Friday, October 15, 2010

Mine

Early last month Veronica brought baby Mia into the world. The name is a variant of Maria and also means "mine" in Spanish. It was one of the names I suggested during our little naming game in August that you may remember me writing about. When the bun was still in the oven I would always part with Veronica by saying, Hasta mañana, Vero" (until tomorrow, Vero (short for Veronica)), then waive to her stomach and say, "hasta mañana, Mia". When I first went to go visit the baby I asked what name Veronica had given her and she said, "We gave her the name Mia, a little remembrance of Annalisa." I was flattered.

A few weeks after Veronica gave birth to Mia, Eslin confided in me that she too was now pregnant. As has become customary prenatal chit-chat, yesterday Eslin, Brenda and I were talking names on the stoop of Eslin's tienda. I suggested Isabela. Eslin replied by saying, "Isabela, Isabela, I like it. I'm not going to tell anyone though, this name is mine."

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Salinas. Take two.

The last week of September we saw six straight days of nonstop rain and, of course, Casas Viejas flooded once again. I was beginning to think we should rename the town to Casas Mojadas (wet houses) but then remarkably on Tuesday the rain stopped. Everyone in my town is convinced that "ya se fue la lluvia" (the rain has left) and summer is now upon us.

With summer comes sunshine and with sunshine comes the salt harvest season. On Friday the Cooperative had a meeting to discuss what will become of our salina this year. Since we are still paying off debts from last year's harvest, going into the meeting I was prepared to convince the socios that we need not go into another year hastily. I discussed with them the importance of planning and mentioned that if we aren't going to work the salinas we need to start investigating what we can do with the land and equipment- assets that we could rent to make back some of our investment. After my little spiel, Toribio, the secretary, did a vote to see who wanted to invest in the salinas another year. Four socios voted affirmatively.

Then to my delight Julio proposed an ingenious idea. He suggested that the Cooperative rent out the salina to the four socios who wanted to work the land. These socios would pay the Cooperative a set amount for the land, boards and nylon, a fee that the cooperative could then use to pay off the salinas debts. The socios who work the salina would be responsible for additional investments (gasoline, purchasing a new motor, etc), and supplying the labor. They would also reap any profits from sales. A huge benefit to this proposal is that the Coop would be guaranteed income. It also hands over the responsibility of the salinas to those few who actually want to work the land.

One of the biggest problems with the salinas last year was that no one wanted to work them. We lagged in prepping the land and lost weeks of harvesting time because the socios didn’t show up to help lay and mend the nylons. When the land was finally ready, we hired outside labor to harvest the salt. The point of a cooperative is to provide work for its associates. I never understood why we were paying a nonmember for labor- money that left the cooperative and benefited no socio. With this new system the four socios will be motivated to work because they will be putting their own money into the salina and will be forced to do a better job of managing the business. It puts the onus on them to make a profit. Brilliant. The four socios have until the 21st of October to decide if they are going to rent the land. If they do, I will be able to work with them on business planning, organizing, managing and finding buyers.

Friday, September 17, 2010

That Time of Year

I knew it was that time of year again when I started hearing my neighbor kids practicing Beethoven's “Ode to Joy” and the theme song from “Titanic” on their school issued plastic recorders. To me the recorder playing signals the eminent arrival of Independence Day, or as I refer to it, Independence Week. A few weeks ago when I heard kids hitting off key notes around town it immediately made me think back to my host sister Lidia in Alotenango. She too practiced the recorder around this same time and then it dawned on me that I have been here long enough to start noticing yearly seasonal and cultural patterns. It kinda makes Guatemala feel a little bit more like home.

This Independence Week played out much like it did last year. Parades, running of the torcha, fireworks etc. The first activity I participated in was the crowing of this year’s “Señorita Independencia.” You’ll remember from my last post that we had a few beauty pageants in town recently- none of which was used to decide on the Independence Day Queen. Nope, there is no judging when it comes to choosing the Queen it’s done democratically through public voting. But remember, we are in Guatemala so instead of casting a ballot, you cast your vote (or votes) in currency. The girl with the most “votes” or “queztales” is crowned queen. In other words, its really just a test to see who’s parents love their little girl enough (and have the means) to fork over a few hundred Q’s to win her that sash and crown. Democracy Guatemalan style.

One other new activity for me this year was the singing of the national anthem. I guess last year I missed this but no fear, I got my fill this year. I went to a total of three Independence Day activities at the local schools, each of which started with the National Anthem. First, at the crowning of the “Señorita Independencia”, kids lined up in front of the stage and sang along with a recorded version of kids singing the anthem. To me it was a bit awkward - I felt like I was watching a lip-sync contest without the enthusiasm. Second, at the “Premaria” or elementary school activity the director of the school must have been embarrassed about the previous Milli Vanilliesque anthem performance and made a BIG deal about having everyone sing the anthem a cappella. He even insisted that the vendors stop selling food while the anthem proceedings were underway. To Americans this may seem like standard procedure, but then again our national anthem isn’t ten minutes long. Yes folks, I think the Guatemalan anthem might be the longest in the world- its like a marathon- I agree vendors should stop selling but only because they should be passing out gatorade to quell exhaustion from undertaking the venture. Jokes aside, I was pleasantly surprised by the publics performance sans recording. Almost everyone knew all of the words, or did a good job of faking it.

I’m going to leave you with some wonderful sights and sounds of the Independence Day hoopla. Viva Guatemala!





Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Pageant, Flood, Pageant, Flood, Pageant

I'm beginning to believe there is a correlation between beauty pageants and torrential downpour. Someone needs to inform Guatemala that the gods feel they are the only ones capable of judging human beauty.

August 18th Senorita Revista beauty pageant


August 18th-20th Torrential downpour

August 25th Mister Instituto beauty pageant postponed during Talent segment due to thunderstorms

August 26th: Flooding in Casas Viejas

September 2nd: Mister Instituto rescheduled again due to heavy rain
September 3rd: Flooding in Casas Viejas

September 8th: Mister Instituto beauty pageant successfully completed


Now I'm just waiting for the gods' response.

But, in all seriousness, I've seen better days down here. This rainy season has been the worst in recent history. You may have seen in the news that the excess rainfall has caused catastrophic landslides placing Guatemala in a state of emergency. Casas Viejas has had more than its share of the travesties. My town is situated on a floodplain and surrounded by a river/canal system that runs from the mountains to the ocean. Rain has been pounding us consistently and on top of that the rivers surrounding us can't contain all of the rain that is rushing down from nearby mountains and is spilling out and flooding the town. For the past week or so there has been flooding all around me. The roads have turned into rivers. Cattle are roaming freely because their pastures have been converted into lakes. Our electricity is continually disrupted. Hundreds of people have been displaced. Yet, everyone is handling the dire situation with palpable resilience. Life, after all, must go on and beauty pageant queens (and misters) still must be crowned.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Change is Contagious

Hector the shop boy quit. He worked exactly 18 days at the Coop tienda. His reason for leaving: he wanted to move to Esquintla to live with his sister and get a job there. I was sad to see him go, even bought him a desert empanada as a going away present, and wished him the best of luck in his future endeavors.

Iris, Hector’s replacement, trained with him on his last day. This gave me much pleasure because I was able to watch as Hector explained to her how to maintain all of our books. He had learned the system I taught him well enough to teach another individual- the key to sustainability. Iris proved to be an even better bookkeeper than Hector and on her first day was only short Q0.40 from the register.

But alas, change must be contagious because Iris quit too. She worked exactly 8 days. Her reason for leaving: her brothers (who all live in Irvington, NJ) want her to stay at home and help her mother. Tomorrow is Iris’ last day. It will be sad to see her go, I plan on buying her a desert empanada as a going away present (or maybe a chocobanano if the empanada lady doesn’t pass by the store tomorrow), and will inevitably wish her all the luck in her future endeavors.

We still don’t have a replacement for Iris. Should be an interesting next few days.

In other news, I have new neighbors. See, change is contagious. They moved today into what was previously an empty house to the left of mine. Tragically, the family was displaced due to all the flooding that has been happening on the North side of town. Those effected by the flooding have been living in knee high water for the past three days. Families are sleeping outside on the elevated road in front of their homes, afraid to leave for fear of being robbed. I have consistently told Don Edgar (whose house has been flooded 13 times this year) that I think we should gather the people who have been effected and discuss what we can do to improve the situation- maybe ask the government to send an engineer out to see what is causing the flooding and how it could be avoided, or research costs for elevating their homes. So far I’ve had no luck in convincing him to do this, most likely because every other day he is occupied with bailing his house out. I may have better luck when the rains subside in October- will keep you posted.

So back to my new neighbors... I’m not so sure how this change is going to effect my way of living in the long run but I do know my new neighbors and I are going to get real close real fast. To explain, the chain-link fence that separates our houses is great for keeping their chickens on their side of the fence but doesn’t do much good in the privacy department. In fact, I happened to catch a young man showering in his turquoise tighty whities through the fence tonight as I was walking to my kitchen to cook my dinner. Two seconds later I overheard him ask, “who is that?.” The response was, “The Gringa.” Luckily, my shower is tucked around the other side of my house so I won’t have the same bathing privacy issues.

However, I have a feeling I’m no longer going to be able to keep my weekly routine of “Julianne Hough Cardio Ballroom” and “Jullian Michaels: 30 Day Shred” exercise videos a secret anymore. And, now when I eat my dinner alone at my little plastic table in my backyard, I won’t really be alone. Which is funny because before it didn’t bother me to eat alone but now that other people will be watching me eat alone, I’m gonna feel awkward and, well, alone. Its kinda like going to Buca Di Beppo and asking for a table for one. You know the waiter is thinking, “does this girl know we do family-style here?” and all the other patrons are giving you pity looks. Its just so awkward. Yes, I quite like this analogy. All that is missing is the garlic bread and checkered table cloth. Ciao- Let's Mangia.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Birth and Death

The first two weeks at the new Coop tienda location have been a success. Sales are steady and Hector, the shop keeper, has done a stellar job at maintaining the set of books I have requested he keep. The books detail the sales, purchases and credit flowing through the business. We have also initiated a new meeting at 5PM every day in which the Vigilancia (vigilance committee), Tesorero (treasurer) and Hector reconcile the books to see how the day ended. The store doesn’t actually close until about 8PM but our “day” ends at 5PM and sales after that point go onto the following day’s books.

This week the minibank also was moved from its temporary location at Jenny’s computation center to the new tienda local. With the move came Veronica (bank teller) and Manuel (doing an internship of sorts at the minibank). Having Veronica at the tienda adds a little spunk to the atmosphere. The girl likes to gossip and has shared all sorts of gushy town dirt with me, such as, which men frequent prostitutes, who hits the bottle a little too hard... I would elaborate but I recently found out that someone who reads my blog (you know who you are) has been reporting information back to people in town and I don’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble. I’m sure you understand.

Veronica’s affinity for gossip is not the only entertaining thing about her. She is six months pregnant and her little bun in the oven is also the source of good chit-chat. She finds out the sex of her little "túmulo" this week. I don’t know the word for bump in Spanish. I do, however, know "túmulo" which translates to speed bump so this is what I refer to her baby bump as- close enough. We spent one afternoon last week going through potential baby names. I did the naming and she would respond if she liked it or not. It went a little like this:

Anna: Micah
Veronica: No, hate it 
Anna: Max
Veronica: OK but Maximilian
Anna: Jackson
Veronica: Jason?
Anna: No, Jackson
Veronica: Jason?
Anna: Zachary
Veronica: Esaqu..... (definitely couldn't pronounce that)
Anna: Brent
Veronica: huh? 
Anna: Trent
Veronica: huh? 
Anna: Charly
Veronica: I like that one. Give me some more...

And so the afternoon went. She came out liking a few of my suggestions but when I offered Annalisa for a girl's name she just laughed at me.

I had intended to end my blog post with the baby name story but there was a passing in my town Friday night which has given me the opportunity to bring together, as often occurs, the two themes of birth and death. I will warn you that this post is now turning a little dark...

Friday night as the town was experiencing a unusually heavy rainfall a man was killed outside of the town cemetery. The murder took place while I was tucked away in my bed, coincidentally, watching the horror movie American Psycho (thanks Danielle). I didn’t hear the handful of gunshots that rang out because they were masked by the pounding raindrops on my rooftop and the sound of Christian Bale's chainsaw. It wasn’t until Saturday morning, when I stopped by the tienda, that I learned of the tragedy. I will recount the details that I have gathered from various sources.

The deceased was a young man of questionable character; a known gang member who also meddled in the dealing and consumption of drugs. His fatal flaw, however, was his inclination to steel from the people in town and then escape of to the capital to sell the ill-gotten gains. Let me remind you that my town is pretty small- just over 2,000 inhabitants. The large majority of people are honest, hardworking and respectful so when there is a rotten apple in the bunch it's easy to pick that person out. And picked out this delinquent was. He was walking by himself after nightfall and someone (or some people) took the law into their own hands and shot him to death. He was found shortly after the deed was done with no less than 8 bullets in his body. One right through his forehead.

Civil policing is not uncommon in Guatemala. In a country where few have faith in the government, police are seen as another futile and corrupt arm of the powers that be. And as awful as this incident was, the townspeople are shaken but show no outrage. “Now we will have fewer problems” is their ultimate conclusion, "the gangs will think twice before coming to Casas Viejas."

Monday, August 9, 2010

Only Time Will Tell

I made it safely back to my site last weekend. The trip, however,was not my typical four hour/three bus jaunt. Repairs on the bridge between Chiquimulilla and my site still haven’t commenced which added a little detour to my usual route. At the bridge all passengers were unloaded and directed to take a rocky side path down to the river. We then crossed three provisional bridges that just barely cleared the rushing waters below and continued to trek back up a steep hill to the awaiting buses on the other side. While crossing the river I could see the once sturdy bridge now dangling by its support cables 100 feet above my head. The site was a stunning visual of mother nature’s destructive power.

Once back in site I started making the rounds. I visited Seno Lili, Jenny, Loyda and ran into a handful of other socios while walking around town. It felt great to greet everyone in the streets, only i found that instead of a simple “good afternoon,” everyone saluted me with a, "You've finally appeared! We thought you were never coming back." While out and about I ran into the Coop treasurer Don Alfonso who informed me that our Cooperative was in the process of moving tienda locations to a much more “rustic” building with a lower rent. I made a trip to Eslin’s house, our shopgirl, and good friend of mine. She confessed to me that she had quit and will be working at the new libreria that will occupy the cooperative’s old space. I have no hard feelings- I think the Coop came to rely on her too much anyway- and am just glad that she didn’t decide to take a job in Guatemala City.

Last Monday I spent the day with the socios cleaning and fixing-up the new local. About ten minutes into the clean-up I managed to cut my foot on a rusty nail (just my luck) and after giving it a good cleaning called Johanna at the Peace Corps medical office- her response, “I would like to bubble wrap you.” We both decided that I suffer from a “lack of spacial awareness” and I agreed to continue to keep the wound clean and let her know if “it gets pussy or begins to smell” (gross- and luckily neither occurred- the wound is nearly completely healed as I write this post). We finished cleaning the store that evening - the only thing it lacked was product. While cleaning I was informed that the new shop keeper will be a 20 year old guy from a nearby Aldea. Working with a male will change my daily work dynamic immensely. I don’t think I’ll be able to just sit and chat at the store like I did with Eslin. But, I am looking forward to starting from scratch with the store bookkeeping - a clean slate will make it easier for me to get him in the habit of keeping good records. I only hope that he isn’t filled with too much machismo and doesn’t mind taking orders from a female. Time will tell how this change effects the progress I make here.

Wednesday I traveled with Don Jamie and Don Edgar (the current and former Coop presidents) to Cuilapa (a two hour trip in pick-up) to the INACOP offices for a little meeting for all Santa Rosa Coops. INACOP had called the meeting because an opportunity to request government funding for projects had emerged and they wanted to let all Coops try their luck at scoring some of the purse. Nearly 15 representatives from various Cooperatives throughout the department showed up. We were given a small presentation which was followed by a roundtable discussion. The more outspoken attendees took advantage of this time to preach about their misfortunes and coinciding acts of perseverance in the midst of previous monetary obstacles. One woman gave an account of her groups situation, starting her narrative with, “I only would like a few moments of your time” which in Guatemala indicates that she will have the floor for the better part of the next 15-30 minutes. She spoke of the humble beginnings of her cooperative that initiated with the desire to have an income generating outlet for women in her community. They underwent many obstacles to get the group off the ground and reach their current status (abbreviated for brevity’s sake). She then informed us that last year her group had received approval for Q200,000 of funding from the government but when corruption plagued the economic department’s ranks and the head was ousted his budget went with him. This is typical of the empty promises for which the Guatemalan government is so famous. She is still wondering if and when she’ll get the money. The good that came out of her monologue was her depiction of all the trials and tribulations her Cooperative had endured and the success they’ve still found even without the support of the government. On the ride back to Casas Viejas, Jamie and Don Edgar spoke of how much they liked what she had said. We returned home with our spirits high- confident that we could turn around our Coop’s crisis as other Coops had done before us. Still, we wanted to try our luck at government support and resolved to submit three small project requests for funding.

Saturday morning I worked with Seno Maritza on composing our three funding requests. Initially, I was supposed to work with my counterpart Toribio on the documents but his wife fell ill and he had to take her Chiquimulilla. (I’ve heard many accounts of stomach ailments since my return- not uncommon during the rainy season when the water is even less safe to drink than usual). I was happy to work with Maritza on the project profiles as I have found that if anything actually has a chance of getting done in the Coop- she’ll need to be involved. Not that others don’t work, its just she has the capacity to think critically and analyze ideas in an efficient and productive way.

Maritza is a heaven sent for me. She is a mother of four, including one mentally handicapped son, she is a teacher at the elementary school during the morning and is the director of a preschool she runs out of her own home in the afternoon. She also has taken on a “managerial role” at the minibank - closing the bank and doing all the checks and balances at about 6pm every day. When I arrived at her house on Saturday morning she was readying a chicken for a stew. I spent the first thirty minutes in her presence chatting at her pila while she worked with efficient hands beheading, cleaning and disemboweling the body of a recently deceased chicken. As she sawed off the chicken’s head she explained to me that she didn’t know how to prepare a chicken until she moved to Casas Viejas (she is from a town outside of Antigua). “My mother-in-law taught me how,” she told me. As she continued talking I stared at the chicken in a daze, focusing on its mouth as its beak opened and closed in rhythm with every thrust of the knife. My stomach began to turn- seeing the face of the animal was a reminder that it was once alive, breathing from that mouth and seeing out of those eyes. When Maritza found that the knife couldn’t finish the job of severing the head, she took the head in one hand and the lower neck in the other and with one swift yank tore the head from the body and dropped it in a bucket. I was relieved that the face was now out of site and concluded that I’d rather not acquire a mother-in-law that would ever want to teach me to perform proper chicken decapitation.

After the chicken was prepared and had been placed in the fridge, we sat down and spent the rest of the afternoon pumping out three proposals for funding; a community drainage project, a minibank project and a request for additional funding for our tienda. I think the only proposal that stands any chance of funding is the community drainage project. I can’t see the government dealing out cash for a bank or store amplification. However, I was happy to help with the writing and glad that the Coop is not sitting idly by but instead taking advantage of opportunities as they present themselves. Sunday I sent the proposals to the appropriate contact via email. Once again, only time will tell...

While departing Maritza’s house her son Rene came in and told us
that the river that cuts through Casas Viejas was overflowing and flooding the North side of town. Heavy rainfall in the mountains was making its way down the canal and emptying out onto numerous plots of land held by town residents- including Don Edgar (his house is the light blue one in the below picture). This was the third time this year that the town suffered from flooding. At this point it is almost becoming a normality- as I walked the street taking pictures I found groups of kids swimming in their front yards and families hanging out on their porches just watching as the water rose. Some people even posed for pictures, imploring me to come closer to get a better shot. Coincidentally, the government proposal Maritza and I had written for drainage was aimed at avoiding this very exact problem.

Sunday afternoon I had my first soccer game in almost four months. I first thought it might be a bad idea to play with my nose still healing but, since none of the other girl players challenge for balls in the air, I felt I was pretty safe from any more head trauma. I was right and left the game unscathed and with two assists and one goal to my name. We won 5-0.

Today we worked once again on the tienda, this time stocking all the shelves with merchandise. It took 6 hours to place all the products and do an inventory (which I insisted was necessary even though they performed one before leaving the old location.) I met the new shop keeper Hector- very nice young man and I have a feeling we will get along just fine- namely because he seemed on board with my record keeping requests during a little impromptu bookkeeping training I gave him. Tomorrow we open the store at 6:30 AM and I’m heading into this with high hopes!