the beach.

a while back, i needed to get away.  this happens to me a lot (in peace corps and in life).  you feel it coming, the way you feel a cold about to attack (that tickle in the back of the throat) or the way you feel a rain storm hounding at the door (the certain heaviness in the air).  it feels like tiredness.  like a match burning down to the last bit of wood.  and it happens just about every two months on the dot.

you see, we all get caught up in our lives.  op, i've got a wedding this weekend and need to do laundry and i promised so and so that we'd get a coffee.  it's the same here (except it's more like, 'i promised so and so that we'd fly kites or have an enchilada and talk about the crops').  and i wait.  and wait.  until it becomes absolutely necessary to take a weekend or a saturday and GET OUT!  haha...

so a month ago rene and i took a day trip to the beach.  now, this was not a resort, crystal water, pina colada in hand, beach chair kind of beach.  but no matter, we hopped on some buses and in three hours were splashing in the waves...  the most scary, horrifying waves (seriously strong undertow).  but, it was beautiful and warm and there was something healing about the salty water drying sticky on my skin and the sand that i was finding in my hair days after we'd returned.

and it was just what i needed. 

take a break. 

you work too hard. 

Life has its ways of keeping us in check.  Its going well, great even and then crack.  It all breaks.  Òr we break it.

That is a complete exaggeration.  My life did not break.  But let`s just say, I got caught in the crossfire of an unhealthy relationship and it hurts to watch someone you love turns against you.  Long story short, it was a hellish week but everything happens for a reason.  So now I am officially moved out and living at the house of a teacher I work with and her family.  I have the first floor all to myself (besides pia of course)!   

Here are some pics of life in Zunil!

Independence Day Parade, Zunil (can you spot me?)

The new place!!!

My inspiration center...

My very own kitchen!!!!

Where I work! haha

The boyfriend is in a band (marching band, that is)

You know, just wearing traje, talking on the cell, in the muni... typical peace corps

church, mountains, flag.  GUATEMALA!

My host niece, she's not walking yet, but the girl knows how to wear traje!!!

TORTILLAS!! 

During my visit with Sam’s host family, I had the privilege of watching Dona Maria making tortillas from start to finish. It’s somewhat involved, but she makes it look so easy. For some reason, I find this process very intriguing. Maybe it’s all the different textures and gradients of yellow involved or the working with your hands to make something from scratch. Or maybe it's the fact that this is almost straight-up corn and water. Or maybe it’s that they have some hidden addictive quality that turns ‘I-kind-of-like-tortillas’ people into ‘I-have-to-eat-them-everyday’ people. I have never liked tortillas all that much, but even I was under the tortilla spell.

1. grinding (cooked) corn kernals at the

molina. where do you find a molina? on every block in almolonga.

 2. the ground corn is a doughy texture…then carried back to the house in a bowl (on your head of course)

3.) grinding the dough one more time, but by hand on a special rock to get the dough to just the right texture.

5. the corn mixture is ready to roll into balls

 7. this part is fun to watch. they take each ball of            

corn dough and toss it from hand to hand until it

becomes a perfectly round tortilla. they do it so

fast, it looks like they are clapping ferociously.

 8. the final product! cooked over the stove.

So I have this amazing friend named Christina.  We met in the girls bathroom at Solon High back in the day and turns out she came to guatemala for a while and we had all sorts of adventures.  Life isn't the same without her here... But here's what she's got to say:

BLOG #1: Weeding is sacred

“Do your knees hurt, Dona Maria?”

She looks down at her knees. “No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No, not even a little.” She laughs.

We are weeding in her garden, and the backs of my thighs are permanently glued to my calves; my knees are begging to be straightened. But she's been sitting like this since she was a small child, so she's quite accustomed to this position. 

We are talking to the weeds as we rip them out of the soil. “No tenga miedo...te voy a encontrar...y te voy a matar". Don't be afraid...I will find you...and I will kill you. My first sarcastic joke in Spanish, I’m feelin good.

My attempt at joke number two didn’t quite go as planned. I said, "Dona Maria, did God really have to make weeds?" 

I was completely thrown off by her response. “If we had no weeds we would have no work.” 

Her words hung in the air for a few seconds before my mind could really grab hold of them. It was such a simple statement, but something about it struck me from a new angle. And I still can’t put my finger on the reason it was so poignant…if it was the statement itself or her lack of hesitation. 

If what was so profound was the nature of the statement itself, then I suppose what struck me was how representative it is of the work ethic of Almolongan women. Work, in and of itself, seems to be so highly valued. Regardless of the extent to which it fulfills all passions, solves all world problems, or subscribes to the latest career trends—simply the act of working is significant, is good for us, is sacred. And to so strongly value this naked concept of work, I think, fosters such a unique and powerful work ethic that is evident throughout the community.

Weeding is sacred. 

Now, if the profundity of her response was not in the essence of her words, it’s quite possible that what struck me was the confidence and lack of hesitation in her voice. The sureness. This woman is filled to her 4'8" brim with a lifetime of experience that adds immeasurable depth to the simplest of statements. And credibility I suppose.

How can people who have seen so much, endured burdens so heavy…how can these people have such sureness about life and how it's supposed to be? Such inner strength. Is it a coping mechanism to carry on…or is it more than that…I mean, it seems as though my new Almolongan friends each have an extra organ in their chest pumping raw strength through their veins. Where can I get one of these? I could use some extra mental/emotional/spiritual endurance…not to mention some extra blood flow in my knees.

i'm a worrier.  i worry about the future.  about what i should eat for lunch.  about how often i should bathe my dog.  about whether or not it's good to floss.

but being a worrier isn't all bad.  worrying lead me to planning.  type 'a' pyschopath list making.  umbrella carrying, hand gel using, 'let me see if i can pencil you in'.  i'm that girl.  obnoxious?  well, yes.  but at least you'll know who to ask for nail clippers on a chicken bus bouncing through some mountainside of guatemala.

two weeks ago i had a worrier's nightmare.  my three bestfriends came to guatemala.  let me clarify:  there was nothing more magical than the idea of my ladies here.  but let me clarify: guatemala is hard to predict.  enter: worry.  but i've got my handy remedy, mr. plan-the-heck-out-of-the-trip itinerary.

and so, here we were.  waltzing around guatemala together.  reaquainting eachother with the small details that make our lives ours.  hearing about little drama, attractive men, endless work, growing family, and watching our dreams float around us...

there comes a time when you start to appreciate what you have.  why is that?  and it has taken me a while to see how special it is to grow up and grow old with three women who inspire me in such distinct ways.  who keep me in check.  who teach me how to give more of myself.  who know, just as well as i do, that no matter how far away we live or how different we become,

we are four pieces

and one heart.

Sixth grade girls at school- Calera, Zunil (my bball buddies! p.s. we play barefoot)

The teachers have an event to pick the queen of the school  district

Fantasy costume

Each school cheered for their candidate (this was no joke...)

Kids brushing their teeth- Xeul, Almolonga

just thought i'd share...hope you like

 Zunil

 Zunil

 Almolonga

Lake Atitlan

My wonderful Aunt Leslie came to visit in February and we had a blast waltzing around Guatemala!  It was so special for me to be able to share this place and the people that have become a part of who I am... Thanks Aunt Leslie, you made all the difference!


A visit to Guatemala, to Xela, Almolonga, and Zunil, the “lake” and Antigua.  Magical places.  Amazing sights, sounds, experiences.  But nothing topped seeing Samantha, and seeing her in the setting that has become so precious to her.  A beautiful young woman in a special place.  Learning much, much to learn.  Strong opinions being chiseled and formed by opportunities far beyond what most of us will ever experience.  I can’t wait to see what the future holds for this niece of mine.

Public health was my profession, and seeing Samantha embrace and teach some of the most basic messages of public health was a delight.  To see her in the classroom, all eyes glued to her, certainly because of the enthusiasm she brought to the room; perhaps helped by the long blond hair and light complexion rarely seen in that part of the world, was a hoot!

To see her interact with friends and acquaintances, to hear her language skills praised by local professionals, to see her struggle with the loneliness that comes with the separation from family and long-familiar friends, to see how she deals with it all; that was a big part of the joy of visiting.

For me, it was a second visit to Guatemala, the first being about 40 years ago; a time when young women could travel safely anywhere in the country.  To see/hear of the dangers now to tourists (and Peace Corps volunteers) is so sad, especially since much of it is likely related to drug trafficking to the U.S.  To see how little has changed in the lives of the people of southwestern Guatemala, to see what seemed to be very limited teaching going on in the rural schools I visited, to see only the very basic level of water and sanitation available to the people, to see the seemingly limited impact of the Church in the lives of the people, was sad.  To see the resilience and graciousness of these amazing people, the fruits (mostly vegetables!) of their hard work, the curiosity and playfulness of the children, the beauty of their traditional textiles, the spectacular beauty of the countryside, all this was amazing.

Kudos to Samantha, and all young people who, in giving two years and working hard for others through organizations like the Peace Corps, gain so much themselves.  Sam, you will never be the same!

You know when you´ve hit that point.  All the little things make you smile.  The extra errand to the store for toilet paper or icecream or whatever it is that was forgotten.  But it's not a bother.  Sure it could have been easier, but there's something about these little things.  The parking lot, the long aisles mostly filled with things never bought, the tabloids in the checkout line.  But it's not a bother.  It's life.

And when it comes to that.  To accepting that an extra trip to the store won't kill you.  It might be the trip when you finally decide to buy greek yogurt or the expensive cheese and life from that moment on will never be the same.  Such small things can step by step change the course of a life.  Okay, fine.  Maybe not.

So I confess, I miss that.  Well sort of.  I hate parking lots (there is really no word strong enough in the English language to express that).  I hate lines (a lesser hate).  But there's a familiarity about it.  You just know that the woman in front of you will have about a thousand coupons (half of which will be expired) and you standing there with one item and billion other things to do.  You just feel it in your gut.  Because that's how it always is.  But you can anticipate it.  You know the store.  You have known it for years.

While a year is enough time to get used to things, it's not enough to feel used to it.  Sure, I know where to get the freshest bag of potato chips, where the nail polish is cheapest, where not to buy anything.  The owners know me.  But it's not the same.

I know what you're thinking.  'She's gone over the deep end'.  Let's just say that I had a life changing moment as I stood over an egg that was falling in slow motion and watched it break onto the floor (and yes I tried to quickly transfer it to a pan without the yolk slipping out) before I sat down on the floor in a house somewhere in the mountains of Guatemala and cried.

Eventually I pulled myself together.  Threw the remains in the compost pile, grabbed a coat and went to the store.

These are the little things that make my life mine.  The little dissappointments.  The yellow guts of an egg to remind me that you can't win every battle.  And that sometimes, the extra errand isn't the end.  It's not a bother.  It's life.

Georgiana

Hi G,

So funny thing, as it turns out, your name is in fact, not Georgiana. And one day when you read this you'll probably be thinking 'thank god'. But you see, we've been waiting for you for a while. Ummmm... like about 9 months. And your name was a conversation topic all of that time. And all of a sudden, you're here. And the world is a better place because you're a part of it.

So I wrote you a little lullaby. I hate that I'm not there to sing it to you in person but I want you to know that I love you and that you're going to be great. And I have a feeling, given your cool name (which is still a secret to the rest of the family), we are going to share a love for the divine (that is Bob Dylan)...

Dream your dreams

and dream them big

watch them fall

and see you'll live

through it all

Oh Georgiana

Fall asleep if you wanna

cuz I'll be thinking of ya

Oh Georgiana

Feliz Semana Santa! I'm what we would call, staycationing, here in Almolonga and having lovely week full of food, processions and lounging in bed with Pia and Che...
Yesterday (Good Friday) whipped up a storm in the kitchen, or rather, my host mom did. She made fried fish....
Garbanzo beans in a sweet sauce...
And a delicious salad of green beans, onion, carrots, beets and peas.
The catholics had a beautiful procession Friday morning.
Trajes!
Okay, so these guys use real whips to beat the actors. Extreme?
Carrying the image of Jesus...
Women shading their faces from the sun with their scarves...