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.
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| Check out dat walking route |
*Sadly, no photographic evidence of these exploits exists.
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