My host mom sat with me in the back of her car and her two sons sat up front. Francisco & Javier are in their 30s, Rosa Maria is in her mid-50s.
It struck me that she was not sitting in the front. I didn’t like it.
In my mind, it’s a sign of respect to the let the oldest person, especially but not exclusively the woman, sit in the front seat. It is a common courtesy.
I wondered if she would have been sitting in the front had I not been there.
Were they trying to avoid having me sit next to one of the sons, as that would be inappropriate?
I don’t feel comfortable asking, of course. It’s not something I need to know.
It was only the second day I lived with them. I know that gender roles here are very different, and men and women don’t have platonic friendships.
It made me wonder. And it bothered me.
The Stare:
We have language class at a different house each week. Clint, Tanya, Amanda and I all live in Ciudad Vieja (for training only) so we will rotate having class at our host family houses each week.
We were at Doña Fabiana’s house last week. There is a young guy who sits and stares at us during class. He sits and stares during our snack break. He sits and stares when we’re not there, too. He simply stares.
It’s that I don’t understand the stare.
His wife lives there, his two daughters are there, he doesn’t work. He stares. It’s a glossed-over stare, it is not an engaged one.
It is unfamiliar to me.
Public Breastfeeding:
The women here breastfeed without covering their bodies or children.
I think because women have more children here and at a younger age than in the US, it would be a lot to ask them to cover up every time.
But maybe they simply have no reason to cover up. They are doing a natural thing and they aren’t compelled to conceal it.
It’s funny to me that the US is trying to develop this Guatemalan trait, but we see ourselves as the developed country.
Regardless, I’m not accustomed to it. I was at a (5 hour) party tonight and it must have happened 5 times. One mom sipped on her beer while her kid sucked on her breast. I know the beer isn’t in her system yet but it looked unusual.
I have friends on Facebook who are very boisterous on the matter of public breastfeeding (in favor of). I don’t have a strong opinion as breastfeeding is irrelevant to me. Except now I see it at parties. Chilero.
Shapes:
My host mom asked me one day “Siempre has sido delgada?” “Have you always been thin?” I truly did not know how to respond.
I said “I guess so. I gained weight in college because I ate a lot of pizza. Like 15 or 20 pounds more than now.”
In general, people here are comfortable referring to your body shape.
They will call you gordita. They will call you flacita. They will tell you if you used to be flacita but now you’re gordita. At parties, they might refer to the big guy as “gordito.” They probably do the same to the women or girls I just haven’t experienced it yet.
Is this encouraged by the culture’s relationship with food? I don’t know.
One of the other PCTs said her host dad asked: “Do you practice anorexia?” because she wasn’t eating much in his eyes. To me, this girl is normal and healthy. Nothing about her appears anorexic.
In the United States, we are only allowed to comment on someone’s body when part of it has disappeared.
Here, you talk about body shape like it’s open to the public.
Death:
In 2011, more than half of the population of Guatemala was under age 19.
I don’t know all the reasons why this is- I don’t know if the adults leave or die and what happens more commonly.
Google says the life expectancy is 71 years old (a la 2012). I’m not sure.
Tonight at the party, Rosa Maria introduced me to her niece. She told me her niece’s mother (Rosa Maria’s sister) died when she was 30. That means her niece was 2 when her mom died. They both spoke about it matter-of-factly. There was no remorse or “what a shame” factor, it was purely fact-sharing.
Rosa Maria’s husband is also gone. He died when he was 53. She told me this when I first came into the house. She pointed to his large picture on the living room wall and said “My husband died when he was very young.” I asked her when. She said “Three years ago.” She said “But it is okay.”
I know that she misses him. I know that there are times it must not feel okay. But she always seems happy. She seems to have accepted that he is gone. It makes me wonder if that is why she likes to host people like me, to keep her busy in the home.
I was at another party recently and a man was too sad to speak. My host mom told me his baby died recently.
The reality of death is more prevalent here than in my country. Of course we have cancer, we have car crashes, people die unexpectedly and they die young. Americans are not invulnerable to death.
But we laugh about the concept of death. We say “That almost killed me” in hyperbole, “you are going to die” when we threaten our siblings. “I nearly laughed to death” “I saw my life flash before my eyes” “I’m dying of heat” “I’m starving.”
In Guatemala, and many other places, I think death is a little too close to be used hyperbolically. Maybe they do use it hyperbolically. I’m not sure yet. At home, premature death it is an unlikely fear. Here, it seems like a heinous lottery.
But what I notice is that they carry on. They mention the loss of loved ones like they mention the birth of another. When they talk about the loved ones they’ve lost, it’s without the lugubrious show of emotion.
I’ve been talking more about losing my 87 year-old grandmother than my host mom has talked about losing her 53 year-old spouse. I know Nana had a long life but I still look at her loss as a horrible thing. But living to 87 is something to celebrate here. My host mom said Nana had a life “muy grande.” She is right.
