Yo No Se Manana, pero Yo Se Estas Cosas

While in Guatemala, I am constantly reminded of these ten things:

1.  Food is your friend... so is loving your body, and the two go hand in hand.

2.  Be thankful for your freedoms.  In Guatemala, you live with your mother, even after you´re married, until the day she dies... then you live with your husband.

3. ¨Give it a minute to come back from space.¨  In many other countries you have no choice but to give it an hour, a day, a week, etc...  A moment is nothing.

4.  Pride & Prejudice is a great movie, but a terrible way to live.  So, keep an open mind.  Just because it´s different, doesn´t mean it´s bad.  You might actually like it better.

5.  Watching a man dance is sexier than knowing he can buy you the world´s most expensive diamond.

6.  Germs exist, it´s true.  What´s truer is that most of them won´t actually kill you... and what doesn´t kill you really does make you stronger.

7.  Americans think they´re superior, but my good friend from Switzerland is fluent in six languages.  Personally, I only know three, and most of the people I know can only speak one.

8.  Put down your weapons and take off the armor, falling in love isn´t so scary.  In less than a day, I fell in love with a new country, a new city, a new family, and a new life.

9.  We´re born with two fears, the fear of falling and the fear of loud noises.  Every other fear is learned... and that means it can also be forgotten.

10.  Follow your heart.  No matter where it leads you, it will never ever steer you wrong.

tienes los ojos de mi sobrina, and so i know it was meant to be

I’m not sure where the time goes in Xela.  Wherever it goes, it goes fast.  I’ve been here a week already, and yesterday was the first time I actually had a moment to stop and write about my time here. 

At first glance, Xela seems a bit rundown, and with all the stories circulating about how dangerous it is, I was a bit nervous about traveling here on my own.  To my delight, I realized rather quickly that my fears were unfounded.  Sure, Xela, like any other city, has its dangers, but how is that any different from New York City or Washington, D.C.?  If you keep your wits about you, you should be fine.

On Tuesday morning, I met Marlo for an orientation around the city, a quick meeting with the organizers of Nuevos Horizontes and a tour of the school.  Marlo is a quintessential Guatemalan mother and she expects you to respect her wishes, just as you’d respect your own mother’s.  In fact, most of the women here treat us girls like their own children, so there’s always an extra set of eyes watching out for us.

While wandering around the city on Tuesday, we stopped by the public college to meet with one of the only professors of socioeconomic studies in Xela.  Marlo is pursuing her Masters degree in education and has chosen to write about Guatemala’s socioeconomic issues.  As she explains it, the private colleges in Guatemala don’t broach socioeconomic issues because Guatemalan’s aren’t really supposed to have an opinion on those matters, not unless you’re leading the country or begging to be killed.  Makes you thankful for the 1^st Amendment, doesn’t it?  Entonces, Marlo wanted to ask for this professor’s critique of her thesis.  For nearly 30 minutes, the professor y Marlo discussed Marlo’s motives for broaching such a delicate issue, and at last, he conceded.  Marlo said he was lenient because I was there.  I don’t doubt it.  Guatemalan men love foreign girls.

I returned to Catalina’s house for lunch, and to prepare myself for my first 5 hour Spanish lesson.  For the first few days, Catalina prepared more food than I could stomach, and, no matter if I’d eaten everything on my plate or not, she was always offering me more.  I guess it’s nice to know that a Latino mother is the same in every country…always in your business and never apologetic about it.

The internet is correct in its description of Spanish school in Xela; it’s unique.  Each student is paired with their own professor and each class progresses based on what you’re lacking on that particular day.  I feel like I’ve learned much more Spanish in the last week than I have in all my years of Spanish classes in the states.  Mariella, my professor, is a trip.  Standing at a total of about 4 feet, you’d never expect the attitude that comes out of this woman.  I loved her from the very first moment that we met, and I loved her even more for walking me home from school until I was absolutely certain I wouldn’t get lost.  Everyone is incredibly kind here.  They don't mind going out of their way to help another.

The abuela de mi casa doesn't say much, but she always shows up when you least expect it.  I arrived home in the early evening, and began to unpack a little before dinner.  After putting my clothes away, I turned around to find abuela standing approximately 3 feet away from me, motioning for me to follow her and reminding me to turn off the light.  I followed her into the kitchen to find Kent, the other student living in the house.  Another thing about Latino women is their unending (and at times, overwhelming) desire to play matchmaker.  And so ended my first full day in Xela, sitting to the left of the 29 year old journalist from Chicago while our new family stared at us, intently watching our every move as if we were two leads in one of the Guatemalan telenovelas we have since grown to love so much.

An Expectation and Its Derivation

When times are less than ideal, a good friend of mine directs my attention to my expectations...both those I set for myself and those I anticipated of others.  Her question is simple: "Were your expectations reasonable?" Most times the answer is no.  Therein lies my problem, and the very obvious solution.  I thought of this exchange on Monday as my plane was taxiing into a gate at Guatemala City airport.  Only moments before, surrounded by a dozen smiling Guatemalans, I watched out my window as we descended into Guatemala City.  I can't recall exactly what I was thinking, but I'm certain it was nowhere near what was crossing the minds of the other passengers, because, as the wheels touched the ground, women, men and children, alike, erupted into applause, laughter and praise for God and the pilot.

As I packed up my bags in preparation of deplaning, I contemplated the Guatemalan enthusiasm, and found myself questioning expectations.  While I expected the pilot to land our plane safely, the Guatemalans expected the plane to fly.  To them, whether or not the plane lands safely isn’t something any passenger is entitled to, it is something they're all afforded by the grace of the pilot’s skill and God’s protection.  This small moment explains a lot about the orientation of Guatemalan culture.

I deplaned in Guatemala City, and tried to adjust to my new surroundings.  Just as Marlo promised, I boarded a bus that had been waiting for me just outside the airport exit.  When driving through Guatemala City, it’s easy to forget that it is one of the most dangerous cities in the world.  To me, it looked just like an antique version of Miami, and there's nothing that really screams "danger."  I suppose that's part of its problem.  We arrived at the bus terminal, where I boarded a larger bus and began the Guatemalan half of my quest towards Xela.

A typical drive from Guatemala City to Xela takes about 4 hours.  After running into construction (the workers were chipping away at the old roads by HAND), driving through roads that were still submerged from the rains of Agatha, and a quick stop for dinner at a Guatemalan version of a drive through (which requires you to park, enter the restaurant, and order inside), we arrived in Xela approximately 6 hours later.  Marlo, my cute little Guatemalan “country coordinator” was patiently waiting for me at the terminal and offered me a big hug and kiss on the cheek as I de-boarded.  As we drove through the streets of Xela, fireworks exploded over my head.  Marlo said Guatemalans take every chance they can to celebrate, especially if they can use fireworks.  While the eccentric use of fireworks seems foreign to most Americans, fireworks on my first night in Xela seemed rather perfect.  It was, after all, the beginning of something that would no doubt change my life.

"OMG! Tomorrow!!" ~ Lizzi Muller

"Omg!  Tomorrow!"  is right.  I leave for Guatemala tomorrow morning!  I can't believe it's already here.  My backpack is finally packed, and although I thought I had packed well, it's much heavier than the last time I traveled to Central America.  At least I won't be lugging it on chicken buses from town to town.  In celebration of my departure, mom made hot dogs for dinner tonight.  Ya'll know how this girl loves a good hot dog.  :-)

this is the road & these are the hands

Days until Guatemala:  6

Marlo, UP's adorable country coordinator, emailed my Guatemala itinerary last week.  Sweetly entitled "CatherineLyss" (they still haven't fully grasped the idea behind nicknames), the document carefully outlines a healthy balance of school, volunteer work, Guatemalan culture, and old-fashioned fun.  Despite the eager start time of 7 AM, I find myself looking forward to the structured days of an elementary school-esque lifestyle.  The weekdays look deliciously satisfying (and perhaps a tad exhausting), full of helping and learning, while the weekends can only be described as inspirational.

Due to my limited language skills & my experience working with children, I chose to volunteer with NuevosHorizontes, an organization that provides a temporary haven for women & children survivors of domestic violence.  It was my father who really highlighted the significance of the task at hand when he said, "Isn't it interesting to find an organization that supports and encourages women in a country that isn't America?  You probably don't realize it, but most countries still treat their women as inferior human beings."  He couldn't be more right.  When I googled women's rights in Guatemala, I found articles depicting an epidemic of "femicide" and an oppressive culture that has done little to stop it.  The mere existence of an abused women's shelter in Guatemala is a monumental step in a new direction.

With that being said, I'm also going to Guatemala for some very selfish reasons.  The country is known for its unique (and successful) approach to teaching Spanish to non-native speakers, and UP has organized a shlew of cultural activities that range from Salsa dance lessons to cooking classes to field trips to museums, local artisan markets & other cool places.  Four days after I arrive in Xela, Marlo has scheduled an overnight hike up VolcánTajumulco.  At 13,845 feet, Volcan Tajumulco is the tallest volcano in Central America, and the 24th highest peak in the world (thank you, Wikipedia).  If it's anything like our 10 mile hike through Parque Nacional El Impossible in El Salvador, let's hope I make it home. 

Lastly, I love a good adventure (especially the kind where cell phone service is non-existent and internet connection is sparse), which most likely stems from the reason I love whiskey... "suck it up and knock it down cause it strengthens bones & impresses boys."  Great advice, Ma.  :-)

love,

lyss

"When you embark for strange places, don't leave any of yourself safely on shore.  Have the nerve to go into unexplored territory" - Alan Alda 

(dad, Hawkeye only speaks the truth)