I woke up in enough time to get dressed and go to morning school. I already felt the lethargy heavy on my eyelids but I kept going. I figure, every step I take is a step towards knowing something I didn’t know about myself, about life, even if it means a little loss, surely it means a little gain. (I’ve been going through a recent heartbreak, for those just tuning in). The weather was cloudy and cold, the sun didn’t make an appearance all day long.

As I walked to school I remembered… the power is out, and both of my professors use powerpoint presentations. Puchica, what if they both tell me they can’t do their sessions today because se fue la laz (sessions have been cancelled for lesser things)…. But when I walked into the primero classroom (6th grade), Profe Roberto was preparing his session on paper. He was cutting out the physical effects of drugs to the vital organs. I am glad I gave the teachers digital and printed copies for this reason, because YOU NEVER KNOW. Sometimes the power goes out all day… ‘mantenimiento’ (maintenance). In the US, heads would roll. Or are there towns that lose power all day? I don’t pretend to know the reality of my entire country. I digress.

Profe Roberto finished the session (I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, he is an excellent teacher). The students were yelling out: “depresores!’ ‘estimulantes!’ ‘alucinógenos’ to his questions. I should really take the time to remind myself that if I hadn’t extended, this session wouldn’t be happening.. and maybe these teachers will use this content down the line when I am not here. It is wishful thinking, I know the reality, but. still. Maybe it helped some kid somewhere be more prepared for this world, and the teachers to be a bit more equipped on how to prepare them for it. But that’s how change happens everywhere, right? It’s not about Guatemala being better, it’s about all of us. Some small spark, some motivation, some bit of knowledge or influence pushes us to consider an alternative, and we try it. That’s what Peace Corps service is (among so many other tortillas and things).

I shook Profe Roberto’s hand and, as miracles would have it, knocked on Profe Miguel’s classroom door to find that he was starting his third session on the effects of drug use as well, SIN LUZ, folks. SIN LUZ. He had printed out copies ready for all of the students. While the session was a bit under-stimulating, I liked his activity at the end. He prepared questions on paper and passed them around the room hot potato style. When the tapping stopped, the students had to respond to the question. I was proud. I took notes on my trusty lined notebook paper because I was out of ‘observation sheets’ and guess who can’t print photocopies without power? So I was improvising, too.

I shook Profe Miguel’s hand and explained my schedule for the upcoming weeks: “I will be in Huehue from the 12th-15th, and the following week I will be… etc. etc.” Nos pusimos de acuerdo and I ran home for lunch. My host Mom and sister were so cute, arranging what I know is going to be a gift to me. They made woven bags for my whole family (in the States) when my parents came to visit in April. I mean, they even sent one for my brother-in-law and sister, and they made one for me. They must have been weaving for two weeks straight… that’s a lot of time and money. And I know that this bag is for me because it is all the colors I picked out for Sabrina’s bag for her COS present. ‘Unicorn palette.’ (Well and cuz they told me: we are going to make you another bag). Thankfully the power came back on.

I ate lunch and my family offered me white beans to go with whatever else I ate. I walked down to Barrio San Antonio. I arrived in time for the session and Profe Miguel (the other Profe Miguel) wasn’t totally prepared to deliver the session or activities, however, I think the students learned about drug use prevention strategies. Por lo menos, they were reminded about the definition of abstinence as it relates to drug use. WE’LL SEE ON THE POST TESTS.

I helped take the materials off of the board (which I wonder to myself, would a male volunteer be so quick to do a menial task or have I accepted this as my role as a woman?) I handed Profe the papers and headed home. It was a productive day: three charlas observed, and plans in place for the next ones. As I left Barrio San Antonio, I ran into the kids on the street who recognize me and stare. I saw the family Sobén with 6 children whose youngest is my namesake (I asked for it, it’s a long story). They said: “We will come up tonight to visit!” I was happy for the potential distraction. What would I eat for dinner? I bought two large pieces of sweet bread and demolished them both. Later, I ate an avocado with a tortilla so my host family knew I ate something.

I heard a knock on the door and saw three familiar faces: two Claras and a little man named Ricardo. Imagine: in my house, in that moment, there were 4 Claras. Clara, the Aunt, is my age exactly: 32. I wasn’t sure what the motivo of this visit was, other than to visit, but if I had been Guatemalan, I would have offered them sugary instant coffee and bread. But I am not Guatemalan so instead I apologized for not having any. I’m sure it was a social faux pas but I hardly have enough seats for them to sit in, much less snacks.

We sat for an hour and colored. At the end I gave little Clara (the oldest sister) my pillow she kept holding and sent them home with my last pack of markers. I am getting rid of stuff, poco a poco. Little Clara left me a drawing and I gave Clarivel (Aunt Clara, 32) my name for facebook so she can send me a friend request tomorrow. With that I sprayed myself with Off!, put in my retainers and watched some Dr. Pimple Popper on youtube. The sadness sticks to me like a cyst wall, myself just filling up with more tears even when I try to pop it away (just a little popaholic humor to gross you out). But seriously, I recommend it for the lonely, grieving, or bored. Happy Lunes, and to all a good night.