Exit Survey

Name: Barbara Elizabeth Veres

Site: Santa Cruz Comitancillo, San Marcos

Sector: Agriculture

Nicknames: Ana Bárbara, Qué Bárbara, Barbita, Barbarita, la hija más canchita de doña Isa y las mujeres artesanas, Vereẍ

Biggest accomplishment: Surviving.

Biggest disappointment: Hearing excuse after excuse of why they couldn't do something from the very people who wanted change.

Biggest regret: Regret? ¿Qué es eso?

Biggest fear during Peace Corps: Getting held up on a bus... ha. I kind of outdid myself on that one.

Defining Peace Corps moment: Two of the many others I could list here are:

1) In my third month as a PCV, January 2009, I didn't have water for the entire month due to the pipelines being dug up in town, so leave it to Murphy's Law to give me food poisoning at that same time. Streams of any hydration that was left in my body were projected out uncontrollably from both ends simultaneously, and I had nothing to flush with. I told myself if I could make it through that, I could make it through anything.

2) After spending two weeks in front of la compu with my grade six educated counterpart, Isa, who had never touched a computer before, I called her from the Peace Corps office to ask her a question.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Oh, just here in the office practicing on la compu," she timidly, but proudly responded.

I was glowing. Did I understand her correctly? Just days before she was still skittish about turning it on, even with me by her side. Did I actually do something sustainable? I think so. Púchica.

Things you will miss most: The gorgeous view from my country house, my house, the kids from my street, being part of a community, morning sunshine and afternoon rains, mountains, avocadoes, my lime tree, my ladies, most of the people in my office, el Rincón de la Yaya and the owners and teaching them how to make real cappuccinos, walking to get from point A to point B (as opposed to walking for the sake of walking), going out for a walk to "la gruta," Bobby, cheap and great comedor meals, ease of mobility and cheap travel, people's genuine hospitality of giving what little they have, riding in the back of 'picops', riding on top of buses (whoops), using fíjese que to start off a lame excuse, phenomenal free health care, the list goes on...

Things you will miss least: Being woken up at 2am, 3am, 4am, etc. by dogs barking or 'music' blasting, cocks crowing, engines revving, bus horns honking, people throwing their trash on the ground, the crowds of Sunday market days, hearing fíjese que... right before the start of a meeting after hiking 1.5 hours to get there, calling my boss to get an "ok" to leave for a weekend, people asking me why I drink so much water and if it's really healthy, watching my ladies aguantar unwanted pregnancy after unwanted pregnancy...

Biggest Irony: Being absolutely fine with and at times preferring the vegetarian option over a hunk of flesh in Guatemala.

Worst illness: Diarrhea becoming a normalcy for the last eight months of my service.

Biggest freak-out: Let me think... oh yeah, getting abducted in a taxi with Carolyn in Managua.

Strangest chisme you heard about yourself: I was a spy for the CIA, my site mate, Charlie, and I were either novios or maridos.

Most useful things I brought: Non-stick frying pan, speakers for my MP3 player which got my through training, my computer.

Least useful thing I brought: Solar power backpack... I was prepared to be placed in the most remote of places.

Favorite activity when bored: Walking around town to chit-chat with people.

Weirdest thing I did when bored: When watching my site mate's pooch, Amalia, she always seemed to be in heat, and thus the chuchos would alway await their Juliet below my balcony at my first house. There would be at least five of them whining and fighting with one another to get their beloved Amalia, so I'd take a pitcher of water and dump it on them from above. Kept me entertained.

Favorite Guatemaltequismo: ¡A la grán hijo le..!

Greatest lie I told at my site: My father is a mining engineer. Yeah...

Favorite Guatemalan inquiry: How many kids do I have? Did my husband give me permission to come to Guatemala? Well, why am I not married?!

Best Guatemalan gesture: The simultaneous wrist flip/ chin-up / lip point.

Favorite CD/song during service: NOW! That's What I Call Camioneta Music Vol. I

Song I would be content to never hear again: Any ranchera.

Favorite book(s) during service: Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight - Alexandra Fuller

Favorite Guatemalan fashion: Men unknowingly wearing t-shirts with prints such as "Is that your belly button or are you just happy to see me?", "I'm a beer chick," "Alpha Kappa Sigma Sorority 2004," "Proud Girl Scout," "Why am I so thirsty if I drank so much last night?", "Get down with brown: vote Sanjay for Student Council Treasurer" and older women wearing shirts such as "^ The Man v The Legend," "Play Boy Bunny 1998," "HEY! I've got big boobies!"

Worst jalón: The one where I almost dislocated my tailbone.

Best bus ride: Tacana- dangerous as hell, but it was the quickest one from San Marcos to the capital.

Worst bus ride: All the other ones.

Favorite food: Somehow eggs and beans with chirmol never got old... I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Worst thing I ate: Liver... I'm getting nauseous just thinking about it.

Worst thing I smelled: The latrine which was almost overflowing with human waste.

Stupidest thing I did in the last two years: Accidentally didn't turn off my gas stove properly and woke up with a killer headache and an empty take of gas. Oy.

Untrue fact told to you as undeniable truth: “Fíjese que es prohibido por Cuerpo de Paz” - for pretty much anything I didn't want to do.

You know you’ve been in Guatemala too long when…: You know it will be a good day when you have taken a shower without 1) the water pressure lowering to keep the water warm 2) getting any sparks above your head from aforementioned water heater 3) the water doesn't switch off just as you've lathered your head full of shampoo.

I never thought I would…: Discuss my bowel movements so openly and in such vivid detail and come to agreements with other people of what illnesses we might have based discussed details.

When I grow up I want to be…: Full-time corporate slave, part-time yogi and philanthropist, retire at the age of 42.4 with 2.39 children and a husband living somewhere in the European countryside and / or seaside in our summer home with our two rescue dogs, with adventure holidays. Or just figuring out the next step would be nice.

If I had to do it all over again I…: No questions asked.

Favorite Aralen dream: The first time I had a psychedelic dream was after hearing about them, but still not actually having taken Aralen, ha.

Favorite Ropa Americana T-shirt: A guy walking around with a "I don't get drunk, I get awesome" shirt.

Favorite animal story: My favorite chucho, Bobby, was actually my landlord's dog that they never really took care of. Bobby would always befriend the gringos in town and follow us around everywhere- he's accompanied PCVs to Taltimiche, Chicajalaj, Los Bujes, Quexlemuj, and other far off places (up to 2 hours one way) just to tag along. Mid-way through my service, he started following me to the office in town and would sit through the treacherous 9-6 monthly meetings. Sometimes he didn't come with me to the office, and as I was sitting with Isa working on something I would hear a pitter-patter outside, see his head poke through the door and be overjoyed with excitement when he found me with something like, "Hey, there you are! I've been looking all over for you," look. Best chucho, hands down.

Best habit acquired: Patience, not being so serious.

Worst habit acquired: Ch-ch-ing people to get their attention, arriving late to meetings because I knew I'd be waiting around anyway.

Thing you missed most from the US (and I'll add Europe): Family, friends, anonymity, red wine, good food, stimulating and intellectual conversation, live music, yoga, spontaneous meet-ups with friends for a coffee or drink.

Thing you missed least from the US: People being so caught up in their own lives that they have absolutely no idea what is going on around them, people thinking they're "special," materialism, media, fakeness.

Favorite location in Guatemala: My site... I wish I would have figured this out earlier on in my service, c'est la vie.

Things you’d wish you had known when you signed up: I'd be back in Buffalo before I knew it. :-P

Best advice for the next group: If you can't be good, be safe.

Good-Bye, Guatemala

This has been one of the most difficult decisions of my life. After deciding to stay in Nicaragua, I told myself I would return to Guatemala to get a realistic look at what my situation would be like upon my return.

Arriving back in Guatemala, I felt right at home again. Guatemala has become my home over these past two years. I spent the first few days back in country at the Peace Corps center, and then decided to head back to site for a few days to get a feel for what it would be like to be back in town, as well as to see how traveling by myself would be.

Unfortunately traveling, especially by myself, is no longer enjoyable- bearable at best. My staying in Guatemala would involve a number of things, and one of those things would be traveling to Guatemala City twice a month or more for medical appointments (have you ever not slept for four weeks?). That traveling would involve an eighteen hour round trip (think Buffalo to Boston, except in an over-crowded school bus swerving through the mountains), a two night stay, three missed days of work, anxiety up the wazoo- all for a one hour session.

After a careful cost:benefit analysis, it just didn't seem to make sense. It's like an awful catch-22: in order to get the medical care that is available to me to overcome my anxiety of traveling, I would need to make a solo eighteen hour round trip twice or more a month. Perhaps it would be a good way to test out my resiliency to travel, but at what cost? Knowing the safety situation of Guatemalan transportation and my luck, it seems like a risk too great to take all at once. Coming back to dire straits at work made me question things over and over again, and as you can imagine, wasn't exactly on the list of positive things going on in my life.

"Surprised." That is the response I have gotten from many people, but especially myself. Am I really doing this? I have been disgustingly critical with myself since I made this decision. It was never in my plans to finish up early. I thought I was tough- until my site mate's 11.5 oz. kitten gave me such a fright that I had to sit down for ten minutes. Not so much.

Serving as a Peace Corps volunteer has been the most rewarding and humbling experience I have had. So many people have opened their homes to me over the past two years- and I can't help but feel that I am breaking off a relationship I know I will never have again. Though it is in my tentative plans to come back and visit at some point in time, it will never be the same as it has been. Knowing that it is the right decision doesn't make it any easier to follow through with it.

Thank you for giving me an extraordinary two years, Guatemala.

The Nica-side of Life

It's pretty cool to think that Carolyn and I have never lived too close to one another, but have still maintained a strong friendship based on visits and common travel adventures to ten countries, including our Peace Corps time that just so happened to begin within three weeks of each other's- with a geographical distance that is not too much further than our geographical distance was back in the states (of course you're looking at an eight hour leisurely drive through the Adirondacks in the great state of New York versus a grueling eighteen hour bus ride through three Central American border crossings). Ok, I promise not to make grotesque paragraph-length sentences from hereon in.

After spending a few days kicking it back on the beach with my two friends Robin and Marisha, I headed to my next destination: Nicaragua, to get a mere peek into what has been Carolyn's Nicaraguan life for almost two years.

After arriving almost three hours late from Tegucigalpa and spending the night in an over-priced (but Peace Corps-approved) hotel, I was happy to finally see a familiar face after two rancid days of solo travel on a boat and buses. Carolyn had been waiting at the bus station for about two hours, since I was still able to text her to let her know I would be arriving a little late (originally just one hour, and of course leave it to Murphy's Law to have me arrive even later and not be able to text her since I no longer had service once we entered Nicaragua).

We spent the next day in the Peace Corps office in Managua for Carolyn to run some errands, and to kill the rest of the day, we had a very fachenta (fancy) lunch at a nice vegetarian restaurant, did a little bit of shopping in the near-by shopping center (ok, mainly just Carrión, which I have fallen in love with- taste at an affordable price) and even watched a movie in English, Kick-Ass, which, despite having Nicholas Cage in it, was surprisingly good. Posh Corps, anyone? Although that was my first impression of Nicaragua, it was not surprising in the least bit to see the wealth of a capital city in a developing country. Sometimes you feel like you're in a developed country until you see a cow in someone's front yard, which could be just a block or two away from a shopping center nicer than I have ever seen in the states or even Europe.

After those "unique" experiences, Carolyn and I had a visit to the hospital... but no fear- this time it was not for me (seriously- no joke). Just a regular appointment, and then we left back to our hotel and the next morning we finally started our trip: first stop, to visit Carolyn's host family from training, and then spend the night in the city of Masaya, a small city known for its artisan crafts.

Unfortunately we got as far as the micro bus stop until we were left in the middle of nowhere after our "incident." I won't lie- my initial reaction was to return back to the US the following week. Carolyn and I both reacted very differently to the situation. Her "fight or flight" instinct kicked in, and after being unable to get out of the car, she tried fighting back, and I somehow remained calm... but it wasn't until after the incident that I "lost it" after arriving back to the Peace Corps office. I obviously made the decision to stay in Nicaragua, which is the best thing I could have done. I didn't want that to be my sole experience and memory of Nicaragua, because that would have just been stupid. Bad things happen everywhere- some places more than others, and if anything, this experience taught the both of us to trust our gut instincts, and that some people are just plain manipulative assholes- but it shouldn't ruin what could be a wonderful experience with a wonderful friend.

We spent the next few days in Managua, mainly at the Peace Corps office. We had some useless trips to the police office, only to have them tell us that they would not be able to meet us again until Wednesday, since Monday was a revolutionary holiday, and Tuesday was a rest day from the holiday on Monday. Not surprising. We decided to get out of the city and go to Carolyn's town, about a four hour bus ride from Managua.

We spent the next four days in her town relaxing, processing everything that had happened and just tried to keep ourselves busy by meeting her friends, teachers that she works with, and of course her Nicaraguan boyfriend, Norvin. I really enjoyed spending time there, not only because it gave us a safe atmosphere to relax and unwind in, but also because it has been where Carolyn has been tirelessly working for almost two years with teachers in many different schools to try to alter the way people think about the environment. As an Environmental Education volunteer, Carolyn has worked with non-stop enthusiasm to train teachers to teach more of an environment-based curricula in the classroom, and of course trying to make it fun for the students and why it matters.

It was very apparent in the concern expressed and hospitality shown by Carolyn's colleagues that she has built close relationships with them during her time in site- earning confianza, or trust, is a vital tool to get things going in Latin America (would you want to work with someone that you didn't really trust?), and beyond building confianza, Carolyn has also built strong friendships with her teachers.

On Wednesday morning we headed back to the Peace Corps office in Managua- neither of us slept very well that night, but luckily we didn't have any problems, as we were now being extra cautious with everything. We had originally went in to Managua to continue with the police report, but unsurprisingly, the investigator who was handling our case was not ready.

Instead of waiting around for more disappointment, we decided to try out our plan once again- and so we headed to Carolyn's training town and spent the afternoon with her awesome host family. She had spoke so much to me about them, and how she really feels that they are her second family, and after spending just an afternoon with them, I could easily see why. If Olympic-style seed-spitting as a recreational activity with her host brothers doesn't count for cultural and family integration, I don't know what does.

During my visit, my mom called and we spoke for a few minutes. Afterwards, Carolyn told me that she had told her host family that I was speaking in Hungarian to my mom, and her host grandmother said that she could understand some of what I was saying....... say whaaaaaaaaa?! It turns out that Carolyn's host grandmother had worked for a Hungarian family in Managua back in the 1930s and had learnt some Hungarian from them. I have traveled to nearly thirty countries and have met at least one Hungarian in almost every country- not an easy feat. Her host grandmother may have not been Hungarian, but hey... that was far much cooler than actually meeting just a regular old Hungarian (although they can pretty cool as well).

After a wonderful afternoon with her host family, it was hard to leave their endless hospitality after spending such a good afternoon with them, but Masaya awaited us. We arrived there after a thirty minute bus ride and easily found our hostel and went out for a cheap, but delicious meal of gallo pinto (red beans and rice), tacos and some other goodies. The next day we took a short trip to the artisan market where we made rounds and I picked up some pretty cool artisan pieces without going overboard (not as easy as it may sound). That afternoon we headed to Leon- through Managua- but we managed to get a bus that took us directly to the bus station that left to Leon, so we avoided having to taxi through Managua, easing our anxiety and stress.

After arriving in Leon, we set out to find the volcano boarding place we had heard so much about, only to find out that it had been booked out for the next day. I didn't feel overly disappointed at first, as I wasn't sure if uncontrollably hurling myself down an active volcano was what I needed in a time of uneasiness and anxiety. Well, it turned out to be exactly what we both needed, because we ended up finding a smaller, non-profit organization, Quetzaltrekkers, (originally based out of Guatemala, but now with a location and tours from Leon, Nicaragua), which I highly recommend for anyone who wants their hike money donated to local kids.

During the hour-long truck ride to the base of Cerro Negro, the active volcano we were to climb, we overheard the guy sitting next to me talking about being an editor for Survivor: Nicaragua that was being filmed in San Juan del Sur, one of Nicaragua's finest tourist venues. Carolyn had already been bashing it the night before, and continued to do so until two other guys, who had been intently listening, mentioned that they were producers for the show. That shut Carolyn up for the rest of hike. ;-)

Little did they know that we did in fact have very tough nuts...

A walk down into the crater.

Volcano boarding was nothing short of exactly what I needed. It really comes to show that being physically active reduces stress and anxiety in ways I never understood before now, and it was a good self-esteem booster in terms of getting ourselves out there and not locking ourselves in our hotel room for the remainder of our vacation, not to mention it was effing incredible- so incredible that we hurled ourselves down twice.

Despite having an awful situation just days after my arrival, I could not be happier that I decided to stay and enjoy Nicaragua and get to know some important and wonderful people who have been such a big part of Carolyn's life. I would also like to thank the Peace Corps Nicaragua staff for being extremely supportive and helpful, especially to another volunteer from a different country. It really put things into perspective in terms of how supportive Peace Corps is, no matter where you are (so long as you are a PCV visiting in the states or another Peace Corps country :-) ).

If you are interested in visiting Nicaragua, doing it with Carolyn is pretty much impossible at this point, since I took up the last of her vacation- but our experience in Managua should in no way deter anyone from visiting. Nicaraguans are extremely hospitable and wonderful people, but just like anywhere, always have your guard up- even at home, where we often feel a false sense of comfort, that nothing can happen to us.

We are both still healing, but it would take a lot more than this to stop the two of us from traveling, doing what we love... and hurling ourselves down active volcanoes.

Express Kidnapping

Having twenty-one days of annual leave left before my completion of service (COS), I decided to do a bit of traveling around Central America. My first week was planned and spent on Bay Islands in Honduras with my two training buddies, Marisha and Robin, and then two weeks in Nicaragua to spend time with my dear friend and fellow Peace Corps volunteer, Carolyn.

I arrived in Managua after a three hour delay at 830pm, where Carolyn met me at the bus station and we promptly headed straight to the hotel, grabbed some dinner, did some catching up before we zonked out for the night. The next day Carolyn had some errands to run at the Peace Corps office, so it wasn't until Wednesday, 14 July that we officially started our vacation.

That morning we left the Peace Corps office and headed to the bus stop on a busy street. Our plan was to visit and have lunch with Carolyn's host family from training, and then go to the near-by town of Masaya, which is known for its artisan crafts (a chance for me to do some drooling and perhaps get some new ideas).

After waiting at the bus stop for about ten or fifteen minutes, a woman, who also appeared to be waiting, started chatting with us and asked us how we liked Nicaragua, how long we have been here for? She was very nice and seemed interested in what we had to say. We told her we are both volunteers and have been here for almost two years, Carolyn in Nicaragua, me in Guatemala. She then asked us where we were going, and said she was also going to Masaya. She then proceeded to offer to share a taxi with us. Sharing a taxi with other people is a very common practice in Nicaragua.

Upon entering the taxi, Carolyn sat on the left, I sat in the middle, the woman sat up front, and a man sat next to me on the right rear. After about moving ten metres or so, another guy indicated that he was also heading to Masaya and tried to get in on Carolyn's side, which would have sandwiched us in the car. At that point she told me she was getting a bad feeling, and we didn't allow him to sit beside Carolyn; instead, the guy sat up front next to the woman. As we continued to move down the main road, the man sitting next to me started asking us how we liked Nicaragua. I wasn't 100% comfortable at that point myself and didn't engage in conversation.

About one minute later, the woman mentioned that we should lock our door. Carolyn and I looked at each other and ignored the suggestion. Carolyn asked that we be let off at the next bus station. The driver started turning into where the bus station was, started slowing down, and then slammed on the accelerator down a dirt road. As soon as Carolyn started screaming and everyone else was yelling, I knew this was a situation we could no longer get ourselves out of.

Carolyn tried opening the door to escape, but the guy in the front jumped on top of her to lock the door, she tried kicking him back, but got punched in the face. While that went on, the man next to me pulled out a knife and started yelling and threatening that we cooperate, while hitting us on our heads, otherwise we would get hurt "very badly."

We were ordered to shut our eyes and cover them with our hands. They immediately started searching our pockets, taking out the little cash we had, our phones, cutting the string attached to my camera that I had tied to my belt loop and demanded to know where our bank cards were.

"Sólo queremos 'money'," The man next to me kept on saying, as he continued to threaten us and hit us on the head with the butt of his knife.

I kept on thinking to myself that this will end soon. But it didn't.

Somehow, I was unnervingly calm during the whole ordeal. I don't know if it was because I was so scared I didn't know how to react, or I just wanted it to be over with as quickly as possible so instead of fighting back I just did what they wanted.

After searching through our pockets, the man started undoing my belt and button of my pants. Inside I was screaming, but the knife kept on flashing in my head, and fear ran through me as to what they would do to Carolyn if I fought back. They only patted me down to see if I was hiding a money belt, a relief to the height of my horror.

About twenty minutes in, they went through my small backpack, where they found my MP3 player, and told us to direct them to our ATM cards. Once found, they demanded our PIN numbers with the threat that if we didn't give them the correct numbers we would be put in even more of harm's way. Once given our PIN numbers, the woman in the front was dropped off at or near-by some ATM to verify that the numbers we gave them were correct, and we continued to drive around for another thirty minutes until she called saying the withdrawal was successful.

Before they let us go, the man next to me stuffed money into my hand and asked told us to take a taxi straight to Leon. That Masaya was very dangerous, as was Managua (yes, our abductors told us this as they were abducting us). Ironically, the money he gave me was more than he had taken out of my pockets.

We were released out of the car and our backpacks were thrown to the ground before the car sped away down the dirt road. The trunk was left up, so we were unable to get the license plate number.

We looked around the wooded, remote area we were dumped in. We were both shaking, relieved to be out of the situation, but had no idea as to where we were and what we may encounter next.
We walked up the dirt road for about ten minutes until we hit pavement and saw a hotel. A bit uneasy, thinking that our abductors may have a connection with the hotel, we went anyway; we had no other choice.

The hotel staff quickly realised what had just happened, and immediately called the police, while Carolyn called the Peace Corps office for someone to come pick us up.

A driver from Peace Corps came to get us and took us to the police station while we waited around until we realised we were waiting for someone who was taking their time on their lunch break. I had some minor burst outs of tears, but it wasn't until we arrived to the Peace Corps office and inside the building did I break down, and Carolyn was the more composed one at that point.

The Peace Corps / Nicaragua management and staff have been nothing short of amazing in helping us deal with what we were put through- I have also gotten calls from the Guatemala staff checking in on me. It makes me wonder what lone travelers have done after being put through this.

I cannot express the gratitude from the amount of e-mails and calls I have received. All of them have been urging me to come home, but I would be defeated if I were to have done that. If I would have had to decide the day it happened, I would probably be sitting at home in Clarence, confused, locked up in my room and wondering if I had made the right decision.

Instead, Carolyn and I spent the long weekend in her site watching trash television shows, movies and Sex and the City DVDs... and of course I got the opportunity to meet her friends, fellow teachers and her home for the past twenty months- the reason I had come to Nicaragua. I will be returning to Guatemala on Monday to continue on with my last three months of work.

Life has gone on, and we are unbelievably thankful for that- and also realise how much worse it could have been.

On the bright side, what didn't get stolen? My five-and-a-half year old Canon SLR, C$900 (~45USD) from Carolyn's left bra, C$800 (~40USD) and my US debit card from my left and right bra, respectively. It has brought a whole new meaning to "cash or debit?"

But the most important thing that didn't get stolen: us, obviously.

Please, please, please, if anyone plans on traveling ANYWHERE, check out the US Department of State website, or to get even more useful travel information, creep away on Peace Corps Journals to find a volunteer serving in a country you will be traveling to and contact them. I can assure you that about 99%, if not 100% of PCVs will be more than happy to provide safety, security and realistic travel information to anyone who asks for it.

An Alternative Way of Cooking

"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." - Theodore Roosevelt

The last 22 months (a la grán...) that I have spent in Guatemala during my Peace Corps service have shaped me into the person I always wanted to become (read: I have not changed at all; rather, I have become more myself). I guess plopping you down in the middle of nowhere for two years can do that to you. But I don't want to get remotely philosophical with a title like "An Alternative Way of Cooking," so let's stop right there.

Of the innumerable life skills I have learnt whilst being down here, I have finally learnt how to cook. For those of you who have known me for quite a while, this truly is nothing short of a miracle, right? And for all of you who thought that the day would never come... well, I sure showed you.

And I'm not even talking about turning popcorn kernels and oil into light, fluffy deliciousness (no microwave required)- I'm talking about baking a cake without an oven.

Let me rephrase: with a Peace Corps oven.

Becoming a Peace Corps volunteer turned out to mean more than just learning an unorthodox amount of patience for people to show up for a meeting (waiting 2+ hours at times); it means doing without the many comforts and eases of home. And no, a Peace Corps oven isn't something that we get issued by Peace Corps before heading out to site... it's just a tuna can filled with water, a couple pots and pans placed over your burner, and voila.

And I'm not even kidding.

I was recently asked by some friends of mine to show them how to make carrot cake- a simple recipe with just one or two ingredients that can be found in San Marcos- the rest available in town.

The trick to this was that Fredy and Miriam didn't have a wood-burning stove as I had originally thought- just an open fire that they always cook on.

I was up for the challenge.

Getting the batter ready before adding in the carrots.

Peace Corps oven meets campo: I guess that's kind of redundant. I only had one baking pan, but since the recipe makes two cakes, we had to make do with what was available and use a smaller pot. From bottom to top: fire, comal (a flat surface on which tortillas are usually made), on which you place a tuna can filled with water, and then you place the pans with the batter in it, and cover that with a larger pot. And wait.

About 45 minutes later (normal baking time, even at high-altitude), the finished product.

Yum! Caleb couldn't wait to fill his tummy with pastel de zanahoria.

And if you thought that was cool, what to do if you've been out in the fields all day, and all you have with you are a few eggs, a plastic bag and some water from a nearby stream? No pot or pan to cook anything in.

Eat raw eggs? Nah, not if you're with a Guatemalan.

Fredy had told me when he used to go out and work in the fields with his father as an adolescent, his father would fill a plastic bag with water and eggs and then place the plastic bag over the fire for about ten minutes until the eggs were cooked.

I didn't want to believe him- how could a plastic bag full of water not melt when placed over hot coals or even a fire?

Since it had been well over ten years since Fredy had done this, we had to try a few times until we were finally successful.

Trial numero uno. Place eggs in bag and fill with water with no air in the bag.

The bag eventually broke from the pine needles- not the fire.

...and it slightly cooked.

String to tie the bag? No es necesario.

Doña Mercedes told us that we have to cover the water- and egg-filled bag with the coals. Sounds even nuttier, but mama knows best.

There was a small mishap with the second egg... it fell onto the ground while in the bag and was no longer of use for our experiment.

Egg number three. Will we just have an egg explode all over the kitchen or a fine hard-boiled egg? We shall see.

Whoops. We kind of forgot about the egg while preparing the cake batter, but luckily the egg was still intact.

Now that's what I call a boiled egg. Who needs a pot?

Even Lester was stunned by this marvel.

Ambassadorial Visit

It is truly rare that an ambassador takes the time to visit communities, see Peace Corps volunteers' work and the people whom with they work alongside, learn an indigenous language- all for the sake of doing his job to the best of his ability. Guatemala is lucky to have an incredibly interested and literally out-going representative to Guatemala, Ambassador Stephen McFarland.

It is even enviable amongst Peace Corps volunteers when this-dare I say über cool- ambassador makes a visit to a PCV's site while on his way to or from official state business.

Comitancillo recently had the pleasure and privilege to host the Ambassador for a short, but action-packed visit, which started with a fashionably-late arrival... which was a blessing, kind of. Of the year and a half I have been a volunteer at AMMID, there has never been a problem with getting locked out of the office. Except on the day the ambassador to Guatemala comes to visit.

Solution? Break-in (and clean up all evidence ASAP). Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Erwin, one of the agriculture guys, breaks the window for us to host Amb. McFarland.

Isa giving Ambassador McFarland a reconocimiento from AMMID.

All right. Call me self-righteous or whatever, but you must admit that you would be pretty psyched if your ambassador bought a textile product from your women's groups that they made and you, yourself, designed. Awesome.

Shane, the dentist in town who opened the clinic the day Ambassador McFarland visited, had an impromptu cutting-duct-tape ceremony that was facilitated by the Ambassador's pocket knife. I must be honest and say I was a bit disappointed that Shane didn't use floss as his ribbon. :-(

Me, Charlie, Amb. McFarland, Lauren and Abby

Not that we already didn't know that Ambassador McFarland is an ace man, he brought each of us PCVs a plate of his famous home-made brownies all the way to San Marcos from Guatemala City. You really can't get any cooler than that.

Guatemalan Birthdays

In Comitancillo, birthdays are not a particularly big celebratory occasion as it has become in the Western world; lavish parties with an assortment of decorations, finger foods, and a much-too-expensive birthday cake that contains over-processed cream that doesn't really taste like cream, but more like the container it actually came from.

In the association I have been assigned to, we celebrate a birthday every month or two. The last two birthdays celebrated were those of my site mate, Charlie's 24th, his counterpart, Erwin's 28th, and the accountant, Heidi's 25th.

Just like any other meeting in Guatemala, a detailed agenda is made.

1. Objectives (Just in case someone forgot why they were attending the birthday party.)
2. Mañanitas (Happy Birthday song)
3. Space for Expression (This is where everyone goes around the table and basically says something nice about the person whose birthday is being celebrated. Afterwards, the person whose birthday is being celebrated says a general thanks to everyone and why they feel special.)
4. Gift Giving (Everyone pools in Q10 to buy a birthday gift for each person, and then one person is selected to present the gift, usually requiring another short speech that includes "es muy sencillo, pero viene con todo el cariño de todo nosotros" it's a very small gift, but it comes with all the love from all of us"
5. Hugs (Guatemala has an unfortunate tradition of giving very awkward hugs- usually a one-arm, pat on the back that lacks a good, tight squeeze of a real, meaningful, two-armed hearty hug.)
6. Snack (A small sandwich with potato chips and hot chocolate with marshmallows.)
7. Words of Thanks (Thanking everyone for coming to celebrate the birthdays and wishing the celebrated one more time.)

Rubén, the director, giving Heidi a one-armed hug.

Isa giving Carlitos his sencillo regalito.

The Final Countdown

Although some (or perhaps many) of you may not be able to appreciate the goodness of what were the 80s (minus the hair- seriously, WTF), it is possibly an undeniable fact that some of the best one-hit-wonders came from the decade that, in hindsight, should have had the most fashion police on force.

I am now in the final stages of my time as a PCV. With less than six months to go (not including the All-Volunteer Conference, 4th of July party and three week Honduran / Nicaraguan holiday in July, which will leave me with just the last few days of July left of actual project work), I feel the clock ticking. With just the last bit of May left, a few days of work in July and about half of October, realistically this leaves me with just over three months left to get things accomplished (that is, June, August and September).

Maybe now is a bit of a premature time to reflect on some of the challenges I have had, but there was one point of my service where I seriously considered ET-ing (early terminating), but words cannot express how glad I am that I made the decision to tough it out.

January 2009. It was my third month in site and I had just found out that my NGO's three-year funding had ended. The best part? They didn't start the application process for the next three years of funding until - wait for it - January. Actually, this is the best part: as someone new to the artisan project, the director of my NGO wanted and expected me to write the proposal for the next three years of funding for the artisans. What the...?

I barely knew anything about the groups, let alone the project, and to make matters worse, the head artisan, my wonderful counterpart Isa, was not hired for the this process because at the time she was unable to use a computer, which is why I was insensibly assigned to a job that wasn't really supposed to be my responsibility.

What really put the icing on my frustration was that for almost the entire month of January I had no water in my house- neither did the rest of town. So leave it to Murphy's Law- things always get worse before they get better- and worse they got: during this time I got what was one of the worst bouts of food-poisoning I had ever gotten during my service (but I guess there's still time for worse)- simultaneous explosive diarrhea and projectile vomiting with no flushing ability that lasted for three days. And then rocking up to the Peace Corps office after an eight hour bus ride and not having showered for over a week (not even wet wipes).

So this what they were talking about when roughing it. Good times.

I kept on thinking to myself, "Barbara, this is the real test- get through this, and you can get through anything."

Well, everything sure got through me all right, and I would like to believe that I have gotten through most, if not all, of the challenges I have been put through the past nineteen months- be that on professional or personal levels, both have pushed me to have a more positive outlook on life. If you can't change a situation, you must change your attitude. No easy feat, but there must always be an alternative outlook.

My last few months here will certainly be filled with challenges (save my holiday- woohoo!)-trying to leave my projects here as completed as possible and figuring out my post-PC life (yikes).

While it would be a complete lie to say I am not excited of what lies beyond in the future, it would also be untrue to say I am not sad to know that my time left here is limited... two years really isn't that long.

Realizing my service is slowly coming to an end, I have found myself trying to take advantage of things I had previously taken for granted- such as hanging out and playing more with the kids on my street, taking more time to chat with the many vendors in the market, and I have found myself becoming increasingly patient as my ladies chat (read: gossip) away in Mam in the artisan store as I wait for one of them to translate for me so I can give them my own two cents, ;-) or just being stopped in the street to say a quick buenos días or buenas tardes by one of my 120 ladies who happen to be in town on any given day, asking when I am going to visit them in their community next.

Heading back to the states will be a challenge in itself- I haven't lived there since December 2007, and while I am entirely sure I will not be returning to Buffalo for the long-term, I am still uncertain as to whether or not I will move somewhere else within the country.

The other option? Take advantage of my dual US - Hungarian (EU) citizenship and search for an opportunity within any of the European Union member states. Since I am fortunate to have access to such, I may as well explore my options on both continents.

So that is exactly what I plan on doing: keep my options open. I have learnt that you can plan things to the T, but sometimes it's better to just take the punches as they come and be spontaneous.

Here's to an uncertain, but certainly exciting, future- both here in Guatemala and where ever the wind blows me to next.

Peace Corps Realities

Busting and Dusting out the SLR