Thursday, October 25, 2007

Spanish

Learning a new language is never an easy thing. I have my good days and I have my bad days. Overall I feel like I’m improving, but I can’t wait for the morning where I wake up and I’m fluent. Apparently it doesn’t happen that way. My level coming in was “Intermediate-Low”. Basically that meant I can ask and answer simple questions. After 5-weeks we had another evaluation. I’m improved to “Intermediate-Intermediate” which means I can ask and answer slightly more advanced yet still simple questions. It’s good to know I’m getting better, although I was hoping to move up one more level. A saying we hear a lot is “Poco a Poco” which roughly translates to “Little by Little”. It’s a little intimidating to think that in less than four weeks I will not have any more Spanish classes and my lessons will consist of living by myself in a Guatemalan community and trying tto function with government offices, communtiy groups, and NGOs. O’well “el es que el es” (“it is what it is”, at least I think that’s what I said!)

Noise


Our Volunteer handbook mentioned that one thing that causes most volunteers some irritation is noise. I didn’t believe it when I read it, but now after living in Guatemala for about 6-weeks I know what they were talking about. It’s always noisy. I mean always. Right now in the background there rain on a metal roof and an electric guitar and drums coming form the Evangelical Church next door. By next door I mean I can step out of my room (from the door that leads to nowhere) and onto the roof of the church. In the morning there will be Roosters doing their thing. There is a random loudspeaker about 15ft from my room that makes occasional announcements about whatever needs to be announced. Saturday night there was a rather loud prayer and worship service occurring no more than 20ft from where I was trying to sleep that went until 5am. Like many places in the world, Guatemalans tend to celebrate by blowing things up. In their case they do it the civilized manner of lighting a string or six of firecrackers. At least they aren’t shooting guns in the air like some other countries I’ve been in. I can guarantee you when I get to my permanent site I’ll be paying particular attention the proximity of my house to any Evangelical Church and/or farm animals.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Name that fruit or vegetable


I suppose it should come to me as no surprise that there are fruits and vegetables down here that I wouldn’t find back home in the States, but it never ceases to amaze me. From time to time my host family will put a bowl full of a vegetable soup in front of me and I start trying to figure out what exactly I’m eating. One popular vegetable is called Guicoy and it’s a cross between a potatoe and a cucumber. There are tiny little apple like fruits called Guayava and there is a little nectarine like fruit with at large seed in the middle. I feel kind of silly having to ask whether you eat the peel (and seeds), but I guess you just grow up learning that with the fruits you encounter in your youth. Any guesses on the fruit in the photo?

It’s harder when it’s not your native language


I really don’t have much of a fear of public speaking. Between different jobs I had in the Air Force I was given ample opportunity to speak in public to varying sizes of groups. This past week we had the opportunity to give our first (of presumably many) talks in Spanish. Although my Spanish is certainly better than it was when I arrived, I’m nowhere near fluent. It makes it a challenge and at the same time fun. The talk covered the organization of a community group so I felt comfortable with the topic and actually we pulled it off very well. An interesting observation which was made to me was that it’s possible that we may know Spanish than our audience if they come from an indigenous village. Not sure I’m ready to pick up a Mayan language…vamos a ver.

Saturday, October 6, 2007

Yes, that nice old lady just pulled the head off a Chicken



Today we had a bit of a cutural experience. My Spanish class went to a village called San Andres Iztapa. The village is fairly typical except that they have a special chapel there to worship the wicked Saint Simon. To call it a church is a bit of an stretch, although it’s in the shape of the church. There were a couple of rituals occuring simultaniously. Inside the church, people were lining up to go up to the alter and be hit all over their bodies with herbs and then have aguardiente (alcohol) spit out all over them by a lady in front of the statue of Saint Simon. There were people kneeling and liting cadles as well. Outside people were making small fires of incense, wood, candles, eggs, candies, and a number of other odd and sundry items. There would be some words said and then the fire was lit. Some people knelt really close to it and others jumped over it. We watched this for close to two hours waiting in anticipation to see what would happen with a chicken we saw one group of ladies bring into the courtyard. As the ladies were getting the fire ready, the two young girls were playing with the chicken. The chicken’s minutes were numbers because when the fire got going this nice old lady pulled the head off the Chicken (about 10 feet from where I was sitting). With blood soaked hands, she proceeded to throw the head on the fire and then when the body stopped moving (as in “running around like a chicken with your head cut off”) she threw the torso on the fire. The worshiping of, or perhaps praying to, San Simon is a mixture of some Catholic rituals and some indiginous riturals, although neither would claim it and I’m certainly not ready to sign-up. It wasn’t at all tourisy, but we didn’t feel out of place or unwelcome either. I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, but the sacrificing of a Chicken now ranks up there. After our few ours in Iztapa we returned to the town of Chimalentango for lunch…I had beef.