It’s amazing how there are things in my life that would have seemed rather odd four months ago, but seem completely normal now. Like transporting a cat across town in a burlap sack. Or taking all my clothes off and bathing completely naked in a chuj (Mayan sauna) with a bunch of old Mayan women who I’ve never met before. Or when those old Mayan women scrubbed my back for me. It’s amazing how quickly we, as humans, can adapt to new situations. Not a day goes by that I don’t lie in bed at night in awe of my new Guatemalan lifestyle. I’ve left behind many of my worldly comforts, but I’ve found comfort in the relationships I’ve built here, and in the daily routine that I seem to have adopted without even trying.
This is the first week that I’ve really felt like I’m settling in and getting accustomed to my work routine. For the past few weeks, I’ve shown up at my schools, ready to get started with my real “teaching,” only to find that various activities have been planned, and classes have been canceled. Each week I’ve become more and more disillusioned with my work, and more worried that I’d never actually get a chance to teach. So far this week, I’ve given 6 charlas (lessons), which is a big improvement from my previous record of 0. What’s even better is that the kids are responding to me really well, and they behave themselves when I’m teaching! I do have the advantage of the fact that they’re in awe of me in all my gringa-ness. Yesterday, when I was walking home from Taltimiche (over a mountain, through a rainstorm), after giving a couple of very successful charlas on how to identify goals and develop plans for achieving said goals, I started thinking about the biggest – and most challenging – adaptation I’ve made since coming to Guatemala. Four months ago, I could barely string together enough words in Spanish to create a few grammatically-incorrect sentences. Now, I’m standing in front of a class teaching Guatemalan students about life skills, in Spanish that is at least good enough for them to understand.
I think back about all the fears and misgivings I’ve had about my work and life over the past four months, and I realize that I’ve adapted so well that none of these things bother me anymore. I’ll hold onto this fact, so that in the future, when I have fears and misgivings (as I’m sure there will be many), I can be sure that, in time, I will be able to deal with them too.
This was a pretty short post, so I’ll end with a quick story. Yesterday when I was walking home from Taltimiche, there was an old woman walking ahead of me with the most beautiful corte (traditional Mayan skirt that all the women wear). It was a deep, jewel-toned pink, and was so beautifully vibrant, it made the day seem a little less grey. I caught up to her and said good afternoon, then commented on how much I loved her corte. We ended up talking for about five minutes, and before I left, I asked her what her name is. “Marijuana Vásquez” was her reply. I had to ask her to repeat herself just to be sure I heard her correctly. I did. Yesterday I met a woman named Marijuana.
This photo is completely unrelated to my post, but I figured
I've been lacking in the photo department lately, so here's
me with Nahomy, my 2-year-old host-niece.
