Happy Friday

Heard from the director of the NGO from Wednesday; apparently our graduation speeches were a huge hit. I'm being asked to speak at two more ceremonies in the next few months. Who knew…

Had my first real women's group meeting this morning, and after the town-hall meeting fiasco last week, I was a bit hesitant going up there today. But it turned out to be really productive. We all met at the church at 9 (aka 9:30)…about 25 women showed up! I didn't bring much of a plan because I wanted to keep it pretty unstructured. After about 20 minutes of initial awkwardness (them speaking to one another in Q'eqchi', me helplessly trying to figure out what was going on), they started grilling me: what is the U.S. like, do I have a husband, do I have children, why in the world don't I have a husband or children, what do I think about Guatemala, if I will marry a Guatemalan, etc. They also loved my caites, these little rubber jelly-sandals that all the women here wear (I bought a pair at the market…they've proven to hold up well on the rocky roads). I felt like I was making some progress with the group; earning their trust. And sure enough, after a little chatting, they decided to get down to business. They said they'd been discussing possible projects for the group, and decided that what they wanted most were pilas, one for each of the women in the group. I was baffled…I thought everybody here had a pila. A pila is basically a three-compartment water cistern/utility sink. The water is collected in the middle (about 10 gallons) and then the two side compartments are used for washing dishes and clothes, by scooping the water out of the middle with a comal, or a dipping bowl. Without pilas, the women explained, all washing has to be done with "piedra y tabla". I was having trouble understanding what they meant, so they decided to take me to one of their houses to show me. With no running water, they have to collect rain water in these big plastic vats, and when they need to wash clothes, they use a stone and what looks like a big wooden door that's been laid flat across a horse. Using the door (tabla) as the surface, they pour water and soap over the clothes, using a stone (piedra) as a scrubber against the wood. I was amazed. As a joke they handed me some clothes to wash, so I went along with it and went to work on a shirt. And oh did they get a kick out of watching me struggle. The home visit turned into 25 Q'eqchi'-speaking Guatemalan women teaching me the proper way to wash a shirt using a door, a stone, and rainwater. I got it down, though.

I told them I would help them with their project, but made sure to explain that we would have to earn the money to buy the pilas together, and that it might take a while. I'm going to look into resources for getting some funds for the pilas. Because really, they're not asking for much.

They also decided that next week they'd also teach me how to make tortillas, since a girl who can't wash a shirt surely can't make a good tortilla (which I can't). And I'm going to show them how to make rice-crispy treats. I hope I can keep this group going, it could be a really good thing. After just one morning in their village I feel more accepted by these women than anybody here in Campur. One of the women even invited me to her son's birthday party tomorrow. That's the first invite I've gotten since getting to site.

Tomorrow I'm heading out to Coban for my welcome party. The rest of the volunteers in Alta/Baja Verapaz are throwing us newbies a party in San Cristobal. I'm excited to meet the rest of the volunteers from this area and have a night to relax and speak in English for a while. It'll also be really nice to have a beer or two since it's impossible for me to drink in-site--if I was seen buying alcohol, which I would be if I bought any, I could ruin my reputation here…women don't drink in this culture, and the Evangelicals don't, either. It's really hasn't been a problem, but I do miss the freedom of having a glass of wine with dinner. Anyways, it'll be nice to get away this weekend, get some good Coban grub, and meet some fellow PCV's.

Tonight, however, it'll just be me, my hammock, a big bowl of stove-top popcorn, and a good book.