Midservice Conference

One year as an official Peace Corps volunteer down and one to go…or as the medical staff here informed us, 10 months until we come back for our end of service medical check ups and then we can go home. It is a strange thought to think that we now have less left to our service than we have already served. We are over the hump. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, especially when the bands are practicing outside our windows and the sound is nearly unbearable and I think “I won’t be here for this next year.”, or when I am walking home from school in the rain cursing the fact that “the rainy season” is in no way a misnomer of any kind and that from April until October there is a very good chance of rain everyday.

            To make this one year mark official we of course had a meeting at the PC office known here as our Midservice Conference. Since we would be there for a few days, we took the opportunity to visit Lizzy’s host family. It was amazing to us just how much the town of San Bartolo had changed in the course of one year. Unfortunately the bakery that we frequented when Liz was living there had closed down and moved and in its place was yet another fried chicken place. Fortunately however, Don Caesar had not changed at all and was every bit as hospitable and warm as he had been when Liz was living at his home.

Don Caesar with Lizzy in the garden

            In addition to the meetings we also had our medical appointments to make sure we could remain here working. This left us a lot of down time in between appointments and we finally hiked up to the cross on the hill above Antigua. It was short and very beautiful. We treated ourselves to lunch at Sabe Rico, one of the few organic café style eating establishments we have found that we actually like. In addition, we got to hang out with friends from our training group and catch up on what had been going on in the last few months since our last meeting. It was a nice couple of days. Here’s to one more year!!

At the Cross above Antigua

The view from our table at Sabe Rico

My awesome pasta dish complete with a green salad and whole wheat bread...where am I?

Pizza with friends

Hanging out by the Merced

Birthday Celebrations

Brian and Melissa, the children of the host family that we live with and our adopted niece and nephew, recently celebrated their birthdays. Brian is now 3 and has a bigger Spanish vocabulary than I do and Melissa just turned 8. Their birthdays fall just a few days apart so the family celebrates them both on the same day. For the festivities this year both kids got their own piñatas and we all went over to the family’s farm house just up the road.

The kids with Melissa's Strawberry Shortcake Pinata

The neighbor kids

Brian staring as others take a swing at his pinata

Little Cata going to town

            The neighborhood kids all gathered around hoping for a turn to swing at the piñata, and since Brian almost immediately developed a healthy fear of his piñata, the other kids had the opportunity to jump in and give it a whack. All of the family was there including cousins, uncles and aunts and grandparents. Watching the kids take turns I couldn’t help but feel a little sad for some of the cousins who have grown up almost entirely without their parents who have been in the states since they were small children.

After the piñatas had been broken open and all the candy removed, we returned to the house to start making dinner.

The Tortilla Crew

            This year the family wanted to do something different so they asked Liz and I if we could help them make some of the food that we like to make. They had especially liked when my sister Stacia had come out and made them Bangalore Curry. We agreed and spent the next few hours working with the women of the family to cook and get everything ready while most of the men sat upstairs watching t.v. and taking photos of themselves with my camera that they borrowed (to be fair, they did move the table upstairs).

The Birthday Clowns

            When the food was finally ready we all sat down and had a very long prayer followed by a speech by Tilo, the father, thanking everyone for coming and being a part of his children’s lives. After that there was silence as everyone dug into their food and then went back for more. The table was cleared and then the cakes appeared accompanied by their two liter counterparts; Big Cola, Lemon Lime and Piña. I don’t know what it is but here you can’t have cake without soda…as if it was sweet enough on its own. When the kids blew out their candles it is tradition of course to push their faces into their cake. After eating face cake everyone line up and gave the children presents and the kiddos then hugged and thanked each person for their gift.

            The night was very special and we felt very privileged to have been a part of it. We were the only non-family present with the exception of Melissa’s two invitees and we had a great time working with the family to prepare the food and decorations. Happy Birthday Brian and Melissa, here’s to many more birthdays to come.

Three of the cousins whose parents are in the states 

The whole family

Melissa and her friends

Celebrating one year in Chivarreto

The last month has been full of milestones. Milestone 1: Lizzy and I celebrated one year of living in Chivarreto and went on an excursion with our host family to San Bartolo, a town famous for their hot springs. The whole family loaded into the truck, which had been outfitted for the occasion with wood crates to serve as suspension and blankets to pad the crates and allow for the kids to sleep for the duration of the trip. The town is only 10 miles away, but with dirt roads badly in need of repair, the drive took an hour and a half. We were excited to be in a new place seeing different sights and were also excited to swim and soak.

Brian and Melissa in the Truck

            I’m not sure what it is about my imagination and why it still hasn’t quite grasped the realities of life in Guatemala because when I imagined hot springs and a heated pool, images of relaxing (clean) pools of blue and green came to mind. I imagined lazily swimming in the warmth of a heated pool, protected from the normally brisk night air that is a constant when you live at 9,000 feet. The hot springs were quite the departure from my imagined world. First of all, we barely were able to make the entrance of the springs due to a recent washout of the road where we had to wait 20 minutes for a truck to be removed from its mired state. Of course we soldiered on, because if there is any attitude to be learned from living here, it is that “it will never happen to me.” We bounced through the rocks and mud and were soon in the parking lot.

The river, the bridge and if you enlarge the photo you can see the pool in background and possibly the diving board

            The lot was and today most likely still is a muddy, shack filled area without the painted lines that normally limit ones ability to park creatively, leading to all sorts of potential departure problems. We got out and the family unpacked all of their belongings; towels, inflatable toys, shampoo and soap, changes of clothing, etc. (wait…I thought we were just going to some hot springs to swim…why the shampoo and soap?). I was looking forward to swimming with the host family kids in the pool and hanging out with the family, but as we came to the ticket window and Tilo asked if we wanted a private cabin or if we wanted to use the public pools, imagined experiences once again changed. The family opted for a private cabin and Liz and I went for the public option (Private cabin 25 quetzales…about 3 bucks, public pools 2 quetzales…about 25 cents), we went through the entrance gates, crossed the bridge above the raging muddy river and then separated for the evening as they went to their private bath/cabin and we walked around and looked for a place to set down our things. We wouldn’t see the family again until it was time to leave.

Parting shot before they went off to their private bath.

            Almost immediately upon entering it began to rain and we were unable to find a suitable place for our bag of supplies; towels, camera, water bottle and hand sanitizer. We soon realized that the only safe place to leave our things would be with the family in their cabin. I braved entering the building with the private baths (all had doors with slats that should have slanted properly to maintain privacy but were apparently installed improperly and instead gave all passersby a clear view into your private bath.) and walked to their numbered compartment. I did my best to avert mine eyes since we had just learned upon entering the hot springs that we had actually stumbled into the new and exciting world of group bathing (this long explanation is here to explain why I don’t have any really good pictures of the area, sorry, the camera was in the bag in the private bath of our host family.).

The private bath where the family went, 4 adults and 2 kids + Pool toys

            I returned to the pool we had just jumped into to realize that the water was just a little bit warmer than the outside air and had a lovely gray color to it, much like gray water of plumbing fame. We realized that we were the only people in official swimsuits and the preferred attire was anything you happened to be wearing under your pants, be that boxers, boxer briefs or briefs…the whiter the better apparently. Soon we were surrounded by teenaged boys who hadn’t yet heard my very important lesson on personal space or about how much North Americans don’t actually appreciate being splashed by you and your friends as you grapple with each other for pool dominance.

            Liz and I inched our way along the pool walls away from the rambunctious youth until we were to a place where we could still touch but the locals struggled (cause they’re short). On this end of the pool we were dazzled by the impressive display of belly flops and what appeared to be flying frog dives coming off of the cement diving board. When the crowd of divers cleared I went to check the depth beneath the diving board (which itself was suspended some 5 feet above the water) and was worried that the water was just a few inches deeper than I am tall with my arms extended above my head (some 7 feet). This may have explained the lack of perfected pike dives.

            After enduring the pool for a good half hour, we braved the hot springs. These were basically a series of four cemented pools, each set up as a 10x10 foot hot tub. We again quickly learned not to look around too much, as the appearance of flesh was overly abundant. The pool we jumped into was practically empty, although there were almost 30 people around the sides of the pool. The water again was a lovely, murky gray color, but fainter than the swimming pool. Those on the sides of the pools had plastic bowls with them and poured water over their bodies, lathered up, rinsed and repeated. For many this would be the only bath of the week/month/season/hopefully not year. We now understood the grayness of the water, although there were signs posted all along the pools that prohibited bathers from entering the springs themselves completely lathered up, thus the lathering on the edge of the pool and the pouring of water with small plastic bowls. The signs made sense, especially since the majority of rural Mayans cannot in fact read.

            We eventually gave up trying to avoid staring at all of our near naked neighbors and observed the technique with which everyone was bathing. It was fascinating how often the buddy system was employed to really scrub those hard to reach places on the back and how many times this would have to be repeated until one was finally satisfied with their level of cleanliness. We met a young man by the name of Russell (good Spanish name) who wanted to practice his English while he bathed (multitasking!) and even kindly offered us his soap and shampoo to clean ourselves with. We watched as his mother scrubbed his back and then the backs of his three sisters before she went on to wash her hair and I wondered if I had somehow been shortchanged by my childhood Saturday night bathing rituals.

Pupusa Dinner

            After soaking for over 2 hours our host family emerged from their cabin and told us they were ready for dinner and to go home. We jumped out of hot springs as quickly as our very relaxed bodies could manage and changed in their cabin. We crossed the bridge again on our way out and went to one of the many fine dining shacks. We settled on Pupusas, a type of cheese filled fried tortilla covered in guacamole, cabbage and hot sauce. After engorging ourselves we were ready for the drive home. Lucky for us it had rained and the muddy roads were now nicely lubed. It was an enjoyable way to celebrate our first anniversary with our host family.         

Me and Grandma Carmen at the smoothie stand.

The family was tuckered out when we finally got home.