienced 14,257. That is an increase in the homicide rate by a factor of 40.

Homicide rates are universally used to conduct studies of crime because they are reliable - almost always, there is a body. There is no gray area with murders - a body is a body. Usually speaking, high homicide rates go hand in hand with general lawlessness, so this statistic is used to judge the safety of a given country or region. In our case, it can also be used to judge how safely volunteers can serve in a given country.

After the tragic murder of a PCV in Benin a few years ago, Congress recently passed the Kate Puzey Protection Act, which has sensitized media to PCV safety. From my discussions with Peace Corps staff, the general consensus at this juncture in time is to protect us, even if that means disrupting our service - no one can afford the bad press.

And I sit in awe. I can't help but feel a veil of safety - whether real or imagined - in my site. I have close relationships with my counterparts. I am generally happy and only feel uncomfortable when traveling, and okay, when I see a burned-out car from a drug-related car chase down the road from my house. Or when the local police are evacuated due to threats from locals to kill or capture them.

Sonia and I passed the burned-out car surrounded by hundreds of people several months ago, and I remember looking to her with wide-eyes and confusion; she responded with a huff and a deep eye-roll that said "this is just the way it is, it will pass."

Is she the frog in the pot of water that slowly comes to boil, killing her slowly? Is this how Guatemalans respond to violence, while Americans working here are the frogs that hop in to the already boiling pot and instantly realize the danger of staying? When is enough enough for anyone?

Part of me recognizes the dangers - I am putting my life at risk by serving in Guatemala in the border region. Yet part of me instantly feels indignant as this thought passes. I am a college graduate who willingly accepted these risks to serve my country, my fellow humans and to learn about the realities of the world I live in.

What is more tragic, then: a premature death that befalls a Peace Corps volunteer who willingly serves and has carte blanche to leave at any time, or an 18-year old kid who joined the Army because he couldn't pay for college, cannot leave his service honorably if he chooses, and gets killed in Afghanistan? One is justified because our country willingly accepts the sacrifice of a life dedicated towards the paradoxical killing of others in the name of safety and peace, and not the other for dedicating their life to peacefully improving the lives of others in the name of creating a world without conflict to begin with? This reasoning is fucking broken, America.

I'll take the training to avoid bullets, thank you.

Our military, for one, has already made tremendous steps, for better or for worse, to involving themselves in sustainable development. They are building schools and infrastructure in the Middle East. I am building a school in Guatemala. We both have the same goal, our rules are different.

My opinion is clearly jaded and aggrieved - I have to personally tell 77 middle school children and their parents that I cannot be present to guide them through the rest of the construction process. And yes, I do agree with Director Torres - what are we doing here if we cannot work in high-impact areas?

Do I take the early COS option, then, and return on my own to build the school thereby taking a higher personal risk to my safety by not having Peace Corps to assist me if an emergency arrises? Or do I heed my superiors suggestions and leave San Marcos thereby leaving all of my work unfinished and hundreds of people with a questionable impression of not only Peace Corps but the United States, and not to mention, myself? This is not a choice. This is the most difficult decision I have ever had to make in my young life.

Taking a step back from my hot-headed bereavement, I acknowledge that my role as a PCV is small. I have made an impact already in the lives of a few. I am satisfied with this. But I suppose, then, the ultimate question becomes:

Standing at the receiving end of a cascade of events (safety and security concerns on behalf of Peace Corps and international institutions, media attention, Congress), can one persons commitment to the common dream of raising the global standard of living and creating a peaceful world contend with our present world where violence and fear are rising? Is the impact of the work I do worth the risk of my own life? Or perhaps more appropriately put: is the system that creates this violence and impedes development worth approaching on this end at all?

These are the questions that keep me up at night lately. For now, I will return to my site tomorrow. I will attempt to bring closure to my projects in the short term because we will be pulled out at any moment when the state of siege finds financing (currently, the Guatemalan Congress is voting on the 2012 budget, and when the vote passes, Otto Perez Molina has guaranteed a state of siege in San Marcos). My project director is trying to find me a placement with the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations if I choose to stay on with Peace Corps for the remainder of my service and not return to Tejutla. How stupid would I be to turn down a job opportunity with the UN at 23 years old? Pretty stupid. How regretful would I feel leaving a school unfinished? Pretty regretful.

Stay tuned...

Last night I fell asleep happy after visiting Doña Silvia and her children for late-night coffee and bread. The following morning, I awoke to feelings of discontent. Again.

This has been my MO for the past week.

I calmly attempt to make decision of what to do with life. Have congratulatory piece of chocolate for having made said decision. Then, Sonia, my counterpart will call to ask where I am and tell me that she loves me. For the 4th time that day. I break down. Have 42839408 pieces of pity chocolate. Become angry. Decide I am staying. Re-read e-mails from my Mother. Decide it's too dangerous to stay. Maybe.

After reading a very uplifting e-mail from a close friend, who told me that he has "faith that you will make the decision that needs to be made, and take care of those who are close to you," I found new resolve.

Perhaps all of my incessant and squirrel-like fretting over my situation has in fact, made it more difficult. Okay, I admit this is pretty self-evident; but it appeared as a near-revelation for me. What really had my emotions strangled was not my life, but the lives I have come to know while here. The relationships I've made. I must serve them first, and in a way, I will be serving myself. All will come to pass in time.

I read the Doctor Seuss book my parents gave to me after high school graduation, "Oh! The Places You'll Go." In the front right page, my wonderful step-father had written:

"Look to this day, for in its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your existence...the bliss of growth, the story of action, the splendor of beauty. For yesterday is already a dream and ...tomorrow only a vision. But every day well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness and every tomorrow a vision of hope."

With new conviction, I decided that I will leave Peace Corps at the end of this month. However, I will let each day that passes from then to now be filled with "all the verities and realities" of the life I've grown to love here in Guatemala.

Which brings us to today. I spent the day preforming check-ups on 6 pregnant women with Sonia.

Our schedule:

Meet at 5:45am

Wait for a bus

Hour to two-hour journey to the village we are visiting

Begin "the pregnant-lady search," as I like to call it. OK, we're doing a "census" for expecting mothers to get their vitals, hand them vitamins, and make sure they know when to come to the "Casa Materna" to have their babies. Talk with them. Calm their fears.

Today, in a period of 5 hours, I saw the worst and best of this country I've come to love.

We visited a 15 year old whose pregnancy is unknown to everyone except myself, Sonia, and her mother for fear of discrimination; the supposed father is a man in his 60s who lives in the adjacent house. She is in middle school.

On our way to visit another mother, we encountered a tremendously happy and bright 3 year old girl who insisted that we take pictures of everything so she could scream in excitement as I showed them to her (many children, due to malnutrition, basically look like zombies with minimal facial recognition or interaction with the world, same as the adults. It is an extreme pleasure to witness a child that has interest in her world). We listened to "Goin' to the Chapel" on my iPod. She was delighted.

We visited a mother whose previous daughter had died at 2 months old for unknown reasons while her husband had abandoned her. She just gave birth last week, prematurely, to a baby girl. They are doing well.

I talked with a girl my age about her baby who is due tomorrow - she wants it to be a boy. In appreciation of our visit, her mother gifted Sonia and I some beautiful cactus that is widely used in this part of Guatemala and Southern Mexico to soothe inflammation - "Toni" it is called.

As we made our way home, we had to cross a river where local men were removing sand and rocks for construction. Looks like those materials didn't get used to build the bridge we had to cross:

I came home dirty, tired, and mildly sun burnt; the usual. I had experienced the heartbreaking, the heartwarming, and the frightening. But I was home.

Walking through the forest with one of the teachers I work with a few weeks ago, he remarked to me as I kept falling over all of the branches and roots on the ground, "You know Elizabeth, this isn't life, it's just walking - it doesn't have to be so hard." I laughed at his casual wisdom.

This has not been the easiest of paths, Peace Corps, but it has indeed been the most rewarding yet. I am leaving one home to go back to another, be it by walking, stumbling, broken-down bus, plane, or make-shift wooden plank bridge. I have lived every minute of it - and lived it well.

Yesterday I talked the kid who works at one of the used American clothing stores in town down from 60Quetzales (about $6) to 25Q ($3) for a pair of Steve Madden ballet flats. I told him no one else had feet as big as mine in Uspantan and therefore I was the only potential client for the shoes.

Total win.

Silly Mags assumed that everyone in the states would have a camera. WRONG! Well, they do. They use their smart phones. Anyway, I do not have one photo from my week stay in Kansas. I had such a wonderful time, catching up with great friends, reuniting with Leawood South, meeting babies, seeing wedding albums, visiting Kelly's, and enjoying Christmas with the family. I could easily post three dozen photos of Addison, but don't quite have the Internet velocity to do so. She is precious!

Funny things that happened in the states (that I choose to make public)

- Having a personal conversation with my friend in Guatemala when Dad pulls up in the car, the smart phone cuts off, and my friend is now sharing her personal life with a car full of people via blue tooth radio

- Jumping out of a box to surprise Mums...almost gave her a heart attack

- Daddio falling asleep during my PC Guatemala presentation to the girls youth group

- I have to admit- going to the wrong airport and missing my flight back to Guatemala

- Hilarious responses while playing "The Game of Things"

NYE Crew! Best New Years Eve, EVER!! We hung out in our hotel suite and played board games!

Arran and Addison at the NY Day family run. I had some great chats with RPCV's.

Let's go MAV's!! I was able to go to TWO games. We had a blast! One night the man behind me caught a t-shirt and then gave it to me. Very exciting.

Family photo from Shrek Ice Museum. Recognize this photo from last year? Family tradition. I genuinely missed my friends, family, team and routines here in Guatemala. I thought about my Guatemalan life a lot while in the states.

I almost forgot how super busy December was! It was such a great month.

I had my first off road bike experience. Thomas, Luis and I rode our bikes about 20K to the Ixchimche ruins. We actually didn't get to go in and see the ruins, but enjoyed the trip.

 My amazing basketball team threw a big surprise going away (for the holidays) party for me! Everyone brought something to share with the team. We ate lots of delicious food. Traditionally, everyone "dar-ed palabras" or shared words with me. This was definitely the highlight for me. My teammates and coach commented on my sportsmanship and team spirit. They mentioned how Patzun and Guatemala are not used to this type of comradery. More than winning two championships, I am proud that I was able to share sportsmanship and team spirit with my team. I guess the awkwardness of being the only one shaking hands before and after games, and encouraging my teammates to cheer paid off!

Birthday Festivities! Daddio was happy to remind me that I am now on the other side...closer to 30! Hector enjoyed this and continues to remind me.

Again, my amazing basketball team threw me a surprise birthday party! I got to play a game on my birthday, which we won. Unfortunate, minor injury- sprained ankle. And then the team came over with cake, drinks, and flowers!!

 Hector's brother, Julio, organized a huge birthday lunch for me. He brought delicious meat and tons of other food from Guatemala City. They all sang me happy birthday in English and in Spanish! And we ate another cake.  My site mates organized a delicious birthday dinner! Laura made me hilarious t-shirts. Lyd gave me a cute shirt. Lhess got me the Glee Concert DVD! WUU! 

Estela graduated from Nursing School in Antigua! After the ceremony, we went to her home in a village of Patun to celebrate with her family. It was touching how proud they were.

World AIDS Day!! As I mentioned months ago, I have been working with the Social Worker from the Health Center. Wtih funding from PEPFAR we organized a walk and forum for approximately 200 youth and 30 adults.

It was one of the most successful experiences I have had in my service. I especially enjoyed the awareness walk through town. Everything was broadcasted on the local radio station. The students got involved, wearing matching t-shirts and preparing posters with messages. We handed out fliers to Patzuneros that were on the streets outside of their homes. Lyd and I planned a surprise scavenger hunt for Lo's birthday! It was a blast! Everyone got really into and were creative with their roles.

Last weekend when I got back from Chirrepec, Chris and I had the opportunity to visit an organic farm close to our house, called Caoba Farms. We walked there on Sunday for an outdoor event they were hosting. It was super exciting to discover all the local vendors with homemade candles and local veggies for sale. They also had a BBQ going with veggie burgers and organic salad bar..yum! We ran into a lot of people and had a great afternoon just wandering around the grounds. The best part was the discovery of two new beers that are being imported to Antigua from Brooklyn Brewery in NY. Guatemala's beer selection is quite poor, so adding new brews to the mix is a big deal. One is a lager and the other an IPA, both delicious and very welcome into our local scene! In front of the beautiful crops

Chris with Josh and Heenal from Hug it Forward

Enjoying the new brews!

Months ago, a group of women in another aldea (village) asked that my site mate and I teach them to make soap. We agreed, and went through a series of hygiene charlas (talks, trainings, activities...) with them as we did the research to teach ourselves how to make it and how to manage the logistics of doing it with them in their community.

At first we gathered the supplies and tried doing it on our own to iron out any kinks in the process. Good thing, too, because we were going based on phoned in advice from another volunteer, and something crucial was lost in the process and our soap did not turn out. At all.

So we jumped through some hoops to import our very own soap making expert volunteer to show us how it was done. It turned out that we'd done everything right, but just needed to stir a little faster, and voila! Success!

Day 1: Boil 5 gallons water. Mix it with 5 gallons used oil (we bought from a fried chicken place). Add 7 bottles of lye. Mix rapidly stirring only clockwise for one to three hours, until the mixture is thick enough that it doesn't drip off your stirring stick when it is pulled out. Cover the mixture, let it set for 24 hours in a cool dry location.

Our cautionary warnings of wearing protective materials (left) and the steps to make soap on the first day (right).

Our host, Maria, all suited up to take her turn at stirring.

I stirred with another woman, so she could get the idea of the speed and rhythm needed.

My site mate whipping up the mixture toward the end of the process.

Our soap, left to set up over night.


Day 2: Uncover the soap and pour off any excess oil that remains in the mixture. If the soap set hard, cut it into bars/chunks and wrap them in newspaper. If the soap remains like a cookie dough texture, ball it up and wrap it in newspaper. Leave wrapped in a cool, dry location for 4-6 weeks to cure.

It felt wonderful to finally be able to deliver on our promise. To successfully make it through the two day soap making process while teaching in Q'eqchi'. And, to share a bit of our site with a friend from training.

January’s motto: Be open and ready for whatever happens! This month has been just a whirlwind of activities, both good and bad, and another Peace Corps rollercoaster of emotions but it’s ending on a positive note.

First of all, Peace Corps Guatemala has been going through a lot of changes due to security issues in northern Central America. So, this month has been stressful just learning about the new changes, but given time to think about them and as I’m not nearly as affected by them as other volunteers are, I’m okay with them. And they are to keep us safe, which is definitely necessary. I got a new counterpart (YAY) because a new administration came in and fired everyone from the old administration. He’s awesome! He actually wants to work with me and we have much better communication. I also finally know more or less what I’m doing, which is so nice. Only took 9 months! But I’m working with women’s groups, making jewelry and purses out of old chip bags for them to sell, teaching English again, working with the teachers in the middle school to make gardens in the school, and teaching the Agroforestry class once a week. It’s pretty crazy too- I just got a call saying I have funds and a group from the states who are willing to come down and help build a recycling center for the municipality. This would be a huge project, but I would be really stupid to refuse funds and free labor. Hopefully the mayor’s up for it! I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Let’s see…interesting things I have done…I went to the beach! Which was so wonderful! It made me realize that I am meant to be at the beach, no matter what. I love Santa Maria and couldn’t be any luckier to be near Lake Atitlan, but the beach feels so comfortable. My happy place is always St. Teresa beach in Florida so whenever I'm stressed out, I just close my eyes and pretend I'm there. It helps a lot! Our family vacation was SO GREAT too! I’m moving next month too, which is going to be a relief. Hopefully no more back problems once I get a better bed! I will also be inheriting a cat from the other volunteer, and even though she’s a sassy cat who does what she wants, it will be nice to have a pet!

THINGS I HAVE DONE IN THE PAST YEAR OF BEING IN THE PEACE CORPS THAT I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD DO 1. Pick Coffee2. Teach a class on the carbon cycle in Spanish (hard!)3. Dry my underwear in a frying pan on the stove (=burnt underwear)4. Dry my underwear in the toaster oven (=success!)5. Look forward to my cup of instant coffee every day6. Learn how to sew a collared shirt7. Spend Christmas at the Earth Lodge overlooking Antigua8. Meet so many amazing, talented people (whether artists, musicians, dancers, writers, weavers, Guatemala’s got talent! And it provides so much hope in spite of all the violence and drugs)9. Heard the national anthem of any country so many times (I think I’ve heard the Guatemalan Himno Nacional more than the national anthem of the United States)10. Learn to like beets and crave Moon Pies11. Go to a Mayan ceremony/be in a Mayan site for December 21, 2012, the beginning of a new era!12. Sleep in my sleeping bag for 10 months. (don't worry, I wash it a lot) 13. Be away from home for over a year (this one I don't like so much)14. Wear traje

whiplash is my curse here. it's like everyday is a thousand days with a billion little moments in each one. this up and down. me beaming. literally like fool with a smile that i can't get rid of. or me just wanting to curl up in bed with a book and forget the world.

the year has had kind of a rough start. just being pulled out of almolonga for meetings ect. and feeling behind in my work. but this week i got things back under control (wait a sec, who am i kidding, well as much control as possible here).

Tuesday and Wednesday I put on a workshop for all of the schools I work with (14 total). The workshop is called 'Project Design and Management', basically it gives the leaders at each school the tools that they need to plan out a small infrastructure project in a systematic way. And the kicker- it went really well!!!!! who woulda thought? Anyway, it was so encouraging to read their evaluations (i think im going to hang them up in my room, nothing like 'we love you samata/samanda/shamata to get me out the door in the morning'). It just made me so pumped for the school year, people are starting to get it, starting to want to make positive changes in their schools.

in other news:

1.) a friend loaned me a guitar and it has drastically improved my quality of life (although the songs ive written of late are a bit 'rage'ish)

2.) earthquakes FREAK ME OUT! just cuz im not used to them... when the cabinets start shaking i get nervous. (but the best is being on the phone with my dad... me 'whoa an earthquake' my dad 'GET OUTSIDE NOW') that's love.

3.) i want a dog. yes. yes, i do.

4.) i visited a school and a little girl shyly opened the door, i asked to come in, she stared at me for a while and slammed the door shut. then i heard 'Seño, Seño, there's a señora out there with blueish green eyes'. priceless.

After events in January forced me to process leaving earlier on than I wanted to, I’ve realized it’s time to start reflecting on my time here. I’ll break it down by natural phases in the “PCV cycle”. Today’s reflection will be training... January to March, 2010 I arrived in Guatemala just over two years ago, with a backpack full of irrelevant clothing items and a flamboyant mixture of excitement and tension about what the future would hold. As the friend of many Guatemala RPCVs, and girlfriend of a Guatemalan I'd met at graduate school, I carried no small load of expectations.

My old room: is this heaven or is it hell...? I remember our training director picking us up at the airport. We rode to the training center on a chartered school bus and I sat next to a guy with whom I would soon share a training community, chatting about my plans to build a solar shower and keep a garden wherever I lived. (Riiiiight.) I like structure. I have to admit that I enjoyed training, from day one, perhaps a little more than the average trainee. My host mother was a good cook. She sort of understood the concept of vegetarianism. Each week we had four days of Spanish, one day at the training center, and a weekly tech training session. I hadn’t brought a computer, so each night meant studying, reading for pleasure, and chatting with my boyfriend long-distance. It felt like summer camp. There was always the looming doubt: would I stay? Could I deal two years without my boyfriend? I had some retrospectively pretty funny issues with cultural and linguistic misunderstandings. Yet... I was pretty content on a daily basis. The most uncomfortable parts of training for me were adapting my intestinal flora, living with a flea-infestation in my bed, and trying to connect with my semi-apathetic host family. (They had had between fifteen and twenty volunteers before me - I guess you lose track around ten? - and there were no small children in the house, as I had hoped, so it was pretty much like living in a boarding house at first.) I loved many parts of training, though. I loved Spanish lessons. I loved Field-Based Training. I loved giving my first hands-on lesson in the community. My boyfriend, coincidentally, was doing fieldwork in Guatemala, and I got to see him every two weeks. I loved that. I less than loved the absurdity of our project with the local mayor, but I could deal. And my host parents and I reached some sort of mutual admiration -- after two baby showers and countless Sunday mornings of hellfire and brimstone in church together. Then came the day of our site assignment. I got a medium-sized town of 6,000 whose name I couldn’t pronounce. I had wanted a tiny community in the middle of the wild. It was my fault, as I hadn’t spoken up to my program director. I was bummed, for the first time in country. After my site visit, though, I kind of got over it - the first hint of the crazy rollercoaster that would be Peace Corps service. My town seemed to have a lot of potential. Lots of forest, female office-mates, a non-creepy counterpart. It didn’t hurt my optimism that I was about to have the first long weekend with my boyfriend in three months. I was flying pretty high, in complete denial. At that point I even harbored secret fantasies that I might be a town hero after two years. If I’d only known...

This song is for you, dear friend. I hope to see you again one day. Until then, keep inspiring me and thank you. 

Hello again!

I have officially made it 2 weeks in this years coldest place on earth. I am starting to get the hang of living here- as long as I am dressed appropriately normally the cold really isn't too bad! I finally received the huge box of blankets, jackets, snow pants, and other warm clothing so I feel much better equipped to handle being in -30 to -50 degree weather everyday. The weather man keeps telling us that we should have a break in the cold and it be up to a toasty 25 degrees ABOVE zero by tomorrow, but I'm not so sure!!! This past weekend it was below -50 so we ended up staying inside watching movies, playing board games (Chris my roommate is a fanatic when it comes to board games) and praying we didn't have to leave the house! Chris and I did venture out long enough to throw hot water from a pot and see it freeze in midair which is what the picture that looks like a bomb went off is!!! It's funny talking to native Alaskan's about doing things like that because they all say "it never occurred to me to try that!" I guess it's like flying kites at the beach for us! Even though it was cold by Sunday both Chris and I were going stir crazy and decided during the afternoon when the sun was out to bundle up and venture to the grocery store, Fred Meyers, about a mile away. It was really nice to get out but by the time we arrived we both had an ice mustache, our eyelashes were completely white with frost, and all my nose hairs were frozen. It was pretty hilarious looking! The good thing about this kind of weather is that it is so dry here as soon as you walk back inside you immediately shake the cold! Fairbanks is actually considered a tundra/desert so I have to constantly remind myself to drink water! While in the grocery store we discovered santat claus' favorite coffee: ST. NICKERDOODLE! hahahaha I thought you all would enjoy that! I thought it was quite charming! Well time to get back to the grind but look out for more post next week!

So last week all the volunteers and staff met up in Xela to discuss the recent changes that are being made to Peace Corps Guatemala. The Regional Director, Carlos Torres came from Washington DC to speak to us about his decisions. He said that he believes that the person responsible for the decision should always be present to explain it, back it up, and answer questions, and I think a lot of people appreciated hearing it straight from the source. He showed us about an hour long PowerPoint with charts and grafts and a timeline, so that we were clear as to why and when these decisions were made.

He said that it all started in early 2011, when the 2010 Portfolio Review was assessed. The Portfolio Review is a document that looks at a number of criteria and areas such as goal achievement and safety and security. The 2010 report identified a rising number of crimes against volunteers in several countries, and therefore was an issue that needed to be addressed. So they analyzed the trends in crime, evaluated the effectiveness of their procedures, looked at their training protocol, and gathered recommendations. Then all the Country Directors in the region got together to see how they could work to reduce trends and create new strategies.

From this meeting, seven major recommendations were identified and implemented in select countries with the higher crime rates. They decided that volunteers would now need to live with a host family for the full two years of their service (older volunteers like Carrie, who already were living alone in an apartment were grandfathered in). Secondly, Peace Corps would notify invitees of the risks in an effort to be more transparent. They began to analyze statistics and monitor date more closely. The staff to volunteer ratio was increased, and there was also an effort to improve staff quality along with the quantity. The sixth recommendation was to strengthen site identification and preparation, to ensure that volunteers were not going to be sent to areas that were potentially unsafe. Lastly, the directors decided to strengthen and make similar the policies and the handbooks across the country posts for consistency. As of before, even neighboring countries could have very different policies and this sometimes led to confusion.

Then Carlos Torres showed us lots of graphs and charts about crime rate and statistics, which I won’t get into since I don’t want to excessively worry anyone (Gabby). Things usually look worse on paper. But basically it came down to the fact that the Northern Triangle (Guatemala, Honduras and El Salvador) are some of the more dangerous Peace Corps posts. They are not too dangerous that we cannot be here, but in order to continue with the post, some changes need to be made and put into effect immediately to ensure volunteer safety. I hope that his slide show shut the volunteers up who were saying that we didn’t come here to be safe, and that we already knew about the dangers. There are enough places in need of education and health, etc. in this country and in the world that there is no reason why anyone should have to compromise their personal safety in order to serve as a volunteer. If you want to put yourself in danger, you can come do it on your own time, with your own money, not on the part of the U.S. government.

The next step was to analyze the crime data even more closely; they looked at the time and day of the week, age, sex, motive, location, if it was a repeat victim, was a weapon used, was there an injury, was it in the capital, etc. They also looked at the Volunteer Surveys we filled out in 2011. This data said that in Guatemala, 72% of volunteers feel safe where they live, 63% where they work, and 70% in the location of the PC Headquarters office. Although that is the majority in every case, that still leaves 28% who don’t feel safe where they live and 37% who don’t feel safe where they work, so that needed to be addressed. And what really stood out was that only 15% of volunteers said that they felt safe while they were travelling.

Then, in December, a Peace Corps conference was held due to all this data and the fact that congress was concerned and the director was receiving more and more letters of concern. The 2011 Portfolio Review indicated that drastic measures needed to be taken. The director came up with three options for the three countries that make up the Northern Triangle. Option A was “in country management,” meaning that changes would be implemented while the volunteers were in the country. Option B was “mandatory administrative hold in the U.S.,” meaning that the volunteers would need to temporarily go home while the changes were made. And Option C was “immediate suspension” of the program, meaning the volunteers would need to be pulled out the country while the situation was assessed and they made more serious changes, possibly shutting down the post. Honduras, being the most dangerous post with the most amounts of incidents, got Option B. El Salvador and Guatemala got option A.

But to have this Option A, there was a cost to it. It meant that volunteer numbers had to be reduced. Option A is the best option because it allows volunteers to stay in the country and keep working, but we could not have this option and retain the 220 plus current volunteers. So there was an incoming training class suspension, an early COS (close of service) option for any volunteers who feels unsafe and a forced early COS for the next two groups in line to leave. There was also the new transport system that was put into effect immediately (Peace Corps vans that drive us to and from places). Off-limits areas were extended to rule out travel to unsafe areas. Also, a huge change that is about to go into effect is that all volunteers will be clustered to the Northern Highlands. By clustering us, we can all utilize the new transport system and we will also not be travelling all the way across the country to see our friends. They cannot prohibit us from travelling, so they had to make it more accessible, safer and reduce the distance we were travelling.

Many volunteers are being forced to leave their sites and they have the difficult decision of choosing whether they want to start completely over again in a new site, or take the early COS option. Some volunteers are halfway into their service and already were integrated into their communities and had projects going, so the thought of starting over again seems a bit daunting. Since a lot of people are leaving due to forced early COS (my group and Carrie and Eric’s group) a lot of sites that are already ready for volunteers will open up. I have my hopes up that someone will come to replace Carrie and Eric this month! So there will no longer be far away, very remote sites that volunteers work in. People were mad because due to so many people being made to leave early or relocated, hundreds/thousands of people won’t receive the infrastructure projects that they were going to.

Someone tallied up the numbers and confronted the Regional Director about it, and he said that he had to think long term. Maybe by sending people home early, right now, in this moment, there will be a lot of people who don’t receive infrastructure projects (the work of Health Homes and Health Schools), but it will pave the way for in the future, more volunteers being able to come into Guatemala and work and serve even more people. He said that there is no perfect decision that will make everyone happy, and he did what he thought was right. He had to make a decision, or congress would do it for him if we continued to operate in areas deemed “high risk.” People want exceptions to the decision, to be able to stay and finish up their projects and tie up loose ends, but he stated that he simply can’t get into exceptions, because it leads into judgment calls and would expand into Honduras and El Salvador. He said he really has the long term country impact in mind, and that by making these decisions now, it will hopefully lead to greater volunteer support, with the new rules a better commitment, and a more positive experience overall because it will be safer.

The goal now is to get the number down to 120 volunteers. Once all the changes are made and things settle down, the situation can be reviewed again to see if the post is ready for new volunteers to come in. I think that this will not be until 2013, so in many places like Zaragoza, projects like Youth Development will be put on hold for at least a year. It is kind of a bummer knowing that nobody will be replacing you and carrying on with the work that we have been doing, but such is life. The director vowed that the decision was not budget related, as some people thought, and that he actually received more money to make all these changes. The problem is really just that there are too many of us right now to manage effectively. And by giving people an option to leave without quitting, the volunteers that will be left here in country will hopefully be very dedicated to their work and the new rules and the process of recreating Peace Corps Guatemala.

As I promised before, my next blog will be about me. I just wanted to get all the facts and details out there before I talk about how it all applies to me and how I personally feel about it.

It is amazing how quickly things can change in one instant, one second, one moment. Looking back at the beginning of this month, I was so hopeful and excited for 2012. Despite feeling a bit lost in terms of where PC stood in Guatemala, I was ready for 2012 and excited for my second year of service. That all changed too fast. About two weeks ago I was across the country in Xela for In-Service Training (IST) with the people from my project and training group. It was supposed to be a two day meeting and so I was staying at the hotel PC was hosting the meeting in. The point of the meeting was to help plan for the new school year and to give us ideas of what sort of projects, workshops, and activities to do in our sites. It definitely helped to motivate me and gave me some ideas I wanted to develop in my site. The evening of the first day I was out with a few friends just grabbing a beer before dinner and catching up since some of us hadn't seen each other in awhile. In the midst of chatting and hanging out, we get a text from PC on our cells alerting us to check our emails for an important announcement from PC-Guatemala. None of us were obviously by computers so I called a friend that I knew was home and could tell me what this was all about. He read me a few of the important lines.

It began with: "I would like to take this opportunity to explain our immediate plans to enhance safety and security for Volunteers serving in Guatemala." It then went on to dispel rumors of PC-G shutting down. "Peace Corps is committed to continuing the longstanding excellent relation we have shared with the people and counterpart organizations in Guatemala for nearly 50 years." We were then informed about an All-Volunteer Conference taking place the following week, in the same location I currently was in for my meeting, to discuss these "immediate plans" in detail. And then they gave us some brief, ambiguous details as to the new "immediate plans". 1. All incoming training groups for 2012 are cancelled and they expect to have the next group of trainees arrive in 2013. 2. The volunteers set to COS (Close-Of-Service aka finish their 27 months) in March and July 2012, now have to COS February and March, respectively. 3. PC-G will refocus its geographic area and consolidate operations in the "Central Western Highlands". Volunteers working outside of that area "may be relocated to existing sites in the Central Western Highlands to the extent that they are available, or they may also be granted early COS." 4. Early COS will be granted to any volunteer that wants it, regardless of time spent in Guatemala.

So, I received the gist of this over the phone. Didn't really process it at first, went back inside to the table my friends were sitting at, and told them what I was told. As the words rolled off my tongue, it sunk in..."relocated to existing sites in the Central Western Highlands." Tears swelled in my eyes and I had to excuse myself and step outside. Did this mean me? Did I have to leave my site, the place where I finally felt like I belonged, like I was part of the community? Maybe not...Central Western Highlands, what did that mean? Technically, Baja Verapaz is in the center of the country, and has some high lands. And if it did mean me when did I have until to leave? So many questions, no answers. I called the Safety and Security Coordinator and asked him if he could tell me if my site counted as a site in or out of the new refocused region. "Sorry, Natalie, but I'm not allowed to disclose that information yet." What?! What does that even mean? I took it as a no, no I'm not in the region that gets to stay. I cried for a bit, talked to my site mate while we continued to digest this bit of information and then went back in and spent the rest of my night wondering what was going to happen and if we really did have to leave.

The next day was supposed to be the second day of our IST. I think you can imagine that with news like that dropped the night before, no one was focused or the slightest bit interested in IST anymore. The director of our program cut the crap and told us what departments of the country had to relocate. I had to move. (If I had not happened to be at this meeting I would have had to wait to find this out either through the PC rumor mill or until the All-Volunteer-Conference the following week.) I had such a wide range of emotions that I couldn't even process them all. I was upset. Upset that I had to leave a place I grew to call home and had community ties too. Upset that the women I had just begun to start a grant application with for a stoves project were now going to be let down. I was angry. Angry at the lack of communication from PC administration. How long have they known? A mere two weeks before I had spoken with my Project Specialist to ask her if it was a good idea to start this grant application given the current circumstances of PC and the feeling of uncertainty that loomed. I told her the last thing I wanted was to start the process and get the women motivated and excited just to have to let them down if PC decided to pull out. No, she assured me, PC is running normally. Go ahead with application. So you can see how anger resulted when two weeks later that exact thing occurred. I felt betrayed by PC administration and their lack transparency. I felt like all I had worked on until now did not matter to them. I felt frustrated at the lack of control I had on the situation. I felt disappointed with PC as an organization for the manner in which they had handled the situation and the way they were treating me. I felt deceived into thinking I would get the normal 27 month service I was promised. It was a lot to handle.

Since the All-Volunteer Conference (AVC) was going to be held in the same place I was currently already at in a couple days, it didn't make much sense for me to go on a 9-10 hour ride back home, to be home for one day, and to then have to go all the way back again. Since I couldn't go home then, I went to Lake Atitlan for the weekend to relax, sift through my thoughts, and figure out what I was going to do. At this point, I was going through waves of emotions. For some periods of time I would feel fine as though I had finally accepted the situation. Other times I would just get sad all over again and cry. Other moments I would get waves of anger again and curse PC. It was exhausting and it was about to get worse.

It was time for the AVC and having about 200 angry/upset volunteers, PC-G staff and administration, Regional Security Coordinator for Latin America, and a few folks from Headquarters in Washington, DC, in one room was going to prove to be overwhelming and mentally and emotionally exhausting. Thankfully, they began with the heart of the matter: why was this happening and why now? Carlos Torres, the Regional Safety and Security Coordinator, gave a presentation on how this came about. He gave us a timeline of events. Guatemala, along with Honduras and El Salvador, had been coming in the spotlight recently for alarming statistics on violence and crime. July 2010: An analysis report on the region to investigate what's going on. December 2010: Report completed and received by Carlos Torres. March 2011: Teams are sent to the region for "fact finding". April 2011: The World Bank releases a study on violence and crime in Central America stating: "...the entire population of Central America is approximately the same as that of Spain, but while Spain registered 336 murders, Central America recorded 14,257 murders in the same year." More attention on Central America. May 2011: Sub-Regional Safety and Security Conference in El Salvador for PC Country Directors and security staff in Central American posts. November 2011: New rules and policies implemented in PC-G due to concerns brought up at the May conference. New statistics on crime and violence on volunteers in Guatemala: 1 in 10, or 10%, of volunteers in PC-G have been involved in a serious crime from the last three COS groups, compared to the 3.1% global rate for PC. Only 15% of current volunteers felt safe traveling in country from a survey conducted in 2011. December 2011: PC in Central America reconvenes to discuss next steps in reducing crime statistics. January 11, 2012: Final decision memo signed for the immediate plans of PC-G. January 19, 2012: We got the email.

It felt good to finally have PC be open and straightforward with us, despite the tardiness of it all. The presentation, however, made me sad to hear the reality of PC-G, and Honduras and El Salvador for that matter. It made me sad to hear how unsafe people felt and how this was the service we were having. But it also made me question if PC was trying too hard to stay committed to 50 years of service in a country that on paper appears to be quite dangerous and has one of the highest homicide rates in the world. Carlos Torres seemed appalled by the fact that volunteers in this region are trained during our initial training period where best to sit on a bus in case of a shoot out and what steps to take to avoid being shot. I began to realize that these things become our norm. Granted, I feel relatively safe in my site and I feel safe traveling around my site and the nearby areas, but there are parts of the country I don't and no matter what you are always on guard. Living in Guatemala you get used to the fear associated with transport. As Carlos said, you're trained in it, you expect it. It's not the kind of fear though where you think someone is going to assault you at any moment. It's just an underlying thought you don't even realize is there.

And, yet, even though we finally were receiving this information on what had been going on all along, I wish they would have been more open about it sooner and told us along the process what was going on. PC administration talked about how the next group of trainees that get here in January 2013 are going to be recruited differently and made aware of the risks and dangers associated with serving here in Guatemala. Well, ya know, I woulda loved if someone had seriously told me the risks and dangers of Guatemala before coming. I didn't know how dangerous it actually was until I got here and went into training. Partially my fault for not researching enough before arriving? Maybe. But I guess I just assumed if it were that serious I would have been warned beforehand.

So after a lot of tears, anger, resentment, and backlash thrown out at the administration, the three day conference ended. It was filled with other things I didn't mention, such as counselors, resume building sessions, support sessions, etc. that were indeed helpful, but still overload. I was drained and exhausted from it all. And on top of that, it was my birthday on the last day of the conference. I think it was the first time in my life I didn't feel excited for my birthday really. Is that part of getting old? I don't think so, I love birthdays. Just too much going on.

Now I find myself in a confusing and uncertain place. After much consideration, I decided to opt out of taking a site change. I have worked hard in my site here to get to where I am today with the Healthy Schools program and getting to know people in my community. I finally feel like I am in a good place and now I'm being forced to leave. So if I move sites now, I'm going to have the exact allotment of time in that site as I have just had. How is that going to be satisfying, to go through all that introductory crap all over again to finish in the same place I am now? I love my community and town here. I just don't think I can emotionally and mentally go through starting over. I signed up for two years in one place. That's the whole point of PC is. Everyone says you get the most work done in your second year because you've gone through hell and back the first year and finally know how things work in your site and in Guatemala. I got the perfect quote from one of my Yogi teas during all this that enlightened me on the situation. "Wherever you go, go with all of your heart." I knew that wouldn't be the case if I decided to stay and go to a different site. I can't help but feel jealousy towards all the other volunteers that get to stay in their sites and continue working. It feels so unfair that I don't have that option but that's just the way things are. Everything happens for a reason and this is giving me the opportunity for new beginnings. It is difficult, though, because I have no idea what to do next. I've been considering possibly staying in Guatemala and finding a job for just a couple of months with an NGO or non-profit. But then I change my mind and decide to travel for a month and then go home. Then I change my mind and decide to apply to medical school. And then other times I have no idea at all. The semi-good news is that PC is letting my women's group and I finish our grant application for the stove project. If we can prove it can get done in the time I have left in site (which I forgot to mention is until March 24), then they will give us the funds and we can carry out the project. Even if we don't get the funds approved, I like that they are giving us a chance, some hope. The women still gain valuable experience in carrying out the application and, if denied, at least they feel like they had a chance instead of being let down in the prospect of applying.

I can't believe I have two month left in site, less than that actually. Reading my last blog post made me sad seeing how hopeful and excited I was a few weeks ago about my year ahead with PC. I've experienced a lot of hurt since then and it is for that reason it has taken me so long to write a post about it. I guess ever since I've been back in site I have been alright and haven't gotten upset or angry about it because I was tired of thinking about it and being upset and angry. I've moved into acceptance somewhat and writing this post meant tapping back into all of those emotions again. But, in the end, sharing my thoughts and feelings on this is probably better for me. And in the future I will look back and read this and see how much has changed since then. I like to think it's moments like these that give us growth.

I started to write this post many times, stopping each time and thinking that it wasn't the right time to write it. I was still too confused and had too many emotions flying around to write something that wouldn't be driven by them. I realized tonight that those emotions won't be going away for awhile and it makes more sense to get them on page now before they do.

A little background on the situation: In the last week Peace Corps Guatemala has made the decision to drastically lower the number of volunteers in the country down to around 100, from about 220 that are here at the moment. The group that came before me was told they would be leaving one month before their scheduled COS (Close of Service) date, which was March 24th and is now February 24th. Shortly after they got their news my group received notice that we would have to leave four months before our COS date which was July 18th and is now March 24th. Everyone else who is left will have to deal with stricter rules and possibly having to leave their sites. Part of this whole process to make things safer involves a good portion of the remaining volunteers having to leave their homes, friends, and communities to be moved to departments that PC Washington feels are the safest. The reasons they decided to take these actions is because of the increasing problems with drug traffickers and security incidents that all too often are felt by the volunteer community in the "Northern Triangle". The Northern Triangle consists of three countries in the northern part of Central America; Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala. There has been plenty in the news of the murders and drug related crimes going on in all three of these countries and as such it has been named "the most dangerous part of the world outside of an active war-zone". All three countries are in the top 10 for most murders in the year 2010. The staff in charge of Latin America in Peace Corps Washington decided that in order to continue serving in these three countries, all of the PC populations would have to be reduced in order to provide better security and safer services to its volunteers.

First of all, I would like to note that I feel safe in this country. I haven't had a single security incident and have never felt unsafe to the point where I couldn't continue living here, but I know people who have been in serious incidents (i.e.- Armed Assaults, Bus Robberies) and know that they don't feel the same way that I do. I also feel that, as much as I disagree with what is going on, that PC Washington had no choice but to take the actions they currently are to make things safer for us. It is unfortunate that my whole group are the ones who are really losing out in this situation, being forced to leave 4 months early in the prime of our service, but the most important thing is that PC Guatemala will continue to exist and work with the people of Guatemala for as long as possible. When I say in the prime of our service I mean it takes a long time for people in your community to trust you, to believe you are here to help and more importantly believe that you are capable of delivering the help that they need. Factor in that for most people it takes about a year in site to fully master the language whether it be Spanish or a local Mayan Language. The point is that where we our right now in our service is the time when you really get things done, when you really have the ability to reach out to all the connections and friends you have made during your service and get them to work together to strengthen and help your community. Losing the ability to do projects that you have planned and worked on for months is hard to deal with. Luckily, I will be able to complete my projects by the time I leave in March, but for some of my friends that isn't the case. The worst part of the whole thing is that I have been telling my schools for almost two years now that when I leave someone will come in to replace me and continue working with them, and I just don't know if that is true anymore. There is a slight chance that I might be getting a volunteer who is being moved from their site to another one, but its not looking too good.

When I got the letter a week or so ago from our Country Director that I would be leaving four months early I had heard about it from the rumor mill earlier that day. So, receiving the letter finally didn't come as such a surprise, but it still affected me. Right after I read the e-mail I got texts and phone calls from a lot of my good friends and fellow volunteers, all of us just wanting someone to talk to about something we had no control over. I didn't really have any reaction to the news. I knew that it meant that I would have to head home well before I was ready to do so, also that I would have to leave my house, community, friends, work and new life earlier than planned. But, I didn't feel anything. Not anxiety or anger, just nothing. It was almost as if I was at peace with it. Ever since we got the option to leave early a month ago I had felt that I would probably use it and go home sometime in May, just to take advantage and get some extra time to travel before I headed home. Leaving four months early was something that I wasn't prepared for. It put a kink into my plans that I am still trying to unravel as I write this. Travel plans are being bumped up and so is the need to prepare myself for life in the US. From what I understand going back home is somewhat difficult and it takes time to get back into the swing of things after having been in a completely different culture for such a long time, I expect all of that to be true, I just assumed I would have time to mentally prepare myself for it.

A few days after getting the e-mail we had an All Volunteer Conference in Xela for 3 days and it was basically to explain to us why these steps were taken and what will be happening to PC Guatemala in the coming months. It was a good time to see a lot of the people I probably won't run into again with all the craziness that is going on for everyone at the moment. Some people already left, some will leave in the coming weeks and some will extend for a third year. I still haven't decided when I will leave, depending on when (or if) a new volunteer comes to my town I will decide then. I am thinking I will COS on March 19th or 20th, then stick around Guatemala and Central America doing some travel until the middle of April, after that I go home and into the unknown. I like being in the unknown, I seem to put myself there a lot. Traveling around moving from place to place and the biggest one to date was coming to the Peace Corps not speaking the language and having no idea where I would end up and who I would meet along the way. Its very possible that an even bigger unknown is the one that I face after I COS. Once I am done traveling and being with my PC friends I will head home to try to figure out the next step. Where will I live? Where will I work? What kind of job do I want to get? Will I go to Grad School? It's all kind of up in the air. I think I like it that way. Keeps me from being stuck in the same situation all the time, I could end up anywhere, the same way I did when I decided to join Peace Corps.

For now, I am spending time with the people who have made an impact on my life during my time here, and those that I will miss dearly when I am no longer in Guatemala. I am doing the work that I wanted to get done before I left, seeing the things that I had missed out on before, reading the books I didn't get to finish, going out when I don't really feel like it, laughing at the things that used to frustrate me, enjoying living in my house with concrete floors that is cold at all hours of the day even when its 90 degrees outside, saying hello to everyone I run into, talking with the kids who pass my house yelling PROFE KEVIN!!!, checking out the stars at night, stopping to appreciate where I live, hiking volcanoes I have no real interest in getting to the top of, enjoying being bored at all times, drinking with my friends, and taking some time to enjoy the sunsets I get to see every day and have not appreciated. Soon enough I will be back home with my friends and family being able to spend time with my new nephew, see my brothers and sister for more than a couple days, hug my parents, play with my dog, speak English, get back to the CHI!, and find a whole bunch of other things that I will miss when I move onto my next adventure. I look forward to seeing What Dreams May Come.

Yesterday, I had what I thought would be my last meeting with the “Chicken Ladies.”  They are getting ready to sell their chickens in a few weeks and I went to visit each of them in their houses to check on the chickens.  I’m proud to report that a large majority of the chickens are [...]

On "Counterpart Day", the last day of training, our counterparts came to take us to our sites.

There was a section of the agenda where we were to discuss with them our different cultural perspectives on universal concepts, such as family, work, gender, love. The municipal council member accompanying my counterpart spoke first: "Work is sacred," he said. "Everyone has the right to work."

Just a week ago, all the municipal employees met with the new mayor. Unlike most new mayors, he has no plan to fire anyone in order to make space for family members. The key part of his speech was that he expected quality work from us, but if we did not work hard, our jobs would be at risk. "Your work is sacred," he said. "Protect it."

Today I went to call on a friend's mother so I could borrow a key. I felt rude because I was rushed and didn't have time to chat. "I understand," she said. "It's your work. My daughter, too. That's a good thing. Work is sacred."

It seems like I've heard that a lot lately, and it's got me thinking hard to make sense of it. I suppose work would be considered sacred in a culture where the amount of work you do, the area of land you cultivate, the products you sell at market, directly relate to the amount of food on the table at night.

Work means a healthy family. It means the ability to live easier. It's survival. It's sacred because it's not necessarily something that everyone has, regardless of their merit. A plague or drought or crippling illness can affect anyone's work indiscriminately. Work, in a sense, is God-given.

I've always thought of work from the perspective of the industrial-age "Protestant work ethic," though. People who are smarter and work harder get better jobs. Some jobs are better than others. (Quick test here: Janitor or lawyer? Which does mainstream US and even Guatemalan culture suppose is better?) Work is not sacred, because it is something man controls. It is earned by man, not God-given.

But more and more, I think I can see the Mayan point of view. The recent economic crises have served as a reminder that we live in a complicated economic system, one that we hardly control. The crises have shown lots of people that there is no shame in working simply to put food on the table.

Point being: Work is not something everyone has. We shouldn't take our work for granted, or complain about it, whatever it is. We have to protect it - do it as well and with as much pride as we can, while knowing it can be taken just as it was given.

If we don't revere our work, we've lost sight of its basic meaning.

One day I was chatting with some friends over lunch. We were talking about US culture, how we are often so rushed working that we eat lunch standing or at our desks. One friend commented, "You know, that's so funny. It's impossible to get people from the communities [small villages in my municipality] to even come to an event during lunchtime."

Another agreed. "It's because they haven't lost perspective," he said. "We work to eat, not the other way around."

Your work is sacred. Protect it.

Peace Corps Guatemala has recently received a slew of unsettling news…the cancelling of incoming training classes until 2013, moving up of volunteers’ Close of Service (COS) dates, removal of volunteers from several sites and concentration of volunteers in the “western highlands” and most recently the offer of Early Close of Service due to security concerns for any and all volunteers here in Guatemala. And all of this coming at us upon our return from holiday vacations and visits home! It’s been impossible to not wonder about what this all means? What will come next… And how much I feel in and out of control of the situation. On one hand, my ability to complete my service depends on decisions I do not make or even directly influence. On the other hand, I have the reassurance and advantage of knowing that Peace Corps and the US government have my back. While they may not be able to stop every security threat or incident, they do all they can to protect me from those threats and will take care of me if an incident occurs.  I’ve thought about how this degree of protection articulates our very different status and experience here in Guatemala-one of the many privileges that will always distinguish us from the people we live and work with. When the going gets tough, for example in terms of security, we have a “pass” out of the country. When the going gets tough for our Guatemalan neighbors, counterparts and host families, they have no such privilege or choice but to stick it out and hope for the best. The feelings of guilt that have surfaced within me remind me of my experiences of disadvantage in other social settings: the clarity of feeling and seeing others’ power over me and their acute inability or unwillingness to see it. An article, Peggy McIntosh’s “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” illuminated this for me as a young 20-something year old in college, and this recent offer of “interrupted service” begins to illuminate it for me now: the many unearned and often unnoticed privileges I have as a “1st world” citizen. Although, I feel strongly that safety and the freedom to participate fully in society are rights everyone should have, I also realize that at this time, we do not all get to enjoy those rights and that as such, they are but privileges that some of us have and others want. What are the other privileges us “1st world” citizens have and benefit from? In an effort to better recognize and understand these privileges, I have written a working list. Here it goes… Please, add to this list other privileges you recognize… These are both privileges I receive in the “first world” and when I am identified as a “first world” citizen in other countries, specifically Guatemala. Some of these are rights I believe everyone should have. Others I feel warrant serious re-evaluation. 1. When I do not feel safe living abroad, I can return to my country of citizenship with the reasonable expectation of generally higher levels of safety. 2. If I am robbed or assaulted, I have reasonable confidence in the local police and justice system to process my report of the incident. 3. As a woman, I can walk alone on in my community and complete daily tasks without being regularly harassed, without changing my appearance or behavior in order to avoid harassment. 4. My expectation of access to clean water, electricity and safe housing is assumed and usually granted if available. I have personally experienced and heard of situations where volunteers live in the best house in their community or the best part of their host home. For example, while I have regular water and a shower with a water heater, my host family has chosen to live in the part of the house that has limited water and no shower (they use a temascal, a mayan sauna-like bathing room or the pila, a large sink contraption). 5. I can turn on the television, flip through magazines or look at most any popular product advertisements and see the developed world lifestyle widely represented and valued. And the more “developed” the lifestyle, the more European/white the persons tend to look. 6. Because of my appearance (whether it be the color of my skin, generally once-owned, higher quality clothing, or distinct behaviors) as a foreigner, I am often given better seats on buses or attended to earlier than other customers at stores. 7. People admire you and your way of being solely based on your being from the U.S. I am automatically the center of attention at social events I am treated as a special guest, often served and accommodated first and better than my native colleagues. 8. I am a highly sought-after potential girl/boyfriend/future wife/husband (especially if I am fairer skinned or more European looking) 9. You are assumed to have better or more valuable education and skills than the rest. 10. A nutritious, diverse diet is generally accessible to me in the U.S. 11. I and most of my peers are able to own and drive cars in the U.S., therefore increasing my capacity to access places and complete tasks more quickly. 12. In the U.S., we are accustomed to having access to a wide variety of recreation and entertainment, for example free public parks, sports fields, community centers, libraries, malls, movie theaters, restaurants, etc. 13. As a woman, I feel I have the right and ability to go out past dark without being scolded by our families/roommates. I generally feel safe when I go out at night and can return home safely at the hour I determine. 14. As a woman, I am generally respected in professional settings. My gender and appearance do not provoke or warrant sexual harassment from male colleagues (cat calls, nick names, flirting, greetings that linger on into unwanted physical contact) 15. I have the privilege of knowing the world is at our fingertips: I can and will most likely travel throughout my own country and to other countries. Most of our host families have never left their hometowns. 16. My U.S. passport allows me to travel to most countries with ease. It is also a significantly easier and quicker process for me to solicit and receive work/study/other visas to other countries. 17. I did not have to pay (other than minimally through taxes) for my primary and secondary education if I went to public schools. The only things I was expected to pay for were basic school supplies and extracurricular activities. Here in Guatemala, public schools are still primarily formed and funded by the local communities whose children attend the schools. The first few classrooms may be built by the local/national government, but any classrooms and materials (chalkboards, desks, supplies, etc.) needed thereafter are usually provided by the families of students. 18. There is sufficient space at public higher education institutions to accommodate those qualified and interested in attending. See: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/11/world/africa/stampede-highlights-crisis-at-south-african-universities.html?_r=2&hp 19. I am a part of the 6.7% of the world population that has had the opportunity to obtain a college degree, leading me and many of my peers to have a higher formal education level than approximately 93.3% of the world population. 20. Although unemployment in on the rise throughout the world, including the “first world”, I have so far been able to find work that I find both financially and personally satisfying. I have even been able to choose between jobs at times. Whether it is seeing a 7-year old child prepare and sell snacks to fellow children in school or a man pedaling hemorrhoid cream over a megaphone in the market on buses day in and out, I realize we choice is a privilege, especially when comes to the range and availability of work. 21. I can put toilet paper in the toilet without fear of the pipes clogging and exploding! 22. I value and have a high expectation of personal space and privacy, so much so that I consider it normal for an adult to live on their own, in their own apartment. Most Latin Americans live at home with their families until married, with their own children and enough means to purchase their own space. 23. I am accustomed to public trash services and an abundance of trash receptacles. I am not used to and dislike the sight of trash casually thrown on the ground. Most of the aldeas (villages) I work in do not have any trash collection services, and thus resort to burning trash or dumping it in more remote areas. 24. I have regular access to clean water, electricity and air conditioning. I can regulate the temperature of my house so that I wear (or not wear) whatever I want inside my home. 25. I have consistently had access to a variety of books and reading throughout my childhood and life. I don’t have to buy books in order to read them. Most of my students own a minimum number of books (usually a bible and dictionary). Increasingly, libraries are being built in urban areas (county seats and departmental capitals), but usually books are not arranged so that you can browse and you cannot take books out of the library. 26. As a customer at a store, I am generally trusted not to steal. This is evident by the open display of products available for me to pick up and handle. Because petty theft is common, most stores keep their merchandise behind the counter and the counter sometimes behind metal bars. When stores do openly display products, they usually require you to turn in bags and purses before entering and often have guards or employees closely watch/follow customers. 

Three days of mind-numbing meetings, two days of bus travel, and I'm happily back in site, back to my routine.  PC/Guate pulled out all the stops at this all-volunteer conference--catered food, high-ranking visitors from PC Washington, open counseling sessions--we were even handed an extra "personal day" this weekend (nice try, but all I wanted was to go home.)  Am I any less pissed about the

After putting it off as long as I could, I finally read Sheryl WuDunn and Nick Kristof’s book, Half the Sky. It had been on my list since it came out, and I’ve had my hands on it for more than a few months. This book chronicles the lives of women in developing nations, and explains how and why educating a woman can educate families, villages, and countries. The book helps one to understand the necessity of putting our resources into the development of women. While living in a developing country and working directly with the women they are referring to in the book, it was hard to swallow. There are so many times that, for my own selfish reasons, I have had to put myself in the cave that is my house and try to forget what the women down the street are living with on a daily basis. This blog is a result of the feelings I’ve been trying to push away for so long; but, as we know, with knowledge comes responsibility. I am trying my hardest to ‘help’ these people the few ways I know how, and after reading this blog I hope you understand a little more the life of a woman in Cajolá.

I firstly want to point out that these observations come from talking to people, from being in their houses, and from asking questions. These are not statistics I found on the internet, and I’m positive that not every person working with the development of Guatemala would agree with all of my opinions. Also, this is not the situation of every single woman in Cajolá. I kid you not, I’ve entered into an adobe hut that had a giant flat screen TV. Once a family has someone in the states, their life can change drastically, and I’ve seen that happen first hand. What I want to focus on is that for women here, life is completely different. Even being here for two years, I know that I’ll never be able to understand or portray completely the life of a woman in Cajolá, but for those who will never be in Cajolá or a place like it, I’d like to try.

I’ve met girls here who are 13 and pregnant, 14 and married, and 28 years old with ten kids. It’s not rare that a girl is married by the age of 15, and it’s very rare if she is not married with a child by the age of 20. When a girl is married, she is in charge of the cooking, cleaning, and children. She’ll wake up, wearing the traje (traditional Mayan outfit) that she most likely wore the previous day and slept in, around 5am and start with her daily chores: grinding the corn for the rest of the day, washing clothes by hand (in a pila if they have one, in the river if they don’t), cleaning the house – even if it is adobe with dirt floors, she’ll sweep and clean as much as she can. The rest of her day will consist of taking care of the kids, going to the market to buy food (if she has permission), cooking, and cleaning.

Every woman has to ask permission to leave the house, even if it is for things like buying food for the family or going to church. Many of my visitors met Juana, a 37 year old woman who helps me with my women’s groups. She keeps a clean house and is seemingly independent, but even she has to call and as her husband, Torivio, for permission to take the kids to school, to go to the market, or to help me go on house visits.

If a woman from Cajolá is lucky, her husband is not an alcoholic, and maybe even has a job (yup, the job market is bad here, too). If he has a job, he’ll bring home at most 100 Quetzales a day, around $12. If she has no husband or if he is not around, the work she can get is limited to collecting firewood. This job consists of heading into the mountains around 4am, picking up as many sticks as she can find, carrying them back in a bundle on her head, and selling them to people who can afford to buy firewood from her. She probably earns 30 Quetzales a day, around $4.

If a woman’s spouse goes to the United States, it does not mean immediate wealth. Firstly, he has to get there, which is extremely dangerous and usually costs the family all of the money and land they have to their name. Once he gets there, he needs to find a job that will hire illegally, as well as a place to live. I’ve heard horror stories of men getting to the states and then immediately latching on to the drug culture and the party scene. Romeo, my 28 year old ‘host dad,’ is open about how he went to the states and part of the time would work the morning shift at McDonalds, the afternoon shift at Burger King, and then do any type of drug under the sun on his 8 hours off. Luckily that phase didn’t last the whole nine years he was in the US, and he was able to send money back to his family. Not all men get over this; I have friends in Cajolá whose husbands left and never came back. They found another woman in the states and don’t have the desire to return to the Cajoleñan culture. These women, usually with children, are then left to find money to feed their kids, as I stated probably by collecting sticks.

If a woman’s husband doesn’t go to the states, it is not uncommon for him to still have other women. There are countless examples of this and I’ve even seen it with fellow Peace Corps volunteers. The man tells them he doesn’t have anyone else, no kids, no other family, and she starts seeing him, until she finds out otherwise and ends the realtionship. As for women from Cajolá, they don’t typically stop seeing him. There are so many people I know whose husbands have other women, and so many men I know who have children with multiple women. These men most likely will not make the money it takes to support all of his partners and children, and then women again are left to fend for themselves.

Domestic violence is an epidemic here. I see a woman with a black eye every few weeks, and I hear stories of women being raped by their husbands or other family members, stores of emotional abuse, and of murder. One of my health promoters, Angélica, was a 19 year old with an 8 month old baby. Her and I would go on house visits together in the village of Cajolá Chiquito, and on our last walk together I asked her about her son’s father. “We’re not together,” she said, “but I’m happy about it. I have my baby and I’m happy with him.” A month later, while Angélica was on a walk with her estranged boyfriend trying to get money to take care of their child, he strangled them both to deah in the cornfield next to my house.

I do no think men have an easy life here; compared to where I’m from, I could write the day in the life of a man and it would equally shock the reader. I do need to stress, however, that women defintiely live in a different world from even their brothers. From childhood on, one can see a difference. A girl from Cajolá is raised, from basically the time she can walk, to be working; whether it be cooking, cleaning, or taking care of younger siblings (I’ve see the 6 year old taking care of the newborn), she is always doing something.

The education of girls is definitely viewed as less important than that of boys. If a girl goes to school, she will most likely end it around the 6th grade. A boy probably won’t go much further, but if the question is that of money, the boy will be allowed to study and the girl will have to stop. This results in several things, but it affects the girl who wants to leave the community the most. The girl will stop her Spanish education whenever her formal eduaction is done. She will probably continue to only speak Mam, which will give her no access to outside resources since Spanish is spoken in all of the cities, and the kind of Mam spoken in Cajolá is different than Mam spoken in other parts of the country.

Any help that comes into Cajolá comes from a Spanish speaking person. The only voice these women seem to have is in the women’s community, which seems basically nonexistent. The men don’t take women seriously, and if they can’t communicate outside of their community, they have no one listening to their struggle. I call it a struggle, they call it life. I recently asked my groups what their goals were for their goals were for the rest of their lives; what did they see in the future for themselves? Out of 80 women, I didn’t have one answer. They don’t think like that. They also don’t want my pity. I tried to give examples (I want my kids to go to school, I want to learn to read, etc), but they really just kind of shrugged, seemingly knowing that it doesn’t reall matter what their goals are. I know help doesn’t come from outside, but from within, and I sometimes feel at a loss. How do I empower these women?

It’s also seemingly impossible to think they’re going to get something out of me being here, while simultaneously I am dealing with the patriarchical struggles of Guatemala. Because I’m white, I can usually get a shred more of respect than the average women (this being because a lot of people believe they need outside help to improve their lives). However, I’ve had many ridiculous things happen to me here. My experiences have pissed me off, humbled me, made me laugh, and made me want to immediately step on a plane out of here as soon as possible. One experience I can remember happened last year while I was translating for a Ugandan man, visiting to work on reforestation from the NGO CARE International. We had been visiting municipalities in the Western Highlands, using the CARE truck. At one point a woman from CARE was driving and accidently drove into a small ditch. The truck was teetering, and the Guatemalan men in the car, as well as the surrounding men who had seen the incident, came together and started talking about the trucks, chains, and ropes they were going to need to get it out. After listening and letting them talk it out for a few minutes, I suggested that there was a really simple way to get the truck out: pile up a few big rocks under the front tire and back out. They raised their eyebrows, looked at each other, then back at me. After a few moments of silence, one of them then said, “You go ahead and try that, little girl, we’ll watch and see how it goes.” They all them burst into laughter and then went ahead with the more difficult process of removing the truck with chains and a neighbors big truck. I, being the snot that I am, crossed my arms, and went and sat across the street with the Ugandan who was visiting. He then said to me “Why don’t they just put stones under the front tire and back out?” I started laughing, then explained what had just happened. He was surprised, to say the least, but just had to sit there and watch. I also knew in my head that if I had said that he, the man I was translating for, had suggested it before I said it, they would have done it.

I have also had issues at my health center. I have a male doctor ‘overseeing’ my work. I’m happy that he actually takes no interest in what I do, but when he does, he always seems to make me feel like a giant idiot; whether it’s how I should be taking Spanish classes instead of Mam (since my Spanish is SO horrible), or that I’m conducting my women’s groups all wrong, I take everything with a grain of salt and try to remind myself that I only have so many months left to deal with him. I’m not sure how to successfully relay the message of equality between men and women to my groups if I feel on a weekly basis that in this culture, it really doesn’t exist.

This all being said, I do see strong women in the culture. I illiterate women, such as Estela, my 26 year old ‘host mom,’ who know how important it is for both of her children to get an education and will do anything in her power to make it happen. I see Mikaela, one of my best friends here, whose husband left her with a 3 month old baby, went to the states, found another woman and therefore didn’t send money back. Mikaela collected wood and raised her son on her own. She helped me organize all the women in her village (Xetalbiljoj), so that they could receive projects and get a health education. I also see men who are not like the others; maybe it’s because I live with Romeo that I see it in him and not in others, but I know that he carries the baby on his back, loves his son and daughter equally, and helps to cook and clean. I have hope in Romeo and Estela, through their clout with the church, that they are helping others to live a more equal partnership.

Then come the questions that every Peace Corps volunteer asks themselves: what am I doing here? Did these last two years have any impact whatsoever? When I leave, will they stop washing their hands? Will they think I was just a Xnula (woman who wears pants) passing through and giving handouts? I’ve tried my best to be strict with the groups: if I don’t see changes in healthy habits, you don’t get a project. I believe that education is most important and I understand that a project doesn’t change a life; I’ve even had to cut a few women out of the project. But then part of me thinks “god I wouldn’t have time, either, to go to a meeting with some foreigner, if I had to make sure my kids were clean all the time, if I had ten of them, if I had to collect firewood for money, and if I spent 5 hours a day washing clothes.”

I tell myself that by being here, by being an idependent and educated woman, I am empowering them. Do I really believe that? I don’t know. But that’s what I tell myself on the low days, and I hope that with my presence they do realize that there is a different way, that they can empower themselves and change their situation. I obviously don’t expect them to get up, leave their culture, and try to head to America; what I do hope is that some little girl that has been to all my meetings with her mom might remember me. Maybe she’ll remember the charla I gave on family planning, or maybe she’ll remember that going to the bathroom in a cornfield can make her sick. I don’t know.

I had been thinking about writing this blog for a long time. Due to my lack of English skills, the break from school, and the many thoughts on the topic I have in my head, I know this blog probably doesn’t flow. It’s long, and there are a lot of things going on. I could elaborate on everything said much more, but it would have turned out to be way longer of a read than necessary (high five if you made it this far!). Something I want you to understand, though, is how great we have it. I want you to acknowledge how privileged we are simply to be born in the United States of America, and use that privilege to educate yourself and to help others. I don’t expect you to abandon your life and join the Peace Corps. I don’t know what I expect you to do. All I can think of is that I’m glad you now know a sliver of what life is for a woman here, and to do with this knowledge what you can.

Just saw this posted on the blog Central American Politics with a great comment "Even if Peace Corps is cutting back in Central America, that doesn't mean that it still isn't a great opportunity."

There are some big changes going on here in the Northern Triangle of Central America (Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras). I'm sure most have heard the volunteers (PCVs) in Honduras were pulled out for a reevaluation of the program (they say it's currently the country with the highest homicide rate in the world...) As for Guatemala and El Salvador the situation is not quite so drastic, however the number of volunteers is being significantly reduced (almost immediately), leaving many unlucky PCVs and communities in a lurch. Many volunteers cannot tolerate the idea of leaving early, even jus one to four months, and will be staying on their own dime to finish up projects and say goodbye. Others may end up leaving Peace Corps rather than face relocation to safer areas of the country.

While this has been quite a roller coaster ride for us, with varying opinions on those specific program changes, the one thing we can all agree on is that Peace Corps takes safety and security very seriously! I was super lucky to have been placed in such a wonderful community and have traveled all over the country with no major problems....though there was that one time my bus rolled down a ditch, throwing a my chile relleno (breakfast) and me around a bit...what's life without a little adventure? :)

I just got back from a wonderful 3-day visit to Chirrepec and Coban. I went up to help Evan with a project at the Chibulbut School. He is doing two, week-long activities about Reducing, Reusing, and Recycling. I helped build part of the playground out back from old roof materials and tires. The kids are loving the experience and the outcome. It was wonderful to be back in my old site and help out with this. A few pics are posted below and the link to Evan's blog with more pics is here--------------------->

Redundant disclaimer: The contents of this page, and all conjecture appearing on this page, do not represent the positions, views or intents of the U.S. Government, or the United States Peace Corps. Last week we had a three-day All Volunteer Conference (AVC). An AVC is generally where Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) are required to attend so [...]

Quick update to the "big changes" post: Last week we met at an All-Volunteer Conference, and if you'd like to know more, I would recommend a post from a fellow volunteer, EJR's "The most difficult decision". The summary is that post is reducing in size and scope to make security easier to handle. This is requiring some volunteers to make tough choices. Even so, post itself is not shutting down, despite the Guatemalan press's confusion on the matter.

I've made my choices (stay in community until late April regardless), and am moving on now to processing my own imminent departure from Peace Corps. Believe it or not I may be replaced at this point by a displaced volunteer, though, which has been a big relief.

It's still a scramble to finish up work, and I can't even believe how productive the days and weeks are now compared to a year ago. Life is filled with interpretive text, pulling strings and dropping names, annual operating plans, meetings, guide trainings ... And oh right, I have a Master's project to finish...!

I don’t know if you have heard the news or not, but my training group from Peace Corps has been forced into an early Close of Service (COS). We got notification last week via e-mail that we would now have to be finishing at the end of March instead of the middle of July. The news was bittersweet. Part of me is ready to head back home and be closer to my friends and family but the other part of me would really like to finish what I started here and complete the projects that I was going to give the women that have been working with me. This past week we had an All Volunteer Conference with Peace Corps to discuss changes being made within Peace Corps Guatemala. The Regional director, the man that oversees the PC countries in Central and South America, came to speak about the decision that was made for my training group to finish early. The decision for my group to end early was a means of reducing the total number of volunteers within the country of Guatemala. They want to reduce the number of volunteers because of the increase security risk Guatemala is to us. They want to better be able to control those that are in country and keep them as safe as possible. We heard the lead up to why these decisions have been made and were better able to understand why such drastic measures were being taken.The Regional Director stated that the Northern Triangle of Central America, which includes Guatemala, is the second most dangerous place in the world, second only to an active war zone. I must tell you though that violence in Guatemala is fairly concentrated within the capital city and a few other areas. The majority of the country, where a lot of the volunteers are located, is not dangerous. Some volunteers are being relocated that are in these less safe areas. We are fine if we stay in our sites, but that really isn’t feasible or desirable for us to stay in our sites. We need time away to go visit friends and just relax. That is where the problems come into play, how to keep us safe while traveling and out of our sites. For that reason the decision was made to decrease the number of volunteers in country.We asked the Director if there was any way that our COS date could be pushed back a month or two for us to have time to finish our projects but he informed us that if he was to make an exception for us that he would have to for others and that just wouldn’t work. My program, Healthy Homes, is designed to spend the last year of service working with community members to help them get projects, having an early COS date really puts a damper on this for us. The process for projects is pretty involved and involves the community at every step, teaching and training them the process of diagnosing and solving problems amongst themselves. The process can’t be rushed because then it loses its sustainable aspect.At first, I was really bummed that I couldn’t carry out my projects. Through the process I realized that maybe my communities aren’t really ready for projects. After some reflection, I can see that they were not taking as much ownership of the project as I would have hoped. The goal of the project is not to give stuff to the families but to teach them sustainable ways of living, to educate and empower them to help themselves. When our second year of service comes around, we are not required to do project but must evaluate our communities and see if it is a reasonable action to carry out with them. I think I jumped too soon into the idea of doing projects. I don’t think my community was really ready for the work that would have gone behind it. They were really just looking for the handout of a new project. I think this early COS was God’s way of telling me that it wasn’t time for projects here in my site. I really wanted to do projects because they would be a tangible culmination of my work here. I don’t know if any of you out there have worked in Development, but it can be a challenging because the results don’t always come right away. I have been educating women about how to better their health but the results of my work will take time to develop. I have planted seeds in these people’s lives and pray for them to grow. It’s hard to feel like I am really making the change when I don’t see much fruit for my labor. In Development work, you just have to know you are making a difference and that has to be what keeps you going. It’s a challenge to say the least but I think through this process, God is bringing me back to the basics of my work here. Development work is about investing in people and empowering them to better themselves. I think that I was able to accomplish that, maybe not to the extent that I was hoping for but if I was able to change one person’s life within my time here then I think that makes it all worth it.Please be in prayer for the women I have been working with as I haven’t notified them yet of the change in plans. I am really hoping that they can understand all that is going on and that they know me well enough to know this was never my intention. Please also pray for other volunteers that will be COSing early. Pray that we all may be able to finish well. Also for volunteers that will be relocated. This is the group of volunteers in my program that are a year behind me. Some of their sites were in unsafe areas and they have the choice to relocate or COS. Pray that they may continue on in their work here and they may be able to have smooth transitions. They will be relocated to volunteers sites that are in my group and will be COSing early. There is one that may be coming to my site. She is unsure yet if she wants to relocate or COS.Thank you all for your thoughts and prayersAnother note: If you were planning on sending money to my projects, I will no longer be in need of those funds, so please do not send them. For those of you that have already sent in money towards my projects, I plan on using them for a smaller alternative project in my community TBD.

Some of you may have seen something I wrote on Facebook the other day: “The Northern triangle of Central America [Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala] is the most dangerous place in the world outside of an active warzone.” While the Peace Corps kids may be alright, the rest of the country and region are pretty fucked, according to the UN Office on Drugs and Crime’s first Global Study on Homicide. The Obama administration has offered billions of dollars to help with the issue, and it seems that Capitol Hill has also taken a personal interest, as became clear to us PCVs when we were summoned to an all-volunteer conference last week. Apparently Congress has been asking for some time why Peace Corps is operating in such dangerous countries; according to the Inter-America and Pacific Regional Director Carlos Torres, the specific question was: “What are you doing to protect the angels of our country?” [Sidenote: why does Congress always get caught up in the details and never look at the big picture? And more importantly, what makes us angels?? It’s not like we enjoy living on less than $300/month…!]

Anyway, in light of the new information presented to us, I decided an update was due, especially since some people seemed confused by my last one. First of all, I am not going anywhere and neither is PC/Guatemala. We are instead being consolidated into the 6 “safest” departments (which are like states) in the Central Western Highlands – those with the lowest homicide rates. As El Quiché is one of them, I’m not affected by the decision at all. For everyone currently in sites outside of the 6 departments – including San Marcos and Huehuetenango, which are in the Highlands, but will most likely soon be put under states of siege/martial law to combat the drug problems there, like in Alta Verapaz last year – they can either get a site change or take early COS (close of service, your status after 2 years of service), which has been extended to everyone on top of Interrupted Service. Moreover, to bring numbers down as quickly as possible to better provide volunteer support, the volunteers who were slated to leave in March now have to leave in February, and the July group has to leave in March. Again, as my COS is October, I’m not going anywhere.

On a more personal level, many of my ag friends affected by the policies are opting to get a site change for their last 8 months or so; Whitney may even move to an aldea of Uspantan, which would put us at 6 hours apart rather than 12! Sadly, a whole lot of my muni friends have decided to take early COS and are leaving right away; I spent a nostalgic Thursday night with Noor before she disappears. Another muni friend, Rachel, however may get sent to Cunen for her site change, which would be awesome. Kate and Melissa, my present 2 sitemates, are part of the July group and are being forced out early, putting serious difficulties on their ability to finish planned projects (mainly building improved wood-burning stoves with USAID funds). The good news is that the two of them will be replaced by 2 girls from their program (who came to country the following year) being evacuated from San Marcos. So their hard work will not have been in vain and I will not be alone.

To be honest, I toyed with the idea of taking early COS…I wasn’t sure if Kate and Melissa would be replaced and if they left in March and Save the Children in May, what would really be keeping me here until October? However, I would’ve wanted to leave in May/June, but the early COS option expires on March 24th, which is just way too soon for me. I understand why many of my friends are taking the option – you get all the benefits of having been here for 2 years and it’s an opportunity to get out of a bad or stagnant work/living situation (though I’m totally judging anyone who’s been at site 6 months or less and isn’t even considering a site change). But with the (albeit minimal) work I have here and the Foreign Service off the table, I figure I might as well finish out my time, during which I can take the GREs and apply for grad school or jobs for 2013. All the uncertainty had totally freaked me out, but I’m back on my original track now.

Oh but what I’d wanted to stress was that it wasn’t the latest security incidents here that provoked all this change, though I’m sure they didn’t help. Carlos Torres explained to us how Peace Corps has been evaluating at its Central American posts for a while now. While Guatemala and El Salvador were deemed safe enough to keep us here while they make safety changes – including a transportation policy that involves a highly inconvenient PC shuttle on the Inter-American Highway – Honduras was not. With the highest homicide rate in the world, Honduras has super dangerous pockets all over the country and so even if a PCV was in a safe site, they'd still be traveling through dangerous places on bus routes. As I mentioned previously, all their volunteers were sent home temporarily while the security situation is being evaluated…though it seems that their chances of returning are quite slim.

At least one good thing about the conference was being able to see all my friends one last time before they leave; here's a photo of what remains of my training class (the serious faces are a play on how Guatemalans pose for photos lol). We’ll be about a third less by March 24th…qué será, será.

And on the bright side, this week is feria in Cunen, so the fun times live on :) We went to the cofradia’s (Catholic brotherhood) town lunch last Saturday with Jenny’s family…and ate at her family’s part of the cemetery…totally normal. Melissa and I spent that night in Nebaj at honestly one of the most fun parties I’ve ever been to. So actually between all the happy drinking and sad drinking (from everything going down), the conference was kind of a nice break haha. It also forced me to cancel several work meetings, just as things were getting productive again…oh well.

Ok that’s enough rambling for now. Since I’ll no longer be visiting home for the Foreign Service interview, come visit me hereeeeee!

So this post might be a little late at this point -- I was conceiving of it about a month ago as a response to a call for posts on a blog I'm mildly addicted to (That Wife). If you're not in a Christmas mood you can always bookmark it and come back in 11 months, though :-)

As background, I have a long-distance boyfriend/partner/marido/hombre/esposo/ch'mil whom I've not really mentioned on this blog. It's a confusing situation, but for the moment, it suffices to say that we spent Christmas Eve/Christmas Day with his family here in Guatemala and it was really great.

It was my first Christmas away from home, but it wasn't sad as I expected, just new. Here are some new traditions we got to try:

Christmas Eve Day, 9 am:

Woken up by the cat-scarf. This is a tradition we plan to replicate in the future.

10:30 am: We give the cat-scarf good-bye snuggles, and go off to begin the gluttony with a delicious brunch at a restaurant in a nearby city. Then we go in search of an elusive flower for boyfriend's mom's Christmas present. On the way, we walk through the market, which is an amazing and complete zoo.

1 pm: Lunch with boyfriend's family. Afterward we wash dishes, nap, and work on the computer, while I wrap a few presents.

4 pm: Family friends come to visit, and leave, and others come. The gluttony continues with tea, coffee, and rounds of spiced chocolate treats from Germany, plus US-style Christmas cookies we bought from a local bakery. At this point I've consumed in one day what in site I usually eat in three days.

7 pm: Mother-in-law and I go off to collect our Christmas tamales from her special supplier. It's freezing outside but I'm warmed by the boiling-hot tamales in my arms, and we admire the Christmas lights in the neighborhoods on our way home. Feels like Christmas.

The tamales come in two kinds: sweet with chocolate, and savory with raisins and red sweet pepper. Around 8 pm we eat dinner. Here are the tamales, or "paches" as they're called here:

11:00 pm: We light the Advent wreath and Christmas tree (German traditions), then sing some carols. Those Germans really know how to serenade their Christmas greenery. I mumble along and pretend to know the words. (I'm pro at this point with all that Mam practice.)

Safety first!:

After singing, we put all the presents on the table, one or two for each person. My boyfriend and I got basically two presents: a nice photo book of Guatemala from his family, and warm winter hats from my mom. (You know you're finally grown up when you get excited about...)

This was really different for me, but sort of liberating. At home everybody gets a LOT of presents, they go under the tree from Santa, and we open them on Christmas morning with stockings. At home we've "down-sized" since I was kid, but even last year seems quite extravagant comparatively.

I have a lot of dear childhood memories, but I admit I liked the one-present idea this year. It's fun to open something, but kind of seems totally besides the point. People in my site don't even really give Christmas presents, although kids might get some fruit or candy.

There is a bigger present coming, after all...

Waiting for baby Jesus to arrive (the fruit/moss/nativity under the tree is a Guate tradition).

Christmas morning, 12:00 am

The streets and skies erupt in pure pyrotechnic joy. For miles in every direction you can hear firework shells echoing in homage to baby Jesus, or perhaps simply in homage to the fact that Guatemalans just really love fireworks. After about five minutes the fireworks stop, and we give each other "the Christmas hug" (also a Guatemalan tradition). Then it's off to bed.

10 am

We roll out of bed, eat breakfast, and spend the morning relaxing. I'm content, but I do think of my mom's sticky buns!

12 pm:

Another round of fireworks. It's amazing how much Guatemalans love pyrotechnics.

1 pm:

We go out to eat for lunch, the big meal of the day. This was maybe the most different tradition for me-- I have never in my life gone out to eat on Christmas day, let alone for pizza! At home we usually eat a sandwich or cereal on our own for lunch on Christmas, then have appetizers and a big prepared dinner with the extended family in the evening.

3 pm:

Unlike at home in the US, Christmas is sort of winding down at this point, and we have another relaxed afternoon: we go for a walk, take a nap, and watch Andrea Bocelli's "My Christmas" video through dinner. (Not going to lie that I didn't love every second of it.)

7 pm:

Tamales, round two. We also eat a special German Christmas bread called stollen. (16% butter. yee-haw!)

My brother-in-law's baby Guatemalan fir made its debut this year. Public service announcement: The Guatemalan fir is an endangered species endemic to the Western Highlands, endangered precisely for its excellent Christmas-tree qualities, and its unfortunate propensity to drop seed only once every two years. (And in December, right around the time people would tend to cut them down - tough love, evolution, tough love.)

8 pm:

We watched an animated Christmas movie, then headed off to bed early.

I really enjoyed Christmas this year, and not to sound corny, but I experienced first hand that it really is being with family and being part of their traditions that makes Christmas great, whether they're your traditions or not ! Less is where you are, what you eat, or what you receive...

So many changes.

First off, I had a wonderful New Year´s on the beach with my sitemates and then a fabulous visit from my parents. Then my Peace Corps service came crashing down (a little over-dramatic but it stays).

Two of my closest friends left Peace Corps and Guatemala and last week we received the news that Peace Corps Guatemala needs to cut its number in order to stay open. The reason the volunteer numbers need to be lowered is that Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala (the northern triangle) is the most dangerous region in the world not currently at war. Apparently this doesn´t come off well to our Congress. Understandably so.

A couple weeks ago the volunteers in Honduras were all pulled out while Washington takes a month to assess the security situation and will decide whether or not the volunteers will be allowed to return. El Salvador and Guatemala will go under security reviews after. Instead of pulling out the volunteers, Washington has decided to lower numbers. The way they have decided to achieve this has been by implementing an early COS (close of service) for the groups of volunteers closest to their original COS date. The group that swore in before mine (March 2010) will have to leave a month early and my group (July 2010) will have to exit Guatemala 4 months early. Also, any other volunteer has been offered an early COS- meaning, even if the volunteer has been in this country for 3 months, he or she will have all the same standing as a volunteer who has completed the full 27 months. It has been a tempting offer for many.

In addition, volunteers are being pulled out of various departments and consolidated in the northern highlands. Luckily, my beautiful department of El Quiche will not be affected by this. Peace Corps will be providing a shuttle service for volunteers so that we don´t have to use the Inter-American highway and minimize time on the chicken buses, where the majority of crime against volunteers takes place.

Basically, I now have less than 8 weeks to wrap up everything I thought I would have 5 months to complete. I need to get the committee of the village receiving projects legalized, get my grant application in, graduate my health promoters, transfer my work to my replacements, say my goodbyes and return states-side. I am fortunate that I will have volunteers coming in to oversee the construccion on the latrines and stoves but also heartbroken that I cannot be here to see the final product of the hardwork that has gone into training the 25 families receiving the projects in health and healthy home infrastructure.

There are many critiques of the way that Peace Corps has approached this decision and the way that they are choosing to reduce our numbers but the decision is not negotiable so I, and the other volunteers affected by all this, will just have to keep moving ahead and try to get as much done as possible in the drastically less time than we had thought.

Already missing Uspantan.

Dear Readers, prepare yourselves for a novel of a post:

As I mentioned in my last post, I was told I would have to relocate out of my site in San Marcos. I spent a tense weekend spent with other San Marcos volunteers required to evacuate due to the battles over water in Ixchiguan and Tajumulco, listening to countless heartbreaking stories. I tried to empathize with my friends that were so integrated into their sites only 6 months in that they had made life-long friends. I nodded and felt the pangs of guilt for those volunteers being forced to leave four months early with projects left unfinished. I felt the frustration of the volunteers only three months in site, with no sites to replace and unclear futures.

Read more »

“1 in 10 Peace Corps Guatemala volunteers is involved in a serious crime incident.” The conference this week began with a “How We Got Here” presentation by the Inter-American-Pacific Regional PC Director. He talked about the security reviews and meetings … Continue reading →

So I know that this blog is suppose to be about Alaska and the amazing things I am getting to experience here but let's be honest I'm still trying to let go of what could have been for my service in the peace corps. It seems like shit has really hit the fan down there for my fellow peace corps volunteers and My reactions to each blog post I read, or Skype message I have are full of very mixed emotions. On one hand my heart goes out to all of them that are faced with the very same decision I was.... To leave and feel like a failure- have your dreams literally ripped away from you, or stay and continue living in "the most dangerous place on earth outside of a war zone" ( this is a direct quote from nytimes). My heart literally cries for then by I am still facing the feelings of failure and guilt everyday as I wake up. Why couldn't I have been stronger? Why didn't I fight harder to return? Or the most embarrassing question, why didn't I want to return? I know the months are passing and my feelings should be slowly leaving but the fact of the matter is that they are not. I feel deep shame in my decisions. I feel like I cannot even call myself an rpcv- I didn't even get to make it a year, how the hell can I claim that I served for the most prestigious organization in the united states? To myself I am not an rpcv, but this brings up the other side of my emotions....anger.

I as well as many other volunteers dedicated a year and a half to the application process in order to get to Guatemala. And when I say dedicated I mean, dropped everything I was doing to get a medical report in on time, turned down other promising job opportunities, and annoyed the shit out of my family and friends about whether this dream would ever come true, my chance to be a peace corps volunteer would ever become a reality. This literally took me a year and a half- shorter for some, longer for others but I was dedicated, it was my life goal. Life.goal.

Throughout my service I was never shocked by the "3rd world conitions" I had to live in. I rarely thought of leaving because of these, even after my 7th bacterial infection in 3 months durning training. The bucket baths, sickness, language barriers, unpredictable bus system none of these things bothered me- it was life and I was able to understand why so many people would leave their whole world (family, friends, customs, food- literally everything they have ever known) to travel dangerously and illegally to the united states to be then treated like the lowest of the low. Indentured servants. The thing that bothered me was the lack of support I felt from my pc staff. Being told after a month of being homeless (peace corps is required to find every volunteer a home with a family that they can spend their first 3 months in site with, thus building relationships and establishing a safety net) that I needed to be patient this was what being a volunteer meant by my apcd is not what I call support when I am living in a motel room without access to a kitchen or pila to wash my clothes. I understand that my experience in Guatemala was colored with the fact that I was never able to be settled, that the uncertainty of not knowing who I could go to for help, made my service harder. But the safety issues that volunteers have to face in the northern triangle is unacceptable. After hearing an incident from a female volunteer who was shot in the leg in Honduras during a bus robbery saying I did everything peace corps trained me to do during a bus shooting- the director of the region (Latin America and pacific) asked,"wait, we're training our volunteers how to avoid getting shot during bus shootings?" Clearly points to the uncertainty and unsafeness volunteers face daily in this part of the world. My question is not why can't peace corps do a better job to protexct us but why start our service in such a volatile area to begin with? Why put our safety into question when there are 70 other countries? I was one of the few that was given a choice between serving in Africa or central America. For the first week I was home after my med evac. I kicked myself over and over again for using selfish reasons (wanting to have people visit and being able to go home) for the basis of my choice- central America. The post in Africa would have me doing HIV/AIDS prevention work, something I am incredibly passionate about. I don't know what the fates were playing by pushing me towards Guatemala and I know the reason will come clear over time. But I am angry. I'm angry at the fact the odds were stacked so high against me, my pcmo even said to me I cannot believe that headquarters would send you back to Latin America after everything that happened to you in honduras( a previous volunteer trip, not associated with peace corps in anyway). I know this sounds like an angry rant from a volunteer that couldn't handle the violence and danger associated with pc guatemala, I know. There are over 200 volunteers who are in country handling the exact same conditions I did. And finishing their time. But I am angry that they are now being faced with the same decision I was. To leave or stay. To finish or be given an honorable discharge and have the coveted RPCV status, even if they feel it is fake. My question again is why? Why would Washington send a group of 60 trainees to Guatemala last year when they were already in the process of reviewing the safety issues occurring?

And what is even worst in my eyes are all the broken promises pcvs are making to Guatemalans because they believe it is in their power to make a change. My site mate has now had to tell two different locations that she will not be able to fulfill her time to her communities. Where is the fairness in that, for her or the guatemalans?

I would never suggest to anyone that they should not do the peace corps. It is an outstanding institution that accomplishes sooo much with so little funding. But can we not see changes made within the system that can insure successful completion of services? That the volunteers that do decide to early terminate do so because of the "3rd world conditions" not the question of how can I serve here effectively if it is too unsafe for me to travel to the places that need help the most? All of the volunteers in Guatemala are working their ass off to make the world a better place and doing so happily. They are some of the best people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. And I know they will continue to work and do the best they can, which is what makes them so outstanding. I wish I could be apart of their completion of service with everything I possess, but I do get to smile and say, you did it!

Over the past several days and weeks, I've been repeatedly asked the same question by friends and family: "How's it going in Guatemala?"

The truth is that I love Guatemala. Like the rest of Central America, it is a beautiful, diverse country, filled with amazing people, a vibrant culture, and well-preserved traditions. While at some point I see myself making my way back to the United States, the strip of land between Texas and Colombia has always treated me well.

If, however, you were to ask, "How's it going in the Peace Corps?", my response would be much different. Before I start my rant, I'll fill you in on the events of the last week.

On Thursday we were informed (via email) that the two next COS (Close-of-Service) groups were being forced to leave before anticipated, some as early as 4 months. A blanket early-COS offer was made to every Volunteer in-country, upping the ante from the Interrupted Service option we were already extended. We were also told that Guatemala was refocusing its efforts in a more specific region of the country, termed the "Central Western Highlands." My site has always been described as being located in the Western Highlands. Looking back, the addition of the word "central," was unnerving to me, but I figured there was no way that Peace Corps would attempt to move everyone in San Marcos. I was wrong. Peace Corps also announced an All-Volunteer Conference, to be held in Quetzaltenango (Xela) from the 24-26th, to further discuss our options.

On Friday I received a call from the PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader) that lives in my site. She wanted to make sure I understood that my site was not included in the Central Western Highlands, and that I would need to change sites if I wanted to stay in Guatemala. Minutes later, the PCVL from my program called to confirm what I had already heard. "Look at it this way," she said, "at least you only wasted three months." Half an hour later, I was "evacuated" from my site due to disputes over a water source in a nearby town. After various armed conflicts between Ixchiguán and Tajumulco, one man had been killed. In fear of being held hostage and used as collateral, the police ran away from 10 municipalities, including mine. Despite how terrible this all sounds, I put "evacuated" in quotes, because without the calls and texts from our Safety and Security Coordinator, I would have been oblivious to all this. My site continued to be tranquilo como siempre. I hopped on a bus and headed out, knowing full well that I might never be back.

After spending Friday night in my friend Matt's site, I arrived in Xela on Saturday to anxiously await the conference on Tuesday. Sitting cooped up in a hotel with other, very-stressed-out volunteers, I had all the time in the world to overanalyze and speculate on my future. Fast forward to Tuesday morning, 8:30am.

Carlos Torres, director of Peace Corps for the Americas and Pacific region, stood to explain "how we got here" to a room of 200+ less-than-pleased Volunteers. While not the most empathetic man I've ever met, Mr. Torres logically explained the process of the decision to cut Guatemala's Volunteer population in half over the next two months. He made it clear that this was not a knee-jerk reaction to the volunteer being shot in Honduras, and that changes in Central America had been a long time coming.

In 2006, Spain reported 336 murders. In the same year, with an equal population, Central America experienced a homicide rate 42 times higher, with a total of 14,257 murders. Most of these deaths occurred in the Northern Triangle (El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala), a region recently described as "the most dangerous area of the world outside of an active warzone." The Serious Crime Index for Guatemala in 2010 was double the world-wide average. In this country, 1 out of 10 Peace Corps Volunteers per year experience a crime incident more serious than being pick-pocketed. This means that over the course of 27 months, 22.5% of Volunteers here will be raped, assaulted, or held at gunpoint.

72% of volunteers feel safe where they live. 63% feel safe where they work. 15% feel safe travelling. As Mr. Torres said, at some point you have to start thinking, "What are we doing here? Are we OK with the fact that we train our Volunteers on what to do in case of a bus shooting?"

A frog in a cold pot of water, which is then placed on a stove, will stay in the pot until it cooks to death. A frog thrown into an already-boiling pot of water will instantly jump out, although a little scalded. Are we that first frog? Are we being de-sensitized to the violence, gradually adjusting to the sickening realities of this place, until finally it's too late? Would we come to to the Northern Triangle to visit? To vacation? Maybe, maybe not. But that's not really the situation, as Volunteers, that we find ourselves in.

We're already here. We're already working in the lukewarm pot of water, trying to cool it down. To some of us, it may feel hot enough already. Unlike the frog, we can jump out at any point. In fact, comparing us to amphibians was slightly insulting, and really alludes to how little say we have in the matter. We are volunteers working in a country that we knew was dangerous when we jumped in. Weeks before I arrived in Guatemala, my dad forwarded me a news article about the drug-related massacre of 40 farmers near the border of Mexico. Yet I'm still here. The giant hand of Washington, D.C. just reached in and scooped out 100 of its "frogs". It is now shaking the pot, making it increasingly difficult for the rest of us to swim. 50 of us have to make the decision to leave or to change sites, to start over again somewhere new. We have until February 10th to decide, by which point we may not even know where we're going.

Mr. Torres repeatedly emphasized how this was not a rushed decision. Then why in April 2011 did Peace Corps bring in the largest training group that Guatemala had ever seen? Why were the January 2012 trainees given only 2 weeks notice that they were no longer coming? Why the arbitrary March 24th date, by which the numbers must be reduced from 225 to 120? It certainly feels rushed to me. After this week, my confidence in the Peace Corps/Guatemala staff increased tremendously. I think they are a fantastic group of people who really care about what they do, and are committed to keeping us here. Also after this week, I've come to realize how bureaucratic Peace Corps really is, and how little say any of us have to change Peace Corps/Washington's decisions. Yes, difficult decisions have to be made. But why are they making it so much easier to leave than to stay? What's the likelihood that 3 months from now, they have to make the next logical decision to evacuate the post entirely? Am I willing to take that risk, or would it be better to cut my losses, with full Peace Corps benefits, and call it a day? Am I still committed enough to reenroll in another, safer country? Saber.

I've only been in Guatemala for 6 months. For some, this decision is much harder. They've already received money to start projects. They've made more friends, forged stronger relationships. Their departure will likely have a greater impact on many more lives. I've been told over and over, "at least you have so much time left." With time and youth, though, come more options. If it were a black-and-white choice between staying and leaving, I would stay. The more I think, however, the more I realize how complicated this decision is, how colored by shades of grey, red, blue, and purple the next few months will be.

The new president, Otto Perez Molina, is planning a state of siege in my department, San Marcos. At the moment, the only thing preventing him is the lack of soldiers and money. When he has both of these, we will be given 24 hours to leave our sites, and we will not be able to return until the state of siege is over. This could be tomorrow, or it could be two months from now. Realistically, we can expect at least two more weeks in site, but I have already started packing my things. There is no guarantee that I will ever be able to return to Comitancillo during my 27 months in Guatemala.

The director of my project was as blindsided by all this as we were. As a result, he does not have new sites prepared for the 15 of us who have the option to move. Because we have so little time to decide, it is possible that I will not have a new site by the time I need to make up my mind. Even worse, I may not have a new site by the time we get the boot from San Marcos. In this case, I'll be living indefinitely with a buddy of mine until I can be relocated, and Peace Corps will have to come and pick up my things.

The next few weeks and months will no doubt be incredibly stressful. At the moment, I've decided to proceed as if I were staying. If the state of siege turns this into an irreparable mess, maybe I'll go home. But I came to Guatemala with the intention of serving for 27 months. There still is a lot of time left, and I will adjust to a new site much faster after having already done it once. I'm trying to look at all this as an opportunity and a challenge, a possibility to grow stronger and learn. Packing up my things, sick, and with a stress headache, that's easier said than done. Who knows, my new site could be even cooler than my current one. I'll have the opportunity to learn a new Mayan language and intimately get to know another part of the country.

The biggest reason to stay? In a few weeks, I'll have a puppy dachshund to keep me company.

Clowns. Lion Tamers. Acrobatics. Tents. Cotton Candy. Elephants. The Wringling Brothers. These are the things you think of when you hear the word: CIRCUS. A mysterious, magical world where dreams come alive and children are amazed by the wonders performed underneath a giant stripped tent. At least that is what I hear. I have never actually been to the circus in the States (thanks Mom and Dad! Third child syndrome. I have also never been to Disney world but we aren’t here to talk about my deprived childhood). Lucky for me, the Guatemalan circus decided to stop by my little corner of the world here in Nebaj.

Now I use the word “circus” loosely. Don’t get me wrong, there was a large tent involved. Not to mention the crazy clowns. But elephants, lion tamers, cotton candy and the bearded lady were left out of the mix. After we paid the ten quetzals entrance fee, we began the adventure by spotting a raccoon tied up outside of the gate. I understand that raccoons aren’t very common here in Guatemala, but I wouldn’t consider them “exotic” or worthy of display. This was the first warning sign that this was going to be an interesting experience.

The evening started off with a performance by the clowns. Their outfits looked as if they were purchased at the thrift store. But in spite of their dirty costumes, they were quite hilarious. I wouldn’t consider the content child-friendly though. They joked about cheating on their women, alcoholism and one of the men even dressed up as a woman. Halfway through, I was looking around and wondering if the mothers were covering their children’s eyes. At one point, two girls (definitely underage) were wrestling on the ground in skimpy outfits. I didn’t know whether to laugh because it was quintessential Guatemala or to cry for the same reason.

Not only were there underage women wrestling and dancing, but the little girls were also the acrobatic entertainment. They wrapped themselves in sheets that were connected to the roof and flew through the air without any sort of protection. The only thing holding them in the air was some guy who was only using one arm. At one point I gasped because I imagined the child falling to her death. It was terrifying, yet extremely impressive. They had amazing skill…even if it did scare the bejesus out of me.

My favorite part of the circus was the three year old clown. Child labor laws don’t really exist in Guatemala, so this little guy was dressed up in crazy colors and put to work. He had some one-liners that really cracked the crowd up. I wanted to take him home with me by the end of the night. Another interesting performance was the juggler. She started off with the easier feat of plastic rings. Then she progressed to wooden bowling pins. She dropped them twice. She wasn’t exactly the best juggler ever. But then the real adventure began. They lit the pins on fire. Now you would think since she dropped the non-flammable objects, that they wouldn’t give her something that would set the whole place up in flames. But she did it anyway. And then she dropped one of them. At this point, I was scared for my life. Luckily, she didn’t catch anything on fire. She just nonchalantly picked up the flaming pin and continued her performance. I am lucky I escaped that circus without third degree burns.

At the end of the performance, I had mixed emotions about the whole experience. It was entertaining and a little disturbing at the same time. It was so perfectly Guatemalan. You take what you have and you run with it. Instead of having a lion tamer, they taught a goat to walk across a plank of wood. Instead of having a cotton candy, they served fruit. Instead of a tight rope, they tied a blanket to the ceiling. You can never say that Guatemalans aren’t resourceful. Don’t have enough money to pay for employees? That’s ok. Little Jose is almost two…it is time for him to try on the clown suit! Looking back on the evening, I am glad I went. I got some good laughs and a new experience to write about. Now, I can’t say that I will ever go to another Guatemalan circus…but you know what they say…all things are possible if you just believe.

In the last post I talked about how I had less than six months until returning home. I will be home in June, but my new close of service date is March 24th. I spent several days in this past week at an all-volunteer conferece in the Xela-area to hear about the restructuring of Peace Corps Guatemala. Currently, there are over two hundred Peace Corps volunteers serving in Guatemala. By March 24th, PC would like to have less than 120 volunteers. This is to have a better staff to volunteer ratio, and a more manageable number of volunteers. Although it is sad to see many sites losing volunteers, perhaps forever, it is an understandable decision given the security situation in Guatemala. Guatemala, as part of the "Northern Triangle" of Central America, was called the deadliest non-war zone in the world by the Pentagon.

What does this mean for Cunen? Not too much, beside the national budget going more towards militarization instead of infrastructure or health initiatives in Guatemala. This area of the country, like most rural areas (except near borders), is very safe and far removed from the gang and drug violence that plagues the capital and drug corridors. The problems found here are poverty related, one of the worst being chronic malnutrition (in some areas of the western highlands the numbers are as high as 7 in 10 children are malnourished). In our most recent health center meeting we were talking about malnutrition and heard that there are 1,200 malnourished children under five in our Municipality of 60,000 people. A pretty scary number, considering that, especially before the age of two, children's nutritional status dictates growth in adolescence and adult health. Children who are malnourished before the age of two are more prone to stunting, decreased mental capacity and chronic illness.

I joined Peace Corps with the hope of creating big changes, working hard and feeling like I had "made a difference." Once I actually came down from the high of training and had my feet on the ground, I saw how difficult that actually is. Language barriers (my K'iche' is still barely functional, unless talking about food, likes and dislikes, the weather or similar topics I am pretty hopeless), an overworked and underfunded national health system and community groups with a barely lukewarm interest in hearing an overeager gringa talk about preventative health, all made this task daunting. My actual successes have been on a smaller scale than I envisioned. I used cooking classes to lure the women's groups to my health talks and concrete skills like first aid to keep health promoter groups intact. I still lost some people, but there are the regulars that come back every month for information on nutrition and a new recipe. I will be finishing up service with about twenty graduated health promoters, instead of the forty or fifty that initially signed up.

When we were told that our close of service date was changed, it seemed as though our project would be postponed and left in the hands of our replacements. I was upset and wanted to figure out a way to still build the stoves in the time that I had promised the community. Yesterday morning I went to the mayor's office and begged and flattered to try to convince him to cover the rest of the funds needed for construction. I was told to wait and come back after the town fair, and that the previous mayor had left them with considerable debts. In the afternoon I got a phone call about the SPA funds. The committee will be meeting next Friday, and if they think it's a good project and that I can finish before close of service, they will approve it!

It's been a time of outrageous ups and downs, and I am going to be very busy for the next two months, but for the next couple days I am going to relax and enjoy the town fair with Melissa, Nicole and our Cunen friends.

The one picture is of my house, which I will be sad to leave because goodness knows when I'll be able to afford to rent a whole house again! The other is of Melissa getting a shoe shine because it amused me and the shoe-shine boys have been hassling us to get a shine since we got here.

My acceptance letter arrived in the mail today. I have looked forward to graduate education long before I received my first admissions package at the age of eighteen.

Ten years have gone by and though I have changed in many ways, the nervous feeling that runs through one’s body as you tear open the envelope remains the same.

Your heart races as your eyes search for those ever-important words…

“Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you have been approved for enrollment in 2012 as an advance standing Master of Social Work student”

You want to scream so loud. Only 63 students are admitted into the Advance Standing Program every year and with the recession…you knew there would be competition. As you continue to read the letter you also notice in dark bold letters.

“You have been awarded a Dean’s Scholarship for $20,000.00."

Needless to say, I am ecstatic. I have wanted this more than anything I could think of, besides joining the Peace Corps of course. One small problem, tuition costs $50,000!

This blog chronicles the story of a passionate girl who will do everything in her power (legally of course) to get through grad school with little or no debt.

There will be Hustle.

Detailed in my last blog, there are numerous changes affecting Guatemala right now. Within PC Guatemala, the Regional Director Carlos Torres has advised that the administration take the following steps:

1.)Relocate volunteers that are deemed to be living in ‘Unsafe areas.’ These unsafe areas are the departments of Huehuetenango (where my site is), San Marcos, Alta and Baja Verapaz, the Oriente (everything east of Guatemala City) and the coast. Basically half of all volunteers are being evacuated from their sites and have the choice to relocate within Guatemala or go back to the states.

2.) Offer early COS to any and all volunteers regardless of time spent in country. This measure is to decrease numbers of overall volunteer size.

3.) Have a transportation system to help with security and volunteer well being. This means no more camionetas or renovated old discarded school busses. Now PC Guatemala will have to provide us with private transportation to and from our destination on major highways and roads.

So where does this leave me? I have until February 10th to let PC know if I decide to come home or try to move sites and start again. Going home is a very easy option. I can return to the states, start the application to graduate schools and begin to plan what the next move career wise will be and how best I can give myself the opportunity to do so. Or, I can stay here and explore the unexpected all over again. The benefit of this unexpected is knowing what I know now. With my Spanish being understandable, I will avoid most of the normal growing/learning pains of the new language. I know where most things are, how the culture operates and have a little more confidence in what I am doing. The downsides will be moving, doing the whole readjustment thing all over again, and meeting new people. Do not get me wrong on the meeting new people. I thoroughly enjoy meeting new people. The fact is, meeting someone versus getting to know someone in a professional development aspect takes time, patience and certain situations to give you that crucial insight on how people react and what their tendencies are. I have all these comforts here currently in Malacatancito. I know who to go to for certain things and who to talk to about certain subjects or help. I will have to take about 2-3 months in a new site before bearings are really set and the ability to working comfortable and confidently will set in. This is the dilemma. Thomas, Nic, Justin and myself on top of Volcano Santa Maria.

This photo was taken just before a 6.1 earthquake hit!

On going home, it seems daunting right now because I do not have anything planned. I still have goals for myself here within Guatemala. One of those priorities is becoming fluent in Spanish, and accomplishing a few projects, something that is tangible and visible. With more time being here in Guatemala can only help build on these experiences. Either way, be it staying here in Guatemala or coming back home to the states both represent the unknown and both represent endless possibilities to whatever can happen.

I am just distraught over the simple fact that I have made these connections here in my current town of Malacatancito. I am just getting everything set to finish up my time in site with the culmination of projects that will show for all the hard work we have done. What scares me is knowing the first 6 months in site here were tough, the toughest time in site as everything was new and the foundation was being set. Back then, I knew I had time on my side and knew everything would pan out because I had two years ahead of me. Now, in a new site, with new people, starting all over, what will I be able to do, telling people I only have 6 months to work with them? This is where my conscience and thought process are analyzing and challenging my continuing. The simple question is - in the 6 or so months I have remaining here in Guatemala, will I be able to accomplish substantial things such as projects that are designed and managed by the Guatemalans in such a short time period? Or in those six months, can I find a job in the states or wherever and get more accomplished in that time period as I still set my sights on the future? Timing is everything right? Argggg…..

Visiting with Peace Corps Director Aaron Williams

I hope to be able to visit potential sites in the upcoming days that will grant me a little view into the workings of new sites and the people in them. With that information I can only hope to make a decision and the go into it with all my heart, 110%.

A recent moon rise in my town of Malacatancito

Several times a day, I walk along my cobbled street, past houses with tin roofs, ‘yards’ with burning toilet paper and loose chickens, and up the hill to the center of town. All along the way, children crawl out of the woodwork and start yelling my name. Sometimes they ask me where I’m going, or where I came from, but most of the time they just keep screaming “Eric!” until I turn around and wave. Sometimes I stop and say hi, ask them what they’re doing, and try to learn their names. Flashing their rotting teeth, they inform me that I’m a gringo. “I know”, I say, “and you’re a chapín.” We fist bump, and I’m on my way.

After three months, I still enjoy semi-celebrity status among these children. To them, I might as well be from another planet – I’m tall, white, and speak in tongues. When I walk by talking on the phone in English, they love to mimic what I sound like: “sha sha sha sha…” Even my host siblings haven’t tired of me. They will do anything in their power to come hang, even returning a lent soccer ball just to ask for it back. If they know I’m home, they will knock on the door and scream until I answer. I counted once; Saulo yelled my name 18 times before I couldn’t take it anymore and came to the door. “How’s your mom?” he asks, “Can I see if you made your bed?”

I can do no wrong by these children. Playing monkey in the middle, I lifted Saulo in the air so he could try and catch the ball. After succeeding in catching the ball (with his face), I put him down and bent over to see if he was okay. With blood streaming out of his nose, he laughed hysterically, “Do it again!” For a kid who cries at least half of his life, it says a lot that he was not bawling his eyes out.

Being such a spectacle means that I live in a fishbowl; it’s impossible to walk down the street without being noticed. At the same time, it provides me the opportunity to represent my country in the best way possible. In order to teach composting this week, I walked around the Sunday market with a garbage bag, picking up fruit and vegetable scraps. Most of the people I passed stood stared as I collected banana peels, surely thinking ‘this gringo is out of his mind’. But some people stopped to ask what I was doing, and maybe, as a result, might think twice about what they do with their apple cores in the future.

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I am finally starting to work on a regular basis. I’ve now met all of my schools and most of my women’s groups. After my initial frustrations with my counterpart, he returned in January ready to work, and has been very supportive and helpful. Within the next few weeks I would have had a pretty consistent schedule. Would have, being the key phrase.

I had started this entry a few weeks ago, but a lot has changed. Forgive me, this hasn't been my best post, as it was a little rushed. I want to write something new within the next couple days to explain the giant shit storm that has become Peace Corps Guatemala, but didn’t want to let my most recent experiences go undocumented. Erego, I'm going to end this entry with something a little different, for the sake of time. I call this section, “You know you’re in Guatemala when…”

You hop into the back of a pickup truck and almost crush a pig in a bag.

Upon first meeting your women’s groups, they are already offering you their daughters in marriage.

You can’t make it more than a month without getting sick (so close this time!)

You are offered to go to a whorehouse by a married man.

Coworkers play Mario Kart on their computers to kill time in the office.

You hear your host siblings get the belt on a daily basis.

You direct indigenous Mayan women on how to make a compost pile, at the same time thinking to yourself, “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

I’ll post a new entry soon, hopefully later today. In the meantime, enjoy these pictures of my future dog, born on January 12th!

I have seen the extent to which the world has moved ahead without me. A colleague leads me, bewildered behind her, down endless streets of enormous, stately buildings and down the direction-defying lefts, rights, ups, downs of the city metro system – just deciding which way to walk is a challenge. I learned, at least well enough to do it all by myself later, but of course feigning to everyone around me that I knew exactly what I was doing.

All the cell phones, all the apps, the ability to look at a map, check an email, find a restaurant’s address and ratings, look up a book to find it in the bookstore you’re in, even use your phone in place of a boarding pass for a flight… it’s all so convenient but makes me feel so uneasy! It feels as though the world has moved on and left me behind it, lost in the bustle and buzz of a city at work.

I see store window after store window of sleek, well-crafted clothes the likes of which I haven’t seen in a few years, sturdy-looking and chic shoes that probably wouldn’t fall apart on me in a few months, oodles of “Food Court” setups (with not a single restaurant chain name I recognize) in what seems like every office or state building complex I pass, and I wonder if I will ever be the kind of city person who patronizes those kinds of places, is that kind of consumer… do I want to be?

And everything can painlessly be paid for with a quick swipe of a credit card, and nothing more, no need to bother tallying up your totals if you don’t wish to – that’s what the bank statements are for. And this is only if one bothers with a card; many use their phones for that too. As for me, I haven’t used my credit card for anything but buying plane tickets online in the last three years; the ease with which people at the cash register swipe, hand it back, and smile at the next person with a “Can I help you?” makes me uneasy, like Aren’t we missing something still? Aren’t transactions usually more than that? Perhaps I’m too accustomed to barter systems.

I am left feeling like a child, naïve to these sophisticated, “first-world” city ways. I am awkward, get easily confused, concentrate hard on learning, and make mistakes often.

But I would like to see one of those who would scoff at my ignorance, in an attempt to navigate the Guatemala bus system. In that arena, I am expertly aware of where I must go to get on and what I must do when, to get off; the kind of transaction I can anticipate; strategies to employ to ensure paying a fair price; and especially on the alert for anomalies that could lead to unforeseen situations to handle. Your iPhone and credit card can make purchases black-and-white for you, but I’ve seen the amazement in other people’s faces as I employ all the tactics to negotiate shades of gray, to for example talk down a market vender to a price we can both agree on, which would have seemed impossible given her original price quote. Your earbuds plugging your auditory canals have precluded any need to socialize more than necessary with anyone you’d rather not talk to, but you wouldn’t know the first thing to say to get your neighbors (or potential renters) to trust you, like you, welcome you, and have reason to always treat you fairly. I’m always itching to show people my world. I’m sort of proud of how skillfully I navigate it, no matter how stone-age it may seem.

Are these skills useful? Arguably, outside of this developing-world, informal rural economy, no. But neither do the skills employed by every technobot (oops, I mean person…) walking down a D.C. street, seem difficult to acquire. That kind of complexity is accessible – if you wanted, you could read or download a manual for most of that, or buy a “(Fill in the blank) for Dummies” book on it. The rural kind of complexity is more about layers of understanding, hierarchy, and trust gained through experience and a keen memory, or good mental note-taking. May not be terribly useful beyond this context, surely this learning curve adaptability could be applicable to other contexts.

So it is that I come to realize, we all live in our own jungles – seemingly inexplicable messes that, upon examination, have an order and a rhythm. There are always, always layers of nuance and complexity that outsiders aren’t going to understand at first; we humans create that complexity through varying degrees of hierarchy and social mobility, I suppose whether it be Wall Street or a prison or an aboriginal tribe. I think this is what we call culture, never easy to adapt from one to another.

Today my taxi-driver caused me to reflect on this fact. His English was an African English, not an African-American English, and I so wanted to ask him where he was from (like, what country). But, thinking back to how much that question bothers me as a non-native to Guatemala (and how, yes, it’s probably a little accent that provokes the question), and not wishing to sound like a xenophobic upper-class yuppy by asking him and implying that he must not belong here, I held my tongue. I couldn’t think then of a decent way of asking, but now I wish I had said something like, Your accent is that of an educated African… Where are you from, what compelled you to leave, and why in the world are you just driving a taxi?? It seems he must have left his culture, his social landscape where he knew all the ins and outs, and came here and had to learn a whole new set – worse, with the odds stacked against him as a black man and as an immigrant. I reflect on all the things he could probably show someone about both of those worlds in which he’s learned to operate.

With time and the right proactive attitude, we can probably all learn to deal with and to function in any unfamiliar environment. But I’m beginning to reflect on whether or not it’s really beneficial to keep requiring that of ourselves. How many adjustments to new “jungles” will the average human being make in a lifetime in today’s world? And to what degree? Surely the adaptation from a high school experience to moving to college, is not the same magnitude of change as a move from an African village to Washington D.C.

But what concerns me most is the feeling that this requirement to adapt to “culture shock” if we can call it that, is no longer implied only by a geographic move; I get the sense that the modernized world is moving toward a constant state of adaptation to our own constantly-changing culture. There is always far too much for me to catch up on every time I visit the U.S., that at this point it’s simply overwhelming, and I no longer even really try. Will I always feel like a Neanderthal, even in my own country, even with the latest gizmos, even with the latest apps, even with the most recent 9.0 version of street-smarts? This is why I come away from a lovely little visit to the big city… feeling a little intimidated already about the next time I’ll have to go back! :)