(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
