How come you always wind up changing your direction?

Look it up (A Haiku)
Guatemalan means:
completely blind to
the concept of time.

Just another one of those Peace Corps roller coaster days…

LOW POINT: It started off rough, with an early wake up and a sore throat. My room is always pitch black, making getting up at any hour kind of a chore.

HIGH POINT: But things started looking up when I managed to get to the main street right as a bus to Jocotán was passing, and even got a friendly driver, which is always a nice surprise. Because of the easy travels, I wound up at the gas station my counterpart and I had chosen as our meeting spot about fifteen minutes early (we were going to help Marisa, another member of the CODEFEM team, give a charla on Gender Equity), but, as always in the country of “la hora chapina”, I had my book with me and didn’t mind reading for a bit.

LOW POINT: 45 minutes later, I finally called my counterpart, who told me “ahorita voy” (Right now I’ll be there), which I knew was impossible as I heard her children and television set in the background…she lives in the next town over.

I tried to keep my patience, and eventually she arrived and we went to the center where the charla would be held. I was put on camera duty and the activities of the day began.

HIGH POINT (?): I still can’t decide if this should really be a high point, as it’s pretty incredible, but it was funny as hell. Marisa asked the group “What is Gender?”. There was silence for a good, solid minute. Finally she asked one man what he thinks it means. His response: “I think it’s the thread that you make fabric out of”. Someone else commented that no, it was actually part of a hammock. Marisa shook her head a bit and moved on, asking “What is equity?”. A woman’s answer: another word for wardrobe.

HIGH POINT: While working in groups, the women began to chat, and Felipa, a woman from one of my groups, began to tell a story about our trip to the capital for Dia de la No Violencia. The facilitator said “wow, you went to the capital?” and as she nodded in response, Felipa looked like she might die of pride.

LOW, LOW, LOW POINT: After the taller had finished, Rosanely wanted to go the restaurant in town where we have a charla of our own tomorrow. I managed to talk her out of going all the way back to the office, but she she still insisted she needed to go home to e-mail a picture to the central office (which apparently could not wait an hour). So, she went to “quickly” send the photo while I made my way to the restaurant to wait for her. Keep in mind, she went on her moto. I, however, waited a good 20 minutes for a ride from the owners of the place where the taller was to the center of town, where I had to flag down a tuktuk (little bumpy taxi) to take me across town to the restaurant. I sat down outside and, once again, pulled out my trusty book. Twenty, forty, sixty pages later…and still no counterpart. As sat in the 90 degree afternoon sun I started to wonder if maybe I understood her wrong. After all, her house is only twenty minutes away, at most. I called her. When she heard it was me she said “digame”…as if she had no idea what I could possibly want. I mean, why would I be calling her, an HOUR AND A HALF after she left me to run what should have been, at the most, a 45 minute (pointless) errand?? I, quite patiently (I think) told her I was here at the restaurant and didn’t know what she wanted me to do, so if she was expecting me to do it by myself I needed more information. Her response- once again, “Ahorita voy”. Two minutes later I got a call from her- “I have to go to the bank, give me time to do that and then I’ll be there”. I nearly threw the phone.

HIGH POINT: While seething over my counterpart’s complete…Guatemalan-ness, a little girl from the house across the street began to talk to me. Her name was Kimberly, and she was what the Higgins family likes to call an NST (Non Stop Talker). But, she was a friendly, clever NST and had me falling off my rock laughing, from starting off our conversation with “Are you reading the Bible?”, looking at my 900 page book, to her description of her family including the “real big pigs” that live in the house next to them, but always wander into their yard.

LOW POINT: Finally, finally, finally Rosanely arrived. We went to the restaurant, and…dropped of the radio I had been carting with me since the charla that morning, asked the husband to ask his wife to make breakfast for us in the morning, and left. I was fuming. I really, REALLY needed to be there for THAT?

HIGH POINT: I found a quetzal (equal to 1/8 of a dollar… but still a good find on a Peace Corps budget!) on the ground!

We trekked back to my town, where we had a meeting with the coordinator of the Muni’s Women’s Office. Two hours later, it was dark, and I was hot, sweaty, stinky, and tired. I was so excited to go home, shower, eat dinner, and crawl into bed. But, we still had to get everything arranged in the office that we needed for tomorrow. I started to walk to the office and Rosanely would meet me there on her moto.

LOWER POINT: I got to the office. One would think, me on foot and she on moto, she would be there first. She was not. I sat on the office stairs. It was too dark to read my book. Twenty minutes later…she showed up with BREAD SHE HAD STOPPED TO BUY AT THE BAKERY. I got everything arranged in the office as quick as I could, before I exploded, and jetted home.

HIGH POINT: Living in the 90 degree heat with no air conditioning and obnoxious people has really made me appreciate a nice, cold shower. I felt immediately better. Then, I had some of my homemade corn chowder and delicious fresh bread from my favorite bakery, and now am about to pass out…

Until I have to get up, bright and early, and do it all again tomorrow. The way I see it, at least I’m ending on a high point. Wish me luck!