Cerro Jox

The name of my village in K'iche means, "Atras de Cerro Jox", or "Behind Jox Hill". I see this hill, looming steep and green every time I look north. This last weekend, Benancio, Ela, Hendrick, Elkin, Nic and I packed up and took a walk up it. 

This is the view from where we started. We took a pickup up the hiway a bit so we could loop around the hill. From here we walked for about 30 minutes through pine forests. Even Benancio said we were in Oregon (not that he's been there, just that I've talked so much about it). It was a perfect day, warm and sunny with a cool wind. Even Hendrick commented on it: "What a fine day to be in the country". 

At the top of the hill is this small meadow, perfect for games. After lunch we got started on soccer, frisbee, keep-a-way and tag. It felt so good to run and play in a grassy field! 

Along the way I found a pair of orange and black feathers. I told Hendrick they were treasures and put them on his hat. Later, he moved them to the front of his hat and told me that he was a wolf and that he was going to eat me. 

After Hedrick attacked me he put the hat on my head and told me I was a wolf and that I should attach him. I must say, it was my best wolf impression to date. 

Hedrick picked up the frisbee technique pretty quick. 

Here Nic is honoring Michael Jackson by demonstrating his favorite Michael Jackson dance move. Only kidding, it is hard to see but the frisbee is in mid-flight.  

After watching from the shady side-lines, Elkin made his moves on the field. 

We encountered some great old trees on the way down the hill. This is a native oak.  

This is the valley where I live from the shoulder of Cerro Jox.  

Birthday Lunch

Isabel waited until Sunday, market day in the next town over, to buy a chicken. She likes the native chickens and Ela told her they are cheap in the next town over. She killed the chicken in the corn field while I harvested my radishes and planted broccoli, carrots and spinach in my plot. 

Isabel sent Henrick to my house to let me and Nic know that lunch was ready. I brought my fresh radishes down, sliced and salted, only lacking lime juice. She served us Pepian, the national dish of Guatemala. It is more or less chicken served in a gravy over rice. Not bad with hot tortillas. We sat around the table with Doña Ana, Cata and her husband Oscar, Ela with Elkin, Hendrick and of course Fernandito and let the kids entertain us.

After lunch I received hugs and gifts. Cata and Oscar gave me a beautiful shoulder bag and from Fernandito, with the aid of Cata, his mom, a corte. Cortes are the traditional skirts the women wear here; hand woven and embroidered. Cata and Isabel said they would loan me a guipil, a blouse, and a faja, a belt so I could dress in traditional traje. 

Notice Isabel in the background. She is quick to laugh. Especially at the gringa in traje.  

Here we are in the yard. From left is Cata and Fernandito, myself and Isabel. 

Fernando loves the garden. As soon as he spotted these tools laying around he was in the garden digging. And he wants YOU, to plant a garden. 

More fun time in the garden. Nic and Fernando crack themselves up playing in the dirt. 

The Rainy Season

The last eight months or so I have felt kind of smug; enjoying the hot sun on the hills of the Western Highlands that was my new Guatemalan home. I sat on my front porch, squinting in the brilliant sky reading books, eating breakfast or just watching migrating song birds jump back and forth on branches; all the while seeing the hills around me fade from lush green to dry, dusty, even-toned brown. I couldn't help hiding a little smile as I applied sun screen to the bridge of my nose and the back of my neck while hearing about snow, rain and cold from friends and family back home. 

As I left Oregon to return to Guatemala, I left Oregon in what may be it's best season; late spring/early summer. And everyone at home told me what fortune I had in catching such wonderful weather while I was there, that it had just turned. The rainy season had officially started here in Guatemala in the last week of April, and it was pleasant, I must say.  Brilliant mornings with clouds slowly rolling in to release a shower by afternoon; allowing me to settle down with a book after a morning in the gardens. Because of this, upon my return to Guate I envisioned the country lush and green again, still warm with light sprinklings, just enough to make one put on a jacket. I was leaving beautiful weather in Oregon to arrive in beautiful weather in Guatemala. I was still smug. 

Well, things have changed, as they tend to do. It has rained for approximately the last 60 hours with little to no break and no end in sight. It is cold and windy. I am dressed in wool socks, multiple layers and a beany. If I need to use the restroom, I dress as if I were headed out on a hike: boots, hat, headlamp. If I need to wash my hands or some vegetables, wash the dishes or just fill up my kettle, I have to awkwardly arrange my umbrella between my right shoulder and my right cheek while kind of hunched over, stabilizing the handle on the edge of the sink to free my hands, all the while my feet are being flooded by the run-off from the yard. 

The path from the main road to my house, once leisurely and interesting is now an obstacle course of mud pits, low branches that catch my umbrella, slick inclines and corn stalks that have been knocked over by wind and laid low by the weight of the rain drops themselves. All the while I am timing myself; will I make it home before I either slip in the mud or completely soak and soil my shoes and socks? 

I don't feel smug any more. Now when I hear from friends and family they are talking about picnics, raft trips, bike rides and afternoons in the park. Now when I hear from them I am hanging up my dripping rain jacket and putting on water for tea to warm me up. 

Yes, of course, I knew it was coming. And yes, of course, it is not all bad. Sixty hours of rain leaves ample time for games of Canasta with Nic, baking cinnamon rolls, making elaborate dinners, catching up on reading and, as it turns out, blogs. 

Dia de la Madre

I work with a women's group. Of course we had to do something for Mother's Day! Ela invited all the women of our group, about 50 or so, to celebrate. Tuesday we pulled tables out from houses and brought ovens out from kitchens, placed them in my dirt yard and made cakes. Nine cakes.

Ela and I darted in and out of the house, grabbing clean spoons and salt, while the women worked away. 

It's always a team effort, with plenty of bystanders. 

Happily mixing. The cakes turned out great and were ready for the party the next day. 

And then the festivities began. I didn't have much planned for the day; an activity where they share what their mothers' taught them, what they like about motherhood, etc. From there, Ela took over the party really started. 

She taught us all kinds of games. Musical chairs got the women started...

Not long after that we couldn't stop the laughter. It's so fun to see these women cutting loose together and laughing. They are huge goofballs. 

The mothers of Chirijox. We had about 40 women show up that day and each contributed a word or a laugh that made the party a success.  

Pura Vida

It had been a while since Hendrick had knocked on my door. Maybe because the rains have begun and suddenly leaving those house doesn't sound as fun, even for a 5-year-old. At first it was nice to have afternoons to myself, but over the last week or so I started to miss the little rascal. This afternoon, the knock came again. I always know it's him because I can hear that the knock is low on the frame due to the thinness of my door, and also because the knock is immediately followed with a call of my name. 

I was talking with Nic on the phone when he came in. I asked him if he wanted to play cards when I finished talking to Nic, and he asked if he could wait with me. 

Once I hung up the phone I asked Henrick if he wanted some warm milk. He had never tried it before and seemed politely skeptical. His face gives it away. I assured him he would like it. He walked to my shelf and found a shot glass I inherited from the previous volunteer. Hendrick asked if he could try the warm milk out of that glass because it is small. 

We began to play Go Fish as the milk warmed on my two-burner gas stove. The thunder began. I poured Hendrick's glass full of two ounces of warm milk in the middle of the game. He didn't take a sip until about two rounds later and I could see in his face he liked it. A few more rounds later he asked if there was more. Once we finished the game, me with my mug and he with his shot glass, we talked about life. I asked him his favorite things and he told me secrets. Hendrick sat back in his chair, shot glass in his hand and milk mustache fresh on his lips and declared, "Esta es pura vida", "This is pure life". I smiled and agreed, followed by a tremendous sneeze. Hendrick said, "Salud!", "Health!" and offered his shot glass in the air. I brought my mug up to meet his with a "clink". We both drank, Hendrick tipping his head back to get all the milk. He held out his glass for more milk. Each time, two ounces by two ounces, until the small metal pitcher of milk was empty, we toasted to each other's health. This is pure life. 

Ode to Fernandito

I don't think I've given much mention to Fernandito. Fernando is the son of my counterpart's husband's sister. Got that? So if I am part of the family, then he would be my nephew. I feel like I've profiled some of the other folks in my life here in Guate, and now it is Fernandito's time to shine. 

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It was Fernando's (aka Fernandito or for short, Ener) birthday a few weekends ago. He has completed two years now. Sadly,  I have no pictures of the party or how sharp he looked as I had to take an unexpected and rapid trip to the capital that day. 

Fernando is a cute kid. He reminds me of a muppet. It has taken him probably the whole 6 months I've been at site to warm up to me. When I first arrived, when I would say hi to him he would cry, literally. Now, we're buds. When he comes up to my house to visit his grandpa, Don Juan, he comes right in my house is search of my giant exercise ball. I guess that's the sign of true friendship, when someone just walks in your house and takes your things. 

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Ela and Benancio went to Xela yesterday. Whenever they go to Xela, they bring back weird cookies or candies for the kids. Yesterday, when Fernandito came up for a visit I thought he was eating ink. Turns out, it's a grape-flavored liquid candy that was all over his mouth, hands and dripping down his chin. See below. 

I had to get a photo of this. I was trying to get just his mouth, so Ana, a lady who helps care for him that was with him, told him to remove the candy from his mouth and smile. Here's what I got:

In case you need a close up, I have that too: 

Chiqabal

Last weekend a group of us got together to celebrate some birthdays. This lake, Chiqabal, is about a two hour hike from a volunteer's sight. After burning thighs, getting slightly lost in on a jungly path and staving off the rain we arrived. 

From the lookout. 

According to Jerami and Zane, there were something like 538 stairs; parts were quite steep, as shown here. 

On our way down...

This lake is considered a holy place by local Mayans. While we were there a group of people were having a ceremony across the lake. 

The fog continually rolled over the ridge and gently fell onto the lake. It was such a beautiful sight.