Swearing-in and First Week in Site

The San Bortolo Group and our Families

Ambassador

Just before the ceremony

Here I am, my first week in site... Life is busy yet tranquil, slow yet exhausting, new yet familiar. Life is good. Before I go into things here at site, I would like to reflect a bit on the swearing-in ceremony last Friday. It was a special day. I think Peace Corps does a good job of matching a meaningful ceremony with the magnitude it represents. For the 47 of us, this was it... The moment you anticipate from the time you click, "submit" on your online application. The moment you wait still for, after receiving your nomination. Then just when you think you're there, you must wait yet again to receive your invitation. Then finally you arrive... but wait! Three months of training! So wait yet again... Until now. Last Friday marked the official moment of, "Here I am." It was the symbolic representation of our collective emotion and pride... We all knew what was to come. We have all seen our sites, visited our schools yet most of us still have no idea what to expect.

The ladies of San Bartolo

When I arrived at site, I could almost feel the collective sigh of all 47 of us, as we let our last suitcase fall to the floor... "Here we are," we all thought. "All alone... Now what?"

My new room

If I had sat down to write this on my first day here, it may not have been such a pleasant read. I think as a rule of thumb, the first day is the hardest. I qualify this with the accounts I received from a few friends as well. I sort of wonder if Peace Corps sets it up this way, as one final test... They say to our counterparts, "Please make sure that on the first day, NOTHING goes as planned." More likely, it is just the anticipation we have built up over the last few months finally coming to a head. The first day is when you realize how small you are... When your alter your definition of progress as one drop added to a bucket of water, to progress as one drop added to the entire ocean!
My new best friend

Now that I sit here, nearly at the end of the week I feel good. I am adapting to life here. I appreciate the beauty and realness of doing everything by hand. I know there will be days when I miss microwaves, and washer machines but I truly am happy to be without them right now.
I found a bike which I have been riding to my schools for the past 2 days. I get a lot of strange looks because it's not everyday that you see a gringa on a bicycle. Also the roads here are not exactly conducive to a relaxing journey. So far I have nearly crashed at least once each day. I think the probability of me actually crashing is quite high... I just hope it won't be too bad. The three things I am most likely to crash into are:
1. a fence
2. a cow
3. a tree/shrub.
None of these things offer a very soft landing and so I am sure to wear my helmet all the time. I don't know if I will ever make the entire trip without getting off the bike and walking. The road is just so rugged, and quickly changes from steep downhill to extreme uphill. Perhaps there are mountain bikes out there that can handle this terrain but the bike I found cost about $120 so I can't complain.
Today I went to an anniversary party for one of the elementary schools. It was really impressive to learn about the history of this school. They were celebrating 40 something years, and told of how when the school was first built there were no roads leading to the village. When the school was brand new, it was reduced to rubble by the horrific earthquake of the 1970's. They rebuilt the school, and here it stands today, proud as ever. It was an honor to be invited to such a special event. I left soon after lunch and rode off on my bike as the sounds of the marimba band trailed off behind me.

Some little girls at the school's aniversary party

The ride home was even more grueling than they day before... -Perhaps because today was blistering hot. I had to get off my bike numerous times and rest. It seems pitiful because the ride is only 2km! But it's unlike any 2km bike ride I have ever experienced. I am certain that after two years of riding my bike, I will be fully prepared to take on the tour d' france. When I finally got back to the house, I looked as if I had just swam home... I was soaked with sweat, and had a tomato-red face. Everyone who greeted me looked at me the same way, as if to say, "why do this to yourself?" But I am determined... And honestly, I like riding my bike. It just will take some time to get into shape.

I spent the afternoon doing some chores. I did laundry and cleaned the bathroom. I would like you to take a moment and think about both of these tasks. Think well about how long it takes you to complete them. You could probably throw your clothes in the machine and clean the bathroom in the meantime... Well of course things are different here, and that is to be expected. It took me about 3 hours to do my laundry and about an hour to do the bathroom. I am not complaining here... only trying to paint an accurate portrait of what my day was like. I was so exhausted by 5pm I could have gone to bed right then. I slumped into the hammock to relax before getting up to cook dinner. In those few moments I sat on the patio, taking in the view; the mountains, the setting sun, and I acknowledged my weary body and realized that I felt good! I had a very fulfilling day, and yet I only got a few things done.
I have never been so domestic in all my life. When I get home from school, I take shower, change clothes, and put on an apron. I wear an apron whenever I am in the house! I have never even owned an apron and now I am the proud owner of 2. I wear it, not because it's fashionable, but rather because it's so darn useful! Both my aprons were given to me as gifts, and while I did not think I would use them at first, I now wonder how one could live without. Where else do you put clothes pins when hanging laundry on the line? Where to put your phone while washing in the pila? Need a napkin? No problem! Aprons do it all!

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Just as I was writing this in the flickering candlelight of my bedroom, I noticed a strange dark spot on the ceiling. It looked like a spot where the paint might be peeling and I thought, "that's strange, I don't remember seeing that before." So I grabbed my headlamp to investigate. When I looked up, there to my great horror was... a SCORPION!
Now, usually I am not unrealistically afraid of creepy crawly things but scorpions are the at the top of my list of scary things. I sort of panicked... I didn't know what to do. What is a scorpion anyway? Can you crush it? Is it a bug? Or is it more like a devil crab with an impenetrable shell? I imagined it to be the latter, and called one of my Peace Corps friends to see if she had any advice. "Kill it with a broom," she said. So I grabbed my old broom, took a deep breath and swept it off the ceiling. Now I don't know about you, but the image I had of scorpions consisted of them moseying along in the desert waiting to murder some unsuspecting victim... Well once I swept this guy to the floor he took off full speed! It caught my off guard how quickly he ran and hid... I swept him out from under his hiding place, and hit him with the broom but he scurried away unscathed. He ran across an open spot on the floor and I knew I had to act quickly... the broom didn't work the first time so I closed my eyes and gave a quick stomp with my flip flop. That did the trick... but he was a big guy, and his scorpion goo went all over. Gross. I decided it would be better to deal with cleaning it up in the morning.
As of now I am trying to calm down and convince myself that that was the only one...
-that there are not more lurking in the corner behind my bed. Before tucking myself in I sent out a little prayer that went like this, "Dear scorpion brothers (and sisters), I'm sorry for killing your comrade. Please don't come and seek vengeance on me. Goodnight."

Killer Scorpion...

PLEASE NOTE!
I am changing my address to a mailbox that is a bit closer to my site. I can still receive mail at the old address, so if you sent something, no worries. I should be able to receive mail faster, and with less risk of theft with this new box.

Grace Hansen/ PCV
Apartado 33
Chimaltenango, Chimaltenango
Guatemala, Centroamérica

¡Feliz Cumpleaños!

Waiting to "cut the cake."

A few weeks ago Rosa mentioned to me that she would like to get a cake to celebrate my birthday before I leave. She asked that we decide on a night, and that I invite the other girls over for a little fiesta and to share the cake. Well, we decided to do it tonight, Wednesday, July 14. While it is well before my actual birthday, Rosa insisted on the celebration and so it went....
The other girls came over in the late afternoon and we spent a few hours just enjoying one another's company, knowing full well that in just a few days we will no longer be able to. The plan was to cut the cake at 7pm and we were all expecting a small, casual affair with just us and Rosa... We took our seats at the table and patted out grumbling tummies, knowing that cutting the cake at 7pm actually meant cutting the cake about 8pm here in Guatemala... Around 7:30 some guests began to arrive. "Guests?" I thought... I thought it was just a small "parting of the cake," as Rosa called it. Little by little, neighbors, friends, and host families of the other girls began to arrive until the patio was full of people bearing gifts! I couldn't believe it! Let me just say that when it comes to birthday parties, Guatemalans don't joke around.

Once everyone arrived, we had a little feast of veggie-filled chuchos. Let me explain what this is... First they take the milled corn which is also used to make tortillas, they make a fill it with a delicious mix of finely chopped veggies and herbs, then wrap it in the corn husk and cook it. ¡Que rico! This was a very special dish because normally these are filled with pork or chicken parts but Rosa, knowing my preference for vegetables, made an exception. She also prepared a homemade cake with strawberries and figs.

I couldn't have been more surprised at how big of an ordeal this all was! I really felt like I didn't deserve all this from Rosa and from her friends and neighbors that I hardly know!

Everyone was so kind and generous and the gifts I received will be very handy in my new home.

One very special gift came from Rosa... I open a box to reveal a beautiful corte and guipil, the traditional Mayan blouse and skirt worn here. The corte had been altered and designed into an actual skirt which is much more practical for me. Normally a corte consists of 10 yards of fabric that is wrapped around the woman's waist in a very specific way and then fastened with a very long (very tight) beaded belt, called a faja.

I feel honored to have received such a special gift and I will wear it with pride during the swearing-in ceremony on Friday.

Not very fashionable... Mayan meets Gringa.

Rosa has been getting very emotional these past few days, and while I assure her that I won't be far away, she insists that it won't be the same as having me here day to day. The other night I gave her a little gift to say "thank you" for all her generosity and hospitality. It was a little handbag that is made out the traditional corte and guipil fabrics. When she opened it she began to cry. -Not because of the bag but because she says, "these past few months have filled her heart with happiness." I feel quite overwhelmed when she becomes so emotional because I honestly didn't do anything. But Rosa is still suffering the loss of her daughter. She says, "God gave me a daughter for 2 years and I was heart-broken when I lost her. Now God gives me other daughters, but they can only stay for 3 months and I am grateful for that." I try to assure her that we are still here, and that we will stay in touch but family is different here in Guatemala. All my family at home in the US, while we miss each other, we can get by with letters and phone calls and still know how much we care for one another. But here, families rely on the physical closeness. They depend one another for daily care and companionship. It's really a beautiful thing but also one that I cannot offer to someone like Rosa who longs for a daughter to stay with her and replace the one that she lost.
I will always be grateful for this experience... These 3 months have really shaped my attitude and mindset for the nest 2 years. I feel optimistic and prepared for the challenges to come. I feel a great passion and commitment to Guatemala and the many wonderful people who live her.
I'm ready.

(I wish I had more photos for this entry but I don't as of now... I promise to post more photos of my site as soon as I get settled in there).

Here I am in my last week of training... We have all just returned from our sit visits and will be swearing in as official Peace Corps volunteers in just 3 days. Last week began with counterpart day on Monday and Tuesday. I have 3 counterparts, only 1 of which I will be working directly with. My CTA (Technical Administrative Coordinator) works in the Ministry of Education and during counterpart day, he made a big show of taking me under his wing. I cannot help but suspect however, that this was more or less only a show and that like the volunteer I am replacing, I will not be working much with him. All of my counterparts were very friendly and we had some good talks. My CTA stretched some of the boundaries of professionalism and formality... Peace Corps had warned us that this was not uncommon, especially for female volunteers working with men. My CTA seemed harmless enough, he just didn't really respect my personal space. He also made told me a number of times how he had been to the US and knew a few words in English. He then proceeded throughout the hours of presentation to lean over to me when they said a word in Spanish to ask me what the word was in English. -Or he would lean over and give me the English translation of the words he did know. So every few minutes he would lean over (way to close to my ear) and whisper "fa family" "project" "youte, youte?" And I would say, "you mean 'youth'."
At one point he leaned over to me while our director was giving a presentation on The Bridge Model, and asked, "¿Como se dice, 'puente' en íngles? (How do you say 'bridge' in English). I told him and he repeated the word back to me, "Breege," he said in his heavy accent. A moment later he leaned over and whispered, "Breege... bitch." I was shocked! I said, "What did you say?"
"Breege... bitch. Iz the same, no? La playa (the beach)" he said.
"Oh! No, it is not the same," I replied, realizing the miscommunication... This game of me as the English dictionary/translator went on for quite some time and I was relieved when the long day came to a close. All in all, the time I spent with my counterparts (particularly the other two) was beneficial. On Tuesday, all 3 of them accompanied me to Chimaltenango to see me off to my new site. This was very helpful, as I had two huge suitcases to carry with me on the chicken bus. Again this day, my CTA was not the image of professionalism I had hoped for... I took my seat on the bus and he squeezed in the seat next to me and continued a bit with his demonstration of the words he knew in English. I was feeling a tired and impatient and tired of this man constantly in my personal space. Just before reaching our stop, he leaned in and said to me, "There are some very beautiful swimming pools around here. I'll take you there one day. Did you bring a bikini?"
That was it. Nope. No way.
"I know there are beautiful pools here, but they have nothing to do with the work you and I are doing. And no, I didn't bring a bikini, because as you know women in Guatemala do not wear bikinis." I said this with as polite a tone as I could muster and was glad the bus was stopping and we would be going our separate ways.
This is more or less exactly what Peace Corps had warned us about... Fortunately, nearly all the work I will be doing is in my Aldea where I will be working with my other counterpart, Byron, who is wonderful and very respectful. Byron accompanied me to San Martín where he showed me to my bus and helped me load up my bags. He introduced me to a group of smiling, barefoot, indigenous woman who also lived in Estancia de la Virgen. I chatted with them for a few minutes although they spoke sort of a mix of Spanish and Kaqchikel (the Mayan langauge)... -We understood one another well enough, and they told me the bus would not be leaving for another 2 hours so I roamed the market and found something to eat.
When I arrived to my site, I heaved my pile of luggage over to the side of the road and began dragging my suitcases toward the little white house which would be my home. I quickly realized that those fancy wheels on luggage don't help in the slightest when it comes to rugged, dirt and gravel, mountain roads... The family greeted me warmly and helped me get settled in right away. I will be living with a young couple, Yolanda and Rodolfo, and their two children, Mirian (6 years old) and Juan José (3 months). They are a very kind and wonderful family. The void left by the last volunteer is clearly evident in their constant reminiscence. They obviously miss her very much and I think it will be a delicate transition...
Little Mirian helped me settle in and unpack my clothes and we spent the night getting to know one another. The next morning I awoke early to head off to the school where my counterpart, Byron, is the director. Apparently it is about a 2km walk but it seemed a bit longer to me. The roads are very rough and the route to the school winds and weaves up and back down again, offering beautiful scenery as well as a good work out. I will be working in four schools here. Three of the schools are NUFED and one is a Telesegundaria. All the schools have less then 30 kids total and all seriously lack resources. I had the opportunity to visit three of the four schools and all of them had only two teachers to teach three grades. This means that there is always a class of students without a teacher.
As a second generation volunteer in the Peace Corps, Youth Development program, I am supposed to be focusing on working more with teachers and parents so as to make the program more well-rounded and sustainable. They have taught us to try and always have a teacher with us while doing a lesson so that teachers will know how to continue with these topics and teaching styles. But, if I am in a school where there sits a class of unattended students, I would not feel right leaving them without a teacher when I am perfectly capable of leading a class for them... It feels a little strange going into a school and trying to help them think of more effective teaching strategies when what they really need is more teachers!
I began to realize just how challenging this work will be when I sat down and talked to the only two teachers at the Telesegundaria. They explained to me that one difference between a NUFED and Telesegundaria is that Telesegundaria teachers are required to have a University degree whereas NUFED teachers are not. They also told me that Telesegundaria teachers are paid only marginally (if at all) higher salaries then those of NUFED teachers even though a higher degree is required. Therefore, there is not a lot of incentive for young people to pursue higher degrees because it costs a good deal of money to continue education, there are very few jobs available, and having a higher degree doesn't guarantee you will earn more money. So the teachers said to me, "There just is not much motivation for students to study. Especially here, many of them will choose to work in agriculture because it is steady-paying work."
It's true. This region is rich in agriculture and nearly every family has at least a handful of members working long days in the fields harvesting corn, coffee, green beans, or fruit. Often children are pulled out of school because the family needs an extra pair of hands in the field. While this is back-breaking work, it's true that it is a steady-paying job. I look at this little Aldea and the people that live there and I really admire them. Because they are so isolated, they form their own sort of micro economy. Many families own land which they grown crops and sell within the community and also export. There is one large green bean farm but almost all the rest of the land is locally owned. The families raise livestock on a small-scale and when they butcher an animal they sell the meat to the local carnecería (butcher) to be sold locally. They all eat fresh local foods. They are uninfluenced by free-market capitalism, nor the competition of factory farms. This is not to say that these things will never find their way to remote Guatemala...
I sat down one night to have dinner with Yolanda and Rodolfo and we discussed some of these things. I told them I admired the close-knit families so characteristic to Guatemala and that especially in Estancia, family seemed to be very important. Yolanda then turned to me and said, "You know, I cannot read or write. But I have a wonderful family, and I work hard everyday to make sure that they grow up to be good people, and I am happy."
And I thought... That's it. I think that Yolanda leads a very admirable and meaningful life. She will never be famous, nor win a Nobel Prize, but she doesn't need that. As Americans we expect to do great big things and be commended for our achievements but the reality is that great things are done on a small scale as well.
So, I am trying to figure out how to shape my main message to the youth here in Estancia de La Virgen... I want them to know that if they want to, if there is even a seed of interest in pursuing higher education, or any other goal... that these things are attainable with a lot of hard work. But that also, following in your parents foot steps and working in Estancia is an equally commendable existence. I hope then to focus more on stressing the importance of being an informed and responsible citizen. To teach youth about being a good role-model, the reality of drug and alcohol abuse, and the importance of reproductive health, and the awareness and prevention of HIV/AIDS. I think maybe it will be most effective to address some of the social issues directly affecting Estancia, like machismo and domestic violence. To teach young men the importance of being respectful to women and to teach young women to be more confident and empowered.
Can this be done in 2 years? The reality is probably not 100%, no... but these folks have already got me thinking and got me really reanalyzing my whole perspective here. I hope that in the next two years I can at least get a few of them thinking and analyzing as well.

Here are some photos from my first visit to Estancia:

Elián the great.

Driving around...

La Vacita. Baby Cow

A response to some inquiries...

I have received some inquiries about how and where to send care packages down here which I greatly appreciate. This of course is in no way expected or necessary. Here I will discuss some of the things I have been dreaming about, just as an easy and accessible way to inform those who are interested in sending something (but remember, TOTALLY not necessary)

In no particular order...
Tea
Unsalted nuts
Unsweetened, dried fruit
Ground coffee
Peanut Butter
Chocolate
Granola
Teriyaki Sauce
DVDs (Anything.. Maybe Tv shows?)
Jigsaw Puzzle
Dice
Deck of Cards
Books: Any! (especially books on Yoga and Pilates)
Teaching Supplies: Dry erase markers, pens, folders, notebook, large flash cards, large markers, post-its...
CD's for Ballet, Jazz/Hip Hop, Yoga/Pilates
LSAT book/study guide (used is fine with me)
GRE book/study guide (used :)
Anything else at all is greatly appreciated. Please don't feel obligated or go out of your way to find anything. Used books, Cds and Dvds are great!

My mailing address is:
Grace Hansen PCV/ Cuerpo de Paz
Apartado Postal 66
Antigua, Guatemala, Sacatepéquez
03001 Guatemala, Centro América


PLEASE NOTE: If you decide to send something here to Guatemala, Please PLEASE do NOT use FedEx, UPS, or DHL. These all charge a hefty tax and I will be unable to pay for, and pick up the package and it will likely be opened by mail couriers here and will never be seen again. So please just send things regular old US Postal service.
Also, you will be asked to identify what is inside for the package to pass through customs. It is highly recommend that you not use enticing vocabulary to describe what is inside. If it is anything valuable, it is better to say it is "T-shirts" and wrap the contents in an old t-shirt. It will make it though customs without a problem, and it is less likely to be intercepted and stolen in route.

Thanks so much and again please don't feel obligated.

SITE ASSIGNMENTS!!!

Gonzalo arrived in San Bartolomé at 8am this morning. In his arms he carried orange folders containing our destinies...

The anticipation was almost too much to bear! Hannah reportedly had been up since 3am, unable to sleep because she was so nervous.

It felt like Christmas morning when you're a little kid... Just dying to open that first present. One by one he passed out our orange folders and once we all had them in hand, we opened to the first page.

There, on a simply map of Guatemala, outlined in green highlighter was my department. And printed neatly in the corner was printed, "ADLEA ESTANCIA DE LA VIRGEN; SAN MARTIN, JILOTEPEQUE, CHIMALTENANGO"

It's official! I have been placed in Amanda's site! This is wonderful news because not only have I visited it twice, but I have gotten to know some of the people there and developed a good connection with Amanda so that I may continue some of her projects.

Also, this is one of the closest sites to the Peace Corps office and also to Guatemala City so it will make it very easy for me to meet family and friends at the airport when they come to visit. So get on down here!

Next week we will be spending the week in our new sites to get more acquainted. For many, this will be the very first time they will see their sites. For me, I will be moving into Amanda's old living quarters since she has already left to go home. It is a very exciting time... We are less than 2 weeks away from swearing in as volunteers and then it all begins...

La Rosa

On the eve of our site assignments I sat in the kitchen with Rosa over a dinner of eggs, tomato, and tortilla. I was antsy and excited to know where the next two years of my life would be set. Rosa looked up and said, "Grace, I am much more nervous than you are."
Then her eyes began to fill with tears and she began a lengthy and beautiful admission of her gratitude for all the volunteers she has received. She pointed out that she had never had the opportunity nor even the notion of leaving her home and her family to visit another country and be a volunteer, and that she really admired us doing this. She said that all the girls that have lived with her have been so kind, and have been a short-term replacement for the daughter she lost years ago.
"Have you noticed that my son's don't eat with me?" she asked. "Since they're father passed away (10 or more years ago) they take their meals in their rooms and I sit here in the kitchen and eat all alone. But when I have a volunteer here, I have someone to eat with, to laugh with, to talk to, and it makes me so happy."
At this moment I again was reminded of how strong a simple gesture can be. Just having the company of a volunteer brings Rosa so much joy, and to us it feels like we are doing nothing at all. I have not built her a new stove, nor a water purifying system, but I have sat with her nearly everyday and chatted with her over her home-cooked meals. That's all. And it meant everything to her. I feel like it is I, who has gained so much from her. I have eaten her delicious Guatemalan food, slept under her roof, and learned so much from her and I am so grateful. But she too is grateful, and was overflowing with so much gratitude that I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. She told me that she hoped I would be placed in a site that was close by and that we could visit each other often.
"I imagine you going on to have a beautiful life and to do wonderful things. I imagine that one day you will call me and say, 'Guess what Rosa, I'm getting married!' and that someday you will bring your children here to Guatemala and I will meet them" she said.
It was lovely what she was saying, although the thought of marriage and children sort of strikes fear into my heart at this age... But it is quite profound the connection we have developed in only 3 months. I thought about this, and how I have known Rosa just about as long as I have known all the friends I have made in Peace Corps and while our bond is different, it is still very special. One of the most difficult parts of these two years will be the absence of my wonder family and friends back home, but at least I am given hope that I have a Guatemalan family here to make things easier.

View from the patio...

Last Wednesday to Sunday we went on site visits which was very enlightening as to how our future service will be... Hannah and I went to visit Amanda's site in Estancia de la Virgen. We had been there a few weeks ago for a short day visit with our entire group, but this time we would have a much more intimate experience.
We arrived on Wednesday to this beautiful Aldea (village) and spent the afternoon catching up with Amanda and meeting her host family. Amanda is finishing her service and will be going home early this week and so she was preparing a yard sale to get rid a few things. As it turns out, one of us from the incoming Youth Development group will be replacing her and after our wonderful visit, Hannah and I both hoped it would be one of us.

One of the women from Amanda's Women's group and her son...

In the later afternoon Amanda's Women's group came over to check out the yard sale and also to have a last dinner before Amanda was sent off to the US. They all were very sad to see her go and it was touching to see how close she became with these women. We sat around the dinner table, three gringas, and five Mayan women, over bowls of spaghetti with meat balls. Half of the women had a child with them, either perched on there knee, or tucked in blanket and tied on their backs. I listened to the conversation, as each of the women reflected on the past two years, and all the experiences they had shared. They joked, and laughed, with one another, and even came close to tears as they wished Amanda well and anticipated the goodbye that was soon to come. I thought about this small Aldea, and these women... Maybe this volunteer didn't end world hunger, or create everlasting world peace. But here in this small, remote village, she made a change in the world. Perhaps it is a small change... but on the scale of this small community, she has changed the lives of these folks forever. If not for Peace Corps, they may have never truly known a gringo, just as this volunteer may have never truly known a Indigenous Guatemalan. This is cultural interchange is something so subtle yet incredibly powerful. Neither side will ever forget one another and the mutual respect will be lasting.

View from Amanda's room...

On another, and equally sentimental note... Hannah and I had the grand honor of (nearly) witnessing the miracle of life while on our visit in Estancia de la Virgen. The family's cow, it seemed was extremely pregnant and expected to give birth any day. The first night we were there, just before going to bed the cow's water broke... The family, wanting to keep a close eye on her, had moved her up to the side of the house. She was so close in fact, that if one were to go use the bathroom, hey would have to walk right by her. The cow, made sure to position herself with her rear facing the house and so anytime any of us went to use the restroom, we were sure to have a clear view of her "progress." This is the first time I have ever seen a cow go into labor, and witnessed the miracle of "dilating" and all I can say is, WHOA! (and maybe, ouch?) As it turned out, she did not give birth that night and in fact she waited until she was alone in the pasture the following day to deliver her calf so no humans were there to witness it. The family found the new mother and her calf, happy and healthy just hours after the birth and brought them both back to the house. The baby was so friendly and curious and reminded me more of a giant cat than a cow...

The family was very happy, and our visit was well-rounded with a myriad of new experiences. On Saturday, Hannah and I caught a ride in the back of a pick-up truck (the typical mode of transport here) back to the main city where we would then catch a bus home. The whole way home we wondered aloud who would be placed at this beautiful site with these wonderful people... I guess we shall know soon enough.