Arrival in Guatemala

Sergio’s sister, Andrea, and her boyfriend, Venicio, picked me up at the airport. Instead of taking a bus to the city of Quetzaltenango , I got the VIP treatment of door to door service. They greeted me with kisses and smiles. They are a cute young couple, she being only 18 and he, 24. The relationship is very new and as they make conversation with me, they flirt and play games with each other the whole way there. They are at the honeymoon stage; excited, happy, not a care in the world, which honestly just makes me want to vomit, more so out of jealousy because I wish I was there again; falling in love. The ride up the mountain to the city is beautiful; filled with green, rolling mountains, fields of corn, and your occasional restaurant and roadside stand where you can buy a cup of hot, atol or an ear of corn from a Mayan family. Atol is a creamy, sweet, corn drink. Though I didn’t think I would enjoy drinking corn, it was quite tasty.

When I reached the house, Sergio’s mom, grandmother and youngest sister, Gabby, welcomed me. I was exhausted from the trip and all I wanted to do was unpack and sleep. Before doing so I used the bathroom, completely forgetting that you can’t throw toilet paper in the toilets, you have to put all paper in the trash. “Shit” I said, flushing the toilet anyway praying for some odd reason, it will go down at least this once...but it didnt. For fear I will ruin the whole plumbing system, I quickly reach into the toilet and pull out my used toilet paper(Gross!)…followed by a thorough hand washing.

The next day, I went to the school, Proyecto Linguistico Quetzalteco, to meet with the director, Carlos. Carlos and the teachers were very happy to see me and to finally have a permanent student coordinator for the school. For months the school has been working with varias people filling in. He put me right to work and asked if I could translate a workshop in the afternoon. “I can try” I told him knowing that I would probably struggle in front of everyone especially being that the topic was about land reform and politics in Guatemala. There is nothing like some good old fashion embarassment to break you into the job. There´s a lot of difficult vocab in that subject. Needless to say, in front of the class, I fumbled a lot and at times said “Sorry I don´t understand.” The merciful, more advanced Spanish speaking students in the audience helped translate the conference.

In the afternoon, I met my friend Willy and we walked to café La Luna for hot chocolate. I met Willy two years ago in Guatemala when he gave a conference at the school on the status of Guatemala immigrants in the US . He is filled with historical and political knowledge. Willy is the epitome of an activist and human rights organizer. So much so that when I asked him if he had a girlfriend, he told me “No, Guatemala is my girlfriend and I want her to be divorced from the oppression husband she is with.” And though he was married to a US citizen for 10 years he refused to become a citizen himself in protest to the US government and their participation in the repression and violence bestowed upon the indigenous people of Guatemala . He is an activist and leader in both Guatemala and across the US , organizing people and working for the economic, social, and political development of Guatemala. Aside from years of work that accumilate to a list too large to write, he recently started the organization----- and is currently working on 8 different projects in Guatemala, mostly targeted at youth groups. ---- mission is to create economic development by building an international network of community-run cooperatives in Guatemala , provide work-skills for Guatemalan immigrants in the US and to educate the American consumer interested in Fair-Trade and Organic principles. After we drank hot chocolate, he proudly showed me the new office. For about an hour he shared with me a brief history of his life story. He is brilliant, witty, and kind but in the depths of his eyes it is evident that he is heavily burdened and plagued by the horror, war, death, fear, and untold stories that live inside him. For a moment, any pain or sadness I’ve ever felt seemed like a simple, pinch in the arm. It was no surprise when he said he has trouble sleeping every night.

Later on in the evening he said ¨Tiana, I´m going to help you with your Spanish.” (He went to the conference and witnessed my first attempt at translating) I was very excited about his offer to help with my Spanish and wanted to offer something in return. I told him “I can help you cry… like help release some of the stress you carry.” He said “Yes, that’s a good idea; I think you were sent here to help me with that."

I end the day with a late dinner at the home of my former host family; Carmen, Hector and their two daughters Cecy (18 years old) and Maria Jose (10 years old). We laugh the whole night, recapping the times I used to live with them. Our dinner consisted of eggs, beans, platenos, and bread. Carmen assured me that she would be calling me to come over for dinner often and that I am welcomed to come over anytime. "Come take a shower, take a nap, or visit" She said. The family also told me they had no problem kicking out their current guest if I should want to live with them again.