June 14

I had a very adventurous weekend. Friday was my friend Amanda's birthday, and I was excited to go to the party she was hosting at her house. The only problem was getting there. Amanda lives in the same department as me as well the majority of the volunteers from my training class (for security reasons I can't give the specific names) but, frustratingly, there is no bus service between my site and the rest of the department. Instead, I need to take a long, indirect circle through 2 other departments in order to visit my friends. So what's probably only a 30 mile trip as the crow flies ends up taking about 4 hours, 4 separate buses, and over half of my daily living allowance in bus fare. Instead of doing this trip as I've done in previous visits, I had the idea to ride my bicycle to the party. The mountain bike, with a sturdy frame, shock absorbers, thick tires, 27 speeds (all of which even work), and most importantly (as I would later discover), well functioning brakes, was certainly up for the job. I talked with a few people about the idea and got different recommendations. Some thought it was a great idea, while others warned me that I could get robbed, or lost, or hurt in an accident. Looking at the map and topography on google Earth, I realized that there were several opportunities to take wrong turns and end up in the middle of nowhere, but my days biking across the U.S. in college taught me that you can always find your way by asking directions.

So Friday morning just before 7a.m. (I wanted to get an early start to beat the sun) I set out down the dirt road towards my destination. The trip, as I knew beforehand, had lots of steep ups and downs. The uphills were challenging, and I was soon sweating in the cool early morning air. More difficult, however, were the descents. The steep pitch combined with dirt and sand over a hard rock face made skidding very difficult to avoid, and I had to constantly apply the brakes with care to avoid losing control. There were enormous potholes and mini-canyons everywhere, products of the erosion brought by the rains which began early last month. And to top it all off, the roads which wound precariously along the sides of the mountain, often bordered large cliffs descending into valleys or rivers far below. I had told me friends that if they didn't hear from me by noon to call the Peace Corps to come look for me, and I hoped I wouldn't end up flying out of control into the valley.

In the end the trip was exciting, challenging, beautiful, and a lot of fun. As I went up and down mountain after mountain, passing isolated houses with people working laboriously in their fields, the views of the surrounding landscapes and distant mountains were spectacular. Pine forests aren't normally what people think of when the imagine Central America, but they are all over the Guatemalan highlands, mixing with the occasional palm and orange trees, more classical images of a tropical climate.

After about an hour and a half on the road, I entered a village where kids were lining the main road on their way to school. The site of a gringo in funny clothes biking through apparently wasn't something they witnessed every day, and a few of the kids started running along side me. More and more kids began to join me until I quickly had several dozen pairs of little feet trying to keep up. I passed by some people walking in the other direction, who observed the scene with a mixture of surprise and amusement. As I got to the far end of town, I bade goodbye to the few out of breath kids who had managed to stick with me.

While I was a bit tired for the party, it was a lot of fun to catch up and hang out with my fellow Peace Corps friends. We sat out on Amanda's terrace and enjoyed the wonderful food and drinks she had prepared. I had brought some homemade bagels and a few other small gifts in my backpack, which Amanda enjoyed greatly. We heard there was some sort of party going on at the bus terminal, and headed over to check it out. When we arrived, a d.j. with huge speakers set up on the back of his pickup truck was blasting dance music. Unfortunately my energy was pretty much drained by that point, but it was still a lot of fun. After dancing for a while, we all headed back to Amanda's and went to sleep. The next morning most of us hung at Amanda's for the morning, relaxing and eating, and a few of us went into Xela (Guatemala's second largest city, about an hour bus ride) to see a movie and eat dinner in the mall food court.

The next morning I had a slightly more lazy start and finally got on the road about 9. I was a lot more relaxed since I already knew the route, and I was pleasantly surprised that there was a lot more downhill than ups on the return route. I would have probably done the whole trip in about 2 hours if I hadn't gotten confused and made a wrong turn at the very last fork before arriving home. After sweating up a particularly long and steep climb out of a river valley, I realized I didn't recognize the scenery. I asked some people standing outside their house if I was still on track, and was told that I had made a wrong turn. Frustrated, hot and tired, and almost out of water, I turned back, descended back all the way down to the river, and took the correct fork back up the other side of the valley. I arrived home and got a cold drink from the store next door, satisfied with my weekend adventure.

This week has been very tranquilo. Unfortunately, all public schools in Guatemala have been suspended for the next 2 weeks due to the threat of swine flu. As disappointing as it is that education is being watered down, it also leaves me with the dilemma of what to do with all the new free time. I was a bit worried at first, but have so far been enjoying the time to read, watch some DVDs on my laptop, and meet new people in my town. I taught my 4 host siblings how to play UNO, and they immediatly fell in love with it. Now, whenever they see me in the hallway the ask when we can play.

Yesterday morning I met up with Roberto bright and early at 6 a.m. to go running, and ended up doing the most challenging run of my life, and hour and 40 minutes. We ran to the top of a nearby mountain, about a 15 minute climb. When we got to the top, instead of turning around like we normally do, we decided to keep going down the other side. We ended up going another 15 minutes downhill, which of course we had to backtrack back up to get home. When I finally arrived at my door, my entire body ached, but especially my back, knees, and feet. I spent the rest of the day resting up, but it felt great to see how much my hard work training these last 5 months has paid off. I was still a bit sore this morning, but I still went on an easier 40 minute run over pretty flat terrain, which felt like just a warm-up by comparison. The half marathon in Coban is in less than 2 weeks, and I'm feeling pretty good about it.

This morning I had the time to spend a few hours in the market. Since the town is so small, Wednesdays are the only market day of the week, when the sleepy, laid back town becomes a crowded, bustling center of commerce, with people coming from various parts of the country to sell their goods out of the back of their pickup trucks, or in crowded make-shift stalls lining the streets. Everything from fresh produce, DVDs and CDs, to haircuts in the park are available. I normally work in the schools on Wednesdays, so I usually content myself with a rushed 15 minute run through to pick up my weekly vegetables and other basic items, before hopping on my bike to go to work. But today I was able to take my time, browsing and greeting people at a leisurely pace. I was happy to note that I am recognizing more and more faces in town, especially kids who I work with from the surrounding communities who come in with their parents. I normally ask them why they're not in school, but today was happy to just greet them and ask how they're enjoying their 'vacation'. It's always a nice feeling to hear 'Travis' shouted from across the market, even if 9 times out of 10 I don't remember the name of the kid shouting it.

I still continue struggling to appreciate the positive aspects of life here and remain optimistic despite the challenges—feelings of loneliness, isolation, boredom, and doubts as to whether I'll actually be able to accomplish anything here. Talking with my friends last weekend, hearing about how busy some of them were, going to meetings and doing projects with their schools, made me a bit self-conscious about my relative lack of business. I had to remind myself that I was the only one there in a new site (as opposed to replacing a previous volunteer), and as such would have to expect things to go slower. I don't mind the idea of Peace Corps life being difficult, but am terrified by the thought that it will end up not being worth the effort I have put in to be here. Despite the positive experiences I've had with people here, I'm still in a very different culture from my own, and have found making real friends harder than I'd imagined, much harder than my experience living in Argentina for half a year, where I easily made friends with the middle-class University students I found lots in common with. Here, during my low points, tossing and turning in bed at night trying to get to sleep, I sometimes ask myself what I am doing here, what I hope to accomplish. I think of my friends, enjoying their youth, spending time with friends and families, establishing careers; in short, building lives, while I am stuck here by myself for the next 2 years without even knowing what I'll have to show for my efforts.

Nonetheless, looking back at the last almost 3 months I have spent here, I have to believe I have accomplished something. The smile and greeting from kids when they see me in town has to mean something. I've been beating kids over the head with hand-washing for the last 6 weeks (not literally of course)--stories, games, songs, and other interactive activities, and moved on last week to teeth brushing. While I still see kids with grimy hands, it does seem like habits are beginning to change in both kids and teachers.

I have started opening my door and sitting out on my front stoop more often. The flow of people walking by is pretty interesting, and gives me the opportunity to show my face more, which is what I really need to do to fit in more. I continue having periods of ups and downs, but now, on this rainy Wednesday afternoon in late June, I'm having a nice day.

June 25th

School continues to be canceled because of the H1N1 virus, and I've actually been enjoying the time off more than I'd expected. Last week was the 'feria', the festival held by all towns and cities and Guatemala once per year, in one of the nearby 'cantones', or small villages. I enjoyed watching the celebration and meeting new people from the area. The first afternoon, a school marching band from a nearby city was bussed in—the site of adolescents, dressed in stupid uniforms, marching in formation while blowing out of tune songs at the top of their lungs brought back painful memories of my own days in marching band. I enjoyed watching them march until someone brought me to the front of the band and put a lit torch in my hand. Gaspar, an older man who was the other torch bearer, became my new friend and guide, telling me where to go when we arrived at the celebration. I didn't know exactly what the torch was for until I saw what looked like a mini Eiffel tower covered with fireworks. I've learned that many Guatemalans are pretty much pyromaniacs when it comes to fireworks, and the Feria was no exception. The torch, I realized, was to light the enormous array. I normally try to keep clear of fireworks, which are of dubious quality, but couldn't back out of my duty. After a speech by my landlord Juan Fermin, Gaspar and I lit the fuse and quickly backed away with plenty of time to find a safe place to watch the show, which was quite loud and impressive. There were several other pyrotechnic events that followed, the most interesting of which was the 'Torro', or 'Bull'--a man with a wooden bull costume on, running around a field while covered with fireworks going off the entire time. A second guy with a red cloth taunts the 'bull', avoiding not just the horns but also the rockets shooting off unpredictably. Soon, however, other spectators got in on what soon became a Guatemalan version of the running of the bull. Of course a bunch of kids, parents nowhere to be seen, were running around the field, chasing the bull. The bull would also run past the crowd, startling people who weren't paying attention with various lit objects flying past their heads. At one point the bull got near the stage and a rocket shot up to it, bouncing off the back wall, still lit, right into a group of people. Nobody was hurt, and I just shook my head and laughed with a mixture of concern and amusement at the ridiculousness of the situation. The following days activities included people climbing a large tree trunk, stripped like a telephone pole and anchored to the ground, and jumping from the top tied with ropes and dancing their way to the ground. In the afternoon a marimba band (a wooden xylophone, Guatemala's national instrument) played for several hours, while women in masks danced along in unison and a few drunks staggered around alongside. The whole weekend was a memorable experience, but the best part was definitely mingling with the community, greeting friends and making several new ones.

Last weekend I met up with fellow PCV Katie and traveled to Nebaj, a beautiful large town/small city high in the mountainous highlands, the highest mountain chain in Central America. We planned to do a hike, without having made any specific plans. After getting a bit of information from a trekking agency, we headed out on a 2 day, 20+ mile stroll. Since we both speak fluent Spanish and didn't have the money to hire a guide, we decided to do the hike solo. We soon discovered that Ixil, the local Mayan language, dominated the area and people spoke only limited Spanish, but we were able to get by without too many problems. The mountains were taller and steeper than I imagined, but the trek was well worth it. The only minor problem we had was when, at the top of a high mountain in the late afternoon, a cloud rolled over us, reducing visibility to under a hundred feet and bringing a steady cold rain. To complicate matters further, we suddenly came to a fork in the road, with no indication of which way lead to our destination and nobody to ask. We had no other option but to pick a fork and start walking, until we came across two men walking the other way who informed us we were going the wrong way. We thanked them, walked back to the fork and went the correct way, losing about half an hour in the process.

Tourism is only marginally developed in the area, and the remote villages we passed through were definitely the poorest I've seen yet in Guatemala. We passed by many wooden, often single room houses with dirt floors and smoke from open cooking fires wafting from the ceiling (respiratory illnesses caused by smoke inhalation are one of the leading causes of child mortality in the country, and not cooking over open fires is one of the issues I address in my work here). Most of the area seemed to at least have electricity, but a few of the villages didn't have access to roads. We spent the night in a small dormitory built by the community for passing trekkers. We were the only foreigners we saw the whole 2 days, and it seemed like the dorms weren't used that frequently. We ate our meals in the homes of local families, which provided me the opportunity to experience the living conditions of rural Guatemalan families in a way that I realized until now I hadn't yet had a chance to see first hand.

My mom got married last Tuesday night back in Connecticut. I was sorry not to be able to attend in persson, but was able to watch the ceremony live via an internet broadcast. It was great to see how happy my mom and her new husband Jerry were. CONGRATULATIONS MOM AND JERRY!!!

The rest of the week I've been hanging out in town, not doing too much. I was able to spend more time walking around and mingling on market day, and always enjoy greeting the kids I work with, especially when they're not playing hooky in the process.

I've been in site almost 3 whole months, and arrived in Guatemala almost 6 months ago! I'm finally starting to feel more integrated into my community and feel like I am making more real friends, as opposed to friendly acquaintances. I'm headed out tomorrow to visit my host family in Xenacoj, en route to Coban for the half-marathon. I've been training for over 5 months and can't wait to see how I do! I'm also excited to meet up with several friends and spend a few days exploring the area before going to a Peace Corps conference later in the week, leading up to the 4^th of July bash next weekend.

A few pictures from the cross-dressing welcome party for the new volunteers at Lake Atitlan last weekend. No words needed :)

MOSCAS EN LA CASA

I've had kind of a tough past few days. The other morning I went running with Roberto, the teacher at one of my schools who I've gone running with a few times. The problem was that Roberto had to be at work early and could only go out at the ludicrous hour of...5 AM! I knew I should have just said thanks but lets do it another time, but sure enough I found myself running in the nearly pitch black, trying to keep up with Roberto, when what else but a fine mist of cold rain should start coming down. Well, long story short the next day I felt myself starting to get sick, and spent the next 2 days at home with a fever, aches, and stuffy nose. Sitting cooped up in my house feeling like crap wasn't the best thing for my outlook on life, and I had lots of time to mull over things and get myself worked up. What's worse, to my horror I realized I was getting a fly problem...more and more flies had begun invading my room. Apparently, now that rainy season has started, insects have begun invading everywhere. In addition to flies I've also noticed huge beetles crawling (and sometimes flying) around my room. But the flies are the worst. It started getting really annoying when they started landing on my face and waking me up in the morning.

Today I was finally feeling a bit better, and had decided to change things up by inviting Susy and Tony, 2 of my Peace Corps neighbors from (relatively) nearby towns, to brunch. I spent yesterday afternoon making homemade bagels—both sesame and cinnamon raisin—in my Peace Corps oven (it's really cool—a large lidded pot with a water-filled tuna can placed at the bottom and then put on a stovetop—the water in the can boils and the water vapor creates heat!!!) and this morning I baked a large loaf of banana bread—I was very proud! The only problem was that despite my efforts to get the flies to leave, the problem only seemed to be getting worse with more and more flies covering my walls. As hard as I tried, I could not squash even one. I had no idea what to do and was worried of what my friends would think when they arrived.

We had a really great time, and Tony and Susy stayed most of the afternoon. In addition to the bagels and bread, I made hashbrowns and french toast, and was highly complimented on my culinary creativity. The highlight of the afternoon was when the rain started coming down so hard that it created a virtual river outside my front door. Tony and Susy pointed out all the positive aspects of my house—how much natural light I get; how convenient and nice the view is of the wide front entrance; my nice private bathroom; the charming patio out back; and my host family with 4 cute kids. While I'd been becoming critical of my living situation, they're comments made me realize the good things and changed my attitude quite a bit.

The only problem were the flies. The black mass of bodies on my ceiling seemed to keep growing larger and larger, and I was embarrassed when they buzzed by my friends heads. I asked if they had any ideas. Tony recommended “MataMoscas” (literally, “KillsFlies”), basically a strip of really sticky tape which traps the flies when they land on it.

After I walked Susy and Tony back to the bus stop in the center of town, I stopped in a few stores until I found one that had MataMoscas in stock. I bought 4 strips to be sure I had enough for all the little buggers.

Back at my house, I found that the product (which was for some strange reason labeled entirely in German) was not as self explanatory as I'd expected. I asked Juan Fermin, my landlord/host dad to help out, and with his assistance as well as the moral support of the 4 kids who stood and watched, we hung the sticky strips from my ceiling. I didn't feel like waiting around, so I grabbed a broom and started sweeping the flies on the ceiling in the direction of the strips. Sure enough, a fly landed on it, its legs stuck fast and hard. Then another did the same. Then another. As I swung my broom gleefully around the room (anyone looking through the window would probably have thought I was possessed), more and more flies sealed their fate by landing on the strips of death. I could even hear their futile buzzing as they tried in vain to free themselves. I laughed with sadistic pleasure at the little creatures who had until recently seemed to take so much pleasure in tormenting me. Within a few hours nearly all of the flies and the room were stuck, dead or dying.

As an added bonus, Juan's help in hanging the MataMoscas revealed a solution to another problem I've been trying to solve for weeks, that of hanging pictures and posters on my wall. The problem is that however much I try to tape them, they always fall down off the slippery walls. The problem was really starting to irritate me (in the Peace Corps, little things can make you really happy or really piss you off). However, in showing my how to hang the MataMoscas Juan showed me a new technique of taping a large piece to the wall to create a base, and then using a second piece to attach what you want to hang. After I had my fill of sweeping flies to their death, I spent the next hour taping up a bunch of pictures, posters, and maps I've been dying to get up. As I write this, Juan is finally putting up the curtains to block the light on my windows which he's been promising to do for weeks. All my problems are solved!