Internet...at last....

I have a love/hate relationship with the camionetas. Caminetas are "chicken buses" that are retired yellow school buses from the United States. The seats are made the appropriate size for children, which isn't so bad for Guatemalans since they tend to be rather short. But for those of us who are a bit taller it is a bit more difficult. They squeeze you in three to a seat with the aisles packed as well. You are smashed in among everyone else, bum to bum, elbow to elbow, face to ....whatever part happens to be in front of you from the person in the aisle. The drivers are CRAZY!!! They don't waste any time on their trips...hauling around corners and barely stopping to let people off. To get on sometimes you have to make a run for it to grab the ladder on the back and hop in the swinging door. Every camioneta has its "ayudante" or helper who collets fares though the aisles, hangs out the open doors as the bus whizzes through town screaming the destination, and throwing whatever people are taking with them up on the roof. These men are pretty tough and don't mess around but are allegedly pretty popular with the Guatemalan ladies. There is always some sort of music blaring...be it reggaeton, salsa, Marimba, or Christian something. It impresses me how people are able to sleep on these rowdy trips. Some days when I'm in a good mood it's so much fun to experience the camioneta and I'm loving life and this country. Other days like yesterday, I hadn't been able to use the internet, I was really tired, and had to pee really bad and was not pleased to be crammed in between two smelly men, one of whose bag was uncomfortably jabbing my recently-vaccinated sore arm. To make matters worse, the camioneta stopped at the gas station while my bladder continued to stretch, the air became more stale, and claustrophobia began to set in when I realized with a panic that I could move any of my limbs. I made it home fine, but the camioneta trip didn't help my mood for the day.

Another thrilling form of transportation are the Tuk-Tuks. Essentially, they are three-wheeled open-sided contraptions with what sounds like a law mower motor. They chug up hills at about 10 miles an hour, but can move pretty speedily on flat or down hill surfaces. They cost 2 quetzales a person (Guatemalan currency)...so like 25 cents. They have a cute little horn that they honk at everyone in the street to get out of their way, it sould like a car alarm going off. They are a beautifully handy thing when you're running late and they even kindly put plastic on the sides when it rains. I wouldn't take on on the highway though - these would definitely not be street legal in the US.

Ah yes....rain. It's the rainy season right now, as in it rains almost every afternoon. You wake up to clear skies and sunshine and they sure enough when you're in the middle of eating lunch, it starts to pour. Sometimes it's accompanied by window-shattering thunder and lighting. Today sitting in Kelly's kitchen we saw a lightning bolt strike the house across the street right in front of us!

So Sunday 9/9 were elections. There was much anticipation as local power is fatally important. THere are literally lives and money at stake. THings went off without too much trouble in Alontenango. When the results were annouced late that night there were lots of firecrackers and music and madness, which of course I slept through. However, in other towns, ballots were taken and burned in huge bonfires...in other towns physical fights broke out. But by Guatemalan standards, this was low-key. Word on the street this afternoon is that the man who won for Alotenango for mayor was receiving death threats for himself or one of his children. Part of the problem is that since there are so many political parties, the winner will have only received like 14% of the vote...so the remaining 86% are pissed. In local elections like for mayor, the winner will not be very popular with many people and oftentimes there are problems with the incumbant stepping down. It is riduculous that every layer of the government here is thoroughly corrupt and no one has any trust in it. As for president, there will be a run off between the first and second place winners of this election in a few weeks. The choices are a ridiculously corrupt man or the guy who's deeply involved in narco-trafficking...take your pick. One of the senators is an ex-general who is responsible for the deaths of thousands of people during the civil war and wanted to be tried in Spain.

Training is going well. We gather once a week in Santa Lucia at the Peace Corps training center for various medical/safety/security information, shots, and technical classes. This week our medical session was about all the different types of worms, amoebas, and parasites we might contract while we're here. (Including brain worms that you don't know you have until you start having seizures). It was terrifying. Basically the moral of the story is WASH YOUR HANDS whenever humanly possible.

Spanish classes are really fun...it's the four of us girls and our fabulous teacher for at least four hours every morning in one of our houses. We go do lots of nifty things too like checking out the local cemetary, drinking coffee at the local gas station (more on this in a moment), or day trips to Antigua to musuems and teaching us how to maneuver ourselves in Guatemala City.

Technical training is incredibly informative. I'm learning so much about the government structure here, cultural attitudes, and the functioning of development groups. In 1996 when the peace accords were signed to officially end the civil war, there were some laws passed aimed at decentralization of the country to give local municipal authorities more control over their territories and to encourage greater citizen participation. There is a whole structure of local community group that can receive national funds for their development projects and give a structure for communities to organize themselves, get connected with the local goverment, and accomplish self-directed development projects. The problem is that many people don't know these options even exist. We will be working with one of these groups here in Alotenango during our three months here to support the work that they are doing and offer trainings to them.

I am very appreciative of the Peace Corps' approach to development with the emphasis on "Capacity-building." Our goal is not to go into communities and "develop them" but rather to help people prioritize their goals and help them build capacity to do it themselves. Hence, we're not giving money like many other NGO's, but people, knowledge, and skills-training. Peace Corps volunteers are not kept in any one site for more than 7 years I think in order to prevent the people from becoming dependant. Another thing that I appreciate is that PC has a rule that no administrator can keep their same job for more than 5 years. This keeps the organization from being run by a bunch of out-of-touch beaurocrats. The staff is INCREDIBLE. They are so helpful and knowledgeable and we´re definitely lucky to be working with them.

La gasolinera...the gas station. The only place in town to get a good cup of coffee that has table that you can sit and chat. There aren't really restaruants in town and definitely no cozy cafes. I miss Seattle. So we go there...oh...about once a day and drink coffee or diet coke and maybe eat some candy. We've made friends with the Senora who works there and it's a comfortable place to be. There was one day a really cute guy that stopped in, very tall (unusal), well-dressed, driving a brand new Land Rover. Probably involved in drugs since he's got money....but who knows. Now it's the joke for our families here, our teachers, and the Senora about how we go the gasolinera every day to watch for the "chico guapo."

Kelly and I have been running a couple times a week, which keeps me somewhat sane. I go practically nuts sitting in classes all day long and not working out regularly. She also brought a yoga DVD that did this morning which made me feel SO much better.

There's lots of free time, especially on the weekends. I kind of wander around the house all day long, chatting with the families, waiting for meals even if I'm not hungry, reading for hours, and playing Phase 10 the card game, for example, for 3 and a half hours last Saturday.

I have a cell phone now! Even that was an adventure when we went to Antigua to buy them. We had to go around to like 4 different stores to even find the ones we wanted. And there aren't like cell phone stores. Every store is a mixture of a bunch of things and you have to ask if they have what you want. Our Spanish teacher brought us to McDonalds because there's a nice garden there actually. But, since we were there, we bought McFlurries! Chocolate chip and caramel...tasty.

Clothes washing is interesting. Generally either my mom or some other women who comes to do it does the clothes washing. But Peace Corps recommended that females wash their own underwear. I undertook the task over the weekend during my stretch of unfilled hours. The washing is done in the pila, the large container of water with separate areas for draining and rinsing. It's concrete, so you rub soap on your wet clothes and scrub them against concrete. My clothes have never been cleaner, but it sure puts wear on them. I actualy don't mind doing laundry...it's rather cleansing. :-) But then things take DAYS to dry (jeans never ever do) because the air is so damp.

My family has lots of television channels. I've indulged in watching Law and Order in English. Almost every night after dinner the whole family gathers together to watch their "telenovela" (soap opera). They are ridiculous but so catching. We watch "Distalando Amor"...Distilling Love...about this overly hunky man and his many lovers on his Mexican tequilla farm. One of my favorite scenes was when he gave one of his lovers a necklace and when he put it, he found out she was already wearing the identical neckalance from another man. Entrancing!

So I'm adjusting to living here in a good way. The bucket baths with barely luke warm water, the camionetas, the butcher shops with every part for display, the copious children in the street, "El gato" the drunk man on the corner, and marimba music everywhere, are becoming normal aspects of daily like. I still wake up at 5:00, 5:30, 6:00, and 6:00 to the blaring camionetas horns and firecrackers for whoever's birthday that day, but I fall back asleep quickly as if that's normal.