Nourish Goes to Guatemala

By Catarina

Drive south about nine hours from Nebaj, almost to the Salvadorian border, and you’ll find yourself in a perfect oasis. Six of us made this drive last weekend, and it turned out to be the perfect remedy for our restlessness.

While David and QuiQui headed to the capital to be with family, the remainder of the group chartered a micro bus and took a much-needed break from the hustle-and-bustle of work and life in Nebaj. At this point, we’d been living with local families for almost a week, and we were finalizing plans for the greenhouse construction. A weekend at the beach would give CES some time to approve our plans and allow the education team to work on scripts for English-language DVDs that will be used at the centers when no English volunteers are around.

So off we went, bubbling with excitement for a change in scenery. And what a change it was.

Carlos’ family beach house in Las Lisas was perfectly suited for its climate and surroundings. With a tall, banana-leaf roof and an open-aired common area, protected from mosquitoes with nets instead of walls, the house’s plush couch and big dinner table bred conversation and laughter.

We spent the next few days floating in the pool, relaxing in one of the many hammocks, playing the addictive dudo game and braving the tall waves of the Pacific. We were joined for a few days at a time by Carlos’ older brother, Alejandro, and his fiancée Catherine, and then by Carlos’ dad, his girlfriend Audrey, and Carlos’ little sister Natalia.

Erin, Nick and I had planned out an extensive grocery list for the meals we wanted to cook. The grocery store we stopped at on the way to the beach had a produce section consisting of bananas so ripe they’d only do for banana bread, cucumbers, onions, tomatoes and limes. So you can imagine we ran into some problems. Fortunately Alejandro and Mr. Toriello brought the remainder of what we needed. Needless to say, there was quite a bit of improv cooking, all of which turned out great.

Nick and I put together an Alfredo sauce the first night, a creamy marinara the second and breakfasts with scrambled eggs and chocolate pancakes. Erin made an amazing chicken parmesan the third night, as well as chocolate rice krispies. Carlos had asked me to make a marble cake when he heard me raving about it, so I was finally able to when Mr. Toriello and Audrey brought baking powder.

In the evenings, before the dining fiasco, we would sit down on the beach. Facing a pink a peach glow reflected in the receding ebb of the tireless ocean, we talked. Sometimes it was to hear Mr. Toriello’s political stories about various enigmatic relatives and sometimes just to discuss the day’s events.

Speaking of daily events, Nick and I experienced the true force of the mighty Pacific. When everyone else sat down for a game of dudo one afternoon, I convinced Nick to come swimming with me. We were just talking and dodging waves when a little while later we noticed we hadn’t gone under a wave in a while. Looking behind us, we realized that the beach was pretty far away. Carlos had explained the rip tide danger, and we thought we were being careful, but I guess we got dragged into it. We started swimming side stroke to get back to shore. Just when I thought we weren’t getting anywhere, we were swept up in a huge wave. I heard Nick tell me to ride it just as I went under. I popped up after being thrown around, but didn’t see Nick. He finally came up, telling me he was under for almost a minute. GREAAAAT. Well, we continued to swim calmly and made it back to the beach, safe, sound and exhausted. Mr. Toriello made us some daiquiris when we got back, which sure helped relax us.

So that, in a nut shell, was our beach weekend. Although eventful at times, it was mostly relaxing and a great time to enjoy good food, friends and weather. If that soothing humidity could only have followed us back to Nebaj. Alas, we’ll deal with the rainy season for a few more days.

By Pavak

Step 1: Level the plot

If you’re the lucky, the plot chosen for the greenhouse to be built upon will be level.
If you’re us… it won’t.
So here’s the deal, you’re standing on a slope. You want to build there. It’s sloped. If this were the States you could call up the local contracting agency, they’d bring in a bulldozer and voila! Level plot! Unfortunately you’re not in the States.
Crap.
Panic?
I think not!
All you need is a broad wooden plank, a sturdy wooden pole, two pieces of rope and two oxen. We call it “El Toro.”
Oh wait, you were thinking this part would be easy now, weren’t you? Ha! You forgot the small detail of having limited resources. The changes this would make? Simple- just replace the two oxen with two able-bodied team members. It helps to wrap the rope around your hips once before tying a knot. Dig in your boots… and pull!

Ok… so three days and 25 cubic meters of dirt and one upturned landfill later (you didn’t think that all you’d end up moving was dirt did you?) you have a (reasonably) level plot. Continue on…

Step 2: Plan the greenhouse
Here’s what you’ll need:
3 local Peace Corps volunteers whose entire purpose in life for the next two years is agriculture.
1 aging cynical American ex-pat freedom fighter addicted to nicotine and caffeine. Mad skills with grilled cheese are always a plus.
1 computer preloaded with Microsoft Excel to create mechanically precise (ha!) sketches of the planned assembly.
Google.com
8 people that have no idea what they’re doing.

Here’s what you do:
Trial-and-error.

Tips:
PVC is your friend.
PVC glue is evil and must be avoided like it carries the plague. Or Dengue Fever.
Duct tape rules. I wish we had some…
Packing tape is typically worse than useless. Masking tape… don’t even bother.

Step 3: Build the greenhouse
Here’s what you do:
Trial-and-error.

Think I’m kidding? Think again.

Now, you might look at these instructions and think to yourself, “Man, I’m screwed…” but keep in mind that god loves development workers. Things have the most ridiculously insane tendency of just working out. I mean, not more than 48 hours ago I was standing in the plot we’ve been building the greenhouse on with a sinking feeling in my gut upon the realization that the PVC piping we purchased was too thin and would not hold weight. Today? Well, let’s just say there’s a smile on my face again. Over the course of the past few days I think we’ve been given a taste of what some people working here go through for years at a time, the rollercoaster ride from optimism to despair and back again. Besides, even jaded old dogs sometimes need the naïveté of a group of 8 American do-gooders to remember why they came here in the first place. After all, we’re Nourish International, and while we may not end up saving the world, you can sure bet we’re going to try.

Pavak out.

 By Russ Spitler

Ok, this entry is a few weeks late, but it is here. I departed Gaute 22 May in order to complete Navy ROTC training. The night before I left, Steph, a friend of Connor’s, and I decided to take a microbus from Nebaj to Santa Cruz and then voyage to Antigua via chicken bus. I was glad to join Steph since she had made the five hour trip before and since my Spanish was still developing day by day. As we neared Antigua we got off the cozy bus to visit the school where Steph had been volunteering. Sadly, I cannot remember the name of the school at the moment, but I plan on writing on it when I get my hands on my notes from the trip. Anyway, it was awesome.

We spent the night at Steph’s house in town. Other volunteers from the school were living there. Carrie, from CES, came over for dinner, and it was baller. I bought five pounds of coffee from the school, and it is quite tasty. The 22nd I took a taxi to the city. The driver and I talked about politics, our project, well, quite a lot of things actually. At the airport I ran into John and his wife, who work with the Full Belly Project. We were catching the same flight to Charlotte. While waiting for our bags in CLT, John told me about his tattoo from the Southern Pacific. I apologize that this is scatterbrained and is lacking in literary vitamins and minerals, but I only have a few minutes. I wanted to at least put something online since I have not done so in a while. I will post something worthwhile in a week or two.

Cheers!!

By Erin Mulfinger

Last Sunday morning, we said goodbye to the hostel that had been our home for the past week and a half. We paired off and ventured into different areas of Nebaj to begin our stays with local families. Now, instead of sharing experiences as a group, we have been getting to know individual members of the community by learning their stories, eating their food, and getting a glimpse into their everyday lives.

We have gotten into a routine of eating breakfast and dinner with the families, and spending the day together, either working as a group or in small teams on what we came here to do. I have spent the past few mornings working with Nick and Steve on plans for creating a curriculum for teaching English at the Exploration Center. Currently, the children have English class scheduled three times per week, but for those times that a teacher is not available we will hopefully be creating DVDs for them to watch.

During the afternoons, the three of us read with the children individually at the Exploration Center. For the most part we read with the same children each day in an effort to track progress. Reading at home is not something many of these children experience on a regular basis. Therefore, they are not given the opportunity to develop the imaginative and creative thinking that results from such stimulation.

I have noticed a partiular difficulty among many of the children with distinguishing fantasy from reality. We read The Magic School Bus in the Solar System and one young girl nodded her head when I asked her whether a school bus would actually be able to go into outer space. When I asked her why she thought so, she was unable to answer me. I have also noticed such a struggle to answer when the children are asked what their opinions are about the readings or anything else.

Developing imaginations and critical thinking through reading is an important goal of the Exploration Center, and one with which I am in strong agreement. Although reading seems like such a simple exercise, I know that I sometimes forget how lucky I am to have begun reading with my family at such a young age and to have had parents and teachers who talked to me and asked me about my opinions from when I was very small.

By: Steve Mullaney

Today I ate what translates as “divorced eggs.” They were delicious. Pretty much everything that I’ve eaten here in Guatemala has been amazing. Black beans are a universal hit with the group I’m travelling with; other favorites include plantains, papaya, and pretty much every breakfast food we’ve tried. I mention food not for the cheap point of “things sure are different here in a country that’s not the United States” but to put the kibosh on what can be thought of informally as “Y’all Gonna Die Syndrome”

Before leaving, it seems that every single student in the travel group was harassed within the confines of a formalized travel presentation by someone who went on and on about how they were going to die/get sick/get attacked—by rabid dogs no less—over the course of their trip. I’m absolutely NOT attacking the concept of safety here; knowing what awaits you is very important, as is knowing how to properly deal with situations as they arise. I am, however, opposed to artificially constructed scenarios which pass as absolute truth that create an enlightened Us and an ignorant Other. In the case of all the presentations we were made to sit through, dangers of other countries were highlighted at the expense of the dangers in the USA. Relatively mundane setbacks (traveler’s diarrhea, pickpockets, the horror!) are made to be extremely damning—almost to the point where one would want to consider taking a trip at all.

Through this presentation the presenter is normalizing an extremely problematic juxtaposition: the US is safe (read: superior), the Global South is unsafe (read: inferior). In the case of traveler’s diarrhea the implicit suggestion is being made that by going somewhere else you will be exposed to inherently inferior water/food/other and that it—the other culture more so than the water/food itself—will physically attack your body and take you out. Never mind that people get sick EVERYWHERE, or that travel and everything that goes along with it is a shock to the system; inferior Guatemalan lettuce from inferior Guatemalan farmers will make you sick. By focusing solely on one aspect of health, this decontextualizes the realities of public health and sets up a very easy jump in logic: if US lettuce is superior to Guatemalan lettuce therefore the US is superior to Guatemala. Furthermore, this comparison completely removes the historical context for why it is safe to eat American lettuce and not Guatemalan lettuce: colonialism allowed the rich white male elite to mobilize political, economic and military forces against the poor, the female, and/or people of color. This favored safe agricultural methods in the areas where the elite were concentrated over areas where the masses were concentrated (this is even true within the US itself—produce in grocery stores in wealthy areas is infinitely better than produce in poor areas; this trend has been well documented). Consequentially, the elite are able to enjoy lettuce in their salads, whereas the non-elite cannot without risking illness. Clearly, presentations on health risks need to highlight certain topics—it’s important to know the necessary vaccinations or that lettuce should be avoided, however, this is a very, very incomplete picture that needs to be acknowledged as such. Statistics and factoids taken out of context lead to erroneous assumptions and the reinforcement of xenophobic stereotyping and attitudes.

The foreign pickpocket is another troubling image conjured up in these presentations because it makes the assumption that pickpockets do not exist in the United States. While true that there are certain areas where pickpockets are more likely to strike, this fact still leads to the jump from “in Guatemala there is a small percentage of people who in certain areas are likely to try and take my money” to “all Guatemalans will try and steal my money”. Much like illness, crime happens everywhere—people are more prone to falling victim to crime in unfamiliar areas (travel = unfamiliar, folks) and when they stand out as easy targets, like the author of this post who is six feet tall and white as the underbelly of a dead toad. The racialized foreign pickpocket (pickpockets are rarely thought of as white) is always emphasized at the expense of strategies for dealing with theft: spread out your money, only bring what’s necessary and leave everything else in a safe place, accept that this might be a cost of travel and that $20 is not that big of a deal in the long run. Crime seems to be much more shocking on the small scale: when you lose twenty bucks it’s the end of the world, however, when a government conspires against its people to start a war based on false pretenses which costs billions upon billions of dollars, kills thousands and disrupts the lives of millions (hypothetical example) then that’s just hunky dory.

Finally, the traveler’s presentation omits dangers of living in the US—like watching an average of five hours of TV a day and becoming boring, or chasing money at the expense of relationships. It’s dangerous to be alive; life is something which leads to death. While there are things that will make it more likely that one dies at a young age (smoking, not wearing a seatbelt, etc) the travel presentation creates the illusion that by staying in the country it is impossible to die. Nothing could be farther from the truth; at any point you could be crushed by a falling rock, whether in the United States, Guatemala or any other place in the world. Through highlighting foreign dangers exaggerated visibility is given to another place and the US is artificially normalized as safe, and by extension, superior.

In some ways this essay is a bit nitpicky, in others it doesn’t go far enough. Travel at its best breaks barriers and humanizes, the travel presentation fights this. Through travel (whether one neighborhood or one ocean away) there is the unique opportunity to interact with and build relationships with folks who would have otherwise been strangers. In the fight for a more just world creating solidarity is one of the tools that exists to achieve these ends. By putting up artificial barriers to interacting with folks from other countries the travel presentation undermines the ability of the US traveler to engage with locals on the level of equals.

…have fun and be safe on your trip, and if you come down to Guatemala make sure to try the huevos divorciados. But you will most likely get traveler’s diarrhea. And you will like it. So there.