Day 327: Birthdee

"So Owl wrote...and this is what he wrote: HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY.  Pooh looked on admiringly.  'I'm just saying "A Happy Birthday",' said Owl carelessly."                                     - A. A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

Confession: I've never spent a birthday away from home before.  And given the whole Guatemalan Christmas fiasco, the idea of a birthday away from home, without the Wolski clan, was pretty unappealing.  Luckily, Guatemala and my friends here had decided to provide plenty of distraction opportunities.  There was a clubbing party in Antigua, a boat party on the lake, and a quieter brunch option to celebrate another volunteer's birthday.

There was also the fact that a good friend's house had recently been partially demolished by a landslide.  Allow me to sketch out the details a bit more.  My friend Mike, the owner of a delightful café in Panajachel and an actual legend, was rudely awoken at 3:15 am, June 13, by an 80-ton boulder smashing into his bedroom.  He and his wife miraculously survived with only a few scratches, despite the fact that said boulder a) weighed 80 tons, b) snapped their bed in half, and c) had just barreled down a mountainside, picking up speed and taking out trees at will.  The boulder came to rest in the bedroom, and their house was subsequently flooded with mud and rocks.

I don't think I've mentioned Mike in this blog before, but the fact is he's one of the reasons I didn't just give up on Guatemala and head home (during the Dark Ages).  I visit his café most weekends, and am always greeted with comforting words of wisdom, laughter, and superhuman kindness.

I was tempted to skip all potential birthday parties, and spend my birthday Saturday the way I spent most Saturdays: taking a beautiful hike along the lake, camping out in Mike's café for a while, eating tempeh stir-fry at my favorite restaurant, and slowly meandering home for pizza night (Posh Corps, I know).  It's not that I don't like the idea of birthday partying; it's more that these typical Saturday activities make me really happy, and seemed like a good way to spend my birthday.

But then I realized I could have a really special birthday if I thought a bit beyond my own happiness.  Mike and his wife needed help to rebuild their house, and a day of physical labor would do me good.  So I told Mike that I wanted to help him out on Saturday, I asked a few fellow volunteers to join me, and I set about making a master plan for the day.

The master plan went something like this: do not reveal that it is my birthday.  Sneakily buy large cake from Guatemalan bakery.  Spend morning working on Mike's house.  Return to Panajachel for birthday lunch at favorite restaurant.  Spend afternoon working on Mike's house.  Casually mention birthday and surprise everyone with delicious cake.  Return home for pizza night.

It was a perfect plan, and destined for success.  But Guatemala, and people as kind as Mike, have a way of surprising you.  When I rolled in to Mike's café on Saturday morning, he immediately launched into the happy birthday chorus.  He then treated my friends and I to his famous cheesecake.  After we worked on his house for a couple hours (shoveling rubble off the roof), he treated us to lunch (cheese!  artisan bread!  pickles!  birthday cake!  ice cream!).  We worked a little bit longer, and his wife brought us an afternoon snack.  Then one of my fellow volunteers opened a Tupperware of homemade cupcakes, and I continued stuffing my face.  Of note, all dining was accompanied by great conversation.  I think it was my best birthday yet.

The morals of this story:

• I have great fellow volunteers in Guatemala.  They were willing to give up relaxing lakeside dining/significantly less relaxing boat partying for a day of manual labor, because helping Mike meant so much to me (and because they also care deeply about Mike and his family).
• Sometimes when you try to help someone, they end up helping you more than you could have imagined.  Yes, I spent my birthday doing what I could for Mike, but I also know that I received so much more than I gave.
• You never have to buy yourself your own birthday cake (although you can if you want to, because who doesn't like more cake?).

And now, a quick note about Mike's house and the work that remains to be done: it turns out that clearing an 80-ton boulder out of your house is kind of expensive.  Some of my readers have asked how they can best support me in Guatemala, and although I hate asking people for money, I will say that it would mean a lot to me if you considered donating to the reparation fund.  You can read more about it (and see insane videos) here:

http://www.gofundme.com/robertsrebuild

As always, thanks for reading, and much love.

Day 320: Bhavana

"Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and to have her nonsense respected."                               - Charles Lamb

Just about a week ago, I headed to Antigua in a cloud of excitement and body odor.  The excitement stemmed from my friend Bhavana's coming visit; the body odor from the fact that my host family's shower had broken and I was officially on No Hygiene, Day Four.  I planned to check in to our Antigua hostel early, shower up, and fool Bhavana into thinking I was a very clean and healthy person.  I wasn't fast enough: by the time I emerged from the shower, Bhavana was waiting in the hostel's courtyard.  This led to a rather undignified, semi-naked reunion hug (which I actually highly recommend; it was very touching).

Before I launch into a recap of our hijinks, I have a little explaining to do.  Being a Peace Corps Volunteer obviously entails moving far away from your friends and family.  And even though I miss my friends dearly, it's been hard for me to keep in touch with everyone the way I'd like.  This is largely due to lack of internet, scheduling conflicts, and other technical difficulties.  But it's also hard to keep in touch because our lives have diverged so completely.  It's hard for my friends to relate to some of my experiences in Guatemala (my nearly constant battles with fleas, for instance), and it can be difficult for me to hear about or relate to their lives in America (a simple comment about a recently sampled IPA can turn me into a jealous monster).

Most of all, it's hard not to compare experiences and turn judgmental.  I recognize that my friends' struggles in the US are real and difficult, but I also inadvertently compare their struggles to those I see here, and think, "Seriously?  You're upset that you have too much grad school work and are running low on sleep?  Most of the kids in my town struggle to graduate from middle school."  I know that comparing struggles is ridiculous.  There's no definitive or rational struggle scale, and even if there was, what good would it do to know who has a more difficult life?  The best we can do is empathize with each other, help each other when we can, and learn from each other's experiences.

This is easier said than done.  And so the opportunity to really show a friend what my life in Guatemala is like, in contrast to merely offering email or Skype descriptions, is uplifting.

It's especially uplifting when said friend is Bhavana, who was game for anything and everything Guatemalan.  We spent our week together sampling street food, braving evening rainstorms, and reminiscing about our work as medical scribes back home (I left the emergency department to join the Peace Corps; Bhavana left to go to medical school and be generally awesome/doctory).  We started our adventures in Antigua, that cobblestoned heart of Guatemalan charm.  Some highlights:

Climbing a mist-shrouded volcano

Enjoying beautiful views over Antigua

Meeting the owner of an artisanal ice creamery, who moonlights as a painter and "steamy crime novel" writer*

Stuffing our faces with non-Guatemalan fare*

We then made our way to Lake Atitlán, and my site.  We passed a memorable afternoon with the local middle school girls in the Safe Space, playing as many party games as we could think of after our planned soccer game was rained out.  Despite a lack of Spanish fluency, Bhavana was a superstar at both Charades and Telephone.  The Guatemalans all expressed deep regret that she would not be a permanent fixture of our Safe Space sessions.

Before heading down to the lake proper, Bhavana and I got to enjoy a meal at the local comedor, a visit to the bustling Sololá market, and, most importantly, a van ride with the hot ayudante (Bhavana informed me that I have a bad case of Guate Goggles, but reassured me that he does have very nice eyes).*

We spent our last hours hiking around the lake, and exploring the lake town of Panajachel.

Check out dat walking route

It was hard to say goodbye to Bhavana, but I'm so glad she came to visit.  It was great to see her and catch up with her in person.  And it was deeply moving to share a slice of Guatemala with a friend from home.  If any of you lovely readers feel like dropping by, just say when.  I'll pick you up at the airport.

*Sadly, no photographic evidence of these exploits exists.

Day 307: Gender Matters

“In the nineteenth century, the central moral challenge was slavery. In the twentieth century, it was the battle against totalitarianism. We believe that in this century the paramount moral challenge will be the struggle for gender equality around the world.” - Nicholas D. Kristof, Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide

I've been trying to offer weekly educational sessions to my health educators for some time, at the request of my two health center bosses. Unfortunately, every time we schedule a session, we end up canceling at the last minute, due to a training in another town, or an unexpectedly long day of house visits, or an event that I have to attend at the Peace Corps office. The stars simply haven't aligned, and I'm learning to be okay with that.

This week, something magical must have been going on in the cosmos, because I led my first ever lesson (or charla) with the CAP educators. My CAP bosses left charla topics up to my discretion, and, being kind of obsessed with feminism and gender discussion, I decided to start with a session on gender equality and gender equity. I believe this topic to be especially important in Guatemala, where women are just generally less valued than men. Girls often need more encouragement than boys to express themselves, and more help than boys to stay in school.

I started with a simple story to illustrate the difference between treating people equally and treating people equitably. I thought this went over well, until I asked the staff members for examples of how they treat people with equality or equity in their own lives. The ambulance driver said, "Well, I'm the only one who can drive the ambulance, so that's equity." Wait. What?

I rehashed the whole equity/equality thing, and then moved on to an examination of gender roles in the community. At first, the educators argued that neither men nor women in San José Chacayá face any limitations due to their gender. They said that women can drink, and men can do dishes, and all is equal. I asked them, "But don't men here get negatively judged if they help with housework? And doesn't the same go for women drinking? I've certainly never seen a woman in the local bar." They all stared at me for a few seconds, before conceding that, yeah, there is a lot of judgment around inverted gender roles.

I ended the charla by asking the staff what topics they want to learn about in the future. The responses ranged from racism to "how to have more respect for old people" to self-esteem to "I want to learn about mental health because I have a friend who only talks about sex and I want her to reflect so that she can have a clean mind." So, might save that one for a little later.

After this semi-successful and hopefully thought-provoking lesson with my educators, I got to lead a gender discussion with fellow volunteers, at our monthly Peace Corps Guatemala Gender Equality and Women's Empowerment Committee Book Club, Sololá Chapter (or, as I like to call it, PCGGEWECBCSC). The other participating volunteers and I spent a most enthralling hour discussing our latest read, Remaking Manhood by Mark Greene. I don't really want to use my blog as a place to plug or dis books, so let me instead say that the role of men in the feminist movement is particularly salient in Guatemala. For gender relations to really improve here, men need to both recognize women's worth and fight for women. We ladies are strong and capable, but we can't make lasting change without the support of our male compatriots.

And so, in closing, I leave you with the words of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, another PCGGEWECBCSC author (whose book Americanah I will actually totally plug: you should read Americanah): “Culture does not make people. People make culture. If it is true that the full humanity of women is not our culture, then we can and must make it our culture.”

Boys should use purses, because they're damn useful.
And, girls should wear ties, because they're damn sexy.

Day 304: Siempre Mejorando

"Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything."                                                                                                                                 - George Bernard Shaw

After my parents left (and I ate a slice of sadness cheesecake and about six chocolate bars, no joke), I decided that I needed an attitude adjustment.  I was tired of feeling sad, and even though I'm not fully in agreement with the adage that "happiness is a choice," I felt like I was directly responsible for a lot of my recent unhappiness.  I had gotten bogged down in a cycle of negativity and frustration.  I resolved to dedicate more mental energy to feeling happy, and to spend more time on the activities that make me happy, however small they may be (going out of my way to eat a delicious mango every day is a perfectly valid use of my time).

As luck would have it, the day after my parents' departure was the day of my first Peace Corps site visit.  In other words, my boss was coming to town.  I felt slightly intimidated by this prospect: how would she react upon learning that I have accomplished NOTHING?!  (This is an exaggeration--I have accomplished several important things in San José Chacayá.  But the pace of life here, combined with the struggles particular to my health center, means that I have not accomplished all I had hoped.)

My boss was patient as I explained my frustrations and disappointments.  The head of the Área de Salud (sort of the equivalent of a state's surgeon general, minus the medical degree) was also present, and suggested that I share my feelings with my CAP bosses.  This made me very nervous--how do you tell someone, "Your employees don't really do anything, which makes it hard for me to work with them" in a polite way?  But with both my Peace Corps boss and the head of the Área de Salud present, I took a deep breath and tried to phrase my thoughts in the most diplomatic way possible.  What came out was something along these lines:

"Everyone at this health center is a great person, and I really like all of you.  I'm really so happy to be here.  But I feel frustrated by the lack of enthusiasm for health work.  I understand it--the health educators rarely get paid, and many of them are likely to lose their jobs at the end of this year when a new political party assumes power.  I totally get why they don't want to go above and beyond their basic duties.  But this makes it really hard for me to work here."

I also threw in a lot of "fíjese que"'s, which is Guatemalan for "I am going to say something that may come off as offensive, but I am really just trying to be honest and you shouldn't feel offended."  We should probably come up with something similar in English (other than "no offense," which, let's be real, is the WORST).

Anyway, both my Peace Corps boss and the head of the Área de Salud later congratulated me for a perfect Guatemalan confrontation (thank you, Haverford College Quakerness, for training me in the ways of healthy confrontation!).  This felt like a major cultural breakthrough for me; it made me realize that I can assert myself here, albeit in a very roundabout and carefully phrased way.

The head of the Área de Salud also suggested that I present the findings from my district health diagnostic (completed in December) to the entire CAP staff, and then come up with a year-long plan of action as a team.  This may seem like a pretty obvious next step, but I honestly hadn't even considered it.  I had previously presented my findings to my two CAP bosses, who basically told me that I had great ideas for projects, but that I would have to implement said ideas alone.  Maybe this reaction made me feel too depressed to consider a different approach, or maybe I just have Guatemala brain (similar to pregnancy brain, minus the whole fetus thing).  In any case, my CAP bosses were excited about the prospect of coming up with a CAP-wide plan of action.  This gave me hope.

I spent the next week actively seeking happiness in tiny things (see mango comment above), and throwing myself into my work with new vigor.  My third Training of Trainers session went off without a hitch (well, almost.  I was tasked with demonstrating a really bad lesson, to provide examples of what not to do.  After explaining that the following lesson was a dramatization, I proceeded to snap at the participants, answer my phone, lecture in a very boring and overly technical way, and just generally be a jerk.  It was actually somewhat therapeutic, and pretty funny.  Or, it was funny until the end of the day, when we asked for participant feedback.  A lot of the Guatemalans seem to have missed the whole dramatization announcement, as they complained that "Ana is really mean and gives bad lessons."  Cool, guys).  I had a really productive meeting with my site mate, Laura, and my health educators to plan further Safe Space sessions.  And I had a riotous Kaqchikel class with the coolest Mayan language teacher in Guatemala (new favorite word: muxux'aj, which means belly button).  Things are looking up.

And now, dear reader, a note to you about the coming week: I know that I have been really bad about blogging this summer.  I really do appreciate you reading this, and in an attempt to provide more updates in less time, I'll be adding a series of mini-posts, one per day, starting tomorrow, until I am finally caught up to real life.  As always, thanks for reading.