National Lampoon’s Guatemalan Vacation

The following is a guest entry by my kick-ass friend who used two weeks of her vacation to visit me. I'm sorry we didn't get lost anywhere this time.

By Carolyn Smalkowski, PCV Nicaragua

Guatemala has enough things going for it that my visit there almost made me feel like I was visiting home. Between the heavy tourism and plethora of American comfort food, I was finally able to have what I felt was a real vacation from my Peace Corps service in Nicaragua. But I wasn’t just there to see the beautiful mountains and freeze my ass off (yes, contrary to popular belief, Guatemala is COLD), I was there to spend time with my wonderful and close friend, Barbara Veres.

Upon arriving in Comitancillo, San Marcos, after a windy and very uncomfortable eight-hour bus ride from Antigua, I felt like I was entering into a fairy tale. The clouds enveloped the bus as we scaled the mountain filled with a serene forest of pine trees. Entering into Barb’s primarily indigenous community up on a hillside reminded me of what I always thought typical Peace Corps service would be like before I came to Nicaragua. A toilet, hot water, and wireless internet, on the other hand, were not. ;) [Editor’s note: the toilet only flushes when there is water, there is only hot water when there is electricity, and the wireless internet… well, it’s totally affordable on my PC stipend, so why deny myself something that is within my means? You’re just jealous, Carolyn ;-) ].

I appreciated having the opportunity to meet Barb’s famous counterpart, Isa, as well as many of her other well-liked, and not-so-well-liked, coworkers. We sat with the artisans of one community as each of them, with their quiet babies strapped to their backs, crocheted yamacas, 250 of which Barbara would later schlep half-way across the country. I learned about the different types of weaving techniques and all of the hard work that goes into each and every product. It was an experience that later persuaded me into buying two bags, two scarves, and a bed cover from her group and in the towns along Lake Atitlan (or maybe the fact that I was “on vacation” had a little to do with my happy-go-lucky spending).

Overall, the experience of being in Barbara’s town gave me a better sense of her day-to-day life and the stresses and successes of her work in Guatemala. Much of it is relatable as I also live and work in Latin America, but the additional challenges of language barriers and a generally conservative indigenous culture make adjusting and integrating into her community that much harder.

After visiting Comitancillo, the real Guatemalan vacation, for the both of us, finally began. We spent days in Antigua and Xela gorging ourselves on typical Guatemalan cuisine such as bagels, falafel, curry, and an all-expenses-paid candlelit dinner (with wine) financed by Mr. Ron Veres for Barbara’s 25^th birthday (thanks, Barb’s dad!). The locally-grown coffee, too, was excellent, and we treated ourselves to some Guatemalan music at a cute gringo café [Editor’s note: El Cuartito in Xela, also with live Guatemalan music- not too shabby if you just want to kick it for the night]. Yeah…ex-pats have it real hard.

The highlight of our trip, though, was by far Semuc Champey. Translated as, “the river that hides under the Earth”, this hidden gem, which took two full days of roundtrip travel, was more beautiful than we had imagined. Barb and I started off our day (after a not so great sleep at a slightly more rustic hostel than we had expected) on a cave tour, illuminated only by the candles with which we held on for dear life in the palms of our hands as we swam through the murky depths. At one point on the tour, we got what we thought would be an exhilarating opportunity to climb up a tall rock and jump down. After all, Carlos, our guide, had been working there for months and had never had any accidents, so what was the danger in that? Well, Carlos had apparently never met Barbara. Being the accident-prone person that she is, [Editor’s note: fair enough, that’s totally true] Barb slipped off the rock, pulling a ligament in her index finger and falling on top of me [Editor’s note: I had nowhere else to fall- she was right behind me!], leaving a hideous (but pretty bad-ass) bruise on my shin. Looking back now, it was actually pretty damn funny.

The rest of the day Barb and I spent taking pictures of every twig and bush from all possible angles. We swam in the turquoise, crystal-clear ponds, and hiked up the mountain to get a sweet view of the waterfall and ponds below, fully prepared and decked out in our official hiking gear of flip flops with string tied around the ankles (left over from the caves…maybe that’s why we’re so accident prone?). Although light-years away, Semuc Champey was well worth the trip.

Overall, what can I say? Guatemala’s a pretty freakin’ cool place, and Barbara, as always, was a wonderful guide. If you haven’t yet gotten the chance to visit her, go (and stop by Nicaragua while you’re at it)! I’m looking forward to future travels around Nicaragua, El Salvador, Honduras, and other off-the-beaten-path locals with the now crunchier-than-you’ve-ever-seen Posh Corps Volunteer, Barbara Veres.

Guate Time

For as long as I have been in site, the past 16 months, there has been a countless number of yards of fajas sitting in the display case. From the start, I have been pushing to get gringo-styled belts made out of them, having local carpenters make wooden belt buckles, but the for whatever reason, the local carpenters said the detailed work to make the buckles wouldn't be worth it for the amount they would get compensated... not really sure why, but the point is that they weren't willing to do the job.

Still wanting to keep the work in the community, I looked for other options but found nothing in town. I pretty much gave up, but continued to ask Isa about local carpenters in the communities, with no luck.

Today when I went back to the tienda after making a round in the market ($0.15 avocados are to die for), Isa surprised me with the gorgeous leather-lined belts with the ladies' back strap weaved fajas.

The leather smith, Gabino, is from Chixal, a community that already has an artisan group. He handcrafts the belts from cow and sheep hide. The quality of his work is top-notch... exporting these, along with the kippahs, would be amazing.

So I guess the moral of the story is that if things happen, they happen in "Guate time." I think these were well-worth the wait.

My lovely ladies. And Bobby. Yes, one of them is wearing a kippah. My ladies are not only awesome, but they also have a great sense of humor.

Isa is still figuring out the prices, but the belts will probably range from 7.50 - 10 USD, depending on size.

Gabino, a leather smith with some 20 odd years of experience, has perfected his trade.

The Isa-nator: Part I

When receiving our site assignments, to make sure we have a(n) (supposedly) easier transition integrating into our community, work and general life in our new home for the next two years, Peace Corps designates someone from the organization we are to work for to help us with just that. Peace Corps calls this person, or liaison, our counterpart.

Because life (not Peace Corps, or even Guatemala) always seems to throw surprises out of left field, many PCVs have found themselves counterpart-less just a few months, or even weeks, after getting to site. One of my friends even had the experience of her counterpart defecting to the states one year into our service... yeah, it happens.

And even then, some PCVs have multiple counterparts at once, or somehow find a way to work with groups by themselves after earning the confianza of the group members. It’s a tough adjustment- not only culturally-speaking, but work ethic-wise and of course, personality-wise that can be make or break for the next two-years. Being paired up with someone you will work well with and have the same vision as is not always realistic as much as it may be ideal.

I consider myself one of the lucky few who not only continue to work with my counterpart, but have a great working and personal relationship with her.

Isabel, or Isa, is a 43-year-old indigenous Mam woman, a wife and mother of eight children (all that have survived birth, something she is very proud of). The first thing I noticed about her on counterpart day at the Peace Corps office was her determination and ambition for the artisan project to continue and to grow to, eventually, an international level.

The only teeny tiny problem with this was that Isa didn’t know how to use a computer; after all, she only has a grade six education, but a sharp mind and meticulous disposition at that. Although my first goal was to teach her how to use a computer, she constantly told me how afraid she was about breaking it or doing something wrong. I tried to figure out a way for her to get over this fear.

And then the opportunity arose to go zip-lining at our end of the year office trip, which was my second month in site in December.

I asked Isa if she was also going to go zip-lining.

She told me no, she was afraid.

“Then I’m paying and you’re going,” was my response to her.

She nervously smiled and nodded.

As she changed out of her corte into sweat pants, the other six ladies followed her lead.

Before I knew it, there were seven middle-aged indigenous ladies standing around in sweatpants, giggling like school girls as I took photos of the incredible scene.

And they all went so gracefully down to the other side, barely flinching.

Fast forward to May 2009. Isa still does not know how to use a computer because of a variety of organizational and financial difficulties surrounding our association; namely her not working for the first few months of the year, which turned into me doing much of the administrative and secretarial work for the artisan component of the association’s project, something PCVs generally are not supposed to do because of a little thing called “sustainability.” Usually kind of important when doing development work so it can actually be sustainable. Just a mere detail, really.

However, once she did get back working, the director, Ruben, made it seemingly impossible for her to learn. He came up with excuses such as there not being financial resources for her to learn (uh, HELLO! Peace Corps Volunteer (read: not secretary) at your service), she could not learn during working hours (even though this would help her advance in her work and she lives an hour away…), among other things.

But all the while he unarguably agreed that it was very important for her to learn.

…riiiight.

In mid-May I got to the point where I said “screw it” (though I must say my choice of words were a bit more vulgar), sat Isa down at the computer during work hours in front of Ruben (who didn’t dare say a word), and what was probably the most BORING two weeks of my life thus far in my 25-years of existence on earth were coincidentally the most productive I have ever had.

One of the proudest moments of my Peace Corps service came just a few days after my two-week session with Isa. I was out of town and called her to ask a question.

After asking how she was doing, she responded, Solo aquí practicando en la compu. Just here practicing on the computer.

I felt like what a parent must feel like when their child first learns how to ride a bike without training wheels.

This was the first time she had turned on the computer and worked on it by herself without me at her side.

I was beaming, inside and out.

I had done something sustainable. I had actually accomplished one of my goals, and I wasn’t even a year into my service (at that point, May 2009).

Many more things have happened since then, namely recent events, but since I don’t want to write a novel of an entry (and believe me, I could; I’ve never been known for my short and sweet written responses), the continuation will have to wait a couple more weeks… but stay tuned- this is only the beginning of why Isa kicks some serious indigenous ass.

One of my first proud moments of my Peace Corps service- getting Isa out of her traje and into her ẍnula outfit, complete with güipile and faja. And of course protective gear for zip-lining.

Getting ready to fly across the valley to the other side.

I can't help but get a tear in my eye when I see this photo.

With Isa at the New World Crafts exhibition in Guatemala City in October 2008, one week before I swore-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer.