Guatemala/Nicaragua/Peru

2d Post from Peru

2011-03-15T18:56:00.000-07:00

Am about to leave Cuzco and the Sacred Valley for Chiclayo tomorrow. Been around here since the 25th of February, with the exception of a short trip to Lake Titicaca. Nice to see the antiplano from the bus. Easy ride, cheap, comfortable. We just got our tickets from the bus station and off we went. The islands in the lake are super. The floating islands not so much, but Taquile is beautiful and that was worth it.

My impressions of the people hold true still. They are so warm. I have made acquaintances with a lot of people. Of course, it helps to be able to chat people up some. My spanish isn´t that great but it is enough to do that. Claudia and Miluska from Chez Maggie on Plateros have been particularly warm. That is where I found my first piano and they were so nice to me, telling me to play whenever I wanted, when the place was full or empty, nevermind when. And lots of kisses all around. The folks at the various hotels have been quite nice, too. My favorite has been Noemí at Suecia 1, so I´ll have to go back to see her.

What thing that surprises me is that there seems to be no central clearing house and info center for volunteer activities in Cuzco department. Both in Antigua and Xela, GT, there were organizations dedicated to keeping a list of organizations and their needs and wants with respect to volunteers. Also a completely unrelated thing is there seem to be no places to go and hang to watch film. I am thinking perhaps to combine the clearinghouse for volunteers with a place to show films. The film fee could support the volunteer organizing work . . . . and if it were possible to sell beer to movie goers, even more money could be raised for the charity side. I have always wanted to have a movie theater anyhow . . . . and there could be a POPcorn machine. Too much fun.

Anyhow, I did finally meet Luz, who Art referred me to and by a ridiculous coincidence someone else I know took spanish lessons from her in the past (canoers we know). She is great! And it turns out that she comes to Seattle and has friends there, so it will be great to see her again. She and her friend Birgit are interested in Art´s stove project. Will discuss this when get back.

My favorite things have been the trips to the sacred valley and every town there so far where I spent any time at all I like. Ollantaytambo and Chinchero and Pisac. With their easy access to Cuzco, any one could be a good place to work, at least a couple of days a week in a clinic, or in some other way. I haven´t spent time in Urubamba, just blown through. It would be good to come back and visit the rest of the towns in the valley.

Cuzco is so very touristy and in that way reminds me of Antigua. We have lived right off Plaza de Armas and one gets solicited constantly because of the color of one´s hair and skin. I think my face has become familiar by now and so it has let up a lot. And when you are first there you feel you should at least say no gracias, but now I rarely acknowledge the solicitations with anything but a smile while continuing to walk straight ahead. It is rather dehumanizing, the whole thing. I have yet to meet anyone who isn´t majoring in tourism at school. Really. And I have met a ton of people. Never any incidents of theft or attempted theft.

My abiding feeling about this place, this department, and Peruvians at this point is that they are very warm, work very hard to put it together, and are proud of their culture and heritage, as well they should be. The inka buildings in Cuzco and around are massively impressive. And of course the Spanish created churches on top of many inka buildings are amazing for their gold leaf and intensely decorative wood carvings.

The crafts as I have said before are mindblowing and are a must for anyone interested in textiles.

I don´t think I mentioned that while the weather is very changeable at this time of the year, the only time we really got skunked is when we went to Machu Pichu, a bummer because it is a journey that takes time and costs a fair amount of money. Oh well! We had about a half hour of nonpouring down rain where you could actually see something. When I get the fotos up for that part and forward for the trip, you will notice how cloudy and wet even the good 1/2 hour was!

The weather is now turning colder and rainier . . . ........... kind of falling apart-- so it is good to be off to Chiclayo on the north coast of Peru where it is 75 and sunny. It will be a nice change. Talk to you then! And I will try to put up more fotos either on facebook or some other website

Peru, 2011, Feb-March

2011-03-07T08:06:00.000-08:00

This is my first post on this blog since ending my central american work in march of 2009. I have not been out of the country since then. I came to Peru with a friend from Seattle and her sister. This is the first time I have been in Latin America as a tourist. I knew when leaving it wouldn´t be easy for me to be a tourist and because my friend and I have different interests. My interests are in the people, how they live, the politics of the country, the history including AFTER the pre-colonial period. I like ruins okay, but after a while, they look similar. Reading about the live of the indigenous people precolonial is interesting to me and after too, but just roaming around ruins all day, not so much. Also, my friends like to shop, shop, shop and I don´t have any use for it. So, it is challenging. But I go along to see the countryside and to chat with people and to see the people.

So, arriving in Cuzco at almost 11,000 feet with no sleep for well over 24 hours, it was exhausting. But we had a little hotel reserved in the center of Cuszco and it was fine, if cold and a bit more expensive than necessary. Because of snoring on my friends´part, I found another place that cost less than the triple for a double and a single and right off the plaza de las armas, the center of cultural Cuzco, so we are good. Also it is hard to sleep for several nights I think because of the altitude. My friends bought the general boleta that you need to get into several sites in and around Cuzco and in the Sacred Valley but I did not. I decided to pick the places to go, although some you cannot enter without the general boleta. But it is not a big deal to me. I feel as if I will come back here anyhow, probably with Pat and Dorcas, my friends from DC.

Impressions now are that Cuzco is a much safer city than Antigua. People are out at all hours and it feels okay. Sure, probably if I were coming home and not taking care very late, especially alone, it might not be okay, but so far, we have felt great about it. Also, it is easy to walk just about anywhere in town. After you leave the center, it gets more hectic and more polluted, but the cultural center is quite civilized. of course you have to be careful not to get hit crossing the street.

The weather has been like Seattle only warmer most of the time. Betwee 40s and low 60s in Cuzco, with rain mostly at night. We went out by van to Ollanta last Wed. with this little agency where I met Julio, who owns it. Very cute. And then onto Aguas Calientes (Machu Picchu city) by Peru rail, which was a wonderful ride, all along the Urubamba river, which is roiling and full of mud because of the rainy season we are in. Every now and then the trains have to stop to clear slides from the way or shore up the tracks, but we were able to proceed as planned. Unfortunately, the day we chose to go to MP, it rained all day. We had about a half hour of dry, visible time at the ruins and that was it. It costs a lot of money to go there, get in, the bus, the train, etc. and we got rained out, but at least we saw a small part of it. There are of course so many inka ruins around here that it is no great loss, I guess. And a lot of the fun is going down on the train and viewing the countryside, which is absolutely spectacular. On the way back, we stopped in the Sacred Valley and stayed two nights in Ollantaytambo (Ollanta), which is just spectacular. A small village with beautiful stone walls and inka ruins going straight up behind the little town and all around, really. it is closed in by massive peaks littered with inka ruins. I would go back to Ollanta and spend a lot more time hiking around and outside of it. Then we went on to Chincero, a small village between Ollanta and Cuzco, and we were fortunate to see the year´s Carnaval in progress, with the whole Quecha village in traditional dress and performing traditional dances all day. We stopped in a textile coop that Carol knew of from a prior trip and she knows the diretor who has set up these coops all over Peru to benefit the indigenous women who do wonderful work. She and Judy her sister bought tons of things all day, and every day they buy things either in Cuzco or in the Sacred Valley.

The scenery in Chicero is equally gorgeous and of course there are inka ruins there, too. I cannot describe how beautiful the landscape is here in the highlands. The landscape is very open with broad fertile valleys growing maize, papas (80 plus varieties), peas, squash, you name it, and dotted with sheep, llamas, alpacas, cows, horses, and people in traditional and not so traditional dress (the older ones more traditional of course) wandering around in the landscape living their lives, driving sheep herds, etc.

The artinsenary of the people is amazing. Using and carving calabeza with intricate inka designs, and using and weaving alpaca, sheeps wool, etc into everything imaginable. Also beautiful water color paintings are sold by students in the streets of Cuzco. Every manner of textiles made into hats, scarves, gloves, pants, shirts, belts, sweaters, shawls. So gorgeous it boggles the mind. For me, just to look, see and appreciate is enough. I don´t want to possess them, although I realize that buying helps the people. I can´t carry these things on my back already I have a heavy load. So I invite you to come and see for yourself! Especially my sister in law who weaves and anyone else who is a weaver would so love to see, feel, appreciate this work.

We also took a day to go to Maras and Moray and the Salineras there. Only a ruin and some salt flats, but again a nice ride in the countryside with a lovely young man from Urubamba with a wife and two children making a living driving a taxi around the valley. He was so kind, patient, and a great driver, very honest, etc. I have to say that I have not met or interacted with anyone here who is not kind, fun, patient, and just simply lovely. It is a contrast with experience in Guatemala and Nicaragua. That was okay, but really, I am just knocked out by the Peruvians so far.

Today I will do laundry, look for a book store, take a walk up to a very important ruin, go to the bank to get change to pay my debts, and I hope meet again Julio, our driver from Wednesday, who is adorable and fun to talk to. Then I hope we go up to Pisca in the sacred valley in the next couple of days. Plans are to go to Arequipa next, after Carol´s sister goes home, and then to Lima and the beach perhaps before coming home. We might stop in Puno for a night on the way to Arequipa so I can see the Lake (Titicaca).

I love hearing the folks in the country mixing Quecha and spanish and even english. It is a kick. And I am SO enjoying using the Spànish on a daily basis. So much fun to joke with people. I have not done anything about learning about politics so far and I am not sure if I will have time or not . . . . But one could always return to Peru and work for several months. I would like to get some basic health clinic volunteering under my belt. Perhaps back in Seattle in preparation for further work here in the future? There are opportunities, especially in the countryside. ANYhow, all for now. So glad I came here. The people, especially the indigenous people in the country, are gorgeous in every way.

What I leave behind in central america . . . . . .

2009-03-29T18:15:00.000-07:00

What's to come in the summer of 2009 . . . .

2009-03-29T18:11:00.000-07:00

Parque Central, Xela

2009-03-29T18:09:00.000-07:00

Around parque central, Xela

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Enrique and Mom, and Enrique and a piece of 2d Avenida

2009-03-29T17:58:00.000-07:00

Sara and Jorge, Jorge, and Enrique, the boys of 2d Avenida, well, some of them!

2009-03-29T17:55:00.000-07:00

from the 2d floor of apartment bldg, looking at Baul from top of my patio, looking at path to dogs & Almolonga, y

2009-03-29T17:52:00.000-07:00

Rosario, her stained glass shop, Magda and Luz at the Coffee Company

2009-03-29T17:49:00.000-07:00

Patio upstairs at the apartment, Xela

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Ktichen in the apartment

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One corner of the apartment in Xela

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Apartment in Xela

2009-03-29T17:40:00.000-07:00

3rd and Last Letter Home, March 25, 2009

2009-03-25T21:29:00.000-07:00

Well, this will be my third and last letter home this trip to central American. I left Managua on February 14, flying to Guatemala City and then traveled to Antigua for a couple of days before going up into the Western Highlands to Xela. The days in Antigua were uneventful, and all I did was say hello to a few people and get a haircut, recaptured my coffee grinder, went to brunch at a beautiful hotel in Antigua with a friend, and generally just drank in the beauty of Antigua.

The night before I left Managua, I went out with Susan, Richard, Douglas and a friend from Seattle who was visiting some old friends of hers in Nica and was having mixed feelings, but I always get this way when leaving some place. I had had very mixed feelings about leaving this fall for central America from Seattle. So I guess that says that there is enough good about every place that I feel nostalgic about leaving.

I was happy to arrive in Xela and immediately took up residence in barrio San Bartolomé, southeast of the center of town. I am renting a small efficiency apartment that is very pretty and also very much of a fish bowl, with windows opening onto the hotel’s indoor courtyard and into my neighbor’s courtyard, so I keep the drapes drawn much of the time, unfortunately. But it is really convenient, with a pila outside and a lot of clothesline up over the upper patio and in the back, so I have continued to wash my clothes by hand, although not forced to here, as there are even auto laundries. I had become so used to washing by hand in various forms over the past few months that it actually seemed like a luxury to have a pila right outside my door and a clothesline that actually works! (the line I used in the countryside of Nicaragua was either of barbed wire – not too great for the clothes – or was a metal line on which my prensa ropas (clothes pins) slid and often I would find various pieces of clothing way out at the end of the line, up in a tree, basically. It was funny).

Anyhow, I settled into this very cute, tiny apartment quickly and got started doing work for AIDG, which is only a couple of blocks from here. It is an organization based in the states, very small, that has an office here in Xela, and one in Haiti, and its aim is to help start small appropriate technology businesses to serve the rural poor. It has done that with a group called Xela Teco here in Xela. I am doing research on microfinance orgs for Xela Teco, so they can place their high efficiency wood stoves. The stoves are $130 and people don´t have that upfront. The problem is that almost all micro-financing is for people´s businesses, not to finance their buying a high efficiency stove, or anything else, for that matter.

This work experience with AIDG has turned out to be very limited in scope and not at all rewarding. Part of this is my fault, I guess. Because I have wifi here at the apartment and it is very comfortable and convenient to stay here and work, I have done my work mostly in the apartment. It has been very boring because it required no interaction with anyone. Moreover, the times I did go to the office, the people there were glued to their computers and really didn’t seem to have any time to talk or make friends. No one offered to tell me about or show me what projects were going on, nor did anyone offer any opportunity to take a trip into the countryside with folks doing real things . . . and so I didn’t make an effort, either. There were random invites to a couple of AIDG parties at the intern house (not formally made to me but I sort of found out about them from one person), two of which I went to, but the sameness of them (people standing or sitting around a fire outside freezing to death and drinking too much) led me to not go to a 3rd one and eventually I just stopped going to AIDG at all, except to meet with someone to hand over my work. I was glad I went to the second party, however, because there I met a guy from Michigan who grew up and worked for many years very near to where I grew up. He is a volunteer in San Lucas Tomilán near Lake Atitlán and had sold out of his family business early. He spends quite a bit of the year working as a volunteer at a Catholic mission in San Lucas. He is a very nice man and he was here taking Spanish for a couple of weeks to try to improve, and we fell in together and did a lot of things together during those two weeks. It was great to have someone to hike with, explore and go out to dinner and events with.

Although AIDG has been a bust, I continued to work with Grupo Fenix in Nicaragua via internet, mostly on copy and design for the website but also on other random things, and that is fun for me. I also encountered happier work here with another organization called Entremundos, the director of which grabbed me immediately upon finding out that I was an environmental lawyer. She is a lovely person and I have worked pretty steadily with a small group of four of us on the problem of plastic bag litter and what could be done. Entremundos would like to get national legislation passed to address the problem. Having just seen this whole thing develop in Seattle was a help, and now I know more than I thought possible about bans, green fees, and other types of remedies for this problem. It is of course complex, like anything else. In some places, especially where there are no good solid waste management strategies in place, as is the case in many developing countries, it is a very serious problem and results in infrastructure and health issues when storm drains are blocked, for instance. In any event, I really like the people I have been working on this and while I think that there are LOTS worse problems to get a grip on here in Guatemala – air pollution being one of them, and of course the things that everyone knows about Guatemala – the violence, the mob killings, the drug violence, the poverty of the indigenous communities, huge mining issues, on and on and on – indeed, just yesterday in Guate, 4 bus drivers were killed in the same day --- I still agreed to work on it and have been working this issue quite a bit. If I come back here, I would like to be involved in issues that I find more basic, more important. On the environment score, just thinking about the health of the population (and, selfishly, my own health, as I have developed some asthma just as a result of living here), air pollution is a very big one for me. It is just awful here in Xela, and what a shame, because I really like this town and the people here and everything about the way it feels, except the air pollution is killing me, probably literally. I cannot go out without a handkerchief to stem my running nose and eyes. I cough all morning every day, and when I go out, I often find myself having a hard time getting my breath. The pollution is partially from cars and buses in these incredibly narrow streets, from which black toxic smoke spews right onto the people who are squished up against the cars and buses. You simply cannot get away from it. Antigua is better because the streets are much wider and the buses are not in the center of town. Here, they run everywhere. But the pollution is from other sources as well. There is a ton of particulate matter from open construction areas, from garbage burning and burning to clear fields for cropping. In adddtion, I was told by one local friend yesterday, the cobblestone streets are held together by a lime like substance instead of cement, and it dries out and becomes airborne with the slightest touch. Xela is also subject to inversions, as it sits in a high mountain valley surrounded by volcanoes, and boy, is that a mess.

I have told you before that Xela is in the Western highlands of Guatemala, at 7,600 feet. It is cold in the am and evening and sunny and warm, usually, during the day, but no more than the 70s during the time I am here, and often the breeze makes it feel cooler. People here are very friendly and I get on with folks very well. Although it is the second biggest in Guatemala, it is NOTHING like Guatemala City. Nothing. People are lovely, it feels like a very small town (I think it is actually about 300,000), and I am situated about as well as one could hope for for the work I am doing, in the southeast part of town and only about 10 blocks to central park.

My experience here, though, is very different from my time in Nicaragua where I lived much of the times in the community of Sabana Grande. First, I am living alone, which is very different from the fun (and dirt) of living with Alejandra and Marcio and the kids in Sabana Grande and the constant stream of visitors at the house, people passing by, etc. I miss that a lot. I wish it were possible to live in the community in a little house that I could somehow keep clean and yet be a part of all of that activity. I love going by Marta’s and talking to Rosita the parrot, or going up to someone’s birthday party celebration – everyone in the community is related -- and the thought of growing my own papaya and banana trees.

It is SO hard to find the right balance in life, but being here alone in Xela maybe is what the universe planned for me to realize that it is important for me to be with people in a very real way. When I went to “get away” in Nicaragua, I was also with people all of the time as well, at the Laguna. And that was great, too. I love the Laguna and the way one could be with people or not, as one liked. But I have to admit that the BOREDOM factor in the countryside was great, too, and the fact that you just don´t talk on the same level with folks about the things that are swirling around in my head all of the time, the great questions of life, the bigger world issues, the workings of the development projects, all of that more intellectual stuff. The people there are just so removed from that . . . in the daily work of getting food grown and on the table, so much work to do to keep the kids feed. And there is the constant of the TV, one channel, filled with trash, and many of the middle age people there are not very educated.

So each place has its pluses and minuses. And if I come back to Xela I will try to live more communally and it will be cheaper, too. I like very much having my own kitchen and 24 hour wifi, but some things must be sacrificed for community and price! I LOVE the market here, the one known as La Democracía, which is just sprawled out in the streets several blocks north of central park. One of my largest treats is my weekly journey there to get pineapple, avocados, tomatoes, onion, garlic, eggplant, cilantro, blackberries, strawberries, carrots – the most amazing tasting carrots imaginable – squash, little potatoes, limes for my potato salad dressing (which I use instead of vinegar to put in the olive oil-mayonnaise dressing I make, with a spot of honey), red peppers, melons, you name it, La Democracía has it, along with a ton of other fruits and vegetables that I am ignorant of. I haven’t had a bad interaction or one that hasn’t been very positive. The people are beautiful, as you know, and the mix of the city with people in their native dress is gorgeous.

For the first 3 weeks or so here, I walked up in the high hills in back of my neighborhood, straight up a steep way from 7,600 ft, through deep dust areas and then by two houses with dogs that snarled after me almost every time I went up there. I quickly made friends with everyone in one house and all of those dogs, who then left me alone. But no matter how many times I went by the other house, and how much I talked to the people in that house and tried to get the dogs to quit terrorizing me, it never stopped. Finally, after facing that fear every day for weeks and never having it improve, I gave up that hike, to my chagrin but to my relief as well! At first I had this philosophical argument ready for myself every morning about how important it is to face and overcome your fears. And then I realized I could take another walk that would not be quite as steep and probably not as helpful to my heart, but at least I didn’t dread it every day! So much for facing fears. I was attacked by a German shepherd as a kid alone in the woods, and of course one never gets over that. Every day I went up in the hills, chills ran up and down my body as I approached the houses with the dogs.

One major plus for me here in addition to Rick and work with Entremundos was the fact that I was able to attend 4 different performances of an international jazz festival that Xela was lucky enough to have happen here. They were really excellent and the tickets were free and the performances held in this wonderful old municipal theater. It was quite the thing, and really gave me something wonderful to look forward to. Apparently while the jazz fest came to Guate many years in the past, it never before brought the performers here to Xela. I hope the audience response, which was wildly enthusiastic, will mean that the Jazz fest will be here again next March.

I have met a mix of foreigners and Guatemalans and all have been good. I like it so much when I am able to mix with Guatemalans and one family that I have gotten to know a bit because they run the coffee shop where we have many meetings now has a family member who lives up north of me in Everett, WA and she has been visiting the family this past week, so I met her. We say we will go out to salsa. We shall see! She comes down to go to China Harbor on occasion, so . . .

Well, I don´t have anything profound to say, dammit. Just that I always find it rewarding to meet Chivos here and talk or just say hey when I see someone riding his bike up the huge hill up to the Baul, the lookout high above the city, where I like to hike, or in the street, or wherever we interact. Or when I get to play peek a boo with little Enrique down the street from me. These kids are so damned adorable, it is ridiculous. Or just wandering around a street fair thrown up for the weekend near the church that is having a procession that weekend in preparation for Semana Santa, sampling the roasted whole pig with a Washington state apple in its mouth, or the incredibly greasy and delicious fried sweet dough and any number of other tempting treats for sale in the makeshift booths lining the streets, bringing everyone out of their houses to talk, eat, and generally enjoy the afternoon and evening. I love the way people are out, interacting in the streets. This is what small towns with small streets do for people, at least when people are not in their cars. And boy, do we need much more of that in the US.

Well, that’s it for this season in Central America. I hope to see many of you soon and at least communicate with those of you too far from Seattle to see in person.

XOXOXO,
Katherine

Richard Komp, me, Duglas Gonzalez, and Susan Kinne, re-enacting UN SEED award, at Suni Solar, Managua, 2/09

2009-03-01T19:40:00.000-08:00

2d letter home

2009-03-01T12:57:00.000-08:00

2d letter home, removed

The girls and I at Laguna Apoyo

2009-02-18T20:04:00.000-08:00

Looking through the new grill work at the center to the new little house for the solar pump

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beautiful new gate at the solar center

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Nimia, one of my eng. students, community leader, and smart as a whip. Bruno is new education coordinator for UNI renewable energy program, French

2009-02-02T16:10:00.000-08:00

Pablo y Dave, de Nuevo Zelandia y Canada, voluntarios al Centro Solar, Sabana Grande

2009-02-02T16:06:00.000-08:00

The Solar Women, Grupo Fenix staff, and Susan, at the UN award ceremony in Managua

2009-02-02T15:58:00.000-08:00

2009-02-01T16:42:00.000-08:00

Edwin and Jorge, my pals at the Solar Center, and two of my English Students. They are a gas!

2009-02-01T16:15:00.000-08:00

Angelito Gabriel, who flirts with me mercilessly

2008-12-30T19:15:00.000-08:00

primary graduation

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Primary graduation in Sabana Grande

2008-12-30T19:06:00.000-08:00

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Working on implementing the UN grant, figuring out what is most important to get training in . . . for what we want to do next

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scenes from the cooking fair, 12/17/08, at the solar center

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First Letter Home, Winter, 2008, Nicaragua

2008-12-21T17:36:00.002-08:00

First Letter Home . . . . Nov 23 until December 21, the first month of four, this in Nicaragua

I arrived in Managua after 9 pm on November 23, 2008, and was greeted by a smiling Susan waiting outside the controlled area of the airport. As usual, I appreciated the welcome of free carts to manage my luggage, which included my guitar, a large and very full backpack, and a stuffed daypack with the computer and a thousand other things in it . . . And best of all there was George with a little car to take us back to Managua and the neighborhood. George is this early 50s guy, with wife and kids back in Maine, who is considering being on the board of Suni Solar (one of the spin offs of Susan’s efforts, the second largest solar business in Nicaragua (which isn’t saying much, but it is growing with the help of microloans to customers and its ethic is to serve the rural poor. It is taking other business to support this side, as solar is becoming more and more popular in places like San Juan del Sur, a place where people from the US have been buying up coastal property). He is also a surfer and has been to a solar course and got hooked on the whole Grupo Fenix scene. He is a very open guy and we had a great time talking about love and sex and the whole darn mess. Basically, he told me his life’s secrets in one day.

I stayed in the Eduardo Munga barrio again, near Susan, for the first couple of nights. REAL basic, and REAL hot, with a man named Juan, who apparently has a million kids, but one of his kids, Elvis, and Elvis’ family of 4 others, lives with Susan in her tiny house in the barrio, which says a lot about what kind of father he is. Elvis has birth defect that looks like he may have been a thalidomide baby. He sells things in the busy thoroughfare-carretera that rings the barrio. Very dangerous. He is a father of three. His wife is a sweetie and is going to secondary school and to trade school to learn how to be a seamstress. I am sure that Susan is probably helping in that as well.

Susan had planned for me to go to the beach with her, thinking, I guess, that this would be a treat. And it was okay, but the trip there was hot and difficult, and the beach was not good to me. It is about a half hour west of León, at Las Peñitas. Apparently there is malaria there, so when I found out, I was a bit chagrined. I ate the inside of orange seeds, which Susan is convinced protects against malaria. I hope she is right. One is supposed to take chloroquine one to two weeks before going into an area with malaria, which clearly I hadn’t. I am taking it now and will for a couple of more weeks, I guess. The place had mosquitos and lots of other nasty little biters which left me with red spots and swollen legs and feet for a while after we returned to Managua. It was very hot for me, although people in Managua thought it was cool. At the beach, there was way too much sun during the say (that is after about 7:30 am), and because I have developed an allergy to the sun, I really didn’t leave the shade of the hotelito much. I adjusted by going to bed at 9 and getting up at 5 am, and then taking an hour walk on the beach from dawn until 7 am . . . . Basically this was time Susan wanted for herself with her soon-to-be, it is hoped, adopted granddaughter (a little Nica whose family can´t afford to feed her, really), and her daughter plans to take her to the states, but there is a bit of a problem, perhaps, as taking children out of Nicaragua is not favored. In the past, it was allowed for reasons of extreme poverty, but Ortega has said now that Nicaragua can and should take care of its own children. Well, that is right, but in this case, the mother cannot and does not want to take care of this child, so we will see.

Being with Susan at the beach provided a chance to leisurely catch up with what is going on with the UN grant and with the new crop of volunteers, and some reorganization in the jobs at UNI and at the Solar Center in Sabana Grande.

I stayed at Suni Solar for a few days when we got back to Managua as opposed to with the nuns or Juan again. It is a business but has two bedrooms, one with just a bed but it worked for me with a fan, which kept the mosquitos at bay somewhat. The reason there are mosquitos is that it is at the tail end of the rainy season when I arrived.

We left for upcountry, Sabana Grande, on December first and there was a series of meetings about the UN grant. They are just now getting to writing up the plan for how the UN prize will help them. It isn´t a lot of money, and it will be in the form of services, but it is a fair amount, and the women really need to zero in on what their immediate and most pressing needs are. The plan for expert help should be written by the beginning of the year.

As opposed to my last stay here, I am doing less hard thinking work and much more socializing, in the context of family. I think this is a product of the fact that Susan is so burned out. I see my role as more of a shoulder and ear even more than last time and an advisor regarding the need for her to redesign her life and role in this whole endeavor. It is hard, because she doesn’t want to see all she has worked on crumble if she moves aside before someone else can take her place as director, or at least as administrative director, and also there is a question of how she will earn money in the future if she doesn´t proceed carefully. Since she has given so much of her meager earnings to the project and what little she inherited for buying land that will no doubt be the community’s and not hers, she does have to make some provision for herself. She is now 60. She breaks down in tears at times, and so it is clear that she is a mess, poor thing. Too much over the years, not enough rest time, no space of her own. She was kind of counting on social security from her dead Guatemalan husband who worked in the states for many years, apparently. They were married for 5 or 7 years, but he was killed by a car after they were here together not that long. Very sad. But I had to deliver the message that I didn’t think you can collect from a former husband unless you had been married 10 years. Can anyone look this up for me? I would love to deliver happier news to her. KAL, I bet you are a good candidate to ask for this research!

I am living with a wonderful family in Sabana Grande. Joyous, industrious, fun and sweet. Alejandra is one of the Mujeres Solares and is just a pure joy. Marcio is a carpenter and works like blue blazes from the crack of dawn. He has been getting so much work in the past few days, it is amazing and wonderful. Alejandra works all day and Jenny, the 13 year old girl who I love, also does a bit. Marcel, 15, is off picking coffee for two weeks, bless his heart – he and his brother Harold, 10, are about as cute as any two boys could be. Harold fell from a mango tree when he was three and was in the hospital for well over a month, and the fall left him with some damage to his neck and tongue, which is not evident at all. Alejandra says he has a hard time forming some of his vowels, but I haven’t noticed. He is precious. They are unfailingly kind and sweet to me, all of them, and generous with their time and help. Marcio is the most employed of almost anyone here, or so it seems. He has so much business coming in these days that even on Sundays he is visiting customers in the countryside who need a piece of furniture built. Yesterday he brought in a huge caned chair and a tabernacle from a parish priest in Totogalpa. And some other folks visited to talk about things they needed, bringing much appreciated sweet bread with them. There was also a new order for 13 doors and windows, along with an order the day before for some doors for a church in Ocotal I think. Business for Marcio seems to be booming at the moment and he is a happy man. He employs Silvio and occasionally someone else, while he does a lot of the actual work himself and also handles the very amable negociations of the work agreements with clients. It sounds very business-like but actually is so casual and he weaves everything in and out of his life with the family seamlessly. He and Alejandra have a happy marriage and it is very apparent. Every day I become closer with all of them and truly feel like a part of the family. They are just the best, the best, the best, and I am so lucky to be living with them.

Everything is fine, if very dirty, in the countryside, and I come to value it more and more because the time is slower and more full of people than my life at home. People take time for each other. I had told you that I was staying in Ocotal last weekend, and it was my intention to go every weekend for a break from Sabana Grande – I thought I would need to get away from the campo a bit --, and to start with that first weekend. But I had all of my money stolen – probably at least $60, and not only could I not stay, but I had to beg to get the copies of the English book out of hock for my classes last week, and if I hadn’t paid the hotel in advance, I wouldn’t even had had money to get home on the bus. I felt so stupid for letting that happen, and of course I was disappointed. But after coming back, I realized I wanted to be here, as I am now much happier to be with the family on the weekends and hanging out with various other of the campesino families. They are so sweet, and it is fun to be with them. It is also fun to spend time with the families as a whole, especially if they have young adults from about 13 on – I have always liked teenagers. Like today, I spent a while with the family I lived with back in January and February when I was in the country, and we had such a nice time. The mother, who seems like a sister, almost, to her three kids because she is so little, is growing so much in confidence just from the last time I was here, and really likes the English class. One problem is that the women are so busy with domestic chores, with their roles at the Solar Center and then add in church obligations, it is crazy. How they manage all that they do is beyond me. And all is done with perfect grace. They are an amazing bunch. They have very little, we do everything by hand, from schucking the corn before cooking at night for the next day’s tortillas to washing the clothes. There is much heavy work, no indoor plumbing, and things are dirty all of the time because we are living on the ground, and the housing, while there are walls, is still open at the top of the walls, and the winds are such that now during the dry season dirt blows. There are tarantulas and scorpions, and frogs and other insects and spiders. We have a cat, Jackie Chan, and a dog, Vandan. They are named after actors in action films. I know Jackie Chan, but not Vandan. I like these two very much. Both like me too, which is nice. We also have a pig who gets moved every evening so he won’t be disturbed by passers by on the road, a few hens, and couple of roosters, but one is a fighter who was given to Harold, and is more trouble than he is worth. They are very good to the animals. We are surrounded by lots of plants that Alejandra takes great care to grow, and I am eating right now the first ripe papaya from the yard. There are some squash like things growing in the yard and lots of herbs and then just pretty flowers. Marcio and the kids just harvested a ton of beans from some land that they farm away from the house somewhere. I have yet to see it. And they grow their own corn. It is not easy – then Alejandra cooks it for a long time, and then in the morning, Jenny takes it to the molina, where it is ground into corn meal for making a bunch of tortillas. This ritual goes on, day in and day out.

I sleep under a mosquito net, of course, like before. I have arranged my room by building little shelves close to the floor with bricks and boards I found about (lucky to live with a carpenter), and arrange my clothes on two lines I have strung across the room. It is like an aerial armoire.

Today I washed clothes all day after my special walk up to my favorite hill. Usually in the morning I go a shorter route, before work. This happens from 6 until 7 on weekdays. Today, Saturday, I started a bit later and stayed for a bit longer, but the wash was calling. I also wash dishes for Alejandra (finally got gloves for this – my hands are a mess with excema at the moment, probably from some lotion I bought to help them, which only hurt them. It is hard to get pure stuff here), and sweep the room and patio a lot. So much dirt gets in everywhere, it is a constant occupation. I am clearly in one of the nicest situations, though, because it is quite lovely in so many ways, because of the people. I prefer being away from the house when all the work on the cabinets, doors, or whatever is happening because the noise is deafening. They are used to it, but today, as I was not at the Solar Center because it was Saturday, I had to put in ear plugs because the noise from the electric table saw was constant and incredibly hard on one’s ears. But the rhythm of hand washing lots of dirty clothes helps to keep ones mind off the noise. I use the solar shower I brought down some times and some times the cold shower. It is actually quite a nice jolt in the morning before work and after the hike. We are so fortunate to have a shower, as last time, I had to get water to bring in the very dirty enclosure and wash with a pan.

Today I put in three large concrete-able nails in the cold shower area to hang towels and bathrobes. It is always a challenge to stay clean when one is balancing a towel on a dirty shelf, etc. One thing I will mention is that there is another volunteer living here at the house as well, a young man named Brian, from the states. He is likeable, but a little clueless, and doesn’t help out much. He is generous, though. But what is a bit bugging about the culture is that Alejandra washes his clothes for him. He thinks its great, of course, but there was never an attempt or mention of washing my clothes. I talked about this a bit with Alejandra . . . I know it is cultural. It is not that I want my clothes washed. Not at all. I would not allow it and I actually enjoy it. It is that he doesn’t have to wash his clothes that is annoying. Women clearly are the workhorses in this community, and Marcio appears to be an exception to the rule. Theirs is an equal marriage, with mutual respect. They have different roles, but there is no question that both roles are equally essential and respected.

My friend Ignacio said to me a couple of weeks ago that after I had been here a while I wouldn’t want to leave. I said, no, I would not stay for a lot of reasons, including the fact that it is hard for me to live in the climate, the sun, and especially the dirt, because my skin breaks down when it is dirty. But now, even after a couple of weeks, I see his point. And every day, it gets easier for me, as I am figuring out what to do to live in dirt and sun and protect myself from its effects on me pathetically white and fragile skin. It will be hard to leave the family, which includes me in everything, and with whom the interactions all day and evening are easy, intimate, fun, but when I want my space to think, to read, to work, I can just go in my little room and do those things and no one cares. I am not one for TV and they watch in the evening sometimes, which makes time for me to TRY to play the guitar a little or do other things that might be a problem later on when people go to bed. Everything is open, one room to the next, at the top, so one cannot make noise after others have gone to bed, which is usually around 9 or so . . . I stay up working until 10 and then reading sometimes until 10:30 and up at 5:45 or 6. I have had time to try to work in yoga on some days and it is a blessing. Without the gym, I really need to do more than just my hour walk up the hills and back in the morning and the walks to and from the Center, which probably amount to another 3 miles every day.

Today I went to multiple baptisms in Totogalpa at the church. We took the bus which threatened never to come but arrived on time for mass and the baptisms were afterward. A LOT of crying babies, dressed to the nines in white. I have included some fotos for you of this event. These folks don’t have much of anything, but for these events, their children could not be more beautifully decked out. It is something. I took pictures of my family being madrina and padrino, and of course of the baby, Dani, and then Marcio’s brother had a baptism, and some other relative. We spent all day walking around the region of Sabana Grande visiting houses open for the celebration of baptisms and at the end, Marcio’s mother’s house, at which were three other of his siblings and their kids, also had a pudissima, which is a way they celebrate the virgin Mary from anywhere around the Immaculate Conception (of Mary, by Elizabeth, which few Catholics seem to remember – they think it is the virgin birth of Jesus) – until Christmas. People come from all around and sing traditional songs and say prayers to Mary at an altar built in the house. There were tons of people at Marcio’s mother’s house, and they were celebrating her birthday (69 tomorrow), a baptism, and were having a pudissima. We are having a pudissima on Tuesday and I am expected to play the guitar for Tu Gloria, Tu Gloria, which I can do, as it only involves 2 chords, really. I am adding another for interest. We were fed at every house. I finally had to say no to more food.

Picking up the thread of these thoughts, we did indeed today have our pudissima at our house, which the family has every year, to thank the virgin for a good year. Marcio was telling me tonight how pleased he was with the pudissima this afternoon because he has been so fortunate with his work and everyone is healthy (I rearranged my teaching schedule to accommodate this, as I couldn’t envision not being here, even though we had just arranged yesterday to have the class during the time that the pudissima was being held (the time of which I didn’t know about until last night). I wouldn’t have not been here. It seems natural that the family and these important social/religious celebrations are every bit as important as work, and we easily move things around to accommodate both. No one had a problem with my asking to have the class at a different time because of my family’s pudissima. This is also something I admire about the way we do things here. No one doubts that what we are doing at the center is important and good, but no one would think of working through these important socials events, either. And also, the physical closeness is great, too. One woman holds my hand when she talks to me. People are constantly saying, “Katia, this and Katia, that, including you in, asking you things. I understand a bit more as time goes by.

So, now I understand more what Ignacio was saying. I now know I will indeed miss many parts of life here, primarily, the closeness of being with people who you know intimately in a rhythm of life. It is just more fun being surrounded by that rhythm of life, especially when you can have some private space as well. It is like the communal living that we all talk about having, but so far haven’t gotten around to. The one we envision where we have our private space, but can commune when we choose. . . . . I am living that on a very simple, humble scale. But of course it is much easier, because Alejandra is cooking for all of us all day. It is, though, some test of whether I might want to go live in some similar kind of situation, somewhere, someday.

I started teaching two weeks ago or so, and the classes I have had so far have been a lot of fun. We laugh a LOT, and the 5 or 6 people who are doing it with me are very interested and have fun with it. They need it for their developing businesses because the hope is that when they start their little restaurant, tourists will stop by, as it is right off the highway. Moreover, volunteers from the states, Canada, and Europe come, as well as international participants in the Solar Courses that keep the place afloat come, and the common language of all is English. They think it is fun, we all howl laughing when I mix Spanish and English, or when they are trying to pronounce things. I of course don’t laugh at them, but they laugh at each and thoroughly enjoy it. They always want more time than we had originally decided. I love that.

I have also figured out other things on the organizational development end thatrI can help with beyond the obvious grant writing and organization of potential foundations, which I have not started yet and which may be easier once I get home. There is a desperate need for fact sheets on various aspects of the organizations (UNI, PFAE, Grupo Fenix and the Solar Women, and what each does, what each is, how they are connected, etc. Because I love to write, I look forward to this work and I hope my dear friend Laure Elise Eklund Dunne might have some time to help design the fact sheet format so they look good. The Solar Women might also like to have a logo, Laure! I will ask at the next Monday meeting in January – right now the Center is off for two weeks and I am going to Managua for a week around Christmas to work there on the internet and I hope to go to the Laguna for 2 or 3 days, if there is space. I can work there, too, as there is WIFI.

There are other volunteers here, four young guys, at this time. One is friendly and we talk about the organization, etc. because he may stay and work here for a year with a modest salary. He is Canadian, as is another guy who is making benches for the center. The latter is not friendly, at least to me. Another is from New Zealand, Paul, a real surfer kind of guy, and he is fine, but we don’t do anything together – he is trying to create a more efficient LED system for casitas that would cost less than the system we use now, and then there is Brian, who I mentioned above, from the states. He is making a sign for the Center for the highway. I thought of you, Pete, and that he could have done a much better job with your guidance, but we will see what the finished product looks like after the new year.

A word about politics on the micro and more macro level. Micro-wise, my family is firmly Sandinista. They have a huge FSLN flag flying over the house, as do several other families in the neighborhood. Marcio was in the war at the age of about 14 through 16. Thankfully, he survived. Their view is that under the FSLN, there has been free secondary education for everyone (things cost but it is the accessories of education that cost I think), and according to Marcio, every poor family now has a pig. I don’t know for sure, but I think also there may be free health clinics. Macro-wise, the flip side of this for me is that Ortega appears to be accumulating more and more power and wants to change laws to accumulate more. He has put his wife in charge of neighborhood councils, replicating an already in place and according to some, well functioning system because he wants to consolidate power. Because of changes he wanted to make in the laws, several parties came together in a coalition to oppose the FSLN in the municipal elections held last month. The coalition formed in the spring when I was here, and as a consequence, the FSLN and its ally the PLC, via the elections board, started challenging the legitimacy of the strongest opposition parties. Two of them were declared illegal during the summer. There were hunger strikes by famous former Sandinistas, and pressure mounted leading to the elections. Then, apparently, Ortega would not allow international observers for the elections (maybe the excuse was that they were only for national elections? I do not know for sure), but in any event, it laid the ground for claims of fraud in the elections. There were lots of scary demonstrations in Managua and recently in León. My sense from trying to figure it out (I just missed them in Managua) is that the FSLN was primarily out in the streets being angry that there were claims of fraud, and protesting that the elections were validly won by the FSLN, but I really don’t know. Some people died in the demonstrations. And now it appears the states may withdraw all financial support from Nicaragua because the states are saying the elections were corrupt. The news tonight was all about the pending decision on the aid. I didn’t understand everything on the tube, for sure. And I rarely see it.

Duglas, my friend at Suni, was reported to have said at the time of the demonstrations in Managua, looking onto the streets below (much happened right by our neighborhood because we are near University of Central America and the National Engineering University and students have historically always, everywhere been the instigators of demonstrations), that he thought the country was on the verge of civil war. I will have to talk to Duglas more when I get back to Managua.

I don’t really know what is going on in the world or at home. I would like to know how the rest of the Latino world is doing in the wake of the world financial crisis. How is Brazil doing? What is happening in Venezuela now that the price of oil is so low? What is happening in Bolivia with all of the trouble that Evo Morales has been having with the ricos, etc.?

Keep me informed! And I love receiving news about each one of you, honestly, I do. I get to download the email, and then I get to pour over it in the evening to learn of everyone’s lives, and this keeps me up with all of you so that when I return, I will know about you all! It is really good to read of what you are doing. I suppose by now I have no savings left, but because I don´t know, I think it is better. What could I do if I knew how bad things are, anyhow? Nothing but worry. Here, I don’t worry.

I apologize for the length of the letter. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever be moved to write, but the desire finally came. I will include a few fotos on the blog when I get to the internet again . . . . It is: http://guatemalanicaragua20072008.blogspot.com/

FINALLY, I have a book to recommend very highly. It is called Ancient Futures, Learning from Ladakh, by Helena Norberg-Hodge. Get from the library, or buy if from Sierra Club books, but do get it somehow, and do read it. You won’t be sorry. There is so much to relearn in it. Ladakh is a traditionally Buddhist community high high up in the mountains of northern India. In the introduction by Peter Matthiessen, he says it for me:

“The celebration here of traditional Ladakhi life induces exhilaration but also sadness, as if some half-remembered paradise known in another life had now been lost. So evocative is it that I felt – I don’t know what – homesickeness?”

This is the life I am living, really, although much of the modern world has intruded, as it has now, unfortunatey, in Ladahk. But the mujeres solares understand the value of food grown close to home and organically, of using everything and wasting nothing, of cooking with solar ovens, and lighting with PVs -- and this much more than we can say. If it isn’t what Ladakh was, neither is it the industrial society-- with all of its waste, pollution, greed, isolation and crime – that we live in.

I wish you all blessed holidays and a new beginning, remembering paradise lost and working to bring it back into our lives.

Love to everyone,
Katherine

FOTOS of Guatemalan Elections, Fall of 2007, Quiche

2008-04-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

http://www.usaid.gov/gt/elections.htm

I am putting this link up for everyone because a lovely woman I met at Lake Atitlan took them when she was working as an election monitor in Quiche. Her name is Maureen Taft-Morales and she was serving as a Senior Democracy Fellow with USAID when I met her.

Coming through an alfombra of fruit, and, finally, the pila at my residence during the last 2 weeks in Antigua

2008-04-14T23:48:00.000-07:00

He appears, in white now

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Waiting for the risen Christ to come out of church

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Need a Hat or . . . .

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Street food in the park across from Hermano Pedro

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Ccommerce and Christ mix well

2008-04-14T23:41:00.000-07:00

Easter Sunday Alfombras outside of Hermano Pedro Eglesia

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More of Hermano Pedro tomb, and, on Easter Sunday, making the last alfombras for the risen Christ

2008-04-14T23:34:00.000-07:00

In San Francisco, the tomb of Hermano Pedro (Antigua)

2008-04-14T23:32:00.000-07:00

City Hall, XELA, and another shot of Volcan Agua in Antigua

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More of Xela Center

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XELA

2008-04-14T23:18:00.000-07:00

Last Letter Home -- for Now

2008-04-06T15:43:00.000-07:00

Last letter home-April 5, 2008

It seems fitting to complete the series of letters home with some thoughts about my return to Guatemala from Nicaragua and on the impressions and emotions that crowded in when returning to Antigua during Semana Santa and the week following.

I arrived on Tuesday of Holy Week and was fortunate to find a place to stay in a residence where I had spent a fair amount of time in the past because I knew some people who had or who still lived there. It was familiar territory and near my old neighborhood, and thus easy to visit old friends and haunts – although nothing in Antigua is very far from anything else in Antigua, one of the charms of this beautiful little town known as the “Disneyland” of Guatemala.

Re-entering Antigua during Holy Week was very emotional. Although I am by now used to processions, Semana Santa’s processions are a step up, with alfombras (pictured on the blog) being richer and more beautiful than any I had seen before. My two favorite processions (there are many every day, especially on Good Friday) were naturally those in which I had some small personal interest – one with Oscar, the son of my friend Ingrid – the ninos procession, and the other that went through my old barrio east of San Francisco, because I got to see my old neighbors and hang out at Amparo’s house with Otto and Claudia and Lulu and Ingrid’s kids, Jennifer and Oscar, watching everyone make the alfombras, and then waiting and watching as the procession came through. Our neighborhood had the thickest array of alfombras I saw all week, some humble, some elaborate, but all of them right on top of each other, their denseness magnified by the fact that the tiny, self-contained neighborhood of Colonia el Pensativo has small, narrow streets.

On Good Friday, I was out in the streets fairly early watching a procession west and uptown, and then went to the Cathedral in central park where the faithful were filing into church, standing in line to touch the crypt of Jesus, who lay there dead under glass. I stood in line with my fellow Guatemaltecos and found myself suddenly in tears, unable to control the weeping. I, too, touched the coffin with the little piece of cotton given us by the acolytes as we approached the coffin, and then I had to sit in a pew for a while to collect myself, again not being able to stop weeping. It seemed that the tears were for the unresolved losses of my life, because although my father died at this time of year and recently, I never weep for my father. His long life allowed me to go through my disillusionment with this imperfect man whom I had idolized as a child, came to know his faults as an adult, and had the time to realize that while he was imperfect in many ways, in the end, I still loved him immensely. Thus, when I think of my father, it is never with sadness, but only with warm understanding and a feeling of completeness.

Still fighting back tears, I lit a candle for the first time in many, many years, praying that for the unresolved losses, and that somehow the sadness would find its way out and that I could take positive steps to replace those feelings of loss with new opportunities for love and understanding.

In the first several days after returning, I thought I wanted to leave immediately, that I was done with being in central America. But as the time wore on, I realized that it was really a new beginning. I determined to go to Xela, a city I have been wondering about for quite some time. I had spent only “tourist” time up in the highlands in the past (Chichicastenango, Lake Atitlán), but tourist time, while it can be fun and interesting to a point, is not what I seek. I always want to go to the heart of things.

I got a very bad infection in one of my toes and it became very difficult to walk. This became painfully apparent a day before I had planned to go, and couldn’t decide whether to go or stay in Antigua and go to the doctor. My friend Renee encouraged me to go anyhow, and so I did, with much pain over the 6-hour ride in a crowded collectivo to Xela. But I was glad I did. I stayed in a perfect place and everything I experienced there was positive.

I found two pianos in the old, huge, city theater, and, what is more, a marimba teacher who, when he found out I like to work on indigenous issues, said he wished he was indigenous (flirting is even more fun in Spanish!). I also came upon an energy machine of a young German woman who overheard our conversation and took me to one of the pianos behind the stage to play a bit and then insisted that I could not return to Antigua the next morning as planned, but had to stay to be in a music festival that she put together for musicians all over Guatemala that was happening the very next day. She is a very special person who I hope to have the pleasure of seeing again one of these days in Xela (I couldn´t stay for the festival, unfortunately).

Then I met some lovely people at Entremundos, a group that helps volunteers find appropriate organizations to work with in Xela, sponsors educational programs weekly at its offices for the community on burning political, environmental and human rights issues (which are really all the same on some level), and publishes a great little newsletter; finally met Tom of Xela Pages, who has been kind to me on several occasions over email not knowing me from Adam, as we say; and I had a great chat with the folks at AIDG, who are right down the street from Xela Teco, which they helped get off the ground (a small company that makes solar water heaters, biodigesters, micro-hydroprojects and other renewable energy applications). I have thought about Xelo Teco a lot, hoping to visit someday, since Brad Burkhartzmeyer, who had volunteered with XT, gave a presentation about renewable energy projects in Nicaragua and Guatemala early last year at a Shoreline Solar Project meeting. So it was a moving moment for me when I walked the quiet streets of Xela (quiet, that is, after rush hour!) and turned a corner and looked down to the end of the block to see the real Xela Teco, looking wonderfully shabby and not at all glamorous like it looks on its website, but there, really there, in front of me.

My unconscious expectations in Guatemala and Nicaragua about how things will be, how they will look, and the like, remind me a lot of how I experience spring in Seattle. One always has a picture in one’s mind about how something will be, whether we are conscious of it or not, and for spring here, it never turns out that way. As much as I have experienced spring here, over and over, as cold and rainy, there is still this unconscious part of me that expects it to be sunny and increasingly warmer, as it was in the Midwest and on the east coast. But it is never like that. It is always like it is, not like some place else is. “June-uary” is what we get, not June.

So it is with one’s image of how something will be in central America. There is this initial disconnect with the image in front of you, based on the way things look in the states, and then you settle into reality. And so it is with people. The only exceptions for me have been Lago Apoyo and Volcan Masaya in Nicaragua, which are, just naturally, beautiful. And every now and again we are lucky to meet some people like that, too!

In Xela, I also visited with a guy who has a small, four-person organization that works on organizing community development councils in the 5 departments including and surrounding Xela. And I had a great experience at a community health clinic, where they not only were kind, but charged me the same as they would have anyone off the street – 25Q ($3.33), for a doctor to look at my infected toe, clean it, dress it, and give me a prescription and instructions how to care for it (which prompted a donation from me the next day after learning that the clinic serves the poor communities surrounding Xela, and anyone off the street). Xela had a lot of positive energy, I thought, and it seems more politically engaged than Antigua, but what do I know. These are just uninformed impressions.

The trip back from Xela to Antigua was a wicked, 8-hour ride through the highlands, with torn up highway impeding our travel. But I still immensely enjoyed a concert of Trovas that night in Antigua (my newest music interest is learning Trovas on the guitar), and treasuring my last time with friends, finally falling in love with Antigua, something I had resisted for so long. But after the heat of Managua (which actually caused me to break out in a heat rash in my midsection, something that happens to delicate types in the tropics on occasion, the internet informed me), and the relative nippiness of Xela, neither being a match for Antigua’s beauty, it was impossible not to admit that Antigua is special, even if affected and infected by way too many foreigners.

The most important part of central America for me, however, is its people. They value each other and spend time just sitting together, like I imagine people here used to do before everything speeded up and became “auto” mated. (I remember thinking many years ago that soon Americans would never have to talk to anyone else to get by. How sad). Because the relative slowness of life, the fact that I walked everywhere for 6 months and thus encountered people constantly (they are all out walking, too!), is something that I already miss, having been back here only three days. That I could go anywhere in Antigua or Xela on foot and get what I needed, and enjoy the process of doing it, was wonderful. It seems to bring out the best in me. And there, it seems, my emotions are raw and open, and I am vulnerable. And I treasure that.

Sure, there are enormous problems, with education, with crime, with poverty. Simply enormous. But there are also rich traditions and a very high value placed on interpersonal relationships. What is a truly rich society? What makes the “happiness index” (as in Bhutan) move higher? For me, it is having Josephina recognize me in the street and grab my arms and hug me. Or Letty comfort me with hugs when she knows I am blue. Or the fact that I can sit on top of Cerro de la Cruz, looking down at Antigua and across at Volcan Agua, while chatting for a half an hour with a police officer in Spanish about crime in the country and how we both perceive it and what can be done. These seemingly small interactions mean a lot to me. So much so that I don´t know how long I want to stay away from them.

Love to you all. Hope to see many of you very soon. And the rest of you, even sooner!

Ninth (9th) Letter home

2008-03-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone!

(this was written before leaving Nica and before returning to Guatemala for Semana Santa, pictured in the fotos below this post. Sorry)

March 16

It is a real gift to be able to end my time in Nicaragua at Laguna Apoyo, for my third three-day visit. Laguna Apoyo, as I have said, is a relatively pristine crater lake surrounded by the heavenly sounds of the jungle, most appreciated from about 5 until 6:30 in the morning, times I never would have dreamed of getting up voluntarily. But here I set my clock to treasure this quiet, cool, magical time of night/day, when the night sky softly sheds its stars and gives way to the deep throated growls of the Howlers and the chorus of birds and insects that reliably greet the sun’s bold appearance at the far edge of the crater before it shatters and pours its liquid gold over the surface of the laguna in a path to my feet. This is a time of day here I would not dream of missing and today I must acknowledge that it will be quite some time, if ever, that I will be fortunate enough to experience it again. It is as if the rest of the world does not exist outside this hallowed crater of life.

My dream is to continue the excellent habit of going to sleep by 10 and getting up at 5:30 every day. We shall see. Coming home to the northwest at this time of the year is perfect to experiment with changing from a night person to a morning person because it is flooded with light very early in the morning now.

It is beastly hot in Managua, and the populace has begun the annual pilgrimage to the beaches to party, the way most of the people choose to celebrate Semana Santa in Nicaragua. I understand there are processions of a religious nature here, too, and alfombra, so it is not entirely godless, but my impression is that Managua, at least, empties out all week with people reappearing at the Pacific beaches in great festive numbers. Last year, some 10 people drown in the Laguna alone, many no doubt victims of too much alcohol.

This has been a great place to nurse the grip, which moved into my lungs a week ago and in its usual manner seems almost impossible to dislodge. It is hard for me to do nothing, but I really haven’t been able to work much since I got here Friday. Today, St. Patrick’s day, I return to Managua to pack and fly out Tuesday for Guatemala for two weeks. I would rather be going home, I think, but it is hard to tell when one isn’t feeling well. It will be trouble to go to Antigua during Semana Santa, I have too much luggage, and the place will be nuts. A better alternative would have been to come home, but I cannot change my ticket. Period. Not even with paying a fee. I have learned that 5 months here would be enough for me, at least in the capacities in which I have been here, and maybe even 4 months would be enough. If I had more friends or someone I wish “with,” as we say, it might well be different. But this after all was an experiment, and given it was a big one, I feel like it has gone quite well.

I think the link I sent you to the combined films of me and about Nahual’s Stan work is not functioning. Although it worked for me right after Carlos sent it to me, it doesn’t seem to work anymore. I apologize. I will try to get a copy of the Stan film and make copies for those of you who donated to Nahual if you want a copy.

The crack team of Katherine and Laure Dunne has produced another brochure. This time for the Solar Women of Totogalpa. They certainly are inspirational and we both are very happy with the outcome, because it has less text (more info for the Women will be on a portal on Grupo Fenix’s website until they have their own website, so I could put less in the brochure than I did for Nahual, which never has had a website up and running). I will attach it to this email so you can see how pretty it is!

My stay in Nicaragua has been harder in a different way than my stay in Guatemala. In Guatemala, I was so eager to work productively and contribute, and it was not possible, but as far as living conditions were concerned, they couldn’t have been more amenable. I was right on top of a very friendly gym, I had a lovely apartment and lovely neighbors and neighborhood and a beautiful climate. Here, I found the work I so wanted, a great person to work with, and an inspiring organization with a wonderful vision, but living conditions and climate that have been a challenge.

The heat has probably been the biggest challenge for me. I simply don’t function as well in the heat, and it gets hotter and hotter at this time of the year. As I have said, Managua leaves a LOT to be desired, but I am sure that if I didn’t live with nuns, and had some friends, it would have been more fun. It has been like being locked in a tower. The country was a bit of a challenge, too, sleeping cheek to jowl with 5 other people I didn’t know and couldn’t talk to very well, in dirty conditions, eating starchy food with flies and critters everywhere, no indoor plumbing, and other unappetizing conditions. Yet it was better in the countryside, and felt freer than Managua, and if I come back, I would probably want to spend most all of my time upcountry, perhaps living in the town of Ocotal and commuting by 20 minute bus ride to the community to teach English or teach environmental practices or do any number of other things at the project. We shall see. Life takes interesting turns and I hate to plan ahead too much in order to be open to what comes.

I have learned a lot during this time. I learned how to wash clothes by hand – I have done all of my wash by hand for 3 months – on stones and washboards. I finally got pretty good at it. I learned how to take a pretty decent pan bath outside at 6:30 in the morning while fighting major goosebump attacks. I learned what Trovas are from a lovely young woman, a CELL student (center for ecological living and learning), who was among 6 students taking our Solar Culture Course the last time I was upcountry ( nuevo trova was a movement in Cuban music that emerged in the mid-1960s combining traditional folk music idioms with progressive and often politicized lyrics. Though originally and still largely Cuban, nueva trova is popular across Latin America, especially in Puerto Rico and Venezuela. The Cuban Silvio Rodriguez is one of its most popular proponents). And most important, I learned not to put my trust in someone or in an organization until spending some time watching how it operates, learning the character of the people who run it, whether it operates in a way that is sustainable, and the like.

Something I failed to mention about Grupo Fenix, and the Solar Women, is that the project also brings together former Contras and Sandinistas, who now work side-by-side cooperatively. And it is interesting for me that my favorite person upcountry from the community is a former Contra. She seemed pretty tough at first to get to know, but she turned out for me to be the warmest of all. I never thought I would like a Contra, but who knows what the circumstances were . . . her husband is a land mine victim as well, having lost a leg like my singing and guitar companion, Marco Antonio. These people have endured much and the Solar Center is evidence of their faith in the future.

I am pleased that I found a guitar to buy in Managua – not great, but better than nothing – to take back to Guatemala for a family I know there whose daughter is beginning to learn classical guitar. That enables me to leave the guitar that I bought in Guatemala in Nicaragua for Susan to take upcountry to the project (one is a steel string, the other a classical). There is now a person in charge of all equipment, tools, etc. at the Solar Center, so the guitar will be there for people to check out so everyone who wants to play or practice should have a chance at it at one time or other. Marco Antonio will be happy.

As I sit here, mangoes keep falling from the trees around the porch. It is a constant sound in Nicaragua at this time of the year, the riches of the tropics literally hitting you over the head with their abundance. As I treasure these last hours at the Laguna, my mind of necessity turns toward the future, what it will be like to return to Guatemala, what it will be like to come back to the states. I have been reminded several times of Bobby Kennedy in the past few weeks. A couple of weeks back, I was chatting with my favorite CELL student, Dana, one morning at the Solar Center upcountry, and somehow we got talking about the U.S. GNP and I said how Bhutan had a Happiness Index instead of a GNP and how you have to love a country like that, and then I said, “that reminds me of a speech Bobby Kennedy gave about the GNP and how it was not a measure of wealth at all because it included making napalm, making toxins that people put in the environment,” and Dana, this kid, pulls out this book from something like the NW Earth Island Institute or something like that, that had reprinted a large excerpt from that very speech Bobby Kennedy made so many years ago, and I read it, --- and I cried.

I have so much emotion here because I am constantly confronted by the rawness of life, poverty, people with disabilities from land mines, and god knows what else – and, in the face of it all, kindness, and the contrast between people working hard and honestly for change in the face of the ridiculous policies and the greed of our leaders and the agencies that are supposed to help. And because we have lost so much of our national conscience and our souls in the US (to shopping malls, apparently), and I remembered how I was drawn to Bobby Kennedy because of his ability to put his finger on this type of thing and express it so well and so passionately. He was a good man, I think, despite whatever he may have done for his brother, whose death seemed to free him to be who he really was. It is a shame we have had no one like him since.

I am also attaching a link to an article I just came across in the Atlantic from a couple of months back by Sarah Chayes, formerly of NPR, who is trying to make a difference in Afghanistan. http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200712/afghans It so echoes for me Susan’s struggle to make a difference and the frustration that we feel from those organizations that are supposed to help but instead are siphoning off money for their executives or those of the private companies that get fat from them. It reminds me very much of the task I have taken on at the Laguna whenever I am here, of clearing the rocks from a path in the water so that people can walk in and out of the lake with at least fewer of the sharp volcanic rocks to navigate before they slip into the perfect liquid cool/warm soft welcoming water.

Those rocks return despite my twice daily efforts, but the task is always worth doing, because, if only for a while, it smoothes the sharpness and softens the way. Maybe that is all we can ever hope to do. To be there, faithfully, lifting the stones, moving them out of the way, facing head on the ragged edges of life and doing what we can never to forget those who have such little protection from them.

Love to you all,
Katherine

The traditional mixes with the modern, in church and central park

2008-03-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

2008-03-22T10:32:00.000-07:00

2008-03-22T10:31:00.000-07:00

2008-03-22T10:30:00.000-07:00

Early morning, Good Friday, the day with the most pagentry

2008-03-22T10:28:00.000-07:00

The Virgin comes after, the girls carry her, and the alfombras are immediately cleaned up by the city of Antigua, for the next procession!

2008-03-22T10:27:00.000-07:00

More than one band with each procession; after Christ goes through the alfombras are no more

2008-03-22T10:26:00.000-07:00

2008-03-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

my barrio, the cross, the attendants, Jesus comes into view carrying the cross

2008-03-22T10:23:00.000-07:00

Lili, a visitor, Lulu, Otto, Claudia, visitor, outside of Amparo's house. A film! and the procession thru our barrio

2008-03-22T10:22:00.000-07:00

My old barrio, Colonia el Pensativo

2008-03-22T10:20:00.000-07:00

No one in the processions (and each is a cast of thousands) steps on the alfombras until the anda with Christ comes and then they are destroyed

2008-03-22T10:19:00.000-07:00

Alfombras (rugs) are made with flowers, sawdust with coloring added, fruits and vegetables

2008-03-22T10:11:00.000-07:00

In my old barrio, the beginnings of more alfombras for the San Francisco procession. There are about 4-6 processions a day all during holy week

2008-03-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

2008-03-22T10:08:00.001-07:00

The light in the afternoon on the building in Antigua,during the procession

2008-03-22T10:08:00.000-07:00

Oscar, behind the guy with the hatchet, carrying the anda

2008-03-22T10:06:00.000-07:00

Oscar, a little acolyte, incense, and the boys carrying the anda, which weigh tons

2008-03-22T10:05:00.000-07:00

My first glimpse of an Alfombra in progress

2008-03-22T10:04:00.000-07:00

Rich royal purple for Christ, in the robes and in the flowers

2008-03-22T10:01:00.000-07:00

Ninos procession on Holy Thursday, Oscar peeking, Oscar and the crowds

2008-03-22T10:00:00.000-07:00

Wiating for the procession to come to the park

2008-03-22T09:59:00.000-07:00

Oscar, Jennifer, Oscar, the kids of my former teacher, Ingrid, and part of extended family that I like and hang out with in Antigua

2008-03-22T09:58:00.000-07:00

Oscar and Ingrid, waiting for the Ninos procession

2008-03-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

Richard´s room at Suni Solar;Looking down at the construction mess at Suni Solar

2008-03-09T13:12:00.000-07:00

Proof I am living with nuns in Managua, looking into my messy room in Managua, Marie, my favorite nun!

2008-03-09T13:07:00.000-07:00

Roof Next Door to Nuns house, full of mangos. Sounds like a gun shot when they hit!

2008-03-09T13:04:00.000-07:00

Claudio, Suyen, and Duglas and a mural of Sandino, Che, Fonseca, and some student, outside the UNAN campus

2008-03-03T16:12:00.000-08:00

Sweet, sexy Duglas and his Mom, both of whom work at Suni Solar

2008-03-03T16:09:00.000-08:00

Duglas and Claudio get their masters in renewable energy from UNI, the first such degree. They graduated 1st and 3d despite working full time plus

2008-03-03T16:08:00.000-08:00

My liittle sister Arelis and her mom and dad in our kitchen. Mucho humo, muchas moscas

2008-03-03T16:05:00.000-08:00

Carmen, who taught me about Trovas, and Martin does his fire dance

2008-03-03T16:03:00.000-08:00

Martin cuts the rug with a one of the mujeres

2008-03-03T15:59:00.000-08:00

I say thank you!, Martin gets his certificate, one of the girls in the community dances for us

2008-03-03T15:57:00.000-08:00

Marco Antonio reads my certificate of thanks -- my musical buddy

2008-03-03T15:56:00.000-08:00

Julio gets his certificate of thanks from Grupo Fenix

2008-03-03T15:53:00.000-08:00

A "socio drama" at our going away party in Sabana Grande, about, yeah, basura, you guessed it

2008-03-03T15:52:00.000-08:00

My friend Julio. a volunteer from Spain

2008-03-03T15:46:00.000-08:00

My Sabana Grande next door neighbor and muñeca, Shirely, at our going away party

2008-03-03T15:45:00.000-08:00

Masaya Market, View from our room in Granada, Active Volcan Masaya

2008-03-03T15:43:00.000-08:00

Matagalpa market, Ometepe Island, On a chicken bus, a Matagalpean Beauty where we ate and drank

2008-03-03T15:41:00.000-08:00

Lupita, Kahty, Marxco Antonia, Nimia, Ericka

2008-03-02T17:34:00.000-08:00

Working the solar center grounds, planted with fruit trees, fruit vines, nut trees, medicinal plants

2008-03-02T17:31:00.000-08:00

Making solar ovens

2008-03-02T17:30:00.000-08:00

Making adobe bricks

2008-03-02T17:28:00.000-08:00

Why I like Sabana Grande

2008-03-02T17:24:00.000-08:00

Some of the little 5 watt panels we make from broken pieces of larger cells we get from the states

2008-03-02T17:23:00.000-08:00

this is a beautiful vine fruit that the community grows called granita

2008-03-02T17:21:00.000-08:00