Ya Mero...Almost Done

In three weeks, I will be back in the US. It is an incredible feeling; every time that I've sat down to update this blog, and reflect on life's most recent sentiments and events...and what that has been like for the last 25 months. My thoughts right now are all over the place, but that's not surprising considering that Peace Corps is really just one giant 2 year emotional rollercoaster. If I could describe my PC experience in one word, it would be "intense" - intense happiness, intense sadness, intense excitement, intense boredom. There have been times that I felt like my work was incredibly meaningful, and other times that I was ashamed at how incredibly unproductive I felt. We recently had our Close-of-Service Conference, where Peace Corps put us up in a nice hotel, fed us really well, and made us sit through many sessions, some of which hurt my abs from laughing so hard, others which brought tears to my eyes, and others that had me wondering how much longer until our next coffee break. Long story short, in our Municipal Development program session, our amazing director gave a really nice speech and told us that he was proud of us and knows that we all did our best. And it made me wonder. Did I really do my best here? Did I really try as hard as I could? I'd like to say that I did...but what about all those days that I went to work 1+ hours late? Or the weekends that I barely left my house and watched Greys Anatomy for hours on end? But I realize that while I may not have used my time to be the one hundred percent culturally integrated, 24/7 on the job-type of volunteer that Peace Corps likes to portray, I did a damn good job in Guatemala. I spoke to hundreds of women about human rights, domestic violence, family and womens health, self esteem, the list goes on. I taught women who didn't even know how to hold a pencil how to write their names. My voice entered family homes every week through my radio show. The list could go on. But over time, I have learned to value the importance of intangible as well as tangible successes. Although not without frustration...

Recently, I had one of those frustrating work moments that made me just want to throw up my hands in despair. I was planning an upcoming radio show with my counterparts; the theme for that week was menstruation (which as I've stated before, is something that barely any women here are educated about). I thought it would be really interesting to do a "myths" segment, since I've heard some crazy myths here - such as: you can't bathe while you have your period, can't drink cold water, etc. So, as we're writing down myths that come to mind, I exclaim, "oh! What about that one that says you can't prepare atol de elote (*delicious* hot corn drink) when you have your period?" and my counterparts were like, "oh but Carita, that is true!" I looked at them with that very obvious "are you f-ing kidding me?" look, and they go on to say, "atol de elote es muy delicado." Ok, so what about it being an easy drink to screw up during the preparation has ANYTHING to do with menstruation?? In the end, I stood my ground, and said "I won't want to offend your culture's beliefs, but I also don't want to give false information on our radio show."

On our most recent radio program, we commemorated El Día del Imigrante by inviting a local man and woman to participate and share about their experience going "mojado" (illegally) to the US - and what they feel that immigration's effect on women and families is, since our program focuses on those groups. Their stories, like many stories I hear from people who endure the hardship and sacrifice to go to "El Norte", were heartbreaking, but touched me in a different way, because they were professing their adversities and stories to a live audience. Doña Estela was crying as she said that her family begged her every day for 6 years to come home, and that things haven't been the same since she left. Don Fredy said that it took him 45 days to cross the border, and he regretted it every moment, especially since he wasn't able to bathe himself even once during that time. They said that the hardships that they endured are something they would never wish on anyone. We finished the hour and I had a heavy feeling in my heart. Not a single day in Guatemala has gone by that I don't remember how fortunate I am.

One of the most fun things I did within the last month was going to surprise David for his birthday. His sister and I had been scheming for over a month, and I used my last four days of annual leave to hop a plane to Juarez. The surprise was amazingly successful, although I vow that I am NOT doing any more surprises. It was so stressful to keep the secret, and during the entire connecting flight between Mexico City and Juarez, I was literally clenching the armrest so hard that I think the guy across the aisle thought it was my first time on an airplane. But it was well worth it to see the look of surprise on David's face, and get to spend some time with him and Valerie!

So you readers may remember that August last year, I did the hardest race I've ever done, El Ascenso a los Cuchumatanes (Ascent into the Cuchumatanes - the road from Huehue up to the summit, on the tallest mountain chain in Central America, and also where I live!) Well, this year, I was psyched to participate again, and my friend Erin and I spent months training. We planned our respective vacations around the date and couldn't wait to accomplish the impossible again. Well, typical Guatemala, they postponed the date for the following week - when I'd be in Mexico. Not wanting to feel like all my excitement and training was for nothing, Erin and I decided we'd run the Ascenso anyway - at least the course. Luckily, a few other people were down with the idea, thus forming our own *exclusive* race :) Right before leaving the house to start our journey upwards, I had the genius idea of pinning race numbers to our shirts. Who cared if they were race numbers from past half marathons? So off we went, with one wearing the Xela Half number, another wearing the Antigua Half number, Panama City, so on and so on. It was absolutely hilarious watching people's facial expressions as we chugged up the mountain, cheering us on in a very confused manner and commenting to each other, "I thought the race was next week??"

Elections are only a few days away, for all levels of government. It seems pretty obvious who the presidential frontrunner is, but I am very anxious to see who will be the next leader of Chiantla. Our current mayor pretty much sucks (to put it lightly) and has stolen hundreds of thousands of quetzales from public funds (he's been under investigation from the Attorney General for over 6 months. I'm sure it's been reallllly effective). I know that it's a common stereotype for public functionaries to be corrupt, especially in developing countries, but it's much more infuriating when it happens in a place that I love and call home. My hope is that things can only get better from here. But no matter what, I'll be so happy once the stupid pickups that blast political propaganda out of megaphones give me some peace and quiet! :)

My next three weeks basically consist of saying many goodbyes, packing up my house and giving everything away, and stuffing my face with as much of my favorite Guatemalan food as I can (while simultaneously salivating at all the amazing food I'll have ASAP once I'm back in the US!). While I'll save the mushy, overly emotional blog for the end, I really want to thank wholeheartedly everyone who has supported me throughout these years. I promise I will get around to thanking you individually soon :)


The 25 PCVs from my training group at our Close of Service Conference (we originally started with 35)

With three of my closest friends in Chiantla. Yes, some of my best friends here are between the ages of 8 and 10 :)

At the finish of our "fake" Ascenso a los Cuchumatanes race

A volcanic crater lake that a friend and I hiked to the day after running the Totonicapán Half Marathon this past weekend. Three days later and I am still sore

The collection of cards that I clothes-pinned to chicken wire in my house. If you ever sent me any mail, it was displayed right here, where I'd stare at the wall when I needed a little encouragement! :)

A set-up at our Feria right now, where people pay for their kids to sit on the plastic pony and take their photo in front of this "traditional" (?) US scene. I got quite a kick out of it.

And finally, if you're still reading, here's an article I wrote for a development blog that focuses on hunger and nutrition:
http://www.hunger-undernutrition.org/blog/2011/08/nutrition-education-in-guatemala.html