Two Months of Moments
To start off in describing my two month experience in Guatemala, I
must relate my latest “Guatemalan moment” that occurred about a week
ago. Mateo and I were working on the chicken coop when three
indigenous women came by to our tree nursery to look at trees to buy.
Mateo left the chicken coop to tell the women the types of trees and
negotiate prices and, seeing a wonderful opportunity for a break, I
followed along. The women were all snacking on corn and one woman
reached into her apron pocket and produced half a cob, offering it to
Mateo. He graciously accepted the corn and started eating it and the
woman took a look at me, realizing that I don't have anything to snack
on. Seconds later, I received my own handful of corn bits, and, not
stopping to think about their origin, I begin chewing the corn kernel
by kernel. Almost finished with my snack, the situation became clear
to me: I realized that that big bite the woman took out of her cob
only moments before went direc
tly from her mouth and into her hand, at which point she had turned to
me and, with a smile, had offered me some of her corn. Upon realizing
what had happened, I could only laugh and relate the story to Mateo.
No doubt many reading this would be revolted at the thought of having
a similar experience, but for me it was almost nostalgic in a way
because I was taken back over 10 years ago to my only memory of the
Guatemala City public transport. I was with my mom and I had recently
lost a couple of teeth, so, sitting in the back of the bus, my mom bit
big chunks out of an apple so I could tackle the smaller pieces. As
Mateo put it, "something only a mother could do....or a random
Guatemalan woman!" I’d have it no other way though; it was a
wonderful Guatemala moment.
So really, what Long Way Home gave to me was four weeks full
of “Guatemalan moments” (though obviously I was not constantly
accepting food directly from the mouths of indigenous
women!); “Guatemalan moments” defined simply as moments that snap you
back to the reality that you are living in the lush rural of 3rd world
Guatemala. My Guatemala moments came in all forms, be it trying to
define the concept of “volunteer” to disbelieving Guatemalans, hearing
forty-six 5th graders shouting “BOOY!!” in attempt to say “bull”
(pronouncing “bull” as it would be in Spanish) in a heated game of
Pictionary, or finding myself riding the multicolored, overfilled
Guatemalan “chicken buses” and carrying on a lively conversation with
the indigenous woman seated next to me about the significance of her
traje, or traditional Guatemalan outfit.
Life in Chimiyá is, no doubt, a life without the luxuries of home, but
after a while you realize how truly artificial some of those luxuries
are. The month I was actively working at the project, we had no
electricity, no showers on site (in town there ARE showers, so no
worries!), and our baking facilities consisted of a series of
carefully placed pots to form a stove of sorts. These quirky
obstacles never dampened our spirits, however, and we were always a
positive, forward-moving group. By the end of the first two weeks I
was at the project, New Zealand volunteer Amelia and I had built 5
grills out of adobe blocks and mud, planted about 70 plants in the
newly cultivated botanical garden, and did a major garbage clean-up
around the park. Intertwined throughout these three monumental tasks,
we were always busy hoeing and planting in the vegetable gardens,
teaching English, or figuring out some new foods that we could cook to
spice up our normal menu of rice or pasta wit
h veggies. Our efforts in the park all came to a head on June 24, for
San Juan’s big day, and the big soccer game was held at our beautiful
field. Two days later, New Zealand and I started our travel during
which I was going to spend no more than a week running around northern
Guatemala with her until she was to continue onto Belize, to Mexico,
to Cuba…
My one week journey turned into a four week hiatus from Chimiyá,
though my adventures all around Guatemala had not at all been in my
original plan. Jumping into the turquoise pools of Semuc Champay,
swimming in the caves in Lanquín, and climbing the ancient temples in
Tikal, I discovered the joy of traveling and was unable to stop until
I had completed the big tourist loop around Guatemala and even then
some more. After Tikal Amelia bussed up to Belize, but I, without
passport, was left with no other choice than to head back south and
explore the volcanoes, beaches, and museums Guatemala has to offer. I
climbed the highest point in Central America (Tajumulco), kayaked on
the pristine Lake Atitlán (a blue-green lake surrounded by sloping
volcanoes), and stayed in a paradisical hostel built on the Rio Dulce,
all on a fairly small budget and all staying within Guatemala. After
three weeks I sheepishly called Mateo to let him know that I was
indeed returning in no later than
a week to work at the park again and he was very understanding of my
need to travel and had himself taken a much deserved vacation to the
Honduran Bay Islands. We all (Mateo, Cat, and I) returned to Chimyá
on the same day, well-vacationed and refreshed, and started right up
the next morning working around the park, teaching English, and
cleaning house in anticipation of the volunteers that were on their
way.
My big Guatemalan adventure is ending and I am indeed sad that it is
already time to return back to the States. School at UW-Madison will
be starting where I will be starting my sophomore year, and life will
be unbelievably busy. I am, however, already planning my hopeful
return to Guatemala next summer. Chimiyá will definitely be a place
where I will return if not to work, at least to see the progress of
the park and visit Mateo and Cat and the two dogs and Chimi (the mouse-
hunting kitten).
Adios Guatemala!
annemary
