Day 1: Miami

"Almost everything strange washes up near Miami."     - Rick Riordan

Ok, so I'm not near the beach in Miami, and I don't actually have any sense of the Miamian culture, seeing as the other Peace Corps Volunteers and I are spending all our time today in an airport hotel, but my journey so far has been inarguably strange (and kind of wonderful).  After forcing myself out of bed and away from my cuddly puppy at 4:00 this morning, I found myself alone at the MSP airport, hauling more than my body weight in baggage and feeling rather tearful. My nerves were not calmed by the airline agent helping me check bags, who promptly took my boarding pass, allowed four people to cut me in line, and gave my boarding pass to one of these other travelers (he was at least nice enough to chase her down for me). I then had my wrists thoroughly examined by TSA agents, after the full body scanner revealed the presence of suspicious wrist matter.

Thoroughly assured that my wrists did not in fact contain weapons (unless you count the guns attached to them, kind of in the biceps area), I made my way to my gate, scarfed down the last bit of my dad's delicious cooking that I'll get to experience for a long while, and boarded my plane. The flight itself was delightfully uneventful, and I was soon touching down in Miami. It was time for the fabled Staging.

What is Staging, you ask?  The simplest way to describe it may be Peace Corps 101. It involves meeting all the volunteers traveling to Guatemala with me, discussing our various anxieties and aspirations regarding service, and learning more about the Peace Corps process in general. My training group consists of 28 people (six men and 22 women), all of whom are quite young (the oldest is 33).  I’m a little bummed that I won’t be befriending a retired hippie this trip, but I can cope.  On the plus side, one of the people in my training group is from Minnesota, and anyone who knows me knows how I love my Midwestern brethren.

A bit more explanation about the group: we’ll be undergoing training together in Guatemala for the next nine weeks, although I’ll train with some people a lot more than others.  More specifically, I’ll be training quite a bit with the other nine Maternal and Child Health volunteers (the other 18 trainees are Youth in Development volunteers), as well as with people who speak Spanish at the same (low) level as me.  After the nine weeks of training, we’ll disperse to separate communities throughout the Guatemalan highlands, with phones on which we can call each other fo free.  It is unlikely I will be living with or close to another volunteer.

Back to Staging: I won’t bore you with the details of our team-building exercises, but I will say that I was repeatedly struck by how kind, thoughtful, and funny all the other trainees were.  I was definitely worried that some of the trainees would be preachy, or overenthusiastic, or some other adjective I don’t like, and so finding out that this was not the case was very encouraging.  A less encouraging fact about my co-trainees is the high level of Spanish language skills they seem to possess.  Don’t get me wrong; this is great for the Peace Corps, and for the people of Guatemala.  But it definitely makes me worry a little bit about whether I’ll be the class dunce. The first two people I met were both native speakers, and a lot of other people studied abroad in Argentina, Costa Rica, Spain, etc. etc. etc.  My one-week spring break trip to Mexico pales in comparison.

But let’s return to encouraging signs—almost all of the trainees wanted to get dinner together, which to me showed enthusiasm and personability.  So we headed to a Cuban restaurant near the hotel (I was really stoked about this, because I kept imagining all the delicious Cuban food from the movie Chef).  Unfortunately, it turns out that Cubans really like their meat.  The corn stew I ordered was chock-full of unidentifiable meaty lumps, and I had to send it back (I know, I know, I’ve become that vegetarian…but it’s been so long since eating meat that I’m afraid it would now make me sick).  I was then able to thrive off of side dishes, including rice and beans, fried yuca, and plantains, all of which were delicious.

After a quick dash to the local gas station to obtain super healthy breakfast food (by which I mean Poptarts), it was bedtime for Bonzo.  I had thought that our 12:30 pm flight meant that we would be able to sleep in, but alas, we were leaving for the airport at 7:30 am (from an airport hotel no more than five minutes from the airport, mind you).  I’m not sure if the excess travel time is just the Peace Corps being cautious, or if they have some additional airport activities planned (?).  In any case, hasta luego.