and you ask why i do it that way, it's just the fear of wasted time

Road Trip (A Haiku)
Bumpy old dirt roads
Eleven laughing women
Green and green and green.

To give you all an incredibly accurate portrayal of life in Guatemala:
This week we took our last women's group on their interchange trip to Totonicapán. This was our longest trip yet, and the group that lives the farthest out in the middle of nowhere- no water, no electricity. They are also my favorite group- they really enjoy each other and the traveling and joking. We started out at 8 am on Sunday- the bus picked me up last on the way out of town. We were missing about half the group because Mi Familia Progresa, a government program, was coming on Tuesday to give out money and the women couldn't miss that. We weren't planning on coming back until late Tuesday. So Rosanely decided last minute that we would come back Monday night and stay in Jocotán, where Mi Familia Progresa would be, so that everyone could go. That also meant, though, that we had to wait about an extra half hour for them to take a bus down from their community. So, we started off late but made decent time across the country (yes- more or less literally ACROSS the country) and by about 6 o'clock we were in the municipio of Totonicapán.

Right around that time it was discovered that no one in the van knew exactly how to get to the co-op we were supposed to be staying in. We therefore spent another 45 or so minutes driving around completely lost, and every person we asked for directions told us something different. The co-op, of course, was not answering their phone. After a lotttt of trial and error, we finally found the place, and Rosanely and I had to walk all over the property looking for whoever was in charge. When we finally found the little rain-booted señor, he showed us to his office, sat us down, took a deep breath, and said “Disculpe. Fijese que…”

Oh shit. Nothing good ever- EVER- comes after “fijese que”. Especially not when accompanied by a “disculpe”. I started picturing our 11 women, my counterpart, the chauffer and I trying to sleep in the squished van that already smelled like 10 hour road trip. Luckily, the problem was just that the rooms weren’t ready yet, as the people that had stayed in them the night before had only just left and “hadn’t felt like taking their bags out of the rooms”. So, could we please eat dinner while they cleaned the rooms up? Fine- I was just happy there was still (hypothetically) a bed for me somewhere.

During dinner my counterpart told me we had to go buy diapers for the women with babies because she had run out. Why she had not thought of this either: (1) at home in the past week or (2) An hour ago, before we had driven all the way out of town to the hotel, I’ll never know. But, she took the coffee out of my hands (apparently I was done…) and back into the van with the chauffer we went, telling Mr. Rainboots we were just going to the corner tienda and not to lock the gate- we would be back in five minutes.

A half-hour, ten tiendas, two chocolate bars, one pharmacy, and a panaderia later we returned, diapers (finally) in tow. We then spent the rest of the night filling out “listas” for the women to sign; one for each meal, bus trip, and hotel room. This is a particularly fun task with a group of women who neither read nor write.

The next morning we had to get an early start since we were leaving that day instead of the next. 6:30 breakfast and out the door (hopefully) by 7. Ha. Ha. Turns out, the only person that could provide a receipt (which my counterpart MUST have to get reimbursed) was not coming in until 8, so we would have to wait. Finally at 8:30 we piled back into the van and trucked it down the hill towards the community we were visiting. We picked up Doña Olga, the woman in charge, and she directed us to the community where the women were waiting.

At 9:00 we hit a road block- construction until 10. Of course. Doña Olga told us that we would have to rush through RIGHT at 10, as there were two more road blocks after this one that also opened at 10, and if we didn’t make it through them all at once who knows how long we would have to wait. Luckily we made it through the first two blocks- but ran into the third, where they told us it would be another hour. Considering the goal was to leave for home by 2:00, that didn’t sound so good. So, U-Turn on the one way, cliff side dirt road and up the back road by Doña Olga’s directions. (Please note- I don’t believe that Guatemala has anything BUT what qualifies in the states as a “back road”, so you can only imagine what a Guatemalan back road is like…)

We finally made it to the community around noon, interchanged, and began the journey home around 3. Yes, all that traveling for approximately three hours of activities. Even better, around 8 that night when we stopped for dinner, Rosanely called to have them get our rooms ready in Jocotán- and had forgotten it was the town feria in the neighboring town (that has no hotels) and so there were no vacancies. Luckily, she hunted around a bit and found a place, whch we arrived at around midnight, and slept soundly until 6 am when the women had to go get their money. Phew.

But, the thing that really makes this so classic Guatemala is that, despite all the ridiculous hassle, the interchange was absolutely the best one yet. Doña Olga is this kick-ass woman who has been working with her group for twelve years- they grow any kind of vegetable/fruit/herb you could imagine, and build houses, gutter systems, and green houses. When they were demonstrating how to turn a tire inside out to make a planter, the man who was doing it couldn’t cut the tire. Doña Olga hiked up her skirt, picked up the knife, pushed the man out of the way, and within two minutes had a planter.

The place we visited was a compound where four women- all without husbands for one reason or another- live and work together; them and their children. Highlight of my day was watching a little girl- probably nine years old- in her indigenous traje jump over the wall of a pig sty with a machete and, with one slice, chop a squash in half for the hungry, snorting pig that was probably 3 times her size. Like it was nothing.

Moral of the story is, I’m slowly learning that, while they may take way, WAY longer to do things in Guatemala, and planning/schedules are not their strong suit, if I can hold on to my patience and flexibility for the next two years (God help me!), I’m going to have a lot of absolutely incredible experiences. And, maybe, implement a few plans and some organization along the way…