I'm going home. Wow. I would like to begin by saying that I'm really happy with this decision and that I've received incredible support from Peace Corps staff, fellow volunteers, my host family, and my family at home. So now everyone can stop holding their breath and hopefully enjoy reading how this decision came about so abruptly.
I never made it to my site, but you can read all about that in my previous post. The house being ready "just now" turned into a month-long waiting game that left everyone a bit disillusioned and weary of the whole situation. Peace Corps thought it best to remove me from the site and place me elsewhere. As it turns out, there weren't really any alternate sites that would have created a better situation... I would write more on this matter but I don't particularly feel like pointing fingers or blaming anyone for what happened because, well, I'm happy. So we'll leave it at that.
These past several weeks in limbo gave me a lot of time to think. As it turns out, my experience with Peace Corps was not what I had expected. When I first applied for the Peace Corps 16 months ago, my life looked completely different than it does now. I wanted to do service work, that's a given for any PCV, but I also was hungry for new experiences in a new place. I had nothing holding me back. No commitments, no responsibilities, and no reasons to stay. It made sense to do this. Just as it made sense to join the Peace Corps all those many months ago, it now makes sense for me to go home. I've realized that being away from the love of my life for the next two years is an unfathomably daunting task. Call it fate, insanity, coincidence, divine intervention, or just my golden ticket out, but when things fell through with my site, I felt as if it all happened for a reason. Hence why I feel so good about this decision.
Guyana has taught me so much. No matter where you go, people are the same. Time isn't all that important and watches might just be a waste of money. Dogs and children are the loudest things on the planet, goats are the cutest. It is possible to sweat profusely 24/7, though not pleasant. There's nothing better than fresh coconut water on a hot day, coming home to the smell of curry cooking when you're hungry, huddling under a mosquito net with close friends to watch a movie, and telling Guyanese people about what you made for dinner and having them say, "Wha? You cook dat all in one pot?!" Oh, and having them ask you "Shopping, shopping?" when you're clearly shopping. I'll never forget gaffing with Anita over breakfast, life chats with Kristin (I promise that I'll try to not be so pretentious this time around ;)), Marsh's poetry recitations, days marked only by the number of pages colored in a coloring book, leading yoga sessions at the landing, nearly sinking in the Essequibo River, burning my fingers while attempting to properly clap roti, or singing "I Will Always Love You" to a random guy on the street (that's another story).
I'm coming home with only happy memories. Guyana came at the right time in my life and it taught me what's really important in life. Namely, love. Go figure, right? So if anyone wants to find me, I'll be in San Francisco. It's time for my next big adventure, but this time I won't be flying solo :) Wish me luck!
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
just now
I arrived on the Essequibo coast almost 3 weeks ago with the intention of moving into my new house and beginning my service. Things don't always go as planned. Life near the equator is strange. You see, there are no seasons. It's always summer. There are no mornings, no afternoons, and no evenings. When the sun rises, it rises all the way, and when it sets, well, it just sets. Complete darkness in a matter of seconds. Everything in between is just midday.
I had to make a trip to Georgetown on Saturday to retrieve some packages from home that were being held at the post office. My watch stopped working at 11:20 a.m. and I spent the entire day having no clue what time it was. Before I caught on, I actually thought it was 11:20 for most of the day! As I was taking the speedboat home, I thought that it could be any time between 2 and 6 p.m. I forget sometimes that time even exists because there are no indicators. It's permanently noon on a hot summer day. That being said, no one is in a hurry to finish my house.
Further proof that time is irrelevant in Guyana is the phrase "just now." What does "just now" mean? Well, it means that something is going to take place in an unspecified time period. For instance, you may ask a mini-bus driver when his bus is going to leave. "Just now, Miss, just now." You may wait 1 minute, or 10, or 20, or an hour. You never really know. You may ask someone what time dinner will be ready. "Just now." When a meeting will start. "Just now." Or even when your house will be ready so that you can move into your community and start work. "Just now."
I realize that I may be coming across as frustrated or annoyed but I'm not at all. I've learned a lot about acceptance over these past few months. Sometimes you just have to let go of all expectations. You simply have to live in the present moment. Once you stop thinking about what's even going to happen in the next 10 minutes, "just now" makes perfect sense. In the States, our days are almost always predetermined. We have the whole day mapped out before we even get out of bed. The alarm goes off at a specific time. We leave for work at a specific time. We clock in at a specific time. We take lunch. We go home. We cook dinner. We watch the evening news. And before you know it, it's bedtime. Things are different when time doesn't exist. The sun comes up, you get out of bed. Once you finish the morning chores, you go to work. When you get hungry, you go home for lunch. Start to get restless in the afternoon? Workday is over. You cook when you're hungry. You sleep when the mosquitoes are hungry. It's simple. What you don't get done today, you can get done tomorrow. No deadlines, no timelines, no schedules. You just live life.
Farewell for now, all you slaves of the clock. I promise to write again just now.
I had to make a trip to Georgetown on Saturday to retrieve some packages from home that were being held at the post office. My watch stopped working at 11:20 a.m. and I spent the entire day having no clue what time it was. Before I caught on, I actually thought it was 11:20 for most of the day! As I was taking the speedboat home, I thought that it could be any time between 2 and 6 p.m. I forget sometimes that time even exists because there are no indicators. It's permanently noon on a hot summer day. That being said, no one is in a hurry to finish my house.
Further proof that time is irrelevant in Guyana is the phrase "just now." What does "just now" mean? Well, it means that something is going to take place in an unspecified time period. For instance, you may ask a mini-bus driver when his bus is going to leave. "Just now, Miss, just now." You may wait 1 minute, or 10, or 20, or an hour. You never really know. You may ask someone what time dinner will be ready. "Just now." When a meeting will start. "Just now." Or even when your house will be ready so that you can move into your community and start work. "Just now."
I realize that I may be coming across as frustrated or annoyed but I'm not at all. I've learned a lot about acceptance over these past few months. Sometimes you just have to let go of all expectations. You simply have to live in the present moment. Once you stop thinking about what's even going to happen in the next 10 minutes, "just now" makes perfect sense. In the States, our days are almost always predetermined. We have the whole day mapped out before we even get out of bed. The alarm goes off at a specific time. We leave for work at a specific time. We clock in at a specific time. We take lunch. We go home. We cook dinner. We watch the evening news. And before you know it, it's bedtime. Things are different when time doesn't exist. The sun comes up, you get out of bed. Once you finish the morning chores, you go to work. When you get hungry, you go home for lunch. Start to get restless in the afternoon? Workday is over. You cook when you're hungry. You sleep when the mosquitoes are hungry. It's simple. What you don't get done today, you can get done tomorrow. No deadlines, no timelines, no schedules. You just live life.
Farewell for now, all you slaves of the clock. I promise to write again just now.
Monday, April 11, 2011
goodbye st. cuthbert's, hello mashabo
The hardest part of coming to Guyana to serve in the Peace Corps was saying goodbye to everyone I know and love at home. I experienced the same sadness and feeling of loss when I left my host family this morning in preparation for the big move to my site on Thursday. They really have become my family. I now have families on 3 different continents- I have my actual family in the States, my family in Italy, and now a family in Guyana. I feel so overwhelmingly loved and blessed. Traveling in and of itself is great, but nothing compares to the experience of becoming a part of a family abroad. I have been showered with constant love, affection, support, and appreciation over the past 8 weeks. Anita refers to me as her first-born American daughter- she says that even if/when she has other PCTs stay with her in the future, I'll always be the first and most special :)
I've had countless wonderful experiences over the past two months of training, but this weekend has by far been the most memorable time spent in St. Cuthbert's. We held a Family Appreciation ceremony on Friday night. I was in charge of all of the planning and organizing for the event- I quickly fell into my old role as caterer :) Along with a few other friends, I made pineapple salsa that was to die for! So tasty! We didn't have tortilla chips so we just ate it with cassava bread, an Amerindian staple. It actually turned out to be more reminiscent of bruschetta once the cassava bread soaked up the salsa and it got a bit softer. Family Appreciation was followed by Culture Day on Saturday. The highlights were our group singing the national anthem in harmony (it was actually quite good), a feast of delicious food shared by the entire community, and a rousing game of cricket that was kicked off by yours truly. That's right, I was first to bat! I was apparently quite entertaining to watch- the entire community was rolling with laughter :) Anita told me afterward that she had never seen me smile so big, laugh so hard, or make such funny jokes (Casey and Lisa, are you guys reading this? See, I did come to the Peace Corps and get funny!). I'd call it a successful day :)
Yesterday was my last day with my host family. Anita took me to the landing along with Robern, some other family members, and a few of the trainees. We spent the day gaffing, drinking Banks, grilling chicken, frying plantains, swimming in the river, making jokes, and soaking up the sun. It was the best picnic ever :) And no one worry, I didn't eat chicken (although it was tempting...)! I don't think that I've ever consumed so many calories in one day. Anita made me a huge lunch before we even went out to the landing. It was probably the best meal that I've ever had- daal and rice with curried pumpkin and bok choy. She also roasted some peanuts... Oh, and we had guava, grapefruit, and homemade guacamole! Needless to say, I've been detoxing today and have only eaten fruit.
I had no idea just how much my host family loved me until today. Robern had huge tears rolling down his cheeks when I told him goodbye this morning. He was so upset that he couldn't even look at me. I asked him if he was crying because he was going to miss me and he just nodded his head. I wish that I could've packed him up and taken him with me. Anita wasn't much better. I found comfort in knowing that I'll see her again on Wednesday for the swearing-in ceremony. That't the only reason I was able to hold it together. All of our host families walked us into the Mission to see us off. Somehow all of us managed to cram inside one truck. Let's just say that I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. I got a call from Anita a few minutes ago. She just wanted to make sure that I had made it to town safely and that I had been fed a proper lunch :) What am I going to do without that woman?!
The first part of my journey is complete. Training is over. I survived, I flourished, and I thrived. I can't wait to start my service! I almost forgot to mention, the village council in Mashabo decided to build me a new house! Life is sweet (pineapple is sweeter :)).
I've had countless wonderful experiences over the past two months of training, but this weekend has by far been the most memorable time spent in St. Cuthbert's. We held a Family Appreciation ceremony on Friday night. I was in charge of all of the planning and organizing for the event- I quickly fell into my old role as caterer :) Along with a few other friends, I made pineapple salsa that was to die for! So tasty! We didn't have tortilla chips so we just ate it with cassava bread, an Amerindian staple. It actually turned out to be more reminiscent of bruschetta once the cassava bread soaked up the salsa and it got a bit softer. Family Appreciation was followed by Culture Day on Saturday. The highlights were our group singing the national anthem in harmony (it was actually quite good), a feast of delicious food shared by the entire community, and a rousing game of cricket that was kicked off by yours truly. That's right, I was first to bat! I was apparently quite entertaining to watch- the entire community was rolling with laughter :) Anita told me afterward that she had never seen me smile so big, laugh so hard, or make such funny jokes (Casey and Lisa, are you guys reading this? See, I did come to the Peace Corps and get funny!). I'd call it a successful day :)
Yesterday was my last day with my host family. Anita took me to the landing along with Robern, some other family members, and a few of the trainees. We spent the day gaffing, drinking Banks, grilling chicken, frying plantains, swimming in the river, making jokes, and soaking up the sun. It was the best picnic ever :) And no one worry, I didn't eat chicken (although it was tempting...)! I don't think that I've ever consumed so many calories in one day. Anita made me a huge lunch before we even went out to the landing. It was probably the best meal that I've ever had- daal and rice with curried pumpkin and bok choy. She also roasted some peanuts... Oh, and we had guava, grapefruit, and homemade guacamole! Needless to say, I've been detoxing today and have only eaten fruit.
I had no idea just how much my host family loved me until today. Robern had huge tears rolling down his cheeks when I told him goodbye this morning. He was so upset that he couldn't even look at me. I asked him if he was crying because he was going to miss me and he just nodded his head. I wish that I could've packed him up and taken him with me. Anita wasn't much better. I found comfort in knowing that I'll see her again on Wednesday for the swearing-in ceremony. That't the only reason I was able to hold it together. All of our host families walked us into the Mission to see us off. Somehow all of us managed to cram inside one truck. Let's just say that I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. I got a call from Anita a few minutes ago. She just wanted to make sure that I had made it to town safely and that I had been fed a proper lunch :) What am I going to do without that woman?!
The first part of my journey is complete. Training is over. I survived, I flourished, and I thrived. I can't wait to start my service! I almost forgot to mention, the village council in Mashabo decided to build me a new house! Life is sweet (pineapple is sweeter :)).
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
humble pie and chow mein with roti
(March 25, 2011)
Last night was one of the best nights of my life. You don't realize what you have until you step away from it for a while. You learn to miss it. You feel its absence. When the PC truck dropped me off in front of my host family's house in the training community yesterday evening, I felt as if my heart might explode. I heard Anita's voice call out to me from the kitchen and immediately dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes, and felt my entire body sigh with relief when I turned the corner and first saw her vibrant, lively face. We gaffed in the kitchen for hours. We ate pumpkin until we were satisfied and laughed until we had worked it all off. I then took what was the most refreshing bath of my life. A bucket bath, indeed, but I had never felt so clean. I stood completely naked for the first time in 5 days. I had never felt so free, so new, so whole. The anticipation of sleep was almost unbearable. My tired, neglected, and starved body crawled into bed, which might as well have been the palm of God's hand, and I experienced solitude as I never had before. I was alone for the first time in what seemed like a century. No need to think, feel, say, do, or be anything. I just was. I just am.
Self awareness is a slice of humble pie. I thought I really knew myself before I left home, but trust me, you have no idea who you are until you're no longer you. When you open the door of an outhouse and find yourself thinking, "Hey, not bad," you're not you anymore. When you hold a plastic babydoll in your arms and practice breastfeeding so that you can counsel nursing mothers and you think, "Wow, I really do want to have a baby one day," you're not you anymore. When you see a chicken strolling along the road in front of you and your protein-starved self thinks, "Yeah, maybe chickens are food," you definitely are no longer you. When you laugh at how pretentious you were for thinking that living in the bush for two years was somehow your duty to humanity, you are no longer you. You're actually more of yourself than you ever thought possible. You're the real you for the first time in your life. All you can do is laugh at how human you are, how conventional you've always been, and how okay you are with just being normal for the rest of your life.
My site visit was comparable to an episode of Gilligan's Island. I've been assigned to a tiny Amerindian lake community just inland from the Essequibo coast. It takes a mini-bus, a speedboat, two taxis, and another speedboat to get to my village from Georgetown. The journey was interesting enough having only a backpack, a duffel bag, and a life jacket to lug around, so I'm not exactly looking forward to traveling back to my village with all of my stuff, plus a mattress, a two-burner stove, a propane tank, a bucket filtration system, and anything else that I collect along the way. I'll be sure to document the misadventure when the time comes. But there is light at the end of the tunnel: my village is almostly painfully beautiful. Seriously, it's a tropical paradise. I have a waterfront view from my house with palm trees and lush greenery everywhere. It's isolated, completely undeveloped, pristine in its natural beauty, and almost hauntingly quiet.
My house is in the process of being built. It's actually a pavilion that's being converted into a very simple wooden house with a single bedroom and a small sitting area. The decision to convert the pavilion into a house was strategic- it's located right next door to the primary school's kitchen, meaning that my kitchen is the school cafeteria. I'm hoping that I'll at least get a few free lunches out of the deal... It looks like I'll be having the PC experience that I always anticipated- I'll have an outhouse, a washroom to take bucket baths, a rain tank to collect the water that I'll use for bathing, cooking, washing, and drinking, no internet, and no electricity. On the plus side, I will have cell phone reception and the community is placing a small solar panel on my roof, so maybe (fingers crossed) I'll have enough power to have one small bulb and to keep my cellphone and netbook charged. My village feels super isolated, but I'm actually not too far from a cluster of other volunteers along the Essequibo Coast. I also have fairly decent access to several markets and shops in nearby towns.
OK, so let's get to the good stuff... The holy job description... It's almost too good to be true. My village has a small health post with two Community Health Workers (CHWs). One of them is a trained midwife and has been single-handedly delivering all of the babies in the community for the past 17 years. In that time, she's only had to refer 5 mothers to the regional hospital. Pretty impressive, right? So this isn't necessarily part of my job description, but we currently have five pregnant women and I'll be assisting with all of the deliveries! I'm super excited! Back to the job description... Nutritional counseling/education is a huge need in my community. Because the village is so isolated and it's quite costly to get into town, most of the villagers have very poor nutrition. Here's an example of what I was fed one day in site, which can be described as the typical diet of the community: for breakfast I had two huge rotis with channa and porridge (like oatmeal), lunch consisted of an insane mound of white rice with potato curry, a pine tart served as a snack, and dinner (the most painful dinner of my life) was more roti with a plethora of chow mein. My poor belly was swollen for the rest of the week :( In order to save the bellies of my fellow villagers, the CHWs and I will be constructing home gardens throughout the village. Yay for veggies! But it gets better. Family planning and sex education are are at the forefront of the work expected of me. Teen pregnancy is as common in my village as it is in Bartow County. And better yet, the CHWs said that I don't have to teach abstinence-only sex ed! Yay for more young girls taking care of their bodies and staying in school!
My site visit invoked some major fears, doubts, anxieties, and self-realizations that just continued to cumulate throughout the week, as I had zero privacy or time to process everything that was happening around me, to me, and within me. The only time I was alone for 5 days was when I used the latrine. I bathed in the creek morning and night with my host sister. I ate with my host family. I napped in the hammock with a host family member or neighbor only steps away from me. I even slept in the bed with my host sister. There was never time to think, to process, to debrief, or even to relax. Alone time has been very much utilized since returning to the training site. I'm feeling back to myself, my new self, that is. I feel good. I feel ready. And most importantly, I've learned not to take myself so seriously.
Last night was one of the best nights of my life. You don't realize what you have until you step away from it for a while. You learn to miss it. You feel its absence. When the PC truck dropped me off in front of my host family's house in the training community yesterday evening, I felt as if my heart might explode. I heard Anita's voice call out to me from the kitchen and immediately dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes, and felt my entire body sigh with relief when I turned the corner and first saw her vibrant, lively face. We gaffed in the kitchen for hours. We ate pumpkin until we were satisfied and laughed until we had worked it all off. I then took what was the most refreshing bath of my life. A bucket bath, indeed, but I had never felt so clean. I stood completely naked for the first time in 5 days. I had never felt so free, so new, so whole. The anticipation of sleep was almost unbearable. My tired, neglected, and starved body crawled into bed, which might as well have been the palm of God's hand, and I experienced solitude as I never had before. I was alone for the first time in what seemed like a century. No need to think, feel, say, do, or be anything. I just was. I just am.
Self awareness is a slice of humble pie. I thought I really knew myself before I left home, but trust me, you have no idea who you are until you're no longer you. When you open the door of an outhouse and find yourself thinking, "Hey, not bad," you're not you anymore. When you hold a plastic babydoll in your arms and practice breastfeeding so that you can counsel nursing mothers and you think, "Wow, I really do want to have a baby one day," you're not you anymore. When you see a chicken strolling along the road in front of you and your protein-starved self thinks, "Yeah, maybe chickens are food," you definitely are no longer you. When you laugh at how pretentious you were for thinking that living in the bush for two years was somehow your duty to humanity, you are no longer you. You're actually more of yourself than you ever thought possible. You're the real you for the first time in your life. All you can do is laugh at how human you are, how conventional you've always been, and how okay you are with just being normal for the rest of your life.
My site visit was comparable to an episode of Gilligan's Island. I've been assigned to a tiny Amerindian lake community just inland from the Essequibo coast. It takes a mini-bus, a speedboat, two taxis, and another speedboat to get to my village from Georgetown. The journey was interesting enough having only a backpack, a duffel bag, and a life jacket to lug around, so I'm not exactly looking forward to traveling back to my village with all of my stuff, plus a mattress, a two-burner stove, a propane tank, a bucket filtration system, and anything else that I collect along the way. I'll be sure to document the misadventure when the time comes. But there is light at the end of the tunnel: my village is almostly painfully beautiful. Seriously, it's a tropical paradise. I have a waterfront view from my house with palm trees and lush greenery everywhere. It's isolated, completely undeveloped, pristine in its natural beauty, and almost hauntingly quiet.
My house is in the process of being built. It's actually a pavilion that's being converted into a very simple wooden house with a single bedroom and a small sitting area. The decision to convert the pavilion into a house was strategic- it's located right next door to the primary school's kitchen, meaning that my kitchen is the school cafeteria. I'm hoping that I'll at least get a few free lunches out of the deal... It looks like I'll be having the PC experience that I always anticipated- I'll have an outhouse, a washroom to take bucket baths, a rain tank to collect the water that I'll use for bathing, cooking, washing, and drinking, no internet, and no electricity. On the plus side, I will have cell phone reception and the community is placing a small solar panel on my roof, so maybe (fingers crossed) I'll have enough power to have one small bulb and to keep my cellphone and netbook charged. My village feels super isolated, but I'm actually not too far from a cluster of other volunteers along the Essequibo Coast. I also have fairly decent access to several markets and shops in nearby towns.
OK, so let's get to the good stuff... The holy job description... It's almost too good to be true. My village has a small health post with two Community Health Workers (CHWs). One of them is a trained midwife and has been single-handedly delivering all of the babies in the community for the past 17 years. In that time, she's only had to refer 5 mothers to the regional hospital. Pretty impressive, right? So this isn't necessarily part of my job description, but we currently have five pregnant women and I'll be assisting with all of the deliveries! I'm super excited! Back to the job description... Nutritional counseling/education is a huge need in my community. Because the village is so isolated and it's quite costly to get into town, most of the villagers have very poor nutrition. Here's an example of what I was fed one day in site, which can be described as the typical diet of the community: for breakfast I had two huge rotis with channa and porridge (like oatmeal), lunch consisted of an insane mound of white rice with potato curry, a pine tart served as a snack, and dinner (the most painful dinner of my life) was more roti with a plethora of chow mein. My poor belly was swollen for the rest of the week :( In order to save the bellies of my fellow villagers, the CHWs and I will be constructing home gardens throughout the village. Yay for veggies! But it gets better. Family planning and sex education are are at the forefront of the work expected of me. Teen pregnancy is as common in my village as it is in Bartow County. And better yet, the CHWs said that I don't have to teach abstinence-only sex ed! Yay for more young girls taking care of their bodies and staying in school!
My site visit invoked some major fears, doubts, anxieties, and self-realizations that just continued to cumulate throughout the week, as I had zero privacy or time to process everything that was happening around me, to me, and within me. The only time I was alone for 5 days was when I used the latrine. I bathed in the creek morning and night with my host sister. I ate with my host family. I napped in the hammock with a host family member or neighbor only steps away from me. I even slept in the bed with my host sister. There was never time to think, to process, to debrief, or even to relax. Alone time has been very much utilized since returning to the training site. I'm feeling back to myself, my new self, that is. I feel good. I feel ready. And most importantly, I've learned not to take myself so seriously.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
dirty feet and measuring tape
I'm writing this post from my modest bedroom, veiled by a partially functioning mosquito net, clad in my favorite pj pants (which I've had since I was 16) and my boyfriend's t-shirt, and listening to one of my favorite albums, Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago." This is the closest I'm going to get to home right now. I've been neglecting my blog for these past few weeks not because I haven't had anything to say, but because I didn't really know how to start recounting all of the experiences I've already had here in Guyana. The first three weeks here have flown by, making me realize that I should start writing now before I forget some of these experiences. So here goes.
In order to more effectively prepare us for the experience we will have in Guyana, Peace Corps divided our training group into two camps- urban/coastal and remote. I was sent to the remote training site along with 11 other trainees. Throughout the weeks, our remote training group has diminshed to only 7 trainees. The rest of the 20-30 something (I've already lost count!) trainees are in a city along the coast. I'm quite content to be here- It's a small Amerindian community with a population of approximately 1,500 people, located in Region 4 of Guyana. I have a fantastic host family! I live with my host mom, Anita, my host dad, Linden, my host brother, Kimmon (16), and host nephew, Robern (7). Unlike the other shy and reserved women in the village, Anita is confident, out-spoken, and full of life and positive energy. Linden is a miner and travels into the hinterland regions for work, so I haven't seen much of him, but I do know that he's an excellent conversationalist, is very attentive, and is quite the pastry chef. Kimmon received his teaching certification and now teaches at the local secondary school. He's a super smart kid, very mature for his age, and constantly listens to music on his mp3 player. Robern is a pretty cool little kid. I never knew that a 7 year old could be so self-sufficient! Lately I've been reading with him during the day or after dinner- he does great in math but seems to have fallen through the cracks in reading. I've made getting him up to speed my own little project while I'm here in the community.
I spend most of my "free" time helping Anita in the kitchen or doing daily chores, but there's always a few minutes each day to spend lounging in the hammock with a good book. Time moves slowly here but there's always so much to do! Simple chores like bathing, washing clothes, preparing meals, and tidying up take a huge chunk out of the day. On a typical day, I wake by 6:00 a.m., practice yoga outside for about half an hour, take a bucket bath, dress, and eat breakfast (usually fried plantains or a boiled egg with fresh orange juice) before heading to training sessions at 8:00 a.m. At the end of the day, I get home just in time to help Anita with dinner. I can now make four types of Guyanese bread: roti, dry bake, oil bake, and fry bake (roti is my favorite). My favorite Guyanese dishes are the curries- I can make a mean potato and eggplant curry, and pumpkin curry with roti is one of the best meals that I've ever had. Oh, and the chickpeas (which the Guyanese call channa) are delicious anytime of the day- I particularly enjoy them for Sunday brunch :) There's also no shortage of fresh fruits here- pineapples, mangoes, paw-paw (papaya), bananas, oranges, coconuts, and passion fruit are a few of the things you can literally find just lying around. We have orange and coconut trees in our own backyard. In case anyone was wondering, grating coconut is not for the faint of heart- it's quite the workout!
Our training sessions have been going well. Today I gave my first health talk at the local health post and was very pleased with how things went. The talk was on family planning (my favorite health topic) and the birth control methods available to the community. We had an audience of about 15 secondary school students and a few young adults. I never thought that after only 3 weeks in country I'd be standing in front of a group of Amerindian teenagers talking about pregancy prevention and how to effectively use condoms, considering that Amerindian communities are known to be extremely conservative and that the schools have no existing sex education curriculum, so I'm ecstatic that the topic went over so well! The community health workers have requested that our health trainees present further talks on the topics of HIV/AIDS, other STIs, and drug and alcohol abuse. I finally feel like I'm actually doing something here, which is a wonderful (and much needed) feeling.
As I was walking home this afternoon, I was approached by a woman in the community who had heard through the grapevine (which is quite extensive around these parts) that I needed a pair of slippers to wear around the house. I had never met her before, but she came running out of the house when she saw me passing by, measuring tape in hand, and quickly introduced herself before she proceeded to lean down and measure my dirty feet. She asked me if I prefered any particular pattern and if I needed them by any specific time, to which I answered no to both questions. She replied that she already had the fabric picked out for me and that I would have the slippers by tomorrow. This must be how celebrities feel during the award's season. I continued to walk home with a grin on my face and an added hop in my step when I heard a little voice call out my name in a half-giggle, half-shrill of excitement. I looked up to see the bright, pretty face of a little 4 year old girl who lives down the street. I smiled, waved back, and walked away with a warmed heart, tears in my eyes, and an even bigger smile on my face. Today was some kind of small accomplishment. Here's hoping for many more.
In order to more effectively prepare us for the experience we will have in Guyana, Peace Corps divided our training group into two camps- urban/coastal and remote. I was sent to the remote training site along with 11 other trainees. Throughout the weeks, our remote training group has diminshed to only 7 trainees. The rest of the 20-30 something (I've already lost count!) trainees are in a city along the coast. I'm quite content to be here- It's a small Amerindian community with a population of approximately 1,500 people, located in Region 4 of Guyana. I have a fantastic host family! I live with my host mom, Anita, my host dad, Linden, my host brother, Kimmon (16), and host nephew, Robern (7). Unlike the other shy and reserved women in the village, Anita is confident, out-spoken, and full of life and positive energy. Linden is a miner and travels into the hinterland regions for work, so I haven't seen much of him, but I do know that he's an excellent conversationalist, is very attentive, and is quite the pastry chef. Kimmon received his teaching certification and now teaches at the local secondary school. He's a super smart kid, very mature for his age, and constantly listens to music on his mp3 player. Robern is a pretty cool little kid. I never knew that a 7 year old could be so self-sufficient! Lately I've been reading with him during the day or after dinner- he does great in math but seems to have fallen through the cracks in reading. I've made getting him up to speed my own little project while I'm here in the community.
I spend most of my "free" time helping Anita in the kitchen or doing daily chores, but there's always a few minutes each day to spend lounging in the hammock with a good book. Time moves slowly here but there's always so much to do! Simple chores like bathing, washing clothes, preparing meals, and tidying up take a huge chunk out of the day. On a typical day, I wake by 6:00 a.m., practice yoga outside for about half an hour, take a bucket bath, dress, and eat breakfast (usually fried plantains or a boiled egg with fresh orange juice) before heading to training sessions at 8:00 a.m. At the end of the day, I get home just in time to help Anita with dinner. I can now make four types of Guyanese bread: roti, dry bake, oil bake, and fry bake (roti is my favorite). My favorite Guyanese dishes are the curries- I can make a mean potato and eggplant curry, and pumpkin curry with roti is one of the best meals that I've ever had. Oh, and the chickpeas (which the Guyanese call channa) are delicious anytime of the day- I particularly enjoy them for Sunday brunch :) There's also no shortage of fresh fruits here- pineapples, mangoes, paw-paw (papaya), bananas, oranges, coconuts, and passion fruit are a few of the things you can literally find just lying around. We have orange and coconut trees in our own backyard. In case anyone was wondering, grating coconut is not for the faint of heart- it's quite the workout!
Our training sessions have been going well. Today I gave my first health talk at the local health post and was very pleased with how things went. The talk was on family planning (my favorite health topic) and the birth control methods available to the community. We had an audience of about 15 secondary school students and a few young adults. I never thought that after only 3 weeks in country I'd be standing in front of a group of Amerindian teenagers talking about pregancy prevention and how to effectively use condoms, considering that Amerindian communities are known to be extremely conservative and that the schools have no existing sex education curriculum, so I'm ecstatic that the topic went over so well! The community health workers have requested that our health trainees present further talks on the topics of HIV/AIDS, other STIs, and drug and alcohol abuse. I finally feel like I'm actually doing something here, which is a wonderful (and much needed) feeling.
As I was walking home this afternoon, I was approached by a woman in the community who had heard through the grapevine (which is quite extensive around these parts) that I needed a pair of slippers to wear around the house. I had never met her before, but she came running out of the house when she saw me passing by, measuring tape in hand, and quickly introduced herself before she proceeded to lean down and measure my dirty feet. She asked me if I prefered any particular pattern and if I needed them by any specific time, to which I answered no to both questions. She replied that she already had the fabric picked out for me and that I would have the slippers by tomorrow. This must be how celebrities feel during the award's season. I continued to walk home with a grin on my face and an added hop in my step when I heard a little voice call out my name in a half-giggle, half-shrill of excitement. I looked up to see the bright, pretty face of a little 4 year old girl who lives down the street. I smiled, waved back, and walked away with a warmed heart, tears in my eyes, and an even bigger smile on my face. Today was some kind of small accomplishment. Here's hoping for many more.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
sick day
I've been in Guyana since Tuesday morning and have already had to take a sick day. It was really nothing, but Peace Corps apparently takes a lot of precautions when it comes to keeping their volunteers healthy. The group left out yesterday afternoon to meet their host families at the training sites, but my vomitting self didn't make the bus. I'm totally fine now, and probably would've been alright had I gone ahead with the rest of the group, but PC thought it best to keep me and two other sick trainees around in Georgetown for a few days. I feel great today! I think my body is just having a little difficulty adjusting to a new diet- I've been eating a lot of sugar, probably some MSG (they put it in everything here), and I'm pretty sure that dairy has been sneaking its way into my tummy.
The sick days haven't turned out to be so bad. We weren't allowed to leave the hotel during our first week in Georgetown, so we were all going a bit crazy and were anxious to see what Guyana is all about. One of the current PCVs is still in town and has been taking us sick ones out and about the city. We ate lunch this afternoon at JR's- a little burger joint that has VEGGIE BURGERS! and french fries :) There's also a Mediterranean restuarant in these parts that has hummus and tabouleh. I'll probably head that way in a bit for dinner. We also peeked into a video store that sells pirated DVDs from the States. I got my hands on copies of Black Swan, The Kids are All Right, Winter's Bone, and Rabbit Hole. It should be easy to keep myself entertained around here.
I'll be heading off my training site on Monday morning to meet my host family and to reunite with the other trainees. It looks like it'll be a month or so before we come back to Georgetown, so in the meantime, please send letters to keep in touch.
Peace.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
cook-up-rice training
(*Please check my previous post for updated information regarding my mailing address.)
Day three's training sessions have come to an end here in Georgetown. So much has happened in so little time, but I'll do my best to touch on all of the highlights. When we arrived in Guyana on Tuesday morning, we were greeted by many of the current PCVs, who all looked surprisingly refreshed and energized, despite the heat and humidity. Maybe they were just excited to meet us, but I jotted it down as a sign that I won't look like such a glazed donut once I learn to take care of myself in this strange place known as the "land of many waters." So it was bit cliche, I do realize, but I immediately felt like I was in the tropics when one of the PCVs handed me a young coconut and a banana :) It was a delicious and nutritious breakfast (another good sign).
The past few days we've been in training sessions designed to orient us to our projects and prepare us for living with a Guyanese host family during our 9-weeks of PST (pre-service training). I, along with 11 other PCTs (PC Trainees), have been assigned to a remote training site in Region 4 (approximately a 1 1/2 hour drive from the capital). The rest of the 20 or so PCTs have been assigned to a coastal/"urbanish" site. We're all a little bummed that we have to be separated from the rest of the group so early, but I'm confident that there will be some advantages to having such an intimate training class. And yes, this means that I'll more likely than not be placed in a remote site for my two years of service. "Remote" can mean one of a few things- I will likely be more isolated from the coastal region and probably won't have running water, electricity, etc., but I could very well be placed in a "city" that's only considered remote due to its geographic location. I should receive my placement in a few weeks, so I'll try to keep everyone posted as I know more.
I've particularly enjoyed getting to know the current PCVs who are assisting in our trainning. They have offered incredible advice and insight! It's great to see how calm and collected they all are (another good sign), as well as how confident they are in their jobs and with their integration into their communities. It's a bit trippy to think that I will be in their shoes one year from now! But I have a lot of ground to cover in the meantime.
We passed today's morning session discussing our role as community developers in Guyana and how our work will fit in to the country's existing development strategies and goals. I am so relieved to learn that we actually have a very thorough and accessible community health care plan to follow. My first three months at site will be focused on Goal 1 objectives- assessing (alongside my counterpart) the community's needs through observation and discussions with the local people. Basically, I have to figure out what the community wants to cultivate before I know which seeds to plant. As tough as this job is going to be, I'm comforted in knowing that I won't be doing it alone (if done correctly), but rather with my entire community.
Oh, and the phrase cook-up-rice is a Guyanese phrase that refers to throwing everything all together (if I understood it correctly), as in Peace Corps has thrown a ton of information at us these past few days. I look forward to sharing more once I finally get out of this hotel and into my host community for training. It's getting a little cabin feverish around here. Well, consider this my last post for at least several weeks.
Rest assured that I'm healthy, happy, and eating plenty of channa (chickpeas, as we know them). Namaste, my friends. Be good in the land of plenty.
Day three's training sessions have come to an end here in Georgetown. So much has happened in so little time, but I'll do my best to touch on all of the highlights. When we arrived in Guyana on Tuesday morning, we were greeted by many of the current PCVs, who all looked surprisingly refreshed and energized, despite the heat and humidity. Maybe they were just excited to meet us, but I jotted it down as a sign that I won't look like such a glazed donut once I learn to take care of myself in this strange place known as the "land of many waters." So it was bit cliche, I do realize, but I immediately felt like I was in the tropics when one of the PCVs handed me a young coconut and a banana :) It was a delicious and nutritious breakfast (another good sign).
The past few days we've been in training sessions designed to orient us to our projects and prepare us for living with a Guyanese host family during our 9-weeks of PST (pre-service training). I, along with 11 other PCTs (PC Trainees), have been assigned to a remote training site in Region 4 (approximately a 1 1/2 hour drive from the capital). The rest of the 20 or so PCTs have been assigned to a coastal/"urbanish" site. We're all a little bummed that we have to be separated from the rest of the group so early, but I'm confident that there will be some advantages to having such an intimate training class. And yes, this means that I'll more likely than not be placed in a remote site for my two years of service. "Remote" can mean one of a few things- I will likely be more isolated from the coastal region and probably won't have running water, electricity, etc., but I could very well be placed in a "city" that's only considered remote due to its geographic location. I should receive my placement in a few weeks, so I'll try to keep everyone posted as I know more.
I've particularly enjoyed getting to know the current PCVs who are assisting in our trainning. They have offered incredible advice and insight! It's great to see how calm and collected they all are (another good sign), as well as how confident they are in their jobs and with their integration into their communities. It's a bit trippy to think that I will be in their shoes one year from now! But I have a lot of ground to cover in the meantime.
We passed today's morning session discussing our role as community developers in Guyana and how our work will fit in to the country's existing development strategies and goals. I am so relieved to learn that we actually have a very thorough and accessible community health care plan to follow. My first three months at site will be focused on Goal 1 objectives- assessing (alongside my counterpart) the community's needs through observation and discussions with the local people. Basically, I have to figure out what the community wants to cultivate before I know which seeds to plant. As tough as this job is going to be, I'm comforted in knowing that I won't be doing it alone (if done correctly), but rather with my entire community.
Oh, and the phrase cook-up-rice is a Guyanese phrase that refers to throwing everything all together (if I understood it correctly), as in Peace Corps has thrown a ton of information at us these past few days. I look forward to sharing more once I finally get out of this hotel and into my host community for training. It's getting a little cabin feverish around here. Well, consider this my last post for at least several weeks.
Rest assured that I'm healthy, happy, and eating plenty of channa (chickpeas, as we know them). Namaste, my friends. Be good in the land of plenty.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
let's stay in touch
***UPDATE: Please send ALL mail and packages to this address during training (until mid-April)... Also, please send everything through regular mail, NOT FedEx. Send things in a padded envelope or flat-rate box whenever possible, and please hide anything valuable inside of something else. It takes about 2-3 weeks for mail to arrive from the States.
Peace Corps
Attn: Whitney Miley
c/o United States Embassy
100 Duke and Young Streets
Kingston, Georgetown, Guyana
South America
Hello, hello! I'm super busy preparing for my departure, so I'll keep this brief and promise to write more in the coming days. Here's a quick rundown of what's going on- I leave on Sunday for the PC Guyana staging event in Philadelphia. After an orientation and brief overview of things on Monday, we will take a bus to JFK and will fly to Georgetown late that evening, arriving in country early Tuesday morning. Ah! I can't believe that I'll be in Guyana in only 6 days!
More to come... Thanks for all of the continued encouragement, support, thoughts, and prayers.
Peace Corps
Attn: Whitney Miley
c/o United States Embassy
100 Duke and Young Streets
Kingston, Georgetown, Guyana
South America
Hello, hello! I'm super busy preparing for my departure, so I'll keep this brief and promise to write more in the coming days. Here's a quick rundown of what's going on- I leave on Sunday for the PC Guyana staging event in Philadelphia. After an orientation and brief overview of things on Monday, we will take a bus to JFK and will fly to Georgetown late that evening, arriving in country early Tuesday morning. Ah! I can't believe that I'll be in Guyana in only 6 days!
More to come... Thanks for all of the continued encouragement, support, thoughts, and prayers.
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