Above the town, Marc Chagall
It happened almost a month ago now: I had been corriendo from one place to the next that day, trying to get as much done as possible before leaving my beloved site and in a mad rush to finish Shereeen’s birthday card, wash clothes, pack and make the last micro outta Nebaj, I took off and misplaced my wedding ring. When it didn’t turn up in any of the usual places, I panicked…I was torn between disregarding my weekend plans and searching my house up and down until I found it and needing to make this one last micro. I compromised and tore apart my room armed with a flashlight, giving up at the last minute possible, then literally running to the catch the micro as it drove out of Nebaj.
As was expected, I got the half-way seat created from moving the driver’s seat completely forward and upright. Some part of the engine is definitely burning beneath that seat, cuz you literally burn your ass off and are best advised to not wear clothing that directly exposes your skin to this burning-hot surface! Needless to say, my physical discomfort was usurped by the emotional distress and plain ol’ heartbreak that overwhelmed me. Now, admittedly I am a drama queen with regards to these asuntos, but I truly felt like my subconscious had played an evil trick on me that afternoon, like some hidden force within me drove me to misplace my ring without me consenting or much less noticing. Like this was all a realized metaphor for what I am doing or have done to my actual marriage. Set it aside, forgotten about it and gone along my own way.
And I felt and often feel incredibly guilty and selfish. Even though philosophically I believe in the idea of 2 individuals sharing their lives in a way that also supports each other’s unique, and sometime separate, pursuits, realistically this is difficult. Because there are always going to be differences, challenges and disconnection. Distance only magnifies all that. Clears away the minor details in order to make present the core and true depth and condition of your relationship.
Because I think of a relationship as something like a ven diagram…two separate spheres of experience coming together and creating this overlap of shared experiences, ideas and interests. Some of this overlap is achieved easily-almost naturally and without much effort, but a good part is crafted and developed with great care and effort. And I believe it is that totally new part created that ends up being the greatest support of a relationship, because it is completely and uniquely yours as a couple. Something real and beautiful created where there was nothing before. It’s magical, really.
And so that’s what you have left when the distance eats away at all the simpler, less substantial connections. Whatever you built together and work toward maintaining. However, even with nearly 7 years of carefully and lovingly building this thing all our own, this experience simply invites and encourages my larger individual sphere to grow and pull away in its own direction. For the first time in my life, I am own and it is no longer scary or weird, but instead comfortable and even freeing. I like who I am becoming-even with the doubts, fear and uncertainty.
Luckily for me, Kostya also likes who I am becoming, even when it has meant more distance between us. He truly loves and supports me-to the point that could be risky, because he also truly believes in the beautiful, magical thing we’ve created together. For me, that is true love. And it also something I really believe in and want only to grow and flourish.
Anyway, this past Sunday I finally got a chance to go all clean-freak chloro and toothbrush in hand on my house. While sweeping the beneath the sink, the sound of metal klinked across the floor and out came my ring! I almost couldn’t believe it. I had been looking for almost a month now and had pretty much given up. However, what I clearly hadn’t done was sweep my kitchen floor :P Surprisingly my host dog who regularly rampages my kitchen, stealing raisins (that have yet to be returned, chucho!) and whatever else is on the floors or within each, did not get to my ring and eat it like he has to at least 2 pen caps!! Miracle? Perhaps, I am generous with the term, but at the end of the day, I prefer to believe in magic. I prefer to believe in the us we created and continue to create. 
   

Above the town, Marc Chagall

It happened almost a month ago now: I had been corriendo from one place to the next that day, trying to get as much done as possible before leaving my beloved site and in a mad rush to finish Shereeen’s birthday card, wash clothes, pack and make the last micro outta Nebaj, I took off and misplaced my wedding ring. When it didn’t turn up in any of the usual places, I panicked…I was torn between disregarding my weekend plans and searching my house up and down until I found it and needing to make this one last micro. I compromised and tore apart my room armed with a flashlight, giving up at the last minute possible, then literally running to the catch the micro as it drove out of Nebaj.

As was expected, I got the half-way seat created from moving the driver’s seat completely forward and upright. Some part of the engine is definitely burning beneath that seat, cuz you literally burn your ass off and are best advised to not wear clothing that directly exposes your skin to this burning-hot surface! Needless to say, my physical discomfort was usurped by the emotional distress and plain ol’ heartbreak that overwhelmed me. Now, admittedly I am a drama queen with regards to these asuntos, but I truly felt like my subconscious had played an evil trick on me that afternoon, like some hidden force within me drove me to misplace my ring without me consenting or much less noticing. Like this was all a realized metaphor for what I am doing or have done to my actual marriage. Set it aside, forgotten about it and gone along my own way.

And I felt and often feel incredibly guilty and selfish. Even though philosophically I believe in the idea of 2 individuals sharing their lives in a way that also supports each other’s unique, and sometime separate, pursuits, realistically this is difficult. Because there are always going to be differences, challenges and disconnection. Distance only magnifies all that. Clears away the minor details in order to make present the core and true depth and condition of your relationship.

Because I think of a relationship as something like a ven diagram…two separate spheres of experience coming together and creating this overlap of shared experiences, ideas and interests. Some of this overlap is achieved easily-almost naturally and without much effort, but a good part is crafted and developed with great care and effort. And I believe it is that totally new part created that ends up being the greatest support of a relationship, because it is completely and uniquely yours as a couple. Something real and beautiful created where there was nothing before. It’s magical, really.

And so that’s what you have left when the distance eats away at all the simpler, less substantial connections. Whatever you built together and work toward maintaining. However, even with nearly 7 years of carefully and lovingly building this thing all our own, this experience simply invites and encourages my larger individual sphere to grow and pull away in its own direction. For the first time in my life, I am own and it is no longer scary or weird, but instead comfortable and even freeing. I like who I am becoming-even with the doubts, fear and uncertainty.

Luckily for me, Kostya also likes who I am becoming, even when it has meant more distance between us. He truly loves and supports me-to the point that could be risky, because he also truly believes in the beautiful, magical thing we’ve created together. For me, that is true love. And it also something I really believe in and want only to grow and flourish.

Anyway, this past Sunday I finally got a chance to go all clean-freak chloro and toothbrush in hand on my house. While sweeping the beneath the sink, the sound of metal klinked across the floor and out came my ring! I almost couldn’t believe it. I had been looking for almost a month now and had pretty much given up. However, what I clearly hadn’t done was sweep my kitchen floor :P Surprisingly my host dog who regularly rampages my kitchen, stealing raisins (that have yet to be returned, chucho!) and whatever else is on the floors or within each, did not get to my ring and eat it like he has to at least 2 pen caps!! Miracle? Perhaps, I am generous with the term, but at the end of the day, I prefer to believe in magic. I prefer to believe in the us we created and continue to create. 

   

Joyce Ellen Weinstein
Through our eyes, the universe is perceiving itself. Through our ears, the universe is listening to its harmonies. We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its glory, of its magnificence

Joyce Ellen Weinstein

Through our eyes, the universe is perceiving itself. Through our ears, the universe is listening to its harmonies. We are the witnesses through which the universe becomes conscious of its glory, of its magnificence

Mother’s Care

Mother’s Care

This song is for you, dear friend. I hope to see you again one day. Until then, keep inspiring me and thank you. 

Insecurity and “1st World” privileges in the “3rd World”

Peace Corps Guatemala has recently received a slew of unsettling news…the cancelling of incoming training classes until 2013, moving up of volunteers’ Close of Service (COS) dates, removal of volunteers from several sites and concentration of volunteers in the “western highlands” and most recently the offer of Early Close of Service due to security concerns for any and all volunteers here in Guatemala. And all of this coming at us upon our return from holiday vacations and visits home!

It’s been impossible to not wonder about what this all means? What will come next…

And how much I feel in and out of control of the situation. On one hand, my ability to complete my service depends on decisions I do not make or even directly influence. On the other hand, I have the reassurance and advantage of knowing that Peace Corps and the US government have my back. While they may not be able to stop every security threat or incident, they do all they can to protect me from those threats and will take care of me if an incident occurs.

 I’ve thought about how this degree of protection articulates our very different status and experience here in Guatemala-one of the many privileges that will always distinguish us from the people we live and work with. When the going gets tough, for example in terms of security, we have a “pass” out of the country. When the going gets tough for our Guatemalan neighbors, counterparts and host families, they have no such privilege or choice but to stick it out and hope for the best.

The feelings of guilt that have surfaced within me remind me of my experiences of disadvantage in other social settings: the clarity of feeling and seeing others’ power over me and their acute inability or unwillingness to see it. An article, Peggy McIntosh’s “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” illuminated this for me as a young 20-something year old in college, and this recent offer of “interrupted service” begins to illuminate it for me now: the many unearned and often unnoticed privileges I have as a “1st world” citizen.

Although, I feel strongly that safety and the freedom to participate fully in society are rights everyone should have, I also realize that at this time, we do not all get to enjoy those rights and that as such, they are but privileges that some of us have and others want.

What are the other privileges us “1st world” citizens have and benefit from? In an effort to better recognize and understand these privileges, I have written a working list. Here it goes…

Please, add to this list other privileges you recognize…

These are both privileges I receive in the “first world” and when I am identified as a “first world” citizen in other countries, specifically Guatemala.

Some of these are rights I believe everyone should have. Others I feel warrant serious re-evaluation.

1. When I do not feel safe living abroad, I can return to my country of citizenship with the reasonable expectation of generally higher levels of safety.

2. If I am robbed or assaulted, I have reasonable confidence in the local police and justice system to process my report of the incident.

3. As a woman, I can walk alone on in my community and complete daily tasks without being regularly harassed, without changing my appearance or behavior in order to avoid harassment.

4. My expectation of access to clean water, electricity and safe housing is assumed and usually granted if available.

  • I have personally experienced and heard of situations where volunteers live in the best house in their community or the best part of their host home. For example, while I have regular water and a shower with a water heater, my host family has chosen to live in the part of the house that has limited water and no shower (they use a temascal, a mayan sauna-like bathing room or the pila, a large sink contraption).

5. I can turn on the television, flip through magazines or look at most any popular product advertisements and see the developed world lifestyle widely represented and valued. And the more “developed” the lifestyle, the more European/white the persons tend to look.

6. Because of my appearance (whether it be the color of my skin, generally once-owned, higher quality clothing, or distinct behaviors) as a foreigner, I am often given better seats on buses or attended to earlier than other customers at stores.

7. People admire you and your way of being solely based on your being from the U.S.

  • I am automatically the center of attention at social events
  • I am treated as a special guest, often served and accommodated first and better than my native colleagues.

8. I am a highly sought-after potential girl/boyfriend/future wife/husband (especially if I am fairer skinned or more European looking)

9. You are assumed to have better or more valuable education and skills than the rest.

10. A nutritious, diverse diet is generally accessible to me in the U.S.

11. I and most of my peers are able to own and drive cars in the U.S., therefore increasing my capacity to access places and complete tasks more quickly.

12. In the U.S., we are accustomed to having access to a wide variety of recreation and entertainment, for example free public parks, sports fields, community centers, libraries, malls, movie theaters, restaurants, etc.

13. As a woman, I feel I have the right and ability to go out past dark without being scolded by our families/roommates. I generally feel safe when I go out at night and can return home safely at the hour I determine.

14. As a woman, I am generally respected in professional settings. My gender and appearance do not provoke or warrant sexual harassment from male colleagues (cat calls, nick names, flirting, greetings that linger on into unwanted physical contact)

15. I have the privilege of knowing the world is at our fingertips: I can and will most likely travel throughout my own country and to other countries.

  • Most of our host families have never left their hometowns.

16. My U.S. passport allows me to travel to most countries with ease. It is also a significantly easier and quicker process for me to solicit and receive work/study/other visas to other countries.

17. I did not have to pay (other than minimally through taxes) for my primary and secondary education if I went to public schools. The only things I was expected to pay for were basic school supplies and extracurricular activities.

  • Here in Guatemala, public schools are still primarily formed and funded by the local communities whose children attend the schools. The first few classrooms may be built by the local/national government, but any classrooms and materials (chalkboards, desks, supplies, etc.) needed thereafter are usually provided by the families of students.

18. There is sufficient space at public higher education institutions to accommodate those qualified and interested in attending. See: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/11/world/africa/stampede-highlights-crisis-at-south-african-universities.html?_r=2&hp

19. I am a part of the 6.7% of the world population that has had the opportunity to obtain a college degree, leading me and many of my peers to have a higher formal education level than approximately 93.3% of the world population.

20. Although unemployment in on the rise throughout the world, including the “first world”, I have so far been able to find work that I find both financially and personally satisfying. I have even been able to choose between jobs at times.

  • Whether it is seeing a 7-year old child prepare and sell snacks to fellow children in school or a man pedaling hemorrhoid cream over a megaphone in the market on buses day in and out, I realize we choice is a privilege, especially when comes to the range and availability of work.

21. I can put toilet paper in the toilet without fear of the pipes clogging and exploding!

22. I value and have a high expectation of personal space and privacy, so much so that I consider it normal for an adult to live on their own, in their own apartment.

  • Most Latin Americans live at home with their families until married, with their own children and enough means to purchase their own space.

23. I am accustomed to public trash services and an abundance of trash receptacles. I am not used to and dislike the sight of trash casually thrown on the ground.

  • Most of the aldeas (villages) I work in do not have any trash collection services, and thus resort to burning trash or dumping it in more remote areas.

24. I have regular access to clean water, electricity and air conditioning. I can regulate the temperature of my house so that I wear (or not wear) whatever I want inside my home.

25. I have consistently had access to a variety of books and reading throughout my childhood and life. I don’t have to buy books in order to read them.

  • Most of my students own a minimum number of books (usually a bible and dictionary). Increasingly, libraries are being built in urban areas (county seats and departmental capitals), but usually books are not arranged so that you can browse and you cannot take books out of the library.

26. As a customer at a store, I am generally trusted not to steal. This is evident by the open display of products available for me to pick up and handle.

  • Because petty theft is common, most stores keep their merchandise behind the counter and the counter sometimes behind metal bars. When stores do openly display products, they usually require you to turn in bags and purses before entering and often have guards or employees closely watch/follow customers. 

Getting some insight…
James Steinberg Featured in Time magazine issue on Science of Mind & Body
The Incident
As a pretext to this entry, I would just like to firmly state that I am fine, well cared for and happier than ever to be here in Guatemala, and in Latin  America.
Because in spite or because of the violence, corruption and injustice that exist, I feel oddly more alive and full of purpose here. The Guatemalan people are good, generous members of our global family whose dignity has been denied and disregarded for centuries in exchange for cheap resources and labor-and mostly by political and economic powers of the “developed” world. Such exploitation and denigration of a people and place inevitably results in increased violence, corruption and injustice.
Given this experience, one would expect reservation and even resistance on the part of Guatemalan people to outside government-directed “development” programs; however my clumsy but heartfelt attempt to help has been received with much love, kindness, cooperation and guidance.
And after all said and done, I feel it is the difficult experiences that give privileged individuals like me a tiny glimpse into the reality the vast majority of the rest of the world lives. And yes, it should shock us, scare us, anger us…but ultimately summon within us some sense of solidarity with and responsibility toward our fellow brothers and sisters.
I feel only more motivated to be here and work alongside Guatemalans toward a more peaceful and just reality.
…….
That Sunday, Kostya had left. It was just as hard seeing him leave after his 2-week visit as it was when I left for this 2-year adventure. I was returning from a doctor’s appointment in Guatemala City…took the Peace Corps approved taxi to Tikal Futura and waited to catch a bus to la Gasolinera San Lucas where Kim and I planned to meet and catch a bus back to El Quiche.
Impatient, I just wanted to get on and get going. Buses didn’t come right away and then oddly one came for Quiche…And something in me felt weird about subiendo that bus…I should have at least asked if they were going to definitely stop in Santiago, but instead I just hopped on and zoned out until the ayudante came to collect los pasajes. He then informed me that they were already full and not planning to stop until Chimal. UGH! I’d have to call Kim and let her know I wasn’t gonna be able to meet up with her…The irony here is that I almost never make or pick up calls on the bus, but that day just happened to be the day I’d let my guard down.
And it must have begun right when I made that call. They came from the back and I maybe remember hearing noise but did not distinguish it from typical camioneta bulla. And since I was on the phone, I wasn’t fully there and alert to my surroundings.
Then, all of the sudden someone yanked at my arm and phone and my natural reaction was to pull back, confused, this back and forth happened until I turned to realize that this guy was robbing me and everyone on the bus and that he had a large knife at the side of my head. He yelled, “Este es un asalto, puta” and rammed the back of the knife hard in the side of my head. I fell into the side of a little old man sitting beside me. He and the other assailant then proceeded to pat us all down-checked my pockets, lifted up my shirt and shoved his hands down blouse searching and grabbing nervously at whatever he could find hidden in these places.
I felt completely frozen and tunnel-visioned…I remember things but from a very narrow and fuzzy lens. I didn’t dare lift my head up and around to take it all in. I just wanted it to end. Then I felt a wetness dripping from my forehead. Since I was in the very front seat, I could see myself in the rearview mirror and realized my face was slowly becoming covered in blood.
They had us remove our shoes and socks and throw our bags to the aisle. And it was as if I had removed myself from everything for a moment, as if I was watching a movie of this happening-examining and critiquing its form…just as Peace Corps described to us in training, they were young and obviously nervous and rash.
I watched as he cut the flap of my backpack instead of simply undoing the clasp. When he saw that there was a further strap to untie underneath, his hands fidgeted and eventually he just gave up and moved on…All the while, they kept screaming in deep voices that it was not a joke and that they would kill the chofer or whoever was not willing to cooperate.
Except for their screaming, the bus was mostly silent, shocked and scared. About 15 minutes after this all began, they demanded to get off…they were trying to get through and finish quickly. They were exactly how our security trainers described them. Still, I couldn’t get myself to look around and take in any of the details that actually mattered. They were like giant faceless adults punishing us, putting us in our places.
Once they were clearly off the bus and the bus was clearly away from them, I began to finally unfreeze and let go. Everyone did. They examined and mourned their losses and yelled at the chofer and ayudante to take me to the hospital and to respond to whole thing in general, but they seemed just as shocked and lost. We were on this bus of a nightmare together frazzled, violated and panicked.
And what kept coming up in my mind is would anyone ever even know about us? About what happened? Would it actually be possible and worthwhile to report this? Would anything really be done about it?
Not knowing what I had left on me-if I had anything left on me-all I could think about was possibly still finding Kim at San Lucas…finding someone I knew and trusted. When we got there, I gathered my things and self in a rush and stumbled off the bus. Covered in blood, hiccup-crying and frantically searching for Kim, people initially stared at me with a mix of confusion and possible fear. I may have looked a little gruesome, but deep down I knew it wasn’t that bad, so when I didn’t see Kim, I ran to the first guard I could find. As soon as I explained my situation, he and others gathered around to help me. People were offering their cell phones, offering to take me to the hospital…even the little kids selling chips offered me a snack! I was a little overwhelmed and could only think about getting to Peace Corps. Luckily, I found a list of important numbers in one of the pockets of my backpack and was able to call the Peace Corps nurses and like that they were on their way to pick me up.
 I tried to escape the crowd and reassure everyone that I was now fine and just needed to simply wait for the nurses to arrive. They looked at me like I was crazy, but slowly backed away…except for one lady who would just not leave. She took me to wash my face and when people gawked at me on the way over, she simply greeted them as a way to deflect their stares. She tried to calm me down with small talk…asked me where I was from-the US. Since this answer never seems to satisfy people, she then asked where my parents were from-Peruvian dad. Oh Ok. She told me about a Peruvian friend she had and how “los Peruanos son muy buenos”. And it really did help calm me down. She sat with me, her arm around me until the Peace Corps nurses arrived…from then on I felt relieved, safe, and cared for. I knew it had ended and that I was in very good hands.
At least in my experience, Peace Corps’ response was immediate and complete. They were professional and thorough as well as sensitive, accommodating and incredibly supportive. If anything, I feel completely confident in the Peace Corps Guatemala’s medical and Security staff’s ability and willingness to respond effectively to these situations.  
And that is the incident-isolated and in the past. 

Getting some insight…

James Steinberg Featured in Time magazine issue on Science of Mind & Body

The Incident

As a pretext to this entry, I would just like to firmly state that I am fine, well cared for and happier than ever to be here in Guatemala, and in Latin America.

Because in spite or because of the violence, corruption and injustice that exist, I feel oddly more alive and full of purpose here. The Guatemalan people are good, generous members of our global family whose dignity has been denied and disregarded for centuries in exchange for cheap resources and labor-and mostly by political and economic powers of the “developed” world. Such exploitation and denigration of a people and place inevitably results in increased violence, corruption and injustice.

Given this experience, one would expect reservation and even resistance on the part of Guatemalan people to outside government-directed “development” programs; however my clumsy but heartfelt attempt to help has been received with much love, kindness, cooperation and guidance.

And after all said and done, I feel it is the difficult experiences that give privileged individuals like me a tiny glimpse into the reality the vast majority of the rest of the world lives. And yes, it should shock us, scare us, anger us…but ultimately summon within us some sense of solidarity with and responsibility toward our fellow brothers and sisters.

I feel only more motivated to be here and work alongside Guatemalans toward a more peaceful and just reality.

…….

That Sunday, Kostya had left. It was just as hard seeing him leave after his 2-week visit as it was when I left for this 2-year adventure. I was returning from a doctor’s appointment in Guatemala City…took the Peace Corps approved taxi to Tikal Futura and waited to catch a bus to la Gasolinera San Lucas where Kim and I planned to meet and catch a bus back to El Quiche.

Impatient, I just wanted to get on and get going. Buses didn’t come right away and then oddly one came for Quiche…And something in me felt weird about subiendo that bus…I should have at least asked if they were going to definitely stop in Santiago, but instead I just hopped on and zoned out until the ayudante came to collect los pasajes. He then informed me that they were already full and not planning to stop until Chimal. UGH! I’d have to call Kim and let her know I wasn’t gonna be able to meet up with her…The irony here is that I almost never make or pick up calls on the bus, but that day just happened to be the day I’d let my guard down.

And it must have begun right when I made that call. They came from the back and I maybe remember hearing noise but did not distinguish it from typical camioneta bulla. And since I was on the phone, I wasn’t fully there and alert to my surroundings.

Then, all of the sudden someone yanked at my arm and phone and my natural reaction was to pull back, confused, this back and forth happened until I turned to realize that this guy was robbing me and everyone on the bus and that he had a large knife at the side of my head. He yelled, “Este es un asalto, puta” and rammed the back of the knife hard in the side of my head. I fell into the side of a little old man sitting beside me. He and the other assailant then proceeded to pat us all down-checked my pockets, lifted up my shirt and shoved his hands down blouse searching and grabbing nervously at whatever he could find hidden in these places.

I felt completely frozen and tunnel-visioned…I remember things but from a very narrow and fuzzy lens. I didn’t dare lift my head up and around to take it all in. I just wanted it to end. Then I felt a wetness dripping from my forehead. Since I was in the very front seat, I could see myself in the rearview mirror and realized my face was slowly becoming covered in blood.

They had us remove our shoes and socks and throw our bags to the aisle. And it was as if I had removed myself from everything for a moment, as if I was watching a movie of this happening-examining and critiquing its form…just as Peace Corps described to us in training, they were young and obviously nervous and rash.

I watched as he cut the flap of my backpack instead of simply undoing the clasp. When he saw that there was a further strap to untie underneath, his hands fidgeted and eventually he just gave up and moved on…All the while, they kept screaming in deep voices that it was not a joke and that they would kill the chofer or whoever was not willing to cooperate.

Except for their screaming, the bus was mostly silent, shocked and scared. About 15 minutes after this all began, they demanded to get off…they were trying to get through and finish quickly. They were exactly how our security trainers described them. Still, I couldn’t get myself to look around and take in any of the details that actually mattered. They were like giant faceless adults punishing us, putting us in our places.

Once they were clearly off the bus and the bus was clearly away from them, I began to finally unfreeze and let go. Everyone did. They examined and mourned their losses and yelled at the chofer and ayudante to take me to the hospital and to respond to whole thing in general, but they seemed just as shocked and lost. We were on this bus of a nightmare together frazzled, violated and panicked.

And what kept coming up in my mind is would anyone ever even know about us? About what happened? Would it actually be possible and worthwhile to report this? Would anything really be done about it?

Not knowing what I had left on me-if I had anything left on me-all I could think about was possibly still finding Kim at San Lucas…finding someone I knew and trusted. When we got there, I gathered my things and self in a rush and stumbled off the bus. Covered in blood, hiccup-crying and frantically searching for Kim, people initially stared at me with a mix of confusion and possible fear. I may have looked a little gruesome, but deep down I knew it wasn’t that bad, so when I didn’t see Kim, I ran to the first guard I could find. As soon as I explained my situation, he and others gathered around to help me. People were offering their cell phones, offering to take me to the hospital…even the little kids selling chips offered me a snack! I was a little overwhelmed and could only think about getting to Peace Corps. Luckily, I found a list of important numbers in one of the pockets of my backpack and was able to call the Peace Corps nurses and like that they were on their way to pick me up.

 I tried to escape the crowd and reassure everyone that I was now fine and just needed to simply wait for the nurses to arrive. They looked at me like I was crazy, but slowly backed away…except for one lady who would just not leave. She took me to wash my face and when people gawked at me on the way over, she simply greeted them as a way to deflect their stares. She tried to calm me down with small talk…asked me where I was from-the US. Since this answer never seems to satisfy people, she then asked where my parents were from-Peruvian dad. Oh Ok. She told me about a Peruvian friend she had and how “los Peruanos son muy buenos”. And it really did help calm me down. She sat with me, her arm around me until the Peace Corps nurses arrived…from then on I felt relieved, safe, and cared for. I knew it had ended and that I was in very good hands.

At least in my experience, Peace Corps’ response was immediate and complete. They were professional and thorough as well as sensitive, accommodating and incredibly supportive. If anything, I feel completely confident in the Peace Corps Guatemala’s medical and Security staff’s ability and willingness to respond effectively to these situations.  

And that is the incident-isolated and in the past. 

PACA Madness!!

During our first three months as volunteers, we are charged with conducting a community assessment. And so that it is a more complete and community-derived assessment, we are trained in a crazy lil process called Participatory Analysis for Community Analysis, or as it is affectionately known PACA-which BTW in Guatemala refers a used clothes store! Anywho, PACA is composed of three main activities: the Community Map-which I was ALL about, the Daily Schedule, and the Seasonal Calendar. Each activity is group-based, hands-on and very visual. The activities are designed so that it is not necessary to be able to read or write-simple drawings suffice.

Coming from my last job where participatory analysis was EVERYTHING, I latched on to this PACA stuff right away….Because it pretty much sucks to get started and into projects that you later find out the community you’re serving isn’t really into. Getting to know the people with whom you will be working and giving them the chance to direct the work from the start is so important, especially when you’re this crazy clueless foreigner comin’ into their schools and homes.

However, the challenge with any analysis is figuring out how to put all that good information to work. How to truly use the information gathered in order to create goals and projects that will help achieve those goals. The group has to be able to process the information and draw some kind of conclusion and decision about what to do next…

Since I am working with schools, I did the PACA activities with students, teachers and parents of the students-which are the 3 groups I will be working with! It was pretty interesting to see the similarities and differences between the 3 groups and how they approached the activities. The kiddos got REALLY into the drawing and visual representation part-would be makin’ 2 drafts and pullin’ rulers out left and right! The teachers weren’t the best drawers, but provided very thorough information and used up way too much of my paper! The parents got the MOST into this activity and took it super seriously! They really wanted to provide me with good, useful information.

Now a little bit about each activity and working with each group…

Community Map: The Community Map is just that-a map where participants draw a picture of their community according to their particular experience of that community. For the students, I had half of them draw maps of their whole village community and half draw maps of school community, so that I could get a feel for what they perceive to be community-wide issues and needs as well as school-specific ones. After participants have drawn a basic sketch of their community, they are given different colored and shaped pieces of paper which they use to further describe their community. I had them do 3 things: mark places they like and don’t like, mark resources or places of most importance, medium importance, and least importance to them, and then blank pieces of paper where they would draw or simply write needs and then place those papers where they most want to fulfill those needs. I personally find this activity to be the most useful and easiest to grasp for participants.

   

Red Circle-Most important place/resource;Green circle-Place/resource of medium importance; Orange-place/resource of least importance (according to participant)

Yellow-places you like; Blue-places you don’t like

White squares-community needs

Daily Schedule: In all the activities, it is suggested to divide the group according to gender so that the different experiences of women and men are more fully represented. This activity especially helps highlight those differences and can lead into a very interesting post-activity discussion! For this activity, I asked the participants to write out their daily routine from the moment they wake until the moment they go to sleep-to list out every activity in which they engage and the amount of time each activity takes. Basically, it shows how MUCH work women do and how they are pretty much never not doing something!

Super pilas kids who each gave their own daily schedule PLUS what they guessed would be the girls’ daily schedule

Seasonal Calendar: This activity initially intimidated me, because we couldn’t quite figure out how to do it during training! But after some re-reading of the instructions and adaptation of the activity for schools, it ended up being really informative. I had participants make a calendar of their year-first writing the months or seasons of their year from what they consider the beginning to end of their year. After that, they were to list or draw the major activities, events and holidays that happen during their year. Then, they used different colored/shaped paper to indicate the busiest time of the year (large black circle), less busy or normal times, and least or not busy times of the year, as well as times of more resources and less resources.

Black circle-Most busy time of year; Green circle-regular/normal business; Pink circle-least busy time of the year

Brown square-time of more resources; Purple/Blue square-time of less resources

Look at that work of art!!

Students: While these lil patojos (kiddos) are hands down the most fun to work with, they are also the most time and energy consuming! But then they come up and present these beautiful works and you’re ready to adopt 10 of em! Because all these activities require serious critical thinking, it is vitally important to provide LOTS of visual examples, to explain clearly the instructions and to have another teacher or so to help further explain and check on groups individually. Try to give them time limits, cuz otherwise 3 hours later and they’ll be finishing a topographic map!

cool kids just crack me up!! i really liked their geometric take on the map, though!

I asked for models to show off the maps lol…

Teachers: They will provide you with the most polished and thorough information. The seasonal calendars they make are especially useful as they will basically list out what the school year schedule looks like. It is nice also to give them a chance to do what their kids have been doing. They end up getting more riled up bout it than the kids!

Parents: Although all the groups gave it their all, the parents by far took it the most seriously. Since so many of them never got to go or complete school, they really appreciate the opportunity to participate in activities like this. Also, as soon as I told them that I wanted to hear directly from them the needs and issues in the community, they felt charged with this great duty to fully inform me and they did so much detail and heart. Although, each group has its draw, I think I enjoyed working with the parents most. Because of the language barrier, I had the students of the parents co-facilitate the event with me-which worked out great! A couple of students translated-they prepared scripts and everything!, others prepared the example maps and materials, a few were greeters, and we even had a photographer/videographer! Without their help, none of it could have happened. It is amazing how responsible and creative and brave kids can be when you give them the chance to lead things…

After introducing myself and explaining the activity, I basically did nada, because these kids were SO amazing!!

Reviewing what was up next to explain and translate!