Some intentional puddle-jumping

One of the things that's been a blessing and a curse so far has been what I'll call CUIDADO. I don't leave the hostel for one of IGA's evening classes without a "Con cuidado, Valeria," and when a fellow teacher accompanied me to buy a cell phone, she made clear that my role in the process only required that I hold onto her arm and not speak spanish because it would give me away as a rich American, obviously. In Guatemala City, my IGA colleagues, as well as a pleading hotel staff, forbade me to take white taxis, leaving me with green and yellow taxis as my two options. The other day, after I observed a class across town here in Xela, I asked one of the other teachers his advice on the quickest route home. He offered a helpful, directive response but, faithfully, didn't leave me without a, "And if someone asks you where you're going, you just keep walking and don't answer."

Now, by no means do I intend for my sarcasm here to demean the great blessing its been to have new friends as well as strangers looking out for me, the "blonde one." (Am I a blonde?) But the curse of it all is that it's planted a seed of fear that, while probably very beneficial, sometimes annoys and even embarrasses me. Yesterday, I was speaking with one of the hostel staff members, Julio, who is around my age and works two jobs. He manages the hostel Friday, Saturday, and Sunday and runs a shop Monday through Thursday.

Me: "Julio, dónde está tu tienda?"

Julio: "En La Democracia."

In my head: Oh no. Not in La Democracia!

This reaction has been shaped by the many warnings I've had to avoid trekking though La Democracia, an extremely large outdoor street market in the city. I even remember our leaders cautioning us about this when I was here for my internship two years ago. Looks like gringos are still getting the same message. While undoubtedly well-intentioned, is this the message we should be receiving and then spitting back out?

Quite honestly, I've walked through that very market every single day on my way to IGA's second location for its high school and scholarship program classes, and it's easily one of the best parts of my day. The hodge-podge of smells, some more malodorous than others, is inexplicably interesting to me: Tamales mmm...car exhaust, cough cough...a woman's perfume, slightly familiar...dog _______, ew, hold my breath. And the people! It feels like everyone and their mom in Xela is there buying, selling, or just passing through. It feels like hard work, tired hands and feet, and hope for a better future. It feels like home.

So, back to Julio. If I were to actually share with him my initial perception of the market's reputation as a dangerous place where foreigners shouldn't dare go, I'd be slapping his 9am-7pm job #2 in the face. And this is a young man who had the courtesy to advise me on the best hours to go to the gym, should I join one, so that I might avoid trouble from guys "with attitudes." Should I walk through the market with my backpack unzipped and my purse overflowing with quetzales, Guatemala's currency? Absolutely not. Should I avoid the market like a huge puddle I'd rather not step in? I think absolutely not. I'm getting my feet wet.

New home for the month

My room in hostel Casa Doña Mercedes,

where I'll be for the next month while I

continue the apt. hunt. Note my little wall

shrine to love from America :)

The hostel's jungle-ish courtyard.

Love the colors

For the glory of Old State

While my intention for my blog is that it generally be a way for me to share about what's going on here in Central America, one of the other Guate Fulbrighters reminded me that not everything on my mind in the next 10 months will be Guate-related. And Cate, your words couldn't resonate more with me than they do in this moment. I fell asleep last night after google searching pages and pages in hopes of uncovering the truth about JoePa's condition. And if I can get a good idea of what's going on at home while I'm here in a country that dedicates 5-10 channels to soccer and .5 to American football, I imagine that all of you are well aware of the controversy over whether Joe passed away last night. I woke up well before my alarm this morning and again reached for my computer to comb through the latest news.

I remember sitting at Iron Hill with two of my F&M co-workers one afternoon just shortly after JoePa had lost his job as legendary PSU Football coach. We were sharing our thoughts, and something that Ryan said hit me in a way that surprised me because even though I agreed with him, I couldn't actually believe I was agreeing with him. He said that he thought JoePa's health would rapidly decline in the wake of the scandal, though, at this point, not too much had been publicized about his cancer. Driving home after that conversation, I realized I wanted to do something that would surely label me as my father's daughter. I wanted to write a letter to Joe. I didn't want to talk about the scandal, but instead I just wanted to say thank you to him for what he's meant to me and my family. Well, time flew by, and I didn't mail anything to Happy Valley. And now that I'm in Guate, it could take two weeks or two years for a letter to reach him, so I'm going to write right here.

Joe,

I write to you as a loving fan and member of the Penn State family. I didn't spend four years in State College as a student- that was my dad- but I spent a lot of time on campus throughout my childhood. I can't recall my first football game, but I can recall my first impression that Beaver Stadium was a special place on game day. Everyone and everything, down to the metal bleachers, felt alive, and so did I. Even after we lost my dad, who was our Penn State alum, we proudly remained a Penn State family. You'll be happy (or perhaps very humiliated) to know that we even hauled a life-size cardboard cut-out of you from our basement to our living room to its rightful place beside our TV every Saturday in the fall. You and what your program has stood for brought us together in good times and bad, whether we were huddled around the same pre-game snack feast or not. There's really nothing more to say than thank you. If F&M doesn't mind, I'm going to continue to share my love for the blue and white with a school that has brought immeasurable happiness to my past and will undoubtedly bring joy to my future. Thank you for being a huge part of that for me and for the thousands of people who hold PSU in their hearts.

I wish you peace and happiness in the same way that you've inspired it.

For the glory of Old State,

Valeri

Leaving comfortable

Tomorrow, I say goodbye to what has become a comfortable routine in a surprisingly short amount of time. As I've shared, getting to know the teachers at IGA here in the capital has been really special and indescribably helpful. And I really do mean indescribable, because even though I've come away from orientation and class observation with treasure troves of teaching notes, the most valuable thing that I'm taking with me to Xela is a feeling. It's the twinge of excitement we get when we are just beginning a journey and can envision hundreds of possible routes. It's the hunger to share and learn as a group that blesses a classroom experience. It's the satisfaction that comes with knowing you've set someone up to feel good about themselves. It's all of these things, and each one demands taking steps away from what's comfortable. So, let's hope I feel pretty uncomfortable in the next few weeks (I can assure you that this will happen) because then I'll know that I'm at least doing something right!

Today Guatemala welcomed a new president, Otto Perez Molina, here in the capital. I had a great view of the celebratory fireworks

A volcano or two in the not-so-far-off distance!

Orientation DONE!

Today was my final day of orientation, and despite the fact that it stretched on for six hours, it was a great last day. I don't think there could have been a better way to prove to me that I've made some fantastic friends than how the teachers reacted to my obvious lack of proficiency in Spanish (for now!) this morning. Unlike the other workshops, Berta conducted today's first session in Spanish. Luckily, there was a handbook to accompany her presentation, so I could read along. Still, I wasn't left on my own. Every 2 or 3 minutes it seemed, one of my colleagues would lean over and ask whether I was able to follow along and if I needed anything explained. Of course, none of them had to take the time to do that; we were all visibly tired from the week's training, and they had plenty of other things to worry about. But, they took the time to ask. Sitting there, I realized I was flanked by friends.

And to triple my happiness, Berta asked some of the other teachers to read certain parts of the handbook aloud, and I just remember being in awe of how smooth their native tongue sounded. Between their rolling r's and patient accents on particular letters, I eagerly lost myself in listening.

El Instituto Guatemalteco Americano, where I'll be for my week of orientation

First Days

Hola desde Guate! I feel so blessed to be writing from welcoming, sunny Guatemala City, the bustling capital of Guatemala. These past few days have been filled with friendly new colleagues at IGA (http://www.iga.edu/), my beloved plátanos fritos, tv hilariously dubbed in Spanish, and, of course, that totally unexpected experience that just HAS to happen on the first day of any job. After feeling good about an hour of yoga and a filling breakfast on Monday morning, I quickly descended into stress when I discovered that my shower didn't work, as in the knobs fell off when I tried to turn them. Needless to say, I had to head off to my first training session at IGA with scary hair..not good. Fortunately, no one seemed to be offended (as far as I could tell), as everyone made a wonderful effort to include me in the workshops and make me feel comfortable. And to be honest, there's no way I couldn't have felt at home, considering my very first workshop topic: The Writing Process. <3 F&M Writing Center.

I'll be here in the capital for training for the rest of the week and will head to Xela at the end of next week, where I'll be for the next 10 months. I'm a little sad that I won't be able to continue to get to know the staff here at IGA in Guate City, but if the teachers and administrators I've met so far are any indication of the kind of people I'll be working with in Xela, I'm in for one incredible teaching environment :)