This is temporary: reflections on a Peace Corps service

It’s been a while since I have blogged and that’s not because there’s a shortage of things to say.  Since I last wrote,

I co-led an overnight leadership camp for 30 Guatemalan youth.

I traveled through Nicaragua and Panama with my best friend AND met up with my best mom and best sister in Costa Rica to celebrate Christmas.  I also edited and published a health curriculum with this best friend and our 500 teachers.  (We deserved a vacation!)

I hosted an event for International Women’s Day entitled “A Celebration of Women Leaders and the Men Whom Support Them”.  (By far the most enjoyable, successful, and important thing that I did as a Peace Corps Volunteer.)

I met the Second Lady, Dr. Jill Biden.

The reason I haven’t written in a while is because there have been a lot of feelings about wrapping up my Peace Corps service and they have been coming and going and changing so rapidly, that it has been hard to write them down.  

Over the past two years, my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers and I have repeated to each other, “This is temporary.”   The words were a comforting promise that whatever frustration or failure was bothering us would pass because the US government guaranteed us a ticket back home after two years of service; irritating counterparts, lousy transportation, and stray dogs were not welcome to follow us back.  “This is temporary.  This is temporary.  This is temporary.”

However, in the past few months, the thought “This is temporary” became more threatening than reassuring.  You see, there wasn’t enough time to finish the work that I wanted to do.  There wasn’t enough time to make Guatemala a better place for children or a safer place for women.  There wasn’t even enough time to properly say good-bye to the people and places I had grown to love.  

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So, my last months were incredibly busy and filled with three competing and, at times, overwhelming sentiments:

1) Sadness.  You probably could have guessed this one.  Endings are hard.  Even though I was not in love with Guatemala or my experience there, it was what I knew.  For two years, I worked hard to build a life – full of friends, a stand-in family, hobbies, a cozy house, and work.  To leave all of that life “de una vez” (all at once) was sad, to say the least.  The worst was saying good-bye to my 5-year old and 3-year old host brothers, in whose entire memory I had been around and whom had no way to conceptualize a “forever good-bye”.

2) Guilt.  It is said that one of the first things Returned Peace Corps Volunteers must do is deal with the guilt of an unfinished mission.  Just recently an article was published on why Guatemala is one of the worst places in the world to be a child.   It felt like a slap across the face for many of us who had just given everything we had for the past two years to make it a better place to be a child.

At no point in time did I think I was going to “save” Guatemala, but I thought I would feel better about my efforts.  Instead, short school days, random and frequent Guatemalan holidays, scary dogs, scarier men, and bizarre illnesses were ready to stop my efforts at every turn.  Sometimes I was able to work around those obstacles and be effective, but more often than not, those obstacles were incredibly successful in stagnating my work.

My plight over the past two years has been intertwined with that of Guatemala and Guatemalans.  So it feels like "cheating" to just up and leave, while the people I have grown close to have no choice but to remain.  How to honor my time in Guatemala, remember both the lessons I learned and the people I met, and still move forward will definitely be my biggest challenge in the months ahead.  In the words of a friend, "we can't pretend that didn't happen".  Although, that sometimes feel like an appealing option.

3)  Readiness.  Luckily, I feel so ready for my next adventure.  I squeezed every last bit of learning and opportunity out of my 26 months in Guatemala and I want to use what I have learned in my life back in the USA.  I also feel incredibly burnt out; in fact that might be an understatement.  I need to recharge; luckily, I have three months of travel in South America and a summer back home to let it all settle-in and prepare for the next challenge, whatever that may be (i.e. I need to find a job).

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I believe that “This is temporary” is the most important lesson that I learned as a Peace Corps Volunteer.  No amount of struggle or awkwardness lasts, and neither do opportunities.  If I have changed at all in the past two years (and I hope I have) it is because I have learned this lesson a million times over.  So, whatever feelings I may currently have about my time in Guatemala, I know that they, too, are temporary.

I will end by sharing the words that I wrote for my close of service “ringing of the bell”, a ceremony that Peace Corps Guatemala uses to mark the successful completion of a Peace Corps service.

The truth is that this has been the most difficult experience of my life.  However, today I feel content because I am proud of all that I have done, learned, and tried.

I am grateful for the fear, anger, and sadness that I have felt here because with these feelings, I understand more about the suffering of the world.

I am grateful for the challenges of being a woman in Guatemala, because they taught me that fighting for the rights of women is the purpose of my life.

I am grateful that my best friends in Cajolá were children because with them I learned to play and enjoy the little things in life again.

I am grateful for all of my co-workers who did not agree with my ideas because these experiences were opportunities to practice compromise.

More than anything, I am grateful for the other Volunteers.  To learn, grow, play, and work with them has been the greatest honor of my life.  For 100% certain, I would not be here without them.

Truly, I am not sure if I will return to Guatemala, but maybe I do not need to because Guatemala will always be in my heart and in the way that I live my life.

Thank you for sharing these experiences and your country with me.

All smiles after officially closing our service.

Ringing the ceremonial bell!  Yayy!

Thank you for your support and love over the past two years.  Seeing people become excited about and inspired by the same things that I was becoming excited about and inspired by was the most touching part of my service.  I am so ready to get back and would love to share all of these tales IN PERSON!  I can't wait to see you! XOXO

Kelley

A Few Things You Won't Find on My Résumé

I am starting to think about what comes after Peace Corps.  While brushing up my résumé, I've noticed that a lot of what I have learned has shaped who I am at this moment, but isn't necessarily going to be shared with a future employer.  

Here are ten things that I've learned in Guatemala that you won't find on my resume:

1. I've learned how to fix a toilet.

In fact, this is tonight's victory.

2. I've learned to be a victim.  (Actually, to be honest, this is a work in progress.)

You can prepare yourself with the most information and the best intentions, but every once in a while you fall prey to something out of your control: weather, crime, or ignorance, just to name a few.  Sometimes this stress requires me to take a nap, but I try to get out of bed the next day with as much guts and grace as I can muster, and I just put one foot in front of the other.

3.  I've learned how to spend time by myself.

My own house is a little quieter than the house I grew up in.  (Scratch that, it's a lot quieter.  Six people is a lot of people in one house.)  I've learned to eat by myself, to spend Friday nights by myself, to exercise by myself, and to work quietly by myself, just to name a few.  This definitely isn't my favorite part of the Peace Corps experience, but I'm glad to know that I can be content all by myself.

4. I've learned how to disagree.

This is true of my experience with Peace Corps Volunteers and with Guatemalans.  My 'Peace Corps World' can be very small.  The people I work with are also my best friends.  Peace Corps Volunteers come from all over the US and each Volunteer has their own set of values and reasons for being here.  We don't always agree, but I've learned to play nice and to respect people even if I think some of their ideas are really stupid or they really irritate me some days.  

As for my work with Guatemalans, sometimes all I can do is say my piece and sit back down.  I like to think that even if I just feel like I'm banging my head against the wall, at least I make a tiny bit of noise while doing so.  I am a guest in their country and must always act as such.

5. I've learned that relationships really are the best investment.

I'm lucky to be part of a group of Peace Corps Volunteers that is absolutely the best support system a girl could ask for.  The investments I have made in friendship (via lengthy telephone calls, long bus rides to visit friends, and shared care packages) have seen unbelievable returns.  I would not still be here if it weren't for all of the wonderful people I have met.  They have saved me time and time again.  

This is the lesson that I feel most certain I must bring back to my life in the U.S. of A.  A career and the "real world" will certainly take it's toll, but I know that I must continue to invest in friendships because... well... they're the best.

6. I've learned how to say "Go F*** Your Mother" in Spanish.

Unfortunately, there are people in the world who deserve to hear it.  Every once in a while, for the sake of self-preservation, you have to stop making excuses for other people and admit to yourself that maybe there are jerks in the world and there probably is nothing you can do about it.  I thought that two years in the developing world would make me a softer, more patient person and while this is true in many ways, I've also learned to stand-up for myself.  

7. I've remembered how much I love reading.

Maybe it's a result of all of that alone time, but I have really fallen in love with reading again.  I've always liked reading, but before coming here it had been a while since I was totally transported by a good book.  Every once in a while, I really don't want to be in Guatemala and there is no better way to escape than a good book.  I don't think I have loved reading this much since staying up all night to finish The Little House on the Prairie.  

8.  I've developed a whole new appreciation for electricity.

... And it really sucks when you don't have it.  Especially if you happen to be hosting a Christmas party.  Candle-lit dinners lose their charm real fast.

9.  I've learned that I really love Latin Pop.

Because, of course.  Exhibit A: The better, Spanish version of Enrique Iglesias' Bailando.

As always, thank you to everyone who has learned these lessons alongside me or has been incredibly patient while I have been learning these lessons.

Thank You, Nana

I don’t really get homesick anymore.  To be sure, I miss the people I love, Chipotle burrito bowls, and tap water that you can drink.  However, now I have a home here.  I have a house I take care of, a job I love, and friends I see on the weekends.   I feel “normal” here.  I am sure my normal is quite different from yours, but nonetheless I have a normal.

Still, some days every bone in my body yearns towards Massachusetts.  Today is one of those days, as my family is on the cusp of loosing our matriarch, my Nana Anna.  I want to be at her house on Felch Road celebrating the 4^th of July as we did for so long.  Or at her summer home in Plymouth where for many years of my childhood we faithfully made the pilgrimage to Plymouth Rock, despite the fact that it is probably the lamest national monument of all time, in any country.

Being tossed into a world – Guatemala – so different from my own has given me time to reflect on so many cultural norms that I took for granted in the United States.  Most frequently, I find myself thinking about family.  Not a day goes by without somebody asking me about my marital status.  A few times, they have skipped over that and just asked, “Where are your children?”  because it is unfathomable that a 23-year-old woman wouldn’t have any.

Part of the role of a Peace Corps Volunteer is to explain American culture to Guatemalans.  So I (nearly always futilely) explain that I want to have a career and travel and have a house before I have children.  I have spent a long time thinking about why I want these things and I think I know the answer: my mom.  The ten years she took between college graduation and childbearing have made me who I am.  She traveled to Mexico, took time to fall in love, and worked hard at becoming a professional. 

I am who I am because she did that.  Growing-up I had a wonderful example of a worldly, intelligent, hard-working mother.  She didn’t have to tell me to be those things because she was those things and I wanted (want) to be just like her.   There are lots of equally valid routes to becoming a great mom, but I plan on taking the one my mother did.   The time she took to find and become herself is the greatest gift she has given me and because of her example, I am sure that I want to give the same gift to my children.

However, my mom isn’t alone.  In fact, she is one of five children and each is spunky and independent in their own way.  Each of her siblings has walked a unique and admirable path.  How did they get this way?  Well it seems to me that the answer to that question is their mom, my Nana Anna.

You see, Nana herself was a driven and independent woman.  She was widowed at a young age and was forced to raise five children at a time when few women worked outside the house.  Life wasn’t perfect for her, but she was able to provide for her family with her work at the Town Hall, a place where she earned a lot of respect.  She was involved in town politics and, in her younger years, liked to sharpen her brain by knowing baseball statistics.  She was never too old to learn and she never failed to surprise.  Just two months ago, despite her frailness, she danced the night away at my cousin’s wedding with moves that only a grandmother could pull-off.

She was also a woman before her time in her understanding the importance of adventure.  When my dad announced he had taken a new job in Canada, the rest of the family (including myself) was devastated that the job was taking him away from MA, the only home we had ever known.  She saw what an opportunity this was for my dad and the entire family, so she congratulated him genuinely as the rest of us cried.

I remember calling her to tell her that I was coming down to Guatemala.  Her response was “I didn’t realize you were such a wild child.  All of my grandchildren are.  What did your mothers do to you?”

Our mothers did for us what she did for them – provided an example of a hard-working, intelligent woman unfettered by what the rest of the world expected from them. 

As my nana, Anna Dunn, prepares to leave us, the next generation of Dunn (NOT dumb) woman is coming into their own at school, at work, and even in motherhood.  I am proud to be a part of this sisterhood of women carving their own path and I am so thankful to Nana for starting it all.  Many of us were not fortunate enough to inherit her height, but, in each of my cousins, I can see a little bit of her strength.

Thank you, Nana.

The Unsung Heros

Recently, I listened to a beautiful and inspiring TED Talk by Karima Bennoune, titled "The Side of Terrorism That Doesn't Make Headlines".  (You can listen to it here).  The talk discusses the importance and heroics of the everyday acts of defiance that Muslims make against radical Islam.  She talks about the bravery of professors who continue to teach and students who continue to learn despite threats on their life.  She wisely notes that it is these people who need our support and our attention and who will eventually be responsible for the downfall of Islamic radicalism.  I will not pretend to understand the politics of the Middle East or make policy recommendations, but I will say that my experience in Guatemala has lead me to believe that education is always the answer and that change initiated by a people themselves is the only type of sustainable change that exists.

I listen to a lot of TED Talks and podcasts in a desperate attempt to maintain some connection to what is happening outside of my small village.   However, this one really stuck with me and I couldn't figure out quite why; all day I couldn't shake the feeling that her talk was the most relevant and important thing I had heard in a while.  Then, finally, it dawned on me.  The acts of heroism she mentions aren't so different than many of the acts of frequent, but certainly not ordinary, bravery that I see here in Guatemala.

No, there is no radical Islam in Guatemala, but there are plenty of other radical and oppressive notions - generally grouped under the title of "machismo".  Machismo is defined simply as, "strong or aggressive masculine pride", but I think is better described as "radical male privilege".  Machismo is part of life every day for every woman in Guatemala, including myself, and it has very real manifestations, ranging from: co-workers ignoring recommendations from women, to men hanging out their car to slap your ass as they drive by, to quite whispers of the word "puta" as you enter a room, and all the way to femicide.

In a culture that judges women by their ability to marry and have children, it would serve women well to acquiesce to the premise that women are created solely to serve men.  Frequently, due to either lack of empowerment or even awareness that there is another way to be treated, women do accept their role as second-rate members of society.  However, I have also seen amazing women break this mold and I have seen them be supported by inspiring men.

There are many college-educated women I have met who escaped homes of alcohol abuse and family violence.  The husbands of these women often endure jabs from friends and family who believe a woman's place is in the home  There are people all over the country who have lost the majority of their family in the genocide, but still find a way to continue and remain committed to their indigenous heritage.  There are young girls who sit at the front of the class and raise their hand with the right answer even when they know the result will be snickers from the boys in the back row.  There are women who can not read or write, but who manage the purse strings for their family.

I am still here today, a year and a half into my service, because I am proud to be a part of this union of women and men who wake-up everyday with a commitment to lead their best lives in the hope that future Guatemalans will have it a little bit easier.  It's overwhelming to think about the the systematic corruption, epidemic malnutrition, or rampant inequality that plagues Guatemala.  That existed long before I got here and will continue to exist long after I leave.  However, if enough of us commit to these everyday acts of defiance that Bennoune mentions, maybe it will be enough to turn the tides in Guatemala.

I recently spoke to a Christian missionary about the many different types of development work and development workers.  What we concluded during our conversation was that people have to stop telling other people how to act and just show them.  Guatemalan women have showed me time and time again the importance of just going on with your day after a man yells everything he can think of in order to make you feel worthless.  That in itself is an act of courage.

Big policy changes, announcements, and initiatives are important but I hope that I never forget that everyday so many unsung heros contribute silent defiance against oppressive ideologies and that makes a real difference.

WHAT WE CAN ALL LEARN FROM LAGUNA CHICABAL

I'm so proud to be featured as a guest blogger on my great friend, Lindsay McNamara's blog.  She is working hard stateside to make this world a better place and I am always excited when our paths cross.

Here's the link to her blog to check out my most recent post: http://lindsaymcnamara.com/2014/07/02/guest-blog-what-we-can-all-learn-from-laguna-chicabal/

I hope everyone's summer is off to a great start!

Immigration Through My Eyes

I’ve been in Guatemala for about a year and a half now.  Yet, I still don’t know what it’s like to be Guatemalan.  I know only what it’s like to be a white girl in a small indigenous village.  I could live here my whole life and I would still never be able to tell you how it is to be Guatemalan.

Still, my perspective has changed.  I’m not the same person who left the States 18 months ago.  The following quote has decorated my desktop for sometime because it rings so true:

“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart will always be elsewhere.  That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place.”

-Miriam Adeney

I will never be completely home again not only because I will miss those whom I have come to love so dearly here in Guatemala, but because my perspective has changed.   I spent the first 21-years of my life in lily-white suburbia, but have now created a home and a life in Latin America.  My views on many issues will never again be seen through the simple lens of my own upbringing.

That’s because I care about Guatemala.  I don’t always like it, but I always care about it.  So, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the heart-wrenching news of child immigrants, crossing the border without parents, was not only important to me, but also headline news in America.  Though I may not completely understand either side’s view, my US Citizenship and time in Guatemala has given me a unique perspective on this issue.  Unfortunately, it hasn’t given me any answers, but I thought it would be worthwhile to share with you my thoughts.

Parents in Guatemala want the best for their children, just like parents in the United States.  So, what a twisted world it is when a parent believes their child is better off without them in a foreign country than she is at home.  I don’t think I could ever bring myself to make this same decision, but I am also certain that I would never raise my child in Guatemala, particularly a daughter.  So, my unanswerable question is, “After seeing the realities of childhood in Guatemala, how can I blame parents for looking out for their children the best way they know how?”

Unfortunately, this is the best way many parents know how to take care of their children.  One of the earliest and most disturbing things I learned about Guatemala is that success here is defined by going to America.  When you ask children what they want to do when they get older, it is not unusual to hear them say they want to go to America.  It is much more unusual to hear that they want to move to the city to get a job, or be a doctor, or continue their education past high school.  It’s as if the whole country has given up on itself.  The only way they see to provide for their family and make something of themselves is to leave Guatemala.

The widespread desire to immigrate to the US, either legally or illegally, exists despite the well-known danger of the journey.  It’s not unusual for a Guatemalan to leave for the States and never be heard from again.  It is a hazardous trip, but one many feel they must make in order to make their life count. 

Those who do make it to the States send back money, which essentially supports the Guatemalan economy.  They stay for as long as they can, because, if they are illegal, once they leave they must make the very perilous journey again if they wish to go back to the US.  For this reason, there are many father-less families in my small village, even teenagers who have never met their father because he has been in the US their whole life.

To make matters worse for Guatemala, the US makes it a priority to send back the illegal immigrant criminals.  Gang members and drug lords return to a country with low literacy rates, ineffective law enforcement, high unemployment, and many father-less children.  I understand that the US can not be the world’s policeman and the world’s warden, but by sending the worst criminals back to unstable countries while keeping many of the same country’s most hard-working and educated citizens, we are truly preventing any nation from “developing”.  (If you know English in Guatemala, chances are that you are fairly well educated.)

Like I said, living in Guatemala hasn’t provided any answers.  If anything, it’s made the whole debate about what the US should be doing right now more confusing.  However, it is clear that in the long run the real way to reduce immigration is to help make Mexico and Central American countries ones that their citizens want to stay in.

It’s a dark day in Guatemala.  Last year, the country celebrated the conviction of Rios Montt, the first leader to be convicted of genocide in his own country.  However, the ruling was quickly overturned for procedural reasons.  This May, the Guatemalan Congress passed a resolution denying the occurrence of genocide in their country.  These events weigh heavily on a country still recovering from a 36-year-long civil war.  The cruelty of the war, which ended in 1996, left a legacy of violence, directly contributing to many of the country’s current problems.

Sex slavery, drug routes, rape culture, murder with impunity, inadequate educational institutions, and the inequitable fruit and coffee industries are just some of the reasons I would not want my children to live in Guatemala.  All of these things have worsened over the past few years in a country that is only a three-hour flight from Miami.  Those of us in Guatemala are not surprised to see people leaving in increasing numbers and if more Americans knew what was happening here, they wouldn’t be surprised either.

Yet, the US can not play babysitter to thousands and thousands of parent-less immigrant children.

So, as we search for solutions, I ask only that you learn about why people are making what has to be one of the toughest decisions of their life – sending their children on a dangerous journey to a different country.  Secondly, consider how immigration policy in the US affects these Latin American countries.  In the end, their problems are truly our problems because their citizens will continue to risk everything to leave until there is opportunity at home.

Expectations vs. Reality

Hello All!

I have now been in Guatemala for a whole year!!  (WOW, where did that year go?)  I have one year left and it's interesting to see how the reality of Peace Corps has already been so different from my expectations.  Here's a look back at what I've learned so far!

Expectation: Spanish was going to be impossible to learn.
Reality: It's rough to learn a new language and sometimes it's really frustrating to feel like my personality still doesn't show through while speaking in Spanish, but I have definitely "learned Spanish" and the fact that it is my second language no longer really affects my work.  I have actually grown to really love the language and I hope that future jobs allow me to use and continually improve my Spanish skills.  It's a really neat feeling to realize that your vocabulary has expanded without really studying - just speaking and listening to Spanish on a daily basis.  I guess when you need Spanish to eat and work and make friends, your brain just gets to work.

Expectation: I would be camping for two years.
Reality: I live in a house complete with a full kitchen, an "activity room", and even a dog.  While I usually spend a few nights a week without electricity and/or water, my life is pretty comfortable.  I can get internet access using a USB I can get to the second biggest city in Guatemala in just about an hour.  To be sure, I miss certain comforts from home - like washing machines, dishwashers, and cars - but I love my little village of Cajolá and I am comfortable here.

Expectation: I would be constantly battling bizarre illnesses.
Reality: To be sure, there are some nasty bugs you can pick-up here and I've caught my fair share of them, but it usually passes quickly.  My least favorite illness so far has certainly been the fleas, which seem to plague me.  Let's hope this good fortune continues.

Expectation: I would have a hard time keeping busy.
Reality: There is way too much work to do!  My days are full and (generally) happy!  While the work description was initially quite vague, I now have more ideas for the work than I know what to do with.  My official counterpart, the superintendent of my schools, is very "machismo" and difficult to work with, so I have identified health center staff, principals, and teachers who are much more rewarding to work with and who have many ideas of their own.

Expectation: All of my work would be in my village.
Reality: While most of my work is certainly right here in my village, there is a lot of interesting work that many volunteers do for the Peace Corps organization.  For example, I worked on creating a Peer Education manual that volunteers and Guatemalans alike can use to implement Peer Education programs in their schools.  One of my favorite Peace Corps tasks was working on the monitoring, reporting, and evaluation team.  We wrote "data sheets" for new project objectives, created tools to help volunteers with the MRE process, and then helped our peers to report on their progress using Peace Corps' official Volunteer Reporting Form.

In the end, my life is different than I imagined and I am also happier than I ever imagined I could be in Peace Corps.  I have an amazing network of Peace Corps friends and Guatemalans with whom I can commiserate on the bad days and celebrate with on the better ones!  It is the people I have met who have truly made my service what it is.  I already dread the day I have to say good-bye to them.

Well, one year down and one to go!  Thanks for reading!!