Rigoberta Menchú! If you don't know who that is, look her up.
A few friends/fellow researchers
Tanya (also from BYU)
Lizet
Jen
Martha (the cheer coach)
my new pet
25 June 2007
Choppy but informative post
Well, folks, we never thought it would happen. We never would have guessed it, considering my high school years. But yes, I’m totally in with the cheerleading crowd. They gave me an official cheerleader name. And it is surprisingly similar to what my niece used to call me before she could pronounce names correctly. My cheerleader name here in Nueva is Mimi.
Life in the community is great so far. Some of Xwan and Manuela’s kids around my age are in vacation between college semesters and are visiting their parents. They liven things up at home. One of their sons is studying philosophy at a seminary in Guatemala City and wants to become a priest. A daughter is studying clinical psychology in Quetzaltenango, and she listens to the radio (in fact, I didn’t know they owned a radio until she showed up). I’m impressed with how much education the kids are seeking, and with how much their parents support them in it. A few people have told me that a generation ago, a man could earn enough to maintain a family without much formal education – subsistence and commercial farming and small mercantilism. In the same generation, women were discouraged from studying because their place was in the home, and parents weren’t willing to invest in a fruitless education. Today things have changed. It’s much harder to earn a living, and education for both men and women is being pushed. Parents are demanding more from teachers and are sending all of their kids to school. Kids are finishing higher levels of education (used to be they’d stop after primary school).
I had quite an adventure this weekend. I’m pretty much dying with the laptop the program provided (Windows 95, only has Word, Excel, and Powerpoint… and when I say “only,” I mean it doesn’t have a PDF reader program… or the basic calculator function… it’s bare bones). I really, really, really have been needing to access some PDF files I brought with me, and I couldn’t even download Acrobat off the internet ‘cuz… well… YOU try finding anything on the internet these days that’s compatible with Windows 95. Anywho, I had my mom FedEx me my laptop (I don’t want to talk about how much that cost… it’s too painful…). FedEx doesn’t deliver to teeny-itty-bitty communities in Guatemala, even if they are just barely off the Pan-American highway. So I had to go to Guatemala City to pick it up. The best way to do that was to catch a bus to Quetzaltenango on Thursday, spend the night, then catch a 4 a.m. bus to Guatemala City the next day. I love Quetzaltenango. My friend Martha traveled with me, and she wanted to stay in the same hostel we were at last time. I was a bit wary because that’s where I got fleas. She said we’d make sure to get a different room. Well, a few minutes after we’d settled into our room, I was sitting on my bed. And lo and behold, what do I see on the mattress? Yea verily, a flea. A pretty slow one, in fact. I caught it and took it downstairs to show the front desk. They agreed to spray our room with insecticide while we went into town. Just for good measure, I taped the flea into my field notes. His name is Pepe II, after the first flea I caught and taped into my journal in Ecuador. I woke up the next morning (very early the next morning, I might add…) with nary a red itchy bump. Huzzah for Baygon insecticide, I say.
We slept for most of the 4.5-hour bus ride into Guatemala City. For the last hour and a half, they put on a movie. It wasn’t as bad as some bus movies I’ve seen, but it was pretty pointless, I say. What is it with Latin American busrides and senselessly violent American movies? The movie was “The Punisher.”
more fleas – headed to Panajachel, got TONS of flea bites at the hostel. I HATE FLEAS!!!!!!!!!! And I itch like mad. What a nice thought to not have gotten fleas in Xela. What a pain to have to deal with them again. I think I’m particularly allergic to flea venom. Some other students have gotten flea bites, too, but the bites are smaller, swell less, and itch less. I must be “lucky.”
Rigoberta Menchú – there was a political rally for Rigoberta Menchú, the most well-known Guatemalan in the world. She is an indigenous woman who was politically involved in the Guatemalan civil war that ended in 1996. She wrote a book (which I read before I left) about her experiences and won the Nobel Peach Prize in 1992 or 3. She’s running for president for 2008-2012. I stood within 2 feet of her for a bit. It was awesome.
Life in the community is great so far. Some of Xwan and Manuela’s kids around my age are in vacation between college semesters and are visiting their parents. They liven things up at home. One of their sons is studying philosophy at a seminary in Guatemala City and wants to become a priest. A daughter is studying clinical psychology in Quetzaltenango, and she listens to the radio (in fact, I didn’t know they owned a radio until she showed up). I’m impressed with how much education the kids are seeking, and with how much their parents support them in it. A few people have told me that a generation ago, a man could earn enough to maintain a family without much formal education – subsistence and commercial farming and small mercantilism. In the same generation, women were discouraged from studying because their place was in the home, and parents weren’t willing to invest in a fruitless education. Today things have changed. It’s much harder to earn a living, and education for both men and women is being pushed. Parents are demanding more from teachers and are sending all of their kids to school. Kids are finishing higher levels of education (used to be they’d stop after primary school).
I had quite an adventure this weekend. I’m pretty much dying with the laptop the program provided (Windows 95, only has Word, Excel, and Powerpoint… and when I say “only,” I mean it doesn’t have a PDF reader program… or the basic calculator function… it’s bare bones). I really, really, really have been needing to access some PDF files I brought with me, and I couldn’t even download Acrobat off the internet ‘cuz… well… YOU try finding anything on the internet these days that’s compatible with Windows 95. Anywho, I had my mom FedEx me my laptop (I don’t want to talk about how much that cost… it’s too painful…). FedEx doesn’t deliver to teeny-itty-bitty communities in Guatemala, even if they are just barely off the Pan-American highway. So I had to go to Guatemala City to pick it up. The best way to do that was to catch a bus to Quetzaltenango on Thursday, spend the night, then catch a 4 a.m. bus to Guatemala City the next day. I love Quetzaltenango. My friend Martha traveled with me, and she wanted to stay in the same hostel we were at last time. I was a bit wary because that’s where I got fleas. She said we’d make sure to get a different room. Well, a few minutes after we’d settled into our room, I was sitting on my bed. And lo and behold, what do I see on the mattress? Yea verily, a flea. A pretty slow one, in fact. I caught it and took it downstairs to show the front desk. They agreed to spray our room with insecticide while we went into town. Just for good measure, I taped the flea into my field notes. His name is Pepe II, after the first flea I caught and taped into my journal in Ecuador. I woke up the next morning (very early the next morning, I might add…) with nary a red itchy bump. Huzzah for Baygon insecticide, I say.
We slept for most of the 4.5-hour bus ride into Guatemala City. For the last hour and a half, they put on a movie. It wasn’t as bad as some bus movies I’ve seen, but it was pretty pointless, I say. What is it with Latin American busrides and senselessly violent American movies? The movie was “The Punisher.”
more fleas – headed to Panajachel, got TONS of flea bites at the hostel. I HATE FLEAS!!!!!!!!!! And I itch like mad. What a nice thought to not have gotten fleas in Xela. What a pain to have to deal with them again. I think I’m particularly allergic to flea venom. Some other students have gotten flea bites, too, but the bites are smaller, swell less, and itch less. I must be “lucky.”
Rigoberta Menchú – there was a political rally for Rigoberta Menchú, the most well-known Guatemalan in the world. She is an indigenous woman who was politically involved in the Guatemalan civil war that ended in 1996. She wrote a book (which I read before I left) about her experiences and won the Nobel Peach Prize in 1992 or 3. She’s running for president for 2008-2012. I stood within 2 feet of her for a bit. It was awesome.
18 June 2007
Under Construction...
Note: This is my second post for the day. If you want to see what the past week was like, read the one before this.
The longer I’m here, the more I realize that Nueva Ixtahuacán is a ‘bodaciously small town’ (name that movie... I know Cari can... here’s another hint: ‘I could be at home right now drinking this monster eggnog my brother makes with lighter fluid...’). Like I mentioned a couple weeks ago, Nueva Ixtahuacán is called ‘nueva’ (new) because it was built to replace the Ixtahuacán destroyed by hurricane Mitch in 2000. The old city was considered to be in a zone of risk for the future, so the government took a part of Nahualá territory and gave it to the Ixtahuacán refugees. They were basically starting out with nothing, so the government decided to give them a hand with infrastructure. A lot of the houses look the same because they were government-sponsored. They’re all whitewashed buildings made of cinderblock and cement with orange corrugated roofs (I’m not sure what the material is).
The first thing I saw as we arrived at the entrance of Nueva Ixtahuacán was a large construction crane and a pile of building materials. That picture is a pretty good symbol of Nueva generally. Under construction. Sections of houses in some neighborhoods are still being built. People are adding on to what the government gave them (my host family, for example). The Catholic church is still in the building stages. Also, culturally Nueva is changing. The old city was dominated by catholicism, but evangelical and pentecostal churches have taken the opportunity to extablish themselves both physically in actual buildings and idealogically in the new city. Not everyone from the old city moved to Nueva. I get the feeling that the ones most deeply entrenched in tradition stayed in Antigua. I’m surprised at how open to change the people I’ve met here in Nueva are. Maybe that’s a naive perspective after only 3 weeks. I can see why it’s recommended that most serious cultural anthropologists stay for at least 6 months to a year in the place they are studying. I feel like I’ll barely be starting to scratch the social and cultural surface of Nueva by August. *sigh! *
The longer I’m here, the more I realize that Nueva Ixtahuacán is a ‘bodaciously small town’ (name that movie... I know Cari can... here’s another hint: ‘I could be at home right now drinking this monster eggnog my brother makes with lighter fluid...’). Like I mentioned a couple weeks ago, Nueva Ixtahuacán is called ‘nueva’ (new) because it was built to replace the Ixtahuacán destroyed by hurricane Mitch in 2000. The old city was considered to be in a zone of risk for the future, so the government took a part of Nahualá territory and gave it to the Ixtahuacán refugees. They were basically starting out with nothing, so the government decided to give them a hand with infrastructure. A lot of the houses look the same because they were government-sponsored. They’re all whitewashed buildings made of cinderblock and cement with orange corrugated roofs (I’m not sure what the material is).
The first thing I saw as we arrived at the entrance of Nueva Ixtahuacán was a large construction crane and a pile of building materials. That picture is a pretty good symbol of Nueva generally. Under construction. Sections of houses in some neighborhoods are still being built. People are adding on to what the government gave them (my host family, for example). The Catholic church is still in the building stages. Also, culturally Nueva is changing. The old city was dominated by catholicism, but evangelical and pentecostal churches have taken the opportunity to extablish themselves both physically in actual buildings and idealogically in the new city. Not everyone from the old city moved to Nueva. I get the feeling that the ones most deeply entrenched in tradition stayed in Antigua. I’m surprised at how open to change the people I’ve met here in Nueva are. Maybe that’s a naive perspective after only 3 weeks. I can see why it’s recommended that most serious cultural anthropologists stay for at least 6 months to a year in the place they are studying. I feel like I’ll barely be starting to scratch the social and cultural surface of Nueva by August. *sigh! *
Well, this was a fairly adventurous week. To start with, the bed at the hotel we stayed at in Xela had fleas. I’ve managed to get long-term fleas in every foreign country I’ve lived in so far (ok, minus Canada, but I was only there for a week...), so I wasn’t very excited to get ‘em again. For anyone who hasn’t had fleas, let me compare a flea bite to a mosquito bite. And times it by about 2 or 3 (or maybe 10) as far as intensity of itchiness. And put the bites in much more awkward places (unlike mosquitoes, fleas can crawl...). Not real pleasant. I wasn’t looking forward to dealing with stow-aways. So the night I returned from Xela, I told Manuela I had fleas and that I would hang all my clothes on the line tomorrow when it was sunny to get rid of them (it didn’t work in Ecuador, but hey, it was worth a shot!). She said the cold would probably do it and that I should hang them out right then. So I did. And it rained that night. On pretty much all my clothes, including the new sweaters I just bought. And the sun didn’t shine all that day. So I dried a couple sweaters (mostly) by the fire the next morning and wore them for a couple of days until everything else dried out. Silly alPop! What was I THINKING leaving anything on the line unattended?... Oh, well. No new flea bites though, so it was worth it, I say.
On Tuesday I started classroom observations at the local elementary school. I briefly explained my project to one of the 4th grade teachers and asked permission to sit in the back. She agreed. It was recess at the time, so I found a seat at the back of the room and started taking notes about the physical classroom. 3 boys were in the room and took interest in the big blond at the back (I’m tall for Guatemala... but especially for an elementary school in Guatemala...). They slowly made their way back to where I was sitting and stood about 4 feet away, facing me silently. When I looked up from my notebook they averted their eyes and started poking each other. Hmm. Let’s break the ice, shall we? I asked one of them what his name was. There was a moment of silence as they stared at me like deer at a headlight. One jumped behind his friend, pointed at him and said “Santiago,” then ran out of the room. The other two moved away, but made their way back to gawk as I turned back to my notes. Geesh, do I really look THAT weird?! Apparently so, because a group of 5 girls entered the room next, and as soon as I caught their eye, they started staring and pointing. They, too, made their way to the back of the room to get a better look. I tried to play nonchalant and kept writing until they were about 2 feet away, then looked up to meet their stare. I told them my name and asked a few getting-to-know-you questions and got a few hesitant answers from brave kids. The crowd circling me grew as more students arrived from recess. One girl finally spoke up and asked if I was married. I think marriage indicates status to a large degree in this culture, because it’s always one of the first questions I get from pretty much everyone here. Anyway, it was both awkward and entertaining to experience their curiosity.
That was Tuesday. Wednesday there was an earthquake somewhere in Guatemala (I’m still not sure if it was in Guatemala City or somewhere off the coast... everyone tells me something different). About 6.8 on the Richter scale, they say. I was sitting on my bed typing up field notes when it struck. I could feel the bed shake and wondered if perhaps I was having a dizzy spell, as I have been wont to have in the past, especially with large changes in air pressure. Anyhow, it only lasted maybe a minute and wasn’t very strong. Some of my fellow ethnographers didn’t even feel it. I hope other places in Guatemala are OK, though.
Thursday was a sunny day, and it was Sports Day at the elementary school, so I went to watch the soccer matches and interact with students. And forgot to put on sunscreen. Man, I’m red. I’ve got 2 possible skin colors – red and white. No bronze in between, just one or the other. So I guess I’ve got 2 options in Guatemala – skin cancer or seasonal affective disorder ;) . It was a lot of fun, and I made a few friends (who also asked whether I was married, among about a bazillion other questions... ah, 5th graders...). Another anthropology student (whom we affectionately dub “Energizer Bunny”) had managed to put together a cheer squad among enthusiastic 6th graders 2 days prior, and they cheered at the soccer match. I had the privelege of helping the girls at the top of the pyramid keep their balance as we took pictures. I’ll post a copy if I get a chance...
Friday it didn’t rain at all, which is practically a miracle as far as I’m concerned. Saturday made up for it by raining all day. But it was a good day. I got to watch a boot-leg copy of Pirates III. It was dubbed over in Spanish, and the sound was horrible, but eh, what can you do? 2.5 hours of Orlando Bloom is worth it, I say ;)... I also went to two birthday parties. Combine that with clubbing last weekend in Xela, and I’m turning into a regular party animal here. (It had been a really, really long time since I’d been clubbing, and now I know why I waited so long... large crowds of noisy people... strobe lights streaming through clouds of tobacco... strange people touching me every few seconds... yechhhh! I’m starting to think I’m my father’s daughter or something...) A son and a son-in-law in my host family just had birthdays, and they decided to celebrate it at the same time they had the Catholic pastor come by to bless the house. That was an awesome experience. I haven’t had a chance to go to mass yet. I’ll have to do that. My host dad and brother wrote songs on the guitar for the birthday boys, and they also had us gringas sing “Happy Birthday” in English. Then they brought out the cake with abundant frosting and, as is customary in these parts, had the lucky guys take the first bite of the cake before they cut it (or in other words, they shoved their heads into the frosting... hey, it beats the spanking machine...).
Sunday I got to go to the LDS church in Nahualá for the first time. They spoke Spanche’ (streams of words in both Spanish and K’iche’), which made things interesting. I’m to the point where I recognize isolated words in K’iche, but I still struggle putting them in context. The hymns and scriptures are in Spanish, and wherever a K’iche word doesn’t exist or is inconvenient, they throw in Spanish. At least I could understand part of what they were saying. It’s too bad I live too far away to attend activities during the week. I’d love to get to know some of the members better. As it turns out, one of my fellow students lives with the Relief Society president there in Nahualá.
Well, this is getting pretty dang long, so I’ll end here and continue in a different post.
Your mangy, flea-bitten, sun-bleached lobster,
AlPop
On Tuesday I started classroom observations at the local elementary school. I briefly explained my project to one of the 4th grade teachers and asked permission to sit in the back. She agreed. It was recess at the time, so I found a seat at the back of the room and started taking notes about the physical classroom. 3 boys were in the room and took interest in the big blond at the back (I’m tall for Guatemala... but especially for an elementary school in Guatemala...). They slowly made their way back to where I was sitting and stood about 4 feet away, facing me silently. When I looked up from my notebook they averted their eyes and started poking each other. Hmm. Let’s break the ice, shall we? I asked one of them what his name was. There was a moment of silence as they stared at me like deer at a headlight. One jumped behind his friend, pointed at him and said “Santiago,” then ran out of the room. The other two moved away, but made their way back to gawk as I turned back to my notes. Geesh, do I really look THAT weird?! Apparently so, because a group of 5 girls entered the room next, and as soon as I caught their eye, they started staring and pointing. They, too, made their way to the back of the room to get a better look. I tried to play nonchalant and kept writing until they were about 2 feet away, then looked up to meet their stare. I told them my name and asked a few getting-to-know-you questions and got a few hesitant answers from brave kids. The crowd circling me grew as more students arrived from recess. One girl finally spoke up and asked if I was married. I think marriage indicates status to a large degree in this culture, because it’s always one of the first questions I get from pretty much everyone here. Anyway, it was both awkward and entertaining to experience their curiosity.
That was Tuesday. Wednesday there was an earthquake somewhere in Guatemala (I’m still not sure if it was in Guatemala City or somewhere off the coast... everyone tells me something different). About 6.8 on the Richter scale, they say. I was sitting on my bed typing up field notes when it struck. I could feel the bed shake and wondered if perhaps I was having a dizzy spell, as I have been wont to have in the past, especially with large changes in air pressure. Anyhow, it only lasted maybe a minute and wasn’t very strong. Some of my fellow ethnographers didn’t even feel it. I hope other places in Guatemala are OK, though.
Thursday was a sunny day, and it was Sports Day at the elementary school, so I went to watch the soccer matches and interact with students. And forgot to put on sunscreen. Man, I’m red. I’ve got 2 possible skin colors – red and white. No bronze in between, just one or the other. So I guess I’ve got 2 options in Guatemala – skin cancer or seasonal affective disorder ;) . It was a lot of fun, and I made a few friends (who also asked whether I was married, among about a bazillion other questions... ah, 5th graders...). Another anthropology student (whom we affectionately dub “Energizer Bunny”) had managed to put together a cheer squad among enthusiastic 6th graders 2 days prior, and they cheered at the soccer match. I had the privelege of helping the girls at the top of the pyramid keep their balance as we took pictures. I’ll post a copy if I get a chance...
Friday it didn’t rain at all, which is practically a miracle as far as I’m concerned. Saturday made up for it by raining all day. But it was a good day. I got to watch a boot-leg copy of Pirates III. It was dubbed over in Spanish, and the sound was horrible, but eh, what can you do? 2.5 hours of Orlando Bloom is worth it, I say ;)... I also went to two birthday parties. Combine that with clubbing last weekend in Xela, and I’m turning into a regular party animal here. (It had been a really, really long time since I’d been clubbing, and now I know why I waited so long... large crowds of noisy people... strobe lights streaming through clouds of tobacco... strange people touching me every few seconds... yechhhh! I’m starting to think I’m my father’s daughter or something...) A son and a son-in-law in my host family just had birthdays, and they decided to celebrate it at the same time they had the Catholic pastor come by to bless the house. That was an awesome experience. I haven’t had a chance to go to mass yet. I’ll have to do that. My host dad and brother wrote songs on the guitar for the birthday boys, and they also had us gringas sing “Happy Birthday” in English. Then they brought out the cake with abundant frosting and, as is customary in these parts, had the lucky guys take the first bite of the cake before they cut it (or in other words, they shoved their heads into the frosting... hey, it beats the spanking machine...).
Sunday I got to go to the LDS church in Nahualá for the first time. They spoke Spanche’ (streams of words in both Spanish and K’iche’), which made things interesting. I’m to the point where I recognize isolated words in K’iche, but I still struggle putting them in context. The hymns and scriptures are in Spanish, and wherever a K’iche word doesn’t exist or is inconvenient, they throw in Spanish. At least I could understand part of what they were saying. It’s too bad I live too far away to attend activities during the week. I’d love to get to know some of the members better. As it turns out, one of my fellow students lives with the Relief Society president there in Nahualá.
Well, this is getting pretty dang long, so I’ll end here and continue in a different post.
Your mangy, flea-bitten, sun-bleached lobster,
AlPop
09 June 2007
This is a view of Nueva Ixtahuacán from the milpas (corn fields) nearby. 
These are pics from the University of San Marcos, which we visited today while we were in Xela. We talked to a professor who has been studying our communities for the past long while. It was really helpful to get some historical background!Che Guevara is really, really big in this city.
(and Siggy and I have always been real tight...)
It’ll do all your hearts good to know I’m almost completely well from my little bout with Montezuma’s Revenge. Interestingly, as soon as I started to get better, the sun came out all day for 2 days straight. I was craving it. One of my fellow students became violently ill a couple of days ago due to a hot chocolate that we both had tried, and she had to go to the hospital in Xela for treatment. Luckily, I was still on antibiotics from my first infection, so it didn’t affect me. I figured hot chocolate would be OK because they boil the water to make it. Hmm. That’s the last time I eat ANYTHING non-pre-packaged off the street! I know, I know... call me crazy... I’m just not a big fan of dysentery...
Things are moving along with my project. As it turns out, my topic is a pretty big issue right now in the community. Parental involvement in education doesn’t exist formally, and there is a bit of tension between teachers and parents. I’ve been able to interview a few people so far and am anxious to talk to more. We’ve been going over the ethics of this type of research in our Monday class, and I guess it’s not real great to talk about my project publicly, so I can’t go into detail. But things are going well. And I am learning all the joys of ethnographic research, including the uber-joy of transcribing interviews. For anyone who hasn’t tried it, a 1-hour interview can take around 6 hours to transcribe. Huzzah for the shorter route of summary indexes! They only take 2 or 3 hours per hour on tape.
Every other weekend, we give our host families (and the rest of the community) a break by skipping town. This weekend we’re in Xela (or Quetzaltenango for short). It’s the same place I went when I got sick, but this time I get to enjoy it. There are a lot of things I’m looking forward to doing in Xela. Using the internet... using indoor plumbing... buying things you can’t usually find in Nueva... Like several sweaters. It’s amazing how far one jacket DOESN’T go when it rains every day...
Nueva Ixtahuacán is a small community with a market of 4 stores, no internet, and really temperamental weather, but I really am starting to love it here. I got a bit homesick for several days while I was under the weather, but my appreciation for this community is growing. I really enjoy talking with my host mom. She is quiet most of the time like me, but she has a great sense of humor and a smile that transforms her whole face. Xoqlin likes to make fun of my language skills, but she laughs at my jokes, too, so there you go... The air is pure (albeit thin at 9300 feet), the corn farms all around are a beautiful green, and you really can’t beat the view from the top of the mountain. And I get great cell phone reception. Yes, folks, I have a cell phone. And you can call it. My number is 502-5126-1146. I hear you can find phone cards with great rates for Guatemala at your local Latino store, or even online. The time is the same here as it is in Utah. Yes, that is a hint for you, Mochi-chan...
All my love,
AlPop
Things are moving along with my project. As it turns out, my topic is a pretty big issue right now in the community. Parental involvement in education doesn’t exist formally, and there is a bit of tension between teachers and parents. I’ve been able to interview a few people so far and am anxious to talk to more. We’ve been going over the ethics of this type of research in our Monday class, and I guess it’s not real great to talk about my project publicly, so I can’t go into detail. But things are going well. And I am learning all the joys of ethnographic research, including the uber-joy of transcribing interviews. For anyone who hasn’t tried it, a 1-hour interview can take around 6 hours to transcribe. Huzzah for the shorter route of summary indexes! They only take 2 or 3 hours per hour on tape.
Every other weekend, we give our host families (and the rest of the community) a break by skipping town. This weekend we’re in Xela (or Quetzaltenango for short). It’s the same place I went when I got sick, but this time I get to enjoy it. There are a lot of things I’m looking forward to doing in Xela. Using the internet... using indoor plumbing... buying things you can’t usually find in Nueva... Like several sweaters. It’s amazing how far one jacket DOESN’T go when it rains every day...
Nueva Ixtahuacán is a small community with a market of 4 stores, no internet, and really temperamental weather, but I really am starting to love it here. I got a bit homesick for several days while I was under the weather, but my appreciation for this community is growing. I really enjoy talking with my host mom. She is quiet most of the time like me, but she has a great sense of humor and a smile that transforms her whole face. Xoqlin likes to make fun of my language skills, but she laughs at my jokes, too, so there you go... The air is pure (albeit thin at 9300 feet), the corn farms all around are a beautiful green, and you really can’t beat the view from the top of the mountain. And I get great cell phone reception. Yes, folks, I have a cell phone. And you can call it. My number is 502-5126-1146. I hear you can find phone cards with great rates for Guatemala at your local Latino store, or even online. The time is the same here as it is in Utah. Yes, that is a hint for you, Mochi-chan...
All my love,
AlPop
03 June 2007
Things are going well in Guatemala so far. I live with a great host family. Manuela and Xwan (say Shwan) have been married for 30 years and have 6 children, one of which (Xoqlin, say Shoak-leen) is still living with them. They all speak pretty good Spanish, so I am able to communicate with them pretty well. They speak K’iche to each other, but they say they’re happy to help me learn the language. Xoqlin is 10 years old and is a sweetheart. The family lives in Nueva (New) Ixtahuacan (say Eesh-tah-wah-con’). They used to live in Antigua (Old) Ixtahuacan, but Hurricane Mitch wiped that town out in 2000, so they built this one to replace it. Don’t worry, Mom, hurricanes don’t normally reach the highlands. Manuela cooks 3 meals a day revolving around corn tortillas – often beans and rice or soup. To drink, she usually gives me atol, a corn drink. It’s pretty cold in the highlands, and it’s definitely rainy season. It gets into the 70s in the daytime and into the 40s at night. I LOVE my sleeping bag – it keeps me toasty (thanks, Dad!). Nueva Ixtahuacan is about 9300 feet above sea level. There are 4 students in this community and 4 in the next community down the mountain, Nahuala (say Nah-wah-lah’). The other student from BYU is in Nahuala, but I’ll probably see her Sundays because that’s where the closest LDS church is. By the way, I thought before I left that I´d be rotating communities, but it looks like I´ll be staying in Nueva Ixtahuacan the whole time (yay!).
The house we live in is a lot nicer than I expected. It’s got tile floors and glass windows and a mattress and electricity. Most houses are made of cinderblock and cement. And most “houses” are mainly for sleeping. On each property, there are generally a few structures – the house, the kitchen, the bathroom/washing area, and the tuj. The kitchen structure has a wood frame with walls and ceiling of corrugated metal, with 2 translucent ceiling tiles of corrugated plastic to let light in during the day. It’s 25x40 feet, and everyone’s favorite area is the stove this time of year. It’s a wood-burning stove about 3 or 4 feet high with a broad metal panel over the flames for cooking and a pipe that leads most of the smoke outside. The first few days my eyes stung after a while from the smoke that stays in the room, but I think they’re getting used to it. The restroom facility is much nicer than I expected. Well, I guess I was expecting a latrine. We have a flushing toilet! It’s in a 3-foot square wooden cubicle across the courtyard, so I have to bundle up at night to use the potty. There is a stack of squares cut out of newspaper to wipe with (although corn husks are not uncommon, I hear), and a small bucket to deposit it once it’s used (you can’t flush TP here). I still have the travel roll of TP I got in my stocking for Christmas (thanks, Santa...).
I had my first bath in the tuj (say tookh) on Wednesday. A tuj is a type of sauna that most families have. It’s about 5x5x5 feet and made of cinderblocks with a mud roof (although traditionally, they’re made entirely of adobe). On one side is a set of volcanic rocks, under which a wood fire is lit and allowed to burn down to coals. There is also a large pot of water placed inside while the fire is going, which boils and creates steam. Most of the smoke escapes, but it stays nice and hot and steamy inside. Once the fire becomes coals, another pot of cold water is placed inside, with a smaller empty pot and a bowl. On the other side of the tuj is a slab of wood and a candle (because it’s very dark). To bathe, a person of my size curls into fetal position and waddles in the 3-foot high entrance, pulls the cloth door shut, and sits on the slab of wood. Then take the bowl and mix hot and cold water in the empty pot until you find a good temperature. Use the bowl as a dipper and bathe. If you want more steam, throw some water on the rocks. Then make sure you don’t bump your head or back on the ceiling or door jamb on the way out, ‘cuz they’ll leave black soot all over your life.
I had a bout with Montezuma´s revenge on Thursday. Upset stomach and a weak, shaky feeling for the most part. (OK, so that´s putting it mildly, but I´ll spare you the gory details) I got cozy with my friend Pepto and slept a lot, felt worse the next day, and went to see a doctor in Quetzaltenango (called Xela – say Shay-lah – in Maya languages), and I´m on the mend now.
Manuela takes good care of me here. She let me help make tortillas for dinner the other day. The dough is shaped by hand rather than using a press. It’s an art, I tell you. And I have not yet mastered it. I don’t know how she keeps the dough from sticking to her hands and falling to pieces. She also showed me how to wash clothes (because I asked her to). I was misinformed about the river rocks. There is no river here. But there is a basin about 3.5 feet by 2.5 feet by 2 or 3 inches high, and she showed me how to use the round cylinders of soap to wash. It’s still a pretty rough process. There are several lines in the yard to hang clothes on to dry. But it’s rainy season (it’s rained for at least part of the day every day since I arrived), and it’s cold, so it takes a long time to dry.
We’ll introduce ourselves at the school pretty soon and start interviewing. For now, we’re practicing taking very descriptive field notes on what is going on around us. It’s a long process – I take notes and jottings in a book as I walk around during the day time and type them up in paragraph form on a laptop when I get home for the evening. The program let us choose to either bring our own laptops or to use the ones they have here. Since I loathe traveling with a laptop, I opted for the program option. I figured it can’t be much older than the laptop I would have taken with me, which uses Windows 98. I was wrong. This one uses Windows 95. It has no USB port and no CD ROM drive. It’s an IBM ThinkPad. But it runs, and the battery works for when the electricity shuts off (at random times in the day, for a few hours at a time). It’s got character. The keyboard was formatted weird when I first started using it, so that most of the non-letter keys typed something other than what they were labeled with. I’m not sure how, but I managed to fix that after tinkering for a bit. There is no internet access here in Nueva, so I get to check my email once a week or so when I come down to Nahuala for either church or class. We have class once a week to touch on research methods and to go over our projects’ progress with the professor. He lives here and is working at a business, so we don’t see him often, but we can contact him by cell phone if ever we need something. We also have a field facilitator – another student who has been on the program before and has come back to both continue her research and to help us out when we greenies need it. She’s awesome. I feel pretty safe in Nueva. I went walking through the town in the morning and early afternoon for a few days, and people are very friendly. Everyone greets everyone – even the gringa – and several people have already approached me to ask what I’m doing in the community (in a nice way). I do get startled stares from the occasional child who has never seen a blond before. And there is one little girl who, whenever she sees me, shouts “Gringo, gringo, gringo” and laughs. Eh, I have to admit, I do look pretty funny considering my surroundings. I wear pants, a thermal shirt, a hooded jacket, and hiking boots (it’s too cold for this bobsicle to wear Chacos most of the time). Except at the municipal building, I haven’t seen any women who weren’t wearing the traditional skirt and blouse with sandals. When it’s cold, they put on a many-colored blanket (Manuela ties hers around the neck as a cape). So yeah, I stand out. The other 7 researchers also stand out in their dress, but they all are of Latino descent, so I’m the only blond with blue eyes around.
Well, that´s all I have time to write for now. Looks like I´ll have internet access about once a week or so, so I´ll try to post weekly. Have a great day, and try not to miss me too much ;).
The house we live in is a lot nicer than I expected. It’s got tile floors and glass windows and a mattress and electricity. Most houses are made of cinderblock and cement. And most “houses” are mainly for sleeping. On each property, there are generally a few structures – the house, the kitchen, the bathroom/washing area, and the tuj. The kitchen structure has a wood frame with walls and ceiling of corrugated metal, with 2 translucent ceiling tiles of corrugated plastic to let light in during the day. It’s 25x40 feet, and everyone’s favorite area is the stove this time of year. It’s a wood-burning stove about 3 or 4 feet high with a broad metal panel over the flames for cooking and a pipe that leads most of the smoke outside. The first few days my eyes stung after a while from the smoke that stays in the room, but I think they’re getting used to it. The restroom facility is much nicer than I expected. Well, I guess I was expecting a latrine. We have a flushing toilet! It’s in a 3-foot square wooden cubicle across the courtyard, so I have to bundle up at night to use the potty. There is a stack of squares cut out of newspaper to wipe with (although corn husks are not uncommon, I hear), and a small bucket to deposit it once it’s used (you can’t flush TP here). I still have the travel roll of TP I got in my stocking for Christmas (thanks, Santa...).
I had my first bath in the tuj (say tookh) on Wednesday. A tuj is a type of sauna that most families have. It’s about 5x5x5 feet and made of cinderblocks with a mud roof (although traditionally, they’re made entirely of adobe). On one side is a set of volcanic rocks, under which a wood fire is lit and allowed to burn down to coals. There is also a large pot of water placed inside while the fire is going, which boils and creates steam. Most of the smoke escapes, but it stays nice and hot and steamy inside. Once the fire becomes coals, another pot of cold water is placed inside, with a smaller empty pot and a bowl. On the other side of the tuj is a slab of wood and a candle (because it’s very dark). To bathe, a person of my size curls into fetal position and waddles in the 3-foot high entrance, pulls the cloth door shut, and sits on the slab of wood. Then take the bowl and mix hot and cold water in the empty pot until you find a good temperature. Use the bowl as a dipper and bathe. If you want more steam, throw some water on the rocks. Then make sure you don’t bump your head or back on the ceiling or door jamb on the way out, ‘cuz they’ll leave black soot all over your life.
I had a bout with Montezuma´s revenge on Thursday. Upset stomach and a weak, shaky feeling for the most part. (OK, so that´s putting it mildly, but I´ll spare you the gory details) I got cozy with my friend Pepto and slept a lot, felt worse the next day, and went to see a doctor in Quetzaltenango (called Xela – say Shay-lah – in Maya languages), and I´m on the mend now.
Manuela takes good care of me here. She let me help make tortillas for dinner the other day. The dough is shaped by hand rather than using a press. It’s an art, I tell you. And I have not yet mastered it. I don’t know how she keeps the dough from sticking to her hands and falling to pieces. She also showed me how to wash clothes (because I asked her to). I was misinformed about the river rocks. There is no river here. But there is a basin about 3.5 feet by 2.5 feet by 2 or 3 inches high, and she showed me how to use the round cylinders of soap to wash. It’s still a pretty rough process. There are several lines in the yard to hang clothes on to dry. But it’s rainy season (it’s rained for at least part of the day every day since I arrived), and it’s cold, so it takes a long time to dry.
We’ll introduce ourselves at the school pretty soon and start interviewing. For now, we’re practicing taking very descriptive field notes on what is going on around us. It’s a long process – I take notes and jottings in a book as I walk around during the day time and type them up in paragraph form on a laptop when I get home for the evening. The program let us choose to either bring our own laptops or to use the ones they have here. Since I loathe traveling with a laptop, I opted for the program option. I figured it can’t be much older than the laptop I would have taken with me, which uses Windows 98. I was wrong. This one uses Windows 95. It has no USB port and no CD ROM drive. It’s an IBM ThinkPad. But it runs, and the battery works for when the electricity shuts off (at random times in the day, for a few hours at a time). It’s got character. The keyboard was formatted weird when I first started using it, so that most of the non-letter keys typed something other than what they were labeled with. I’m not sure how, but I managed to fix that after tinkering for a bit. There is no internet access here in Nueva, so I get to check my email once a week or so when I come down to Nahuala for either church or class. We have class once a week to touch on research methods and to go over our projects’ progress with the professor. He lives here and is working at a business, so we don’t see him often, but we can contact him by cell phone if ever we need something. We also have a field facilitator – another student who has been on the program before and has come back to both continue her research and to help us out when we greenies need it. She’s awesome. I feel pretty safe in Nueva. I went walking through the town in the morning and early afternoon for a few days, and people are very friendly. Everyone greets everyone – even the gringa – and several people have already approached me to ask what I’m doing in the community (in a nice way). I do get startled stares from the occasional child who has never seen a blond before. And there is one little girl who, whenever she sees me, shouts “Gringo, gringo, gringo” and laughs. Eh, I have to admit, I do look pretty funny considering my surroundings. I wear pants, a thermal shirt, a hooded jacket, and hiking boots (it’s too cold for this bobsicle to wear Chacos most of the time). Except at the municipal building, I haven’t seen any women who weren’t wearing the traditional skirt and blouse with sandals. When it’s cold, they put on a many-colored blanket (Manuela ties hers around the neck as a cape). So yeah, I stand out. The other 7 researchers also stand out in their dress, but they all are of Latino descent, so I’m the only blond with blue eyes around.
Well, that´s all I have time to write for now. Looks like I´ll have internet access about once a week or so, so I´ll try to post weekly. Have a great day, and try not to miss me too much ;).
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