The first attempt at writing this blog, I was sitting in my kitchen, hunched over the computer with a full belly of refried beans. I could hear the Evangelical church down the block playing ridiculously loud music, and was hoping they didn’t let the people speaking in tongues get on the mic that night. The song I had playing on my computer was “Fuiste Tu” by two Guatemalan artists. I was thinking about packing, leaving my family and women’s groups. I was thinking about the groups and having panic attacks about them using their new projects correctly. I was thinking about having drinking water come from the faucet; having hot showers; speaking to my family daily, no matter where they are in the world; having a washer and dryer. I was thinking about the fact that I just put my fingers through my hair, and even though I swear I had showered that day, I pulled out a live bug.
My second attempt to write this blog, I was sitting on the plane home, next to an older couple who had visited for a church trip. I had butterflies in my stomach. It felt like I was 7 and it was Christmas morning; as my family can tell you, on Christmas morning when I was little I always threw up I was so excited, so you can imagine how I felt! This is my final attempt at writing the blog as I’m forcing myself to finish it. I’ve been home for almost 3 months, and I need to end this chapter and start a new one.
How does one begin to wrap up two years of his or her life? Writing this final blog has been on my mind for a while now, and I really don’t know what to say for closure, not only on my service, but on my life in Guatemala. I’ve been getting the question “how was it” – and really, how would you wrap up the last two years of your life in a one sentence answer?
I titled my blog “Megan’s Adventures” because that is what I assumed it would be for two years: an adventure. But what it was was a life; I have a new family, a new set of friends. I am used to, and now enjoy, living alone. In Guatemala I had my daily routines, chores, and phone calls to Peace Corps friends. I certainly have had some adventures, no doubt, but when I reflect on my Peace Corps service, I think about sitting in my kitchen with Junior, coloring. I think of sitting on a camionetta, sweating, with a little kid touching my hair and calling me Xnula. I think of giving charlas to my women’s groups and stumbling over my Mam and Spanish, hoping that they are understanding half of what I’m saying, while getting a little less annoyed each month when women show up an hour and a half late.
So with this, what to I say? I keep thinking about my readjustment, my constant anxiety about finding a job, the people I’m be happy to see, and the people I miss. I’m thinking, what am I going to do – what’s really next. How great is it for me that I don’t have to ride chicken busses, that I don’t stick out like a sore thumb because of the color of my skin every day, that I can eat my favorite foods, that I can drink water from the kitchen sink.
And then I remember: this experience wasn’t supposed to be about me. Before I left for the Peace Corps, I had read that the experience changes the volunteer more than anything, and I’m sure that’s true, but it scares me. While working in development, all you want to do is make a difference, yet this whole experience I’ve been worried about me; about my depression, my life, my family and friends. I have been pensive about how Peace Corps would change me; how it’d help me be more competitive on applications, and how maybe I’d get some international development experience.
Really, I do agree that I’ve changed way more than I’ve helped to ‘develop’ Cajolá; but I will also say that of all the things I’ve worried about, it took stubbornness and the desire to do something, anything, that made me stay and do the little I could. I can be away from my family and know that they love me and are thinking about me, I can medicate my depression. So what did I do for Cajolá? Like I said in my post “Women in Cajolá,”I don’t know. I hope I helped my women want to make their families healthier. The "what did I do" feeling is a feeling all RPCVs have, and I’ll deal with it in one way or another.
I know life will go on in Guatemala. My replacement, Kathy, will hopefully continue to work with my women’s groups. Junior had his 7th birthday in March, and I know the next time I see him he won’t be interested in coloring or doing sidewalk chalk with me. Kaylee probably won’t even remember me at all. My amazing boss, Basilio, will retire and move to Italy. Peace Corps will hopefully continue to be still be thriving in Guatemala for years to come. I could go on forever thinking about what I've 'maybe' accomplished and definitely not accomplished, my feelings about my experience, and my feelings upon my arrival back in the US. But I won't (you're welcome). I'll just state that I'm glad I did it, and I'm glad I'm moving on.
So, what’s next? I’m very lucky to have this time right now to really be able to go anywhere I want. I was in Wisconsin for a month and a half, then spent a fun-filled week with my aunts in New Mexico and Arizona. From there, I moved to Alaska to visit Casey and apply to jobs. I’ve had a couple phone and Skype interviews, and as of this blog I’ve applied officially to 45 jobs (I spelled the words “language” and “professional” wrong in probably 12-15 of the first ones I applied to though, so I doubt those count! Oops.).
I’d like to take this opportunity to say my thank you’s:
1.) Dear Peace Corps: Thank you for existing. Our relationship has had it’s ups and downs, but without you, I wouldn’t be as patient as I am today, nor would I be nearly the person I am. Working with you, it was re-affirmed that I carry the “Gokey Rabble Rouser” gene.
2.) Dear Peace Corps friends: Thank you for your support and listening to my crying phone calls. Dirk, I never told you this, but when Mr. Jones died and I called you at 5:30am and you told me you were awake, I always knew you were lying. You stinker.
3.) Dear Street Dogs: I still hate you, but thanks for reminding me how much I love US dogs.
4.) Dear Food Poisoning: Middle-finger.
5.) Dear Women’s Groups: You are awesome. Thank you for being patient, for not trying to machete me when I accidentally said “I like to eat kids” in Mam (when I meant “I like to eat food”). I love you and you will always, always, always be in my heart.
6.) Dear Host Family: You have changed my life. We will be in touch.
7.) Dear Friends at Home: THANK YOU for keeping in touch. Thanks for the packages, the emails, the Skype conversations, and thanks to those lucky enough to visit.
8.) Dear Gram Gokey: You are the best. Thank you so much for all the support you always have given me. You say that you weren’t much of a rabble-rouser in your past, but all of my life you have always taught me to speak up. You’ve always supported me and given me your two-cents. You are an amazing and strong woman, who has always devoted her life to helping others without asking for anything, even recognition, in return. I really hope I am as awesome as you when I’m 86.
9.) Dear Mom and Dad: Thank you so much. You two are why I am who I am. I would never have succeeded in high school, gone to college, or joined the Peace Corps without your support. You have always taught me I can do whatever I want not only because I put my mind to it, but because when I have a break down (or run out of money), you’re there for me. You both taught me to be compassionate towards others, and that you really never know what someone else’s situation is. As I’m growing older, I realize how great you are. Not everyone is lucky enough to have parents like you. You’ve taught me to stand up for myself and for others, and that changes don’t happen by sitting back and watching; changes happen by working hard and doing everything you can do. I won the parent lottery, and there is no way you’ll ever know how much I love you both and how much you mean to me. Sorry to everyone else who is reading this – your parents might be awesome, but I’ve got the best ones.
This is a final farewell to all who read my blog. I won’t post again, as this blog will be a nice way to look back on my experience. As always, you can keep in touch with me over email (megangokey@gmail.com).
I’ll leave you with two quotes that I read daily in the Peace Corps:
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
“I shall pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it. For I shall not pass this way again.” Stephen Grellet (Thanks Mr. Nelson for passing this along - I thought of you every time I read it)
My life is forever changed and bettered because of the last two years. Thank you.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
My Peace Corps Experience By The Numbers
I have less than three weeks left in Guatemala, and it’s about time to start wrapping up my service on my blog. This post is not for the faint of heart: I swear and talk about poop, but that’s my service! I hope my math isn’t too off on these…
*Books read: 64 (I think)
*Times bitten by dogs: 3
*Times mased dogs: 2
*Tortillas eaten: shit… over 1,000 for sure
*Visitors: 11
*Haircuts: 2 in country, one at home
*Times called fat per month (more specifically, gordita): at LEAST 10 times a month
*Hours spent on chicken busses: a realistic estimate… at least once a month to the office (5 hours each way) 10 X 23 = 230 hours, plus hours going in and out of Xela… hmm… I’ll say an even 300.
*Hours spent listening to Adele: Minimun of 50 since her new CD came out
*Times squirted by breast milk: 2 – when you weigh babies, women just pull the kid off of their nipple and hand them to you while the milk is still flowing
*Babies that have peed or vomited on me: I can only think of 3 pees and one vomit – not too shabby!
*Number of boobs seen: countless…. But to put a number on it, I have to estimate that I see 4 boobs minimum per womens group, which meants 16 a month from those groups. I’ll have to say I see at least two more boobs a day, which makes the total around…. (23 months X 2 boobs a day= 1380 + women’s group boobs (368) = 1,748 boobs
*Longest stretch of days without showering: 8 (don’t judge, we didn’t have water at my house for like 4 months last year during dry season)
*Longest stretch of days without leaving my house when I wasn’t sick: 3 – sometimes you don’t want to be stared at, you don’t want to speak another language, or you just don’t want to walk out of the house and have to be a happy go lucky PCV
*Times I wished I was invisible so that everyone wouldn’t stare at me while outside of my house: umm 30% of the times I left my house I felt this way
*Number of days I’ve gone without speaking to anyone but myself: before my sitemate got here, I’d say at least once a week. So 36 days
*Times I thought I was going to die of food poisening (read: eating weird body parts of animals, getting a fever, puking, diarrhea): 3. This was only two when I started writing this blog, and I kid you not I knocked on wood at how lucky I’d been. And then I ate a papusa from a lady on the street, and spent this past Sunday puking my guts out. The first time I bought pizza from the street with two friends; I got horribly sick and they did not. The second time, I was eating a pache - a typical food: rice with chicken and sauce in it, wrapped and boiled in a banana leaf – that was gifted to me around Christmas. I was just kind of going at it, not paying attention, when I realized the meat part I was eating was a chicken claw. I definitely woke up puking with a fever that night. I still love paches, I just look at little harder now.
*Times I have diarrhea per month: 4 days of each month are typically diarrhea filled
*Animal body parts I’ve eaten while actually having no idea what they are: probably 10
*Panicked phone calls made to fellow PCVs: ooh probably around the 30 mark
*Panicked phone calls I’ve made to people back home: 4 that I can think of, but my mom might raise that number (sorry Mom, Jordan, Brooke and Casey…!)
*Panicked phone calls made to my PC bosses: 2… good think their jobs are 24/7 too!
*Times I cried for a really good reason or no apparent reason: too many to count, but I’d say it’s an equal number of each
*Number of conversations had about the weather: 500+ … boring, but on the plus side I can now talk about the weather pretty well in Mam!
*Percentage of times I blow my nose and my boogers are be black: 65% - lots of smog from the busses here, as well as visiting houses and inhaling smoke like crazy
*Babies I’ve made cry just by looking at them: I feel like this is thousands, but realistically it’s probably only around 50.
*Items I’ve had fall on me from a bus shelf: 4 that I can think of, including a particularily heavy suitcase and a piece of wet meat
*Times I’ve been asked for money: millions
*Times I’ve been asked for a visa: billions
*Hours I’ve spent waiting for people (la hora Chapina): I would guess I’ve spent at very least 48 hours sitting and waiting… puncuality is something I am VERY excited about when I get back to the US!
*Times I’ve had to hang on for dear life on the outside of a bus: 2 that I can think of
*Times I’ve had fleas: ugh. Once a month (including right now)
*Percentage of PC conversations that revolve around work or poop: 85%
*Number of near death experiences: It depends how you define near death, but for the sake of my parents I’ll say half a dozen (bus rides, dogs, heavy puking, etc)
*Times I´ve been sexually harrassed: twice a day - this meaning people always cat-call me, ask me about my sex life, ask me for advice on their sex life, etc. it’s typically gross old men
*Times I´ve shat/sharted myself: twice – you’re not a real PCV unless you’ve pooped your pants
I only have 2 weeks left in Guatemala, so I’ll probably do one more blog post. I have no idea what I’m going to write or how I’ll wrap up my thoughts on two years here.
I wrote down a couple quotes from books that I’ve read and that I’d been meaning to post a while ago, but here they are now.
“You think we’re victims, because we cover our hair and wear modest clothing. But we think that it’s Western women who are repressed, because they have to show their bodies – even go through surgery to change their bodies – to please men.” A female Saudi doctor interviewed in Half the Sky
“I wish I was a woman who cared deeply about shoes and concealer. I wish I was not the sort of woman who ended up sitting at her kitchen table listening to a refugee girl talking about her awful fear of the dawn.” Little Bee
“On the girl’s brown legs there were small white scars. I was thinking, do those scars cover the whole of you? … I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must be in agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty, okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, ‘I survived.’” Little Bee
Books read since my last post:
Silence on the Mountain
The Lace Reader
Go Ask Alice
Never Let Me Go
Night
Consider the Lobster
The Ugly American
On the Road
100 Years of Solitude
The Search
The Sinday Philosophy Club
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
The Hunger Games
Hasta luego,
Megan
*Books read: 64 (I think)
*Times bitten by dogs: 3
*Times mased dogs: 2
*Tortillas eaten: shit… over 1,000 for sure
*Visitors: 11
*Haircuts: 2 in country, one at home
*Times called fat per month (more specifically, gordita): at LEAST 10 times a month
*Hours spent on chicken busses: a realistic estimate… at least once a month to the office (5 hours each way) 10 X 23 = 230 hours, plus hours going in and out of Xela… hmm… I’ll say an even 300.
*Hours spent listening to Adele: Minimun of 50 since her new CD came out
*Times squirted by breast milk: 2 – when you weigh babies, women just pull the kid off of their nipple and hand them to you while the milk is still flowing
*Babies that have peed or vomited on me: I can only think of 3 pees and one vomit – not too shabby!
*Number of boobs seen: countless…. But to put a number on it, I have to estimate that I see 4 boobs minimum per womens group, which meants 16 a month from those groups. I’ll have to say I see at least two more boobs a day, which makes the total around…. (23 months X 2 boobs a day= 1380 + women’s group boobs (368) = 1,748 boobs
*Longest stretch of days without showering: 8 (don’t judge, we didn’t have water at my house for like 4 months last year during dry season)
*Longest stretch of days without leaving my house when I wasn’t sick: 3 – sometimes you don’t want to be stared at, you don’t want to speak another language, or you just don’t want to walk out of the house and have to be a happy go lucky PCV
*Times I wished I was invisible so that everyone wouldn’t stare at me while outside of my house: umm 30% of the times I left my house I felt this way
*Number of days I’ve gone without speaking to anyone but myself: before my sitemate got here, I’d say at least once a week. So 36 days
*Times I thought I was going to die of food poisening (read: eating weird body parts of animals, getting a fever, puking, diarrhea): 3. This was only two when I started writing this blog, and I kid you not I knocked on wood at how lucky I’d been. And then I ate a papusa from a lady on the street, and spent this past Sunday puking my guts out. The first time I bought pizza from the street with two friends; I got horribly sick and they did not. The second time, I was eating a pache - a typical food: rice with chicken and sauce in it, wrapped and boiled in a banana leaf – that was gifted to me around Christmas. I was just kind of going at it, not paying attention, when I realized the meat part I was eating was a chicken claw. I definitely woke up puking with a fever that night. I still love paches, I just look at little harder now.
*Times I have diarrhea per month: 4 days of each month are typically diarrhea filled
*Animal body parts I’ve eaten while actually having no idea what they are: probably 10
*Panicked phone calls made to fellow PCVs: ooh probably around the 30 mark
*Panicked phone calls I’ve made to people back home: 4 that I can think of, but my mom might raise that number (sorry Mom, Jordan, Brooke and Casey…!)
*Panicked phone calls made to my PC bosses: 2… good think their jobs are 24/7 too!
*Times I cried for a really good reason or no apparent reason: too many to count, but I’d say it’s an equal number of each
*Number of conversations had about the weather: 500+ … boring, but on the plus side I can now talk about the weather pretty well in Mam!
*Percentage of times I blow my nose and my boogers are be black: 65% - lots of smog from the busses here, as well as visiting houses and inhaling smoke like crazy
*Babies I’ve made cry just by looking at them: I feel like this is thousands, but realistically it’s probably only around 50.
*Items I’ve had fall on me from a bus shelf: 4 that I can think of, including a particularily heavy suitcase and a piece of wet meat
*Times I’ve been asked for money: millions
*Times I’ve been asked for a visa: billions
*Hours I’ve spent waiting for people (la hora Chapina): I would guess I’ve spent at very least 48 hours sitting and waiting… puncuality is something I am VERY excited about when I get back to the US!
*Times I’ve had to hang on for dear life on the outside of a bus: 2 that I can think of
*Times I’ve had fleas: ugh. Once a month (including right now)
*Percentage of PC conversations that revolve around work or poop: 85%
*Number of near death experiences: It depends how you define near death, but for the sake of my parents I’ll say half a dozen (bus rides, dogs, heavy puking, etc)
*Times I´ve been sexually harrassed: twice a day - this meaning people always cat-call me, ask me about my sex life, ask me for advice on their sex life, etc. it’s typically gross old men
*Times I´ve shat/sharted myself: twice – you’re not a real PCV unless you’ve pooped your pants
I only have 2 weeks left in Guatemala, so I’ll probably do one more blog post. I have no idea what I’m going to write or how I’ll wrap up my thoughts on two years here.
I wrote down a couple quotes from books that I’ve read and that I’d been meaning to post a while ago, but here they are now.
“You think we’re victims, because we cover our hair and wear modest clothing. But we think that it’s Western women who are repressed, because they have to show their bodies – even go through surgery to change their bodies – to please men.” A female Saudi doctor interviewed in Half the Sky
“I wish I was a woman who cared deeply about shoes and concealer. I wish I was not the sort of woman who ended up sitting at her kitchen table listening to a refugee girl talking about her awful fear of the dawn.” Little Bee
“On the girl’s brown legs there were small white scars. I was thinking, do those scars cover the whole of you? … I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must be in agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty, okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, ‘I survived.’” Little Bee
Books read since my last post:
Silence on the Mountain
The Lace Reader
Go Ask Alice
Never Let Me Go
Night
Consider the Lobster
The Ugly American
On the Road
100 Years of Solitude
The Search
The Sinday Philosophy Club
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
The Hunger Games
Hasta luego,
Megan
Monday, January 30, 2012
Women in Cajolá, Guatemala.... and me
After putting it off as long as I could, I finally read Sheryl WuDunn and Nick Kristof’s book, Half the Sky. It had been on my list since it came out, and I’ve had my hands on it for more than a few months. This book chronicles the lives of women in developing nations, and explains how and why educating a woman can educate families, villages, and countries. The book helps one to understand the necessity of putting our resources into the development of women. While living in a developing country and working directly with the women they are referring to in the book, it was hard to swallow. There are so many times that, for my own selfish reasons, I have had to put myself in the cave that is my house and try to forget what the women down the street are living with on a daily basis. This blog is a result of the feelings I’ve been trying to push away for so long; but, as we know, with knowledge comes responsibility. I am trying my hardest to ‘help’ these people the few ways I know how, and after reading this blog I hope you understand a little more the life of a woman in Cajolá.
I firstly want to point out that these observations come from talking to people, from being in their houses, and from asking questions. These are not statistics I found on the internet, and I’m positive that not every person working with the development of Guatemala would agree with all of my opinions. Also, this is not the situation of every single woman in Cajolá. I kid you not, I’ve entered into an adobe hut that had a giant flat screen TV. Once a family has someone in the states, their life can change drastically, and I’ve seen that happen first hand. What I want to focus on is that for women here, life is completely different. Even being here for two years, I know that I’ll never be able to understand or portray completely the life of a woman in Cajolá, but for those who will never be in Cajolá or a place like it, I’d like to try.
I’ve met girls here who are 13 and pregnant, 14 and married, and 28 years old with ten kids. It’s not rare that a girl is married by the age of 15, and it’s very rare if she is not married with a child by the age of 20. When a girl is married, she is in charge of the cooking, cleaning, and children. She’ll wake up, wearing the traje (traditional Mayan outfit) that she most likely wore the previous day and slept in, around 5am and start with her daily chores: grinding the corn for the rest of the day, washing clothes by hand (in a pila if they have one, in the river if they don’t), cleaning the house – even if it is adobe with dirt floors, she’ll sweep and clean as much as she can. The rest of her day will consist of taking care of the kids, going to the market to buy food (if she has permission), cooking, and cleaning.
Most women have to ask permission to leave the house, even if it is for things like buying food for the family or going to church. Many of my visitors met Juana, a 37 year old woman who helps me with my women’s groups. She keeps a clean house and is seemingly independent, but even she has to call and ask her husband, Torivio, for permission to take the kids to school, to go to the market, or to help me go on house visits.
If a woman from Cajolá is lucky, her husband is not an alcoholic, and maybe even has a job (yup, the job market is bad here, too). If he has a job, he’ll bring home at most 100 Quetzales a day, around $12. If she has no husband or if he is not around, the work she can get is limited to collecting firewood. This job consists of heading into the mountains around 4am, picking up as many sticks as she can find, carrying them back in a bundle on her head, and selling them to people who can afford to buy firewood from her. She probably earns 30 Quetzales a day, around $4.
If a woman’s spouse goes to the United States, it does not mean immediate wealth. Firstly, he has to get there, which is extremely dangerous and usually costs the family all of the money and land they have to their name. Once he gets there, he needs to find a job that will hire illegally, as well as a place to live. I’ve heard horror stories of men getting to the states and then immediately latching on to the drug culture and the party scene. Romeo, my 28 year old ‘host dad,’ is open about how he went to the states and part of the time would work the morning shift at McDonalds, the afternoon shift at Burger King, and then do any type of drug under the sun on his 8 hours off. Luckily that phase didn’t last the whole nine years he was in the US, and he was able to send money back to his family. Not all men get over this; I have friends in Cajolá whose husbands left and never came back. They found another woman in the states and don’t have the desire to return to the Cajoleñan culture. These women, usually with children, are then left to find money to feed their kids, as I stated probably by collecting sticks.
If a woman’s husband doesn’t go to the states, it is not uncommon for him to still have other women. There are countless examples of this and I’ve even seen it with fellow Peace Corps volunteers. The man tells her he doesn’t have anyone else, no kids, no other family, and she starts seeing him, until she finds out otherwise and ends the realtionship. As for women from Cajolá, they don’t typically stop seeing him. There are so many people I know whose husbands have other women, and so many men I know who have children with multiple women. These men most likely will not make the money it takes to support all of his partners and children, and then women again are left to fend for themselves.
Domestic violence is an epidemic here. I see a woman with a black eye every few weeks, and I hear stories of women being raped by their husbands or other family members, stories of emotional abuse, and of murder. In my first few months in site, I attempted to work at the Women's office, which all municipalities are supposed to have. Cajolá has one, but it isn't staffed. I wanted to work on opening it and deal with such issues as domestic violence. Everywhere I turned, people would say things like, "It's none of your business, it's between the man and woman." So if a woman wants to seek help for domestic violence, the only option she has is to take her kids and try to escape. This means leaving everything she knows behind, only to hide for the rest of her life. One of my health promoters, Angélica, was a 19 year old with an 8 month old baby. Her and I would go on house visits together in the village of Cajolá Chiquito, and on our last walk together I asked her about her son’s father. “We’re not together,” she said, “but I’m happy about it. I have my baby and I’m happy with him.” A month later, while Angélica was on a walk with her estranged boyfriend trying to get money to take care of their child, he strangled them both to death in the cornfield next to my house.
I do no think men have an easy life here; compared to where I’m from, I could write the day in the life of a man and it would equally shock the reader. I do need to stress, however, that women definitely live in a different world from even their brothers. From childhood on, one can see a difference. A girl from Cajolá is raised, from basically the time she can walk, to be working; whether it be cooking, cleaning, or taking care of younger siblings (I’ve see the 7 year old taking care of the newborn), she is always doing something.
The education of girls is definitely viewed as less important than that of boys. If a girl goes to school, she will most likely end it around the 6th grade. A boy probably won’t go much further, but if the question is that of money, the boy will be allowed to study and the girl will have to stop. This results in several things, but it affects the girl who wants to leave the community the most. The girl will stop her Spanish education whenever her formal eduaction is done. She will probably continue to only speak Mam, which will give her no access to outside resources since Spanish is spoken in all of the cities, and the kind of Mam spoken in Cajolá is different than Mam spoken in other parts of the country.
Any help that comes into Cajolá comes from a Spanish speaking person. The only voice these women seem to have is in the women’s community, which seems basically nonexistent. The men don’t take women seriously, and if they can’t communicate outside of their community, they have no one listening to their struggle. I call it a struggle, they call it life. I recently asked my groups what their goals were for the rest of their lives; what did they see in the future for themselves? Out of 80 women, I didn’t have one answer. They don’t think like that. I tried to give examples (I want my kids to go to school, I want to learn to read, etc), but they really just kind of shrugged, seemingly knowing that it doesn’t really matter what their goals are. I know help doesn’t come from outside, but from within, and I sometimes feel at a loss. How do I empower these women?
It’s also seemingly impossible to think they’re going to get something out of me being here, while simultaneously I am dealing with the patriarchical struggles of Guatemala. Because I’m white, I can usually get a shred more respect than the average woman (this being because a lot of people believe they need outside help to improve their lives). However, I’ve had many ridiculous things happen to me here. My experiences have pissed me off, humbled me, made me laugh, and made me want to immediately step on a plane out of here as soon as possible. One experience I can remember happened last year while I was translating for a Ugandan man, visiting to work on reforestation from the NGO CARE International. We had been visiting municipalities in the Western Highlands, using the CARE truck. At one point a woman from CARE was driving and accidently drove into a small ditch. The truck was teetering, and the Guatemalan men in the car, as well as the surrounding men who had seen the incident, came together and started talking about the trucks, chains, and ropes they were going to need to get it out. After listening and letting them talk it out for a few minutes, I suggested that there was a really simple way to get the truck out: pile up a few big rocks under the front tire and back out. They raised their eyebrows, looked at each other, then back at me. After a few moments of silence, one of them then said, “You go ahead and try that, little girl, we’ll watch and see how it goes.” They all them burst into laughter and then went ahead with the more difficult process of removing the truck with chains and a neighbors big truck. I, being the snot that I am, crossed my arms, and went and sat across the street with the Ugandan who was visiting. He then said to me “Why don’t they just put stones under the front tire and back out?” I started laughing, then explained what had just happened. He was surprised, to say the least, but just had to sit there and watch. I also knew in my head that if I had said that he, the man I was translating for, had suggested it before I said it, they would have done it.
I have also had issues at my health center. I have a male doctor ‘overseeing’ my work. I’m happy that he actually takes no interest in what I do, but when he does, he always seems to make me feel like a giant idiot; whether it’s how I should be taking Spanish classes instead of Mam (since my Spanish is SO horrible), or that I’m conducting my women’s groups all wrong, I take everything with a grain of salt and try to remind myself that I only have so many months left to deal with him. I’m not sure how to successfully relay the message of equality between men and women to my groups if a majority of the time I feel that in this culture, it really doesn’t exist.
This all being said, I do see strong women in the culture. I see illiterate women, such as Estela, my 26 year old ‘host mom,’ who know how important it is for both of her children to get an education and will do anything in her power to make it happen. I see Mikaela, one of my best friends here, whose husband left her with a 3 month old baby, went to the states, found another woman and therefore didn’t send money back. Mikaela collected wood and raised her son on her own. She helped the previous volunteer and I organize the women in her village (Xetalbiljoj), so that they could receive projects and get health education. I also see men who are not like the others; maybe it’s because I live with Romeo that I see it in him and not in others, but I know that he carries the baby on his back, loves his son and daughter equally, and helps to cook and clean. I have hope in Romeo and Estela, through their clout with the church, that they are helping others to live a more equal partnership.
Then come the questions that every Peace Corps volunteer asks themselves: what am I doing here? Did these last two years have any impact whatsoever? When I leave, will they stop washing their hands? Will they think I was just a Xnula (woman who wears pants) passing through and giving handouts? I’ve tried my best to be strict with the groups: if I don’t see changes in healthy habits, you don’t get a project. I believe that education is most important and I understand that a project doesn’t change a life; I’ve even had to cut a few women out of the project. But then part of me thinks “god I wouldn’t have time, either, to go to a meeting with some foreigner, if I had to make sure my kids were clean all the time, if I had ten of them, if I had to collect firewood for money, and if I spent 5 hours a day washing clothes.”
I tell myself that by being here, by being an independent and educated woman, I am empowering them. Do I really believe that? I don’t know. But that’s what I tell myself on the low days, and I hope that with my presence they do realize that there is a different way, that they can empower themselves and change their situation. I obviously don’t expect them to get up, leave their culture, and try to head to America; what I do hope is that some little girl that has been to all my meetings with her mom might remember me. Maybe she’ll remember the charla I gave on family planning, or maybe she’ll remember that going to the bathroom in a cornfield can make her sick. I don’t know.
I had been thinking about writing this blog for a long time. Due to my lack of English skills, the break from school, and the many thoughts on the topic I have in my head, I know this blog probably doesn’t flow. It’s long, and there are a lot of things going on. I could elaborate on everything said much more, but it would have turned out to be way longer of a read than necessary (high five if you made it this far!). Something I want you to understand, though, is how great we have it. I want you to acknowledge how privileged we are simply to be born in the United States of America, and use that privilege to educate yourself and to educate and help others. I don’t expect you to abandon your life and join the Peace Corps. I don’t know what I expect you to do. All I can think of is that I’m glad you now know a sliver of what life is for a woman here, and to do with this knowledge what you can.
I firstly want to point out that these observations come from talking to people, from being in their houses, and from asking questions. These are not statistics I found on the internet, and I’m positive that not every person working with the development of Guatemala would agree with all of my opinions. Also, this is not the situation of every single woman in Cajolá. I kid you not, I’ve entered into an adobe hut that had a giant flat screen TV. Once a family has someone in the states, their life can change drastically, and I’ve seen that happen first hand. What I want to focus on is that for women here, life is completely different. Even being here for two years, I know that I’ll never be able to understand or portray completely the life of a woman in Cajolá, but for those who will never be in Cajolá or a place like it, I’d like to try.
I’ve met girls here who are 13 and pregnant, 14 and married, and 28 years old with ten kids. It’s not rare that a girl is married by the age of 15, and it’s very rare if she is not married with a child by the age of 20. When a girl is married, she is in charge of the cooking, cleaning, and children. She’ll wake up, wearing the traje (traditional Mayan outfit) that she most likely wore the previous day and slept in, around 5am and start with her daily chores: grinding the corn for the rest of the day, washing clothes by hand (in a pila if they have one, in the river if they don’t), cleaning the house – even if it is adobe with dirt floors, she’ll sweep and clean as much as she can. The rest of her day will consist of taking care of the kids, going to the market to buy food (if she has permission), cooking, and cleaning.
Most women have to ask permission to leave the house, even if it is for things like buying food for the family or going to church. Many of my visitors met Juana, a 37 year old woman who helps me with my women’s groups. She keeps a clean house and is seemingly independent, but even she has to call and ask her husband, Torivio, for permission to take the kids to school, to go to the market, or to help me go on house visits.
If a woman from Cajolá is lucky, her husband is not an alcoholic, and maybe even has a job (yup, the job market is bad here, too). If he has a job, he’ll bring home at most 100 Quetzales a day, around $12. If she has no husband or if he is not around, the work she can get is limited to collecting firewood. This job consists of heading into the mountains around 4am, picking up as many sticks as she can find, carrying them back in a bundle on her head, and selling them to people who can afford to buy firewood from her. She probably earns 30 Quetzales a day, around $4.
If a woman’s spouse goes to the United States, it does not mean immediate wealth. Firstly, he has to get there, which is extremely dangerous and usually costs the family all of the money and land they have to their name. Once he gets there, he needs to find a job that will hire illegally, as well as a place to live. I’ve heard horror stories of men getting to the states and then immediately latching on to the drug culture and the party scene. Romeo, my 28 year old ‘host dad,’ is open about how he went to the states and part of the time would work the morning shift at McDonalds, the afternoon shift at Burger King, and then do any type of drug under the sun on his 8 hours off. Luckily that phase didn’t last the whole nine years he was in the US, and he was able to send money back to his family. Not all men get over this; I have friends in Cajolá whose husbands left and never came back. They found another woman in the states and don’t have the desire to return to the Cajoleñan culture. These women, usually with children, are then left to find money to feed their kids, as I stated probably by collecting sticks.
If a woman’s husband doesn’t go to the states, it is not uncommon for him to still have other women. There are countless examples of this and I’ve even seen it with fellow Peace Corps volunteers. The man tells her he doesn’t have anyone else, no kids, no other family, and she starts seeing him, until she finds out otherwise and ends the realtionship. As for women from Cajolá, they don’t typically stop seeing him. There are so many people I know whose husbands have other women, and so many men I know who have children with multiple women. These men most likely will not make the money it takes to support all of his partners and children, and then women again are left to fend for themselves.
Domestic violence is an epidemic here. I see a woman with a black eye every few weeks, and I hear stories of women being raped by their husbands or other family members, stories of emotional abuse, and of murder. In my first few months in site, I attempted to work at the Women's office, which all municipalities are supposed to have. Cajolá has one, but it isn't staffed. I wanted to work on opening it and deal with such issues as domestic violence. Everywhere I turned, people would say things like, "It's none of your business, it's between the man and woman." So if a woman wants to seek help for domestic violence, the only option she has is to take her kids and try to escape. This means leaving everything she knows behind, only to hide for the rest of her life. One of my health promoters, Angélica, was a 19 year old with an 8 month old baby. Her and I would go on house visits together in the village of Cajolá Chiquito, and on our last walk together I asked her about her son’s father. “We’re not together,” she said, “but I’m happy about it. I have my baby and I’m happy with him.” A month later, while Angélica was on a walk with her estranged boyfriend trying to get money to take care of their child, he strangled them both to death in the cornfield next to my house.
I do no think men have an easy life here; compared to where I’m from, I could write the day in the life of a man and it would equally shock the reader. I do need to stress, however, that women definitely live in a different world from even their brothers. From childhood on, one can see a difference. A girl from Cajolá is raised, from basically the time she can walk, to be working; whether it be cooking, cleaning, or taking care of younger siblings (I’ve see the 7 year old taking care of the newborn), she is always doing something.
The education of girls is definitely viewed as less important than that of boys. If a girl goes to school, she will most likely end it around the 6th grade. A boy probably won’t go much further, but if the question is that of money, the boy will be allowed to study and the girl will have to stop. This results in several things, but it affects the girl who wants to leave the community the most. The girl will stop her Spanish education whenever her formal eduaction is done. She will probably continue to only speak Mam, which will give her no access to outside resources since Spanish is spoken in all of the cities, and the kind of Mam spoken in Cajolá is different than Mam spoken in other parts of the country.
Any help that comes into Cajolá comes from a Spanish speaking person. The only voice these women seem to have is in the women’s community, which seems basically nonexistent. The men don’t take women seriously, and if they can’t communicate outside of their community, they have no one listening to their struggle. I call it a struggle, they call it life. I recently asked my groups what their goals were for the rest of their lives; what did they see in the future for themselves? Out of 80 women, I didn’t have one answer. They don’t think like that. I tried to give examples (I want my kids to go to school, I want to learn to read, etc), but they really just kind of shrugged, seemingly knowing that it doesn’t really matter what their goals are. I know help doesn’t come from outside, but from within, and I sometimes feel at a loss. How do I empower these women?
It’s also seemingly impossible to think they’re going to get something out of me being here, while simultaneously I am dealing with the patriarchical struggles of Guatemala. Because I’m white, I can usually get a shred more respect than the average woman (this being because a lot of people believe they need outside help to improve their lives). However, I’ve had many ridiculous things happen to me here. My experiences have pissed me off, humbled me, made me laugh, and made me want to immediately step on a plane out of here as soon as possible. One experience I can remember happened last year while I was translating for a Ugandan man, visiting to work on reforestation from the NGO CARE International. We had been visiting municipalities in the Western Highlands, using the CARE truck. At one point a woman from CARE was driving and accidently drove into a small ditch. The truck was teetering, and the Guatemalan men in the car, as well as the surrounding men who had seen the incident, came together and started talking about the trucks, chains, and ropes they were going to need to get it out. After listening and letting them talk it out for a few minutes, I suggested that there was a really simple way to get the truck out: pile up a few big rocks under the front tire and back out. They raised their eyebrows, looked at each other, then back at me. After a few moments of silence, one of them then said, “You go ahead and try that, little girl, we’ll watch and see how it goes.” They all them burst into laughter and then went ahead with the more difficult process of removing the truck with chains and a neighbors big truck. I, being the snot that I am, crossed my arms, and went and sat across the street with the Ugandan who was visiting. He then said to me “Why don’t they just put stones under the front tire and back out?” I started laughing, then explained what had just happened. He was surprised, to say the least, but just had to sit there and watch. I also knew in my head that if I had said that he, the man I was translating for, had suggested it before I said it, they would have done it.
I have also had issues at my health center. I have a male doctor ‘overseeing’ my work. I’m happy that he actually takes no interest in what I do, but when he does, he always seems to make me feel like a giant idiot; whether it’s how I should be taking Spanish classes instead of Mam (since my Spanish is SO horrible), or that I’m conducting my women’s groups all wrong, I take everything with a grain of salt and try to remind myself that I only have so many months left to deal with him. I’m not sure how to successfully relay the message of equality between men and women to my groups if a majority of the time I feel that in this culture, it really doesn’t exist.
This all being said, I do see strong women in the culture. I see illiterate women, such as Estela, my 26 year old ‘host mom,’ who know how important it is for both of her children to get an education and will do anything in her power to make it happen. I see Mikaela, one of my best friends here, whose husband left her with a 3 month old baby, went to the states, found another woman and therefore didn’t send money back. Mikaela collected wood and raised her son on her own. She helped the previous volunteer and I organize the women in her village (Xetalbiljoj), so that they could receive projects and get health education. I also see men who are not like the others; maybe it’s because I live with Romeo that I see it in him and not in others, but I know that he carries the baby on his back, loves his son and daughter equally, and helps to cook and clean. I have hope in Romeo and Estela, through their clout with the church, that they are helping others to live a more equal partnership.
Then come the questions that every Peace Corps volunteer asks themselves: what am I doing here? Did these last two years have any impact whatsoever? When I leave, will they stop washing their hands? Will they think I was just a Xnula (woman who wears pants) passing through and giving handouts? I’ve tried my best to be strict with the groups: if I don’t see changes in healthy habits, you don’t get a project. I believe that education is most important and I understand that a project doesn’t change a life; I’ve even had to cut a few women out of the project. But then part of me thinks “god I wouldn’t have time, either, to go to a meeting with some foreigner, if I had to make sure my kids were clean all the time, if I had ten of them, if I had to collect firewood for money, and if I spent 5 hours a day washing clothes.”
I tell myself that by being here, by being an independent and educated woman, I am empowering them. Do I really believe that? I don’t know. But that’s what I tell myself on the low days, and I hope that with my presence they do realize that there is a different way, that they can empower themselves and change their situation. I obviously don’t expect them to get up, leave their culture, and try to head to America; what I do hope is that some little girl that has been to all my meetings with her mom might remember me. Maybe she’ll remember the charla I gave on family planning, or maybe she’ll remember that going to the bathroom in a cornfield can make her sick. I don’t know.
I had been thinking about writing this blog for a long time. Due to my lack of English skills, the break from school, and the many thoughts on the topic I have in my head, I know this blog probably doesn’t flow. It’s long, and there are a lot of things going on. I could elaborate on everything said much more, but it would have turned out to be way longer of a read than necessary (high five if you made it this far!). Something I want you to understand, though, is how great we have it. I want you to acknowledge how privileged we are simply to be born in the United States of America, and use that privilege to educate yourself and to educate and help others. I don’t expect you to abandon your life and join the Peace Corps. I don’t know what I expect you to do. All I can think of is that I’m glad you now know a sliver of what life is for a woman here, and to do with this knowledge what you can.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Catching up!!!!!
I have purposely not written in a while, not to lose contact, but so that my fundraising blogs would stay on top! So I’m back, with a lot of updates. You better be reading this with a full glass of coffee (I’ll also allow a good microbrew) because it’s going to be long! The last real post was June 12, and I’ve been a busy girl since then. First, and most importantly, because of you all (pending one more big check) I reached my fundraising goal of $8,000!!!!!!! WOOOHOOO! I’ve been working on fundraising since I went home in April, and I’m happy to say that construction will be starting at the beginning of January. I have a lot of logistical things to figure out, and I’m really excited to get moving. I’m hoping my counterpart will be into helping me with at least this stage of planning, since she has already done it with the previous volunteer. If not, I’ve got some great Peace Corps coworkers that I’m sure will pitch in.
SO! June flew by. After I posted, my good friend Anna visited. She’s a Spanish teacher, so it was really cool to have her here, and for her to correct me on my Spanish = ) After that, I had packed week finishing up planning for the 4th of July party and All Volunteer Conference. I was able to give a workshop on washable/reusable sanitary napkins that went very well. Immediately after that, I went to the beach for a couple days, then had a few more very packed days of dental work. I had to get 6 replacement fillings, a root canal, and a crown. I won’t go into detail, but they don’t have funny gas here, so I was VERY happy when it was over! The rest of July was spent in site working and doing women’s groups. I taught them how to make an oral rehydration drink from limes, salt, sugar, and water.
In August, we had a 5 day conference on designing our projects as well as how to construct. I can proudly say I can mix and lay cement, as well as make stoves. I might not trust myself to do a whole job, but I get the jist of it! I had planned for my women’s group to give ME talks and presentations, but the week I had it planned for I was puking like crazy, so obviously I cancelled!
Moving on, in September, I focused on doing house visits for my women. This might not seem like a big job, but I had over 80 families to visit, spread out all over the place, with no mode of transportation other than my feet. It is necessary to continually do house visits to make sure the women are putting into practice what we’ve talked about in the group meetings. Things I check while I’m at their houses include: making sure their kitchens are clean, there isn’t food laying around, they try to keep the flies out, they are practicing drinking pure water, they and their kids are wearing shoes and have clean hands, etc. On these visits I usually am gifted either a beverage or some kind of food at every house, and the eating is just about as tiring as the walking! Since I couldn’t do it in August, in September I had the women give me charlas on any topic we had covered. It was really cool to see them take charge and explain to me how to purify water, make the oral rehydration drink, etc. I felt very proud during those meetings, and hoped that they were teaching their friends and families everything that they have learned so far.
In October, I did some translating for two US women’s soccer players (Shannon MacMillan and Tracy Noonan) in Xela. The first thing we did for them was a press conference, and it was pretty intimidating. The few days we spent with them were super fun, and since I really didn’t know anything about soccer, they were able to teach me! Also this month, my friend Blake came to visit, and since he’s been here already we pretty much stayed in my site so I could get work done. I continued house visits, and did women’s group. This month, I taught them how to make toothpaste with salt and baking soda. I am not sure how successful that was, since the toothpaste doesn’t taste like Crest, but I’m hoping to save money they might start making their own instead of buying the expensive stuff from the stores. Blake and I also visited Fuentes Georginas, which are these natural hot springs outside of the city. It was nice and relaxing, and I hope I can get there again before I end my service.
All of the visits from friends in the US I’ve had have been great, and I’m happy to say that Mom and Dad’s visit went very smoothly – they are both troopers. They arrived at about 10pm on October 31, and we hit the ground running from the moment they they got here. We were in Antigua, we went to a kite festival on November 1 in Sumpango (google it – so cool), they stayed at my site for 2 nights, we were at Lake Atitlán for 4 nights, then back to Antigua the night before we flew out. It’s nice for all of us that they were finally able to meet my host family, friends, and coworkers, and to see how I live my day-to-day life.
November will be spent with women’s groups this week, followed by Thanksgiving at the beach. I’ll be contacting some NGOs in Guatemala to see if they are interested in doing construction of some of the water tanks for free. I’ll be finished with my women’s groups, since I learned the hard way last year that thinking that I will get any work done in December is wishful thinking. Jordan will arrive on December 8 and stay for a week, and I think we’ll be staying at my site, and then heading to the lake for a couple days, maybe doing some zip-lining = )
I should mention a couple things: first, since June, three of my friends have headed home and I miss them dearly. However, Kyle and Lizzy are expecting, so although I was sad to see them go, I think their kid will be pretty darn cool, so I’m looking forward to meeting him or her in May! I also should mention that I am very lucky to be using my computer right now, since I spilled half a bottle of water on it yesterday. Due to my quick thinking, as well as putting it in 20lbs of rice for 24 hours, it is good as new. I didn’t have it backed up, but the instant it turned on today, I backed up all my documents and music. Disaster avoided!
The last thing I’ll mention is sad, but I think it is worth telling people about. In August, one of my health promoters, Angélica was murdered by her son’s dad. He took her to a cornfield and strangled her and their 8 month old son to death. I have a lot of things to say about domestic violence and women’s rights in general in Guatemala, but I’ll save it for another blog post. I will say though, that Angelica’s funeral was one of the saddest things I’ve ever experienced. She was 19. While I was giving her mom my condolences, she lost it, yelling “Megan, they took my Angelica and my grandson.” It made me reflect on how precious life is, and how much we take it for granted.
To keep everyone updated, it’s not official yet, but I should be ending my service around the end of March. My projects will be done, and I’ll have enough time to do follow up, so I think the amount of time spent here is/was perfect. It’s weird to think that I’m very close to being done, but then I panic thinking of everything that needs to get done in the next 4 months!
Now, for the most important part of my blog, the book list. These are books that I've read since my lost post:
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest
The Art of Racing in the Rain
The Final Testament of the Holy Bible – *this is probably my favorite book that I’ve read so far in Guatemala - READ IT!*
Nectar in a Sieve
The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
Lucky
The Tender Bar
Sophie’s World
The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down
Escape
Little Bee
I hope all is well with you all in the US – as always, feel free to email me!
Friday, September 2, 2011
PBS
Cajolá was featured in a PBS article, as well as a woman in my Cajolá Chiquito women's group:
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/updates/latin_america/july-dec11/guat_08-29.html
To DIRECTLY help Isabella, who is set to receive a water tank when all funds are collected, as well as 67 other families, read the previous post and donate = )
http://www.pbs.org/newshour/updates/latin_america/july-dec11/guat_08-29.html
To DIRECTLY help Isabella, who is set to receive a water tank when all funds are collected, as well as 67 other families, read the previous post and donate = )
Monday, July 25, 2011
Donate!!
This is the following letter I've emailed to friends and family, but if I somehow missed you, here it is!
Hello friends and family!
As many of you know, I am a Peace Corps Volunteer living in
Guatemala, more specifically in Cajolá, Quetzaltenango. I have been in
Guatemala since April of 2010, working on a project with the Peace
Corps called “Healthy Homes.” This program focuses on educating
families on preventative health, helping them to be more responsible
for their own welfare as well as the welfare of the community.
Since August of 2010 I have been working on educating four groups
of women, totaling 70 women. We meet monthly, and I give presentations
on basic health and hygiene. I have been able to do mini-projects as
well, including washable/reusable sanitary napkins, portable
hand-washing stations, and liquid soap. The projects I do with them
use only ingredients they can get for free or at a very low cost where
they live. As a reward for completing the contract they signed,
stating that they would come to each group, participate, and change
habits in their household, I am building one project per household.
Many living conditions in these communities are unsafe. How can we
teach about the dangers of smoke inhalation when these woman cook over
an open fire 10 to 15 hours a day, or the importance of a bacteria
free home, when they live and cook on dirt floors which are almost
impossible to clean.
In addition to education, I am trying to raise funds to help
better the homes of 70 families who live in the communities of Cajolá
Chiquito, Xecol, and Xetalbiljoj in the municipality of Cajolá. Your
contribution could save a woman or a child from getting lung cancer by
helping us build an improved 'smoke free' stove in their house, or
prevent a child from severe diarrhea and resulting malnutrition by
helping them get a cement floor or water tank, allowing the family to
live in a clean and safe environment.
The original idea for the project was to give all of the
women water tanks. After talking to other Peace Corps Volunteers who
have completed projects, we discussed how empowering it is to have a
choice, and I decided to let the women choose which of the sanitary
infrastructure projects we offer they think would benefit each of them
individually in their households. Not only did this give them more of
a say, it also made the original estimated cost of the project
decrease.
The women had a choice between a cement floor (many of them have
dirt floors), a rain-catching water tank (many have no access to water
other than the contaminated river), or a bettered stove (one with a
chimney so the smoke goes out of the house instead of in the lungs of
the women and children).
To see a short and awesome video on the project, click this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-0cNphnoGY
The rough costs of the projects are as follows:
Cement Stoves: Q330 = $47 each, 26 stoves total Q8,580 = $1,225
Cement Floors: Depends on the size of the room, but roughly Q280 = $40
each, 16 cement floors Q4,200 = $600
Water Tanks = Q1,200 = $171 each, 30 water tanks total Q34,800 = $4,971
Total funds needed:
Q47,580 = $6,797
My current balance is $1,580, with another $2000 promised but not yet received.
If by some miracle donations received exceed the amount requested, I
will be donating the excess funds to Maddie Syzek, my site mate
working as a Healthy Schools volunteer. She will be fundraising to
build hand-washing stations and latrines in schools where none
currently exist. If you have any questions about Maddie’s project,
email her at msyzek@gmail.com, or as always, feel free to contact me
(megangokey@gmail.com).
My current timeline is to have all fundraising and paperwork done
by December, and begin construction in January. If you have any
questions about the project, or my experience in general, please
contact me.
If you would like to donate, please send checks to:
Friends of Guatemala
P.O. Box 33018
Washington, D.C. 20033
Make the checks out to “Friends of Guatemala” and in the memo line
write “Megan Gokey – Cat II”
Please let me know that you donated so I can verify the correct amount
was deposited into my fundraising account, and so I can send you the
proper thank you!
Thanks for taking the time to read this – remember even small
donations go a long way!
Megan E. Gokey
P.S. Feel free to pass this along to anyone you feel would be interested.
Hello friends and family!
As many of you know, I am a Peace Corps Volunteer living in
Guatemala, more specifically in Cajolá, Quetzaltenango. I have been in
Guatemala since April of 2010, working on a project with the Peace
Corps called “Healthy Homes.” This program focuses on educating
families on preventative health, helping them to be more responsible
for their own welfare as well as the welfare of the community.
Since August of 2010 I have been working on educating four groups
of women, totaling 70 women. We meet monthly, and I give presentations
on basic health and hygiene. I have been able to do mini-projects as
well, including washable/reusable sanitary napkins, portable
hand-washing stations, and liquid soap. The projects I do with them
use only ingredients they can get for free or at a very low cost where
they live. As a reward for completing the contract they signed,
stating that they would come to each group, participate, and change
habits in their household, I am building one project per household.
Many living conditions in these communities are unsafe. How can we
teach about the dangers of smoke inhalation when these woman cook over
an open fire 10 to 15 hours a day, or the importance of a bacteria
free home, when they live and cook on dirt floors which are almost
impossible to clean.
In addition to education, I am trying to raise funds to help
better the homes of 70 families who live in the communities of Cajolá
Chiquito, Xecol, and Xetalbiljoj in the municipality of Cajolá. Your
contribution could save a woman or a child from getting lung cancer by
helping us build an improved 'smoke free' stove in their house, or
prevent a child from severe diarrhea and resulting malnutrition by
helping them get a cement floor or water tank, allowing the family to
live in a clean and safe environment.
The original idea for the project was to give all of the
women water tanks. After talking to other Peace Corps Volunteers who
have completed projects, we discussed how empowering it is to have a
choice, and I decided to let the women choose which of the sanitary
infrastructure projects we offer they think would benefit each of them
individually in their households. Not only did this give them more of
a say, it also made the original estimated cost of the project
decrease.
The women had a choice between a cement floor (many of them have
dirt floors), a rain-catching water tank (many have no access to water
other than the contaminated river), or a bettered stove (one with a
chimney so the smoke goes out of the house instead of in the lungs of
the women and children).
To see a short and awesome video on the project, click this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-0cNphnoGY
The rough costs of the projects are as follows:
Cement Stoves: Q330 = $47 each, 26 stoves total Q8,580 = $1,225
Cement Floors: Depends on the size of the room, but roughly Q280 = $40
each, 16 cement floors Q4,200 = $600
Water Tanks = Q1,200 = $171 each, 30 water tanks total Q34,800 = $4,971
Total funds needed:
Q47,580 = $6,797
My current balance is $1,580, with another $2000 promised but not yet received.
If by some miracle donations received exceed the amount requested, I
will be donating the excess funds to Maddie Syzek, my site mate
working as a Healthy Schools volunteer. She will be fundraising to
build hand-washing stations and latrines in schools where none
currently exist. If you have any questions about Maddie’s project,
email her at msyzek@gmail.com, or as always, feel free to contact me
(megangokey@gmail.com).
My current timeline is to have all fundraising and paperwork done
by December, and begin construction in January. If you have any
questions about the project, or my experience in general, please
contact me.
If you would like to donate, please send checks to:
Friends of Guatemala
P.O. Box 33018
Washington, D.C. 20033
Make the checks out to “Friends of Guatemala” and in the memo line
write “Megan Gokey – Cat II”
Please let me know that you donated so I can verify the correct amount
was deposited into my fundraising account, and so I can send you the
proper thank you!
Thanks for taking the time to read this – remember even small
donations go a long way!
Megan E. Gokey
P.S. Feel free to pass this along to anyone you feel would be interested.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Wisconsin, Guatemala, Projects
It’s been so long since the last blog post, I’m not even sure where to start. My trip home was amazing, everything I’d hoped it would be. I was able to meet up with a lot of friends and family, be in a beautiful wedding (congrats Jordan and Ty!), do several fundraising presentations, and even go to a Brewer’s game. I was also able to get a haircut, take a hot bath, and eat way too much cheese. There are pictures posted on my Flickr page of some of these events, so check ‘em out! The time flew by, and I’m back in my current ‘real world’ of taking long chicken bus rides, drinking wet corn in a cup, and the cold nights of rainy season. The weekend after I got back to Cajolá we had a welcome party for the new volunteers, complete with salsa lessons, so I really am getting into the swing of things again.
I have mentioned previously that I’d had a hard time with my counterpart at the health center; I was hoping this break would help things out, and it most definitely did. I think we have a whole new relationship and I am so much happier. I’m sure part of it was me, coming back and feeling refreshed and motivated to start again, but also she has been treating me like a coworker rather than this annoying gringa in the office that she oversees. She’s interested in the women’s groups that I’ve been working with since August, and she’s even attended a meeting with us since I’ve been back. She’s also finally happy about the projects I’ve been talking about, instead of trying to force me to do three separate projects – wanting me to have done one last February, this July, and next February – obviously not plausible.
So projects: working with these women’s groups, the most important thing is education. We’ve been working since last August, and I just designed a 6 month program, complete with charlas and mini-projects (such as making toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, and shampoo from items that are easily attainable). It helps that my sitemate, Maddie, is a Healthy Schools volunteer and is trained in these cool projects, and that she wants to help with my groups! My first goal was to build a water tank for each family; the women were all on board with this before I left, but when I came back from the states, half of them changed their mind to either cement floors or bettered stoves. This is a little kink in the fundraising I’ve already done, but rest assured all the money already raised will go to water tanks, and the other projects are cheaper so it’s a little less pressure (my original goal was $17,000, and now it’s about $11.000). I think it’s also very important to give these people what they think is best for them and their families, and what they want to make their home a healthier place to live, so I can’t be upset about a family wanting a stove instead of a water tank. Right now I’m doing house visits with my women’s groups, as well as beginning to search for various grants for the rest of funding. I haven’t officially reached out to too many friends and family members yet, so that’ll be the next step. I don’t have exact numbers yet and I’d like to be a little more prepared in that sense before I officially solicit money. However, even without the numbers, I was able to raise over $3,000 from giving talks in Wisconsin while I was home. It’s a great start, and I’m excited to really get the ball rolling.
This summer is going to fly by. My next visitor (Anna!!! WOO!!) comes on Wednesday, June 15, and is here until June 28. We’ll be mainly working for the duration of her trip since I don’t have that many days I can take off any more. She’s a middle school Spanish teacher so the trip will be good practice for her. We’ll be heading to Lake Atitlán one weekend, and heading to some natural springs the other weekend. Anna and I studied abroad in Spain together so this will be an awesome reunion for us!
The day Anna leaves, I have to report to the Peace Corps office for my Mid-Service Meds. It’s hard to believe that I’m already at my mid-service, but at the same time it isn’t. I can see how much things have changed since I moved to Cajolá last July: I call it home, and I’d like to think I’m much more integrated in most aspects of life: I am used to go to the market and bargaining for my food in Mam; I am recognized in the community by adults and kids; people know that I know what ‘xnula’ means and that I know they’re talking about me; I’m used to not showering; my host brother, Junior, and I act like brother and sister, and he comes to my ‘house’ to play daily; I’m used to little babies bursting out in tears when they see me; I’m used to traveling an hour and a half to see if I have any mail at the post office. I think I’m so much more integrated that it’s hard for me to think of any more examples of how my life has changed! = )
With this said, I have to say a huge thank you to my family and friends that have helped me get this far. I would not still be here working with these people and living like I do without the support from home. I’m sure it’s not easy getting panicked emails, phone calls, or text messages from me, but you all have been awesome in helping me through whatever situation I had at the present moment (from troubles at work, to getting frustrated that I had to take 9 busses to my house rather than the usual 4). I can’t guarantee that the next year won’t bring similar frustrations or that I won’t be sending panicked emails and text messages, so I hope you’ll all be as awesome as you have been!
Now for my favorite part of the blog, the book list:
Half Broke Horses
Running With Scissors
Tina Fey’s “Bossypants”
Methland
World Bank’s Report of Violence and Crime in Latin America (okay, not a book, but a good read)
A Million Little Pieces
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
The God Delusion (currently reading)
Not too much else to share that I can think of. My friends in site (yeah! I have real Guatemalan friends that live in Cajolá! Woo!!!) keep calling me ‘Mega.’ The wife gets my name, but the husband can’t get it right. His name is ‘Hector’ so I’ve decided that I’m just going to call him ‘Hecto’ and see where that goes.
As always, send me an email if you like (megangokey@gmail.com). Shout out to Patrick who is moving to San Diego this week!!
Love and miss you all!
I have mentioned previously that I’d had a hard time with my counterpart at the health center; I was hoping this break would help things out, and it most definitely did. I think we have a whole new relationship and I am so much happier. I’m sure part of it was me, coming back and feeling refreshed and motivated to start again, but also she has been treating me like a coworker rather than this annoying gringa in the office that she oversees. She’s interested in the women’s groups that I’ve been working with since August, and she’s even attended a meeting with us since I’ve been back. She’s also finally happy about the projects I’ve been talking about, instead of trying to force me to do three separate projects – wanting me to have done one last February, this July, and next February – obviously not plausible.
So projects: working with these women’s groups, the most important thing is education. We’ve been working since last August, and I just designed a 6 month program, complete with charlas and mini-projects (such as making toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, and shampoo from items that are easily attainable). It helps that my sitemate, Maddie, is a Healthy Schools volunteer and is trained in these cool projects, and that she wants to help with my groups! My first goal was to build a water tank for each family; the women were all on board with this before I left, but when I came back from the states, half of them changed their mind to either cement floors or bettered stoves. This is a little kink in the fundraising I’ve already done, but rest assured all the money already raised will go to water tanks, and the other projects are cheaper so it’s a little less pressure (my original goal was $17,000, and now it’s about $11.000). I think it’s also very important to give these people what they think is best for them and their families, and what they want to make their home a healthier place to live, so I can’t be upset about a family wanting a stove instead of a water tank. Right now I’m doing house visits with my women’s groups, as well as beginning to search for various grants for the rest of funding. I haven’t officially reached out to too many friends and family members yet, so that’ll be the next step. I don’t have exact numbers yet and I’d like to be a little more prepared in that sense before I officially solicit money. However, even without the numbers, I was able to raise over $3,000 from giving talks in Wisconsin while I was home. It’s a great start, and I’m excited to really get the ball rolling.
This summer is going to fly by. My next visitor (Anna!!! WOO!!) comes on Wednesday, June 15, and is here until June 28. We’ll be mainly working for the duration of her trip since I don’t have that many days I can take off any more. She’s a middle school Spanish teacher so the trip will be good practice for her. We’ll be heading to Lake Atitlán one weekend, and heading to some natural springs the other weekend. Anna and I studied abroad in Spain together so this will be an awesome reunion for us!
The day Anna leaves, I have to report to the Peace Corps office for my Mid-Service Meds. It’s hard to believe that I’m already at my mid-service, but at the same time it isn’t. I can see how much things have changed since I moved to Cajolá last July: I call it home, and I’d like to think I’m much more integrated in most aspects of life: I am used to go to the market and bargaining for my food in Mam; I am recognized in the community by adults and kids; people know that I know what ‘xnula’ means and that I know they’re talking about me; I’m used to not showering; my host brother, Junior, and I act like brother and sister, and he comes to my ‘house’ to play daily; I’m used to little babies bursting out in tears when they see me; I’m used to traveling an hour and a half to see if I have any mail at the post office. I think I’m so much more integrated that it’s hard for me to think of any more examples of how my life has changed! = )
With this said, I have to say a huge thank you to my family and friends that have helped me get this far. I would not still be here working with these people and living like I do without the support from home. I’m sure it’s not easy getting panicked emails, phone calls, or text messages from me, but you all have been awesome in helping me through whatever situation I had at the present moment (from troubles at work, to getting frustrated that I had to take 9 busses to my house rather than the usual 4). I can’t guarantee that the next year won’t bring similar frustrations or that I won’t be sending panicked emails and text messages, so I hope you’ll all be as awesome as you have been!
Now for my favorite part of the blog, the book list:
Half Broke Horses
Running With Scissors
Tina Fey’s “Bossypants”
Methland
World Bank’s Report of Violence and Crime in Latin America (okay, not a book, but a good read)
A Million Little Pieces
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
The God Delusion (currently reading)
Not too much else to share that I can think of. My friends in site (yeah! I have real Guatemalan friends that live in Cajolá! Woo!!!) keep calling me ‘Mega.’ The wife gets my name, but the husband can’t get it right. His name is ‘Hector’ so I’ve decided that I’m just going to call him ‘Hecto’ and see where that goes.
As always, send me an email if you like (megangokey@gmail.com). Shout out to Patrick who is moving to San Diego this week!!
Love and miss you all!
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