At the end of a day as long this election season, we gathered in a circle. We were down two volunteers (one: sick, one: ready for bed). 

Today, there were several wake-up calls, one right after the other. A lot of moments when reality was brought back into the picture. Safety training, health training, language training, cultural diversity. 

“Is it weird for women to run on the street here?” “Yes.”

“Two volunteers have been raped, but we can’t talk about that situation.” 

Today was the whole enchilada.

Breakfast at 7am, 7:30am Training Begins. We were a few minutes late leaving the hotel with our things. 

Craig Badger, Training Director, presents. 

He has a kind face. I can tell I like this guy. When he was done, I loved the guy. 

He was in Guatemala from 1990-1994. He showed us a picture of the hut where he lived, on the Pacific side just next to the water. He’s from Minnesota, but they recruited him to study turtles and ocean life in Guatemala. He brought materials on his boat to build out his windows and doors in his mud hut. For a bathroom, they gave him a shovel. Eventually, he built a latrine for himself. He is married to a Guatemalan and has two houses: one in Santa Lucia Miltas Alpas (city where the office is) and one elsewhere.

Peace Corps is different now. We could be in a third world country working an 8-5 job, providing skills in our areas of expertise. Our home assignments are assessed thoroughly beforehand and there are specific requirements for the home. We are working in normal work environments, not digging out holes to poop in and studying turtles in the wilderness.

Next, Health training. The doctors we met straight out the gate yesterday, still both in blue scrubs, present more about Peace Corps Guatemala. Dengue fever, zika, the number to call in an emergency, The most staggering statistic (in my mind): Within the first year of training, 95% of us will be sexually active. You will get your vaccinations on Tuesdays during training. You will receive mosquito nets, you will receive first aid kits. You will get acute diarrhea.

Each year, 1 to 3 PCVs become pregnant in Guatemala. “If you decide to keep the child” he said. “You can stay through the Peace Corps through 20 weeks of your pregnancy, then you have to return home. If you decide not to keep the baby, you will be mede-vac’d to DC or closer to home, depending, for the procedure. There was no judgment placed on either decision, nor on being sexually active. In fact, they said “It’s okay- we are sexual beings.” There are condoms in a bowl in the health office as you walk in. We’re not in the South anymore, Toto. We’re further south than the South and they still give us condoms. We discussed malaria, treatment plans. (I took notes to reassure/assuage my Mom). 

Next, I had my Language Proficiency Interview with Mirsa. She asked me about Theatre and Alaska. I believe she told me that my level seems to be “Mid-Intermediate” but that will be confirmed tomorrow, she says. My Spanish was, well, lumpy and holey and all manner of textures. There were words I could not remember, quite a few. Training on DuoLingo made the words feel slightly closer than my initial phone call in July. 75% of the language is in a room I can peer through the window of but I ain’t got no key. 

Afterwards, Nandi and I interviewed each other. Nandi is a beautiful black woman with a great, laidback personality. She wears African style head-wraps sometimes and really cool clothes. I like her. They delivered a big plate of snacks to us of colorful fruit, the colors were as glorious as fruit is meant to be. Galen and Leslie joined us and I shared a bit more about Alaska. 

It’s funny to me that Alaska is just as mysterious to Americans as it is to Guatemalans. Alaska is it’s own mystery. But not to me. As I walked down the sidewalk to get my Hep A shot (which I confirmed I already had, thank you), I thought I almost stepped on a slug and then I remembered I wasn’t in Alaska. My summer in Alaska came up again over lunch with Eloise. I told her the same unexpected facts about Ketchikan that I told the tourists: We are in the US’s largest national rainforest. It rains 13 feet a year here. 

We went over immunization records in the Medical Office.

I was late for lunch because of the immunizations, but I grabbed lunch just before it was put away. I can say, they make sure we don’t go hungry here. There are hot tortillas wrapped in fabric in every meal. I sat with Eloise, asked if her family had heard from her yet. She wasn’t able to call yet.  

Safety Training with Ariel. Theft is the biggest issue. Don’t bring valuables with you. Don’t bring all your cash with you. I was nearly asleep sitting down during safety training. I kept getting up to get more coffee.

Police corruption does exist. If we are concerned about a safety issue, we talk to Peace Corps via Ariel. We don’t talk to the police. It hadn’t occurred to me that the police would try to take advantage. In the US I would say I trust the police, but with the police brutality of late, I know that is my white privilege.

After safety training, we did another get-to-know-you activity. We introduced ourselves to the group by sharing our interview results to everyone else. It was rapid-paced in a circle and fun. I introduced Nandi and she introduced me. I think we are starting to gel more and more. I was amazed at the interesting backgrounds and stories of what people used to do professionally. I like everyone and I even really like most everyone. That’s unusual for me, and I am excited about it. 

During the game I had to leave to do my ten-minute interview with my “bosses,” Craig and with Rocío (she is a lady, originally from Mexico but has lived in Guatemala for several years). 

Back to the game: I said “I love my neighbor who loves hip hop more than they love themselves” and whoever this is true for stands up and finds a new seat. One person will not find a seat and starts over with a “I love my neighbor who..” statement. After I said my hip hop statement, no one got up. I made this big scene and everyone was cracking up.

This day felt eternal and by 2pm I needed something. I needed chocolate. I went and bought candy bars with my girl Teawan. We asked permission if we could go outside and buy chocolate off the street, but she was still nervous. We still don’t know the rules about leaving the office and where to go and for how long. I bought a chocolate bar called “Granada” from a street store. It was 5 quetzales (like $.75). I ate it in one sitting.

The afternoon waxed on and eventually we were back at the hotel eating dinner.

During dinner, I got to hear more from a current volunteer Adrianna. She is the hippest chick but I hadn’t been able to really sit down with her yet. Cristina and I were asking her questions (and I think Galen and Clint were there but I can’t recall!) She was talking about her host family, her site, her work. She has tried to push for a new work proposal and she is finally making headway. We congratulated her. She is one year in to her service so it’s so interesting to hear her talk about it. She said she is good with Spanish but she wants to learn slang now. She says even if you speak Spanish, learning Guatemalan Spanish has it’s exclusivities of course. We were interviewing her rapid fire.

I shared with Adrianna, and the table, how frustrating it has been to explain Peace Corps to people back home, but I’ve learned during training that it is also my job as a PCV. I need to inform friends and family back home about what I am doing here. Everyone has a predetermined idea about peace corps, usually that I am out in the bush somewhere, and it’s my job to color in the lines. But my specific anxiety is about going home to a wedding in July because I don’t want to talk about Peace Corps the whole time I am at home. I know my family is going to be polite and ask me questions, every time I see someone, but I won’t probably want to talk about. I will want to be at the wedding. Also because a part of me thinks they are asking because that’s what you’re supposed to do with Peace Corps Volunteers. “Oh you’re in Peace Corps. Let me ask you a million questions. I’m supposed to do that.” So I think I will send them a note in advance of the wedding. Hey, Peace Corps is great. Hey, I keep a blog. Hey, I will want a break from talking about it at the wedding and just be a normal American citizen for a week, if that’s okay with you guys.. 

We play another get-to-know-you group activity (are you sensing a theme?) and it was hilarious. At this point, I feel like everybody regards me and Francisco as the comedians. There were a lot of laughs all around, we were all surprised by the secret facts each person revealed about themselves. Essentially, we had to match photos, names and secret facts and see how many we got right. We played in two groups.

We played one more game (honestly I don’t even remember which) and afterwards I asked them if we could wait for the diversity discussion because we were all tired! We should have started with the diversity “charla” and then played the games. But I’m glad I stayed up for the conversation.

Our two current volunteers shared their experience being minorities. 

I knew that the guy was gay. I assumed the gal’s minority experience was her race. 

As they told both of their stories, they painted a picture of the topography of what it’s really like to be a volunteer here. I will write in more detail in a separate post. It was guttural and hard and it kicked up a lot of churning thoughts and emotion about my own white privilege, my own comfortable and passive acceptance of stereotypes and racism and heteronormative exclusivity. 

I was so grateful for that discussion. Of all the things we did during training, it was one of the most powerful.