We rolled into the church this morning to sort 2 big bags of prescription drugs that had been donated. I at least figured that it couldn't be that hard to decipher the different medicines, put them into piles, and call it a day. Boy was I wrong.
Only a handful of medicines were packaged together; the rest were loose in what turned into a bottomless garbage bag. Things went downhill from there. Most of the medicines were for Central America and weren't anything we recognized. We set up three tables and started to figure out the differences between antibacterial and anti-inflammatory medicines and the like.
The best part was that all of the medicines clearly say, in English, what compound is the active ingredient in the drug. When I say we recognized 5% of the English words used on those medicines, I'm not exaggerating. We had to pull out my computer and type all these different "xaxozolantines" and "citiflavins" and whatnot into wikipedia to figure out what types of medicine we had.
We have a bunch more to do tomorrow, but it's supposed to rain till Monday so we won't be missing anything. We wanted to go snorkeling in the Caribbean this weekend, but it's raining there too . . . readers interested in preserving our sanity should reply with movie recommendations!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sweat and Boxers, but not Sweaty Boxers!
Today Jim and I helped out the church by sorting clothes the mission teams had brought with them. It was intriguing to see what exactly people considered worthwhile to pass along to those who are not quite as fortunate. Some of the clothes were very nice and definitely worth donating. Others left Jim and I slightly puzzled.....
-The men´s boxers, waist size 38-40..... Plenty of guys in the States can wear those, but most Guatemalan men are smaller than I am. Two of me fit in anything with a waist size of 38-40!
-Stained socks. People seem to abhor wearing socks with stains on them. But apparently they are good enough for the people down here. The stains looked like wine stains too.
-Women´s undergarments.................
-Unwashed garments, some of which were still wet with sweat. We figured these were some of the clothes the mission trip participates wore while working. Then they decided to leave them behind. The one´s that were wet and pulled inside out were the worst......
-The men´s boxers, waist size 38-40..... Plenty of guys in the States can wear those, but most Guatemalan men are smaller than I am. Two of me fit in anything with a waist size of 38-40!
-Stained socks. People seem to abhor wearing socks with stains on them. But apparently they are good enough for the people down here. The stains looked like wine stains too.
-Women´s undergarments.................
-Unwashed garments, some of which were still wet with sweat. We figured these were some of the clothes the mission trip participates wore while working. Then they decided to leave them behind. The one´s that were wet and pulled inside out were the worst......
Monday, September 20, 2010
No. I hate NJ.
Yesterday Jim and I moved into our new room. It was a novel idea for me to pack my bags and move to the other side of the town. It was also the only time I have ever moved. It took all of fifteen minutes to pack our bags. The tuctuc we took to our new room took less than ten minutes. It took about that same amount of time for us to unpack in our new room. Regardless of our quick move, we decided to christen our new room by watching a movie. Then we slept on the mattresses, which were new, and the pillows, which were also new. That was a big step up!
Today we went to the market and bought food for breakfast and dinner. The mom will make us dinner, but we have to provide our own breakfast and lunch. Jim loves peanut butter and jelly; I love chocolate and pancakes. We will see what happens.
While on our way to Spanish class today, a very excited gentleman confronted us and begged to tape an interview with us. He basically wanted to know our favorite songs. We had to pick songs off of his list, however, which was the youtube top 10 picks. He also didn't want us to be from the same place in the United States, so he asked me to be from NJ. "No," I said, "I hate NJ." So we settled for Washington D.C. Needless to say, this guy was not after careful or proper journalism. Apparently he was also doing an ad for Hyundai. Jim had to admit that there are many Hyundais in NY (a fact he bemoaned to me as we continued on our way).
We both prefer Beamers.
I have a soft spot for Mercedes too.
Fun with Beach Cruisers
Seth and I decided Saturday morning we needed to head of Antigua for a change of scenery. After a few hiccups, we finally found a place that rented bikes--beach cruisers to be exact.
We felt a bit retro getting on these things--they look like something and out-of-fashion old person would ride on the boardwalk in Jersey--but the seats were incredibly comfortable. We biked south for about 40 minutes up the big volcano to the town of San Juan Obispo. We threw the frisbee on the town's basketball court for a while before starting up back up the mountain. We walked our bikes uphill for 15 minutes and were about to turn around, when we ran into two native kids...
Apparently I correctly asked for an open field to for frisbee, because they both said (in Spanish) that they wanted to play frisbee too. We were able to ride down the first part of the trail, but by the time we crossed a orchard full of apricot-like fruit the trail was too faint to be passable by beach cruiser. The boys, Juan and Manuel, gave us a handful of the fruit to try--it walnut-sized, light yellow, had large seeds, and was quite sweet. Just don't ask what the name was, cause I forgot in spite of asking at least three times.
After that, we had to basically cut through a coffee field. There really wasn't a trail by this point. When we were talking later, Seth and I found that we both were thinking, "I hope this kids don't disappear cause we won't be able to find our way out.
Eventually, we arrived at a giant dirt soccer field and started hucking the disc. Either because of the altitude or the humidity, the frisbee flew significantly farther than usual. Juan, was the big surprise of the day. He is an under-sized fifteen was throwing the disc easily 100 yards. It was quite the day.
The goodbye was a little bittersweet cause the boys asked us for money to buy a kite, and when we didn't give them any, asked for the frisbee as a gift. I can't figure out exactly why, but I just didn't feel comfortable giving them money. I had this impression that they may have thought that since we were obviously tourists they should try to get something out of us. We're still trying to figure out exactly how to really touch the poor people around us.
We had to carry our bikes across a dry creek to get to the road, but after that, we barely had to pedal back down the mountain to Antigua.
We felt a bit retro getting on these things--they look like something and out-of-fashion old person would ride on the boardwalk in Jersey--but the seats were incredibly comfortable. We biked south for about 40 minutes up the big volcano to the town of San Juan Obispo. We threw the frisbee on the town's basketball court for a while before starting up back up the mountain. We walked our bikes uphill for 15 minutes and were about to turn around, when we ran into two native kids...
Apparently I correctly asked for an open field to for frisbee, because they both said (in Spanish) that they wanted to play frisbee too. We were able to ride down the first part of the trail, but by the time we crossed a orchard full of apricot-like fruit the trail was too faint to be passable by beach cruiser. The boys, Juan and Manuel, gave us a handful of the fruit to try--it walnut-sized, light yellow, had large seeds, and was quite sweet. Just don't ask what the name was, cause I forgot in spite of asking at least three times.
After that, we had to basically cut through a coffee field. There really wasn't a trail by this point. When we were talking later, Seth and I found that we both were thinking, "I hope this kids don't disappear cause we won't be able to find our way out.
Eventually, we arrived at a giant dirt soccer field and started hucking the disc. Either because of the altitude or the humidity, the frisbee flew significantly farther than usual. Juan, was the big surprise of the day. He is an under-sized fifteen was throwing the disc easily 100 yards. It was quite the day.
The goodbye was a little bittersweet cause the boys asked us for money to buy a kite, and when we didn't give them any, asked for the frisbee as a gift. I can't figure out exactly why, but I just didn't feel comfortable giving them money. I had this impression that they may have thought that since we were obviously tourists they should try to get something out of us. We're still trying to figure out exactly how to really touch the poor people around us.
We had to carry our bikes across a dry creek to get to the road, but after that, we barely had to pedal back down the mountain to Antigua.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
a not-so Beautiful Letdown
After our Switchfoot adventure, Seth and I had some real issues getting up the next morning. I am now willing to admit that 8 hours of sleep a night is addictive and sudden changes can lead to mood swings.
That said, I think my forthcoming analysis is still quite valid: tortillas are the most disappointing food in the world.
After the 15th of September parade, Seth and I booked back to the Parque Central to get some of the street food. It was drizzling and we quickly gravitated toward the tortillas, stuffed with cheese on the grills. The lady made my tortilla right in front of me, so I watched her knead the dough, and then toss it on the grill so it could brown and sizzle. It looked like a pancake on steroids--I was so excited. She flipped it three times before finally allowing me to have it. I was convinced I was in the presence of a true tortilla artist.
There was no taste. Even with all the salsa, it was straight-up bland. It was terrible. I can actually remember the last time I was this disappointed by food--it was mid-July of 2001--but I´ve promised my mother I wouldn´t rehash that one. There was nothing beautiful about this letdown--I even had to sit on a wet park bench to eat it.
On a happier note, we made our deposit today on a brighter room with newer beds with a family from church. It´s on the other side of town, but the food seems to be top notch. They invited us over for tamales tomorrow, served either with tortillas or french bread. I´ve already made my choice.
That said, I think my forthcoming analysis is still quite valid: tortillas are the most disappointing food in the world.
After the 15th of September parade, Seth and I booked back to the Parque Central to get some of the street food. It was drizzling and we quickly gravitated toward the tortillas, stuffed with cheese on the grills. The lady made my tortilla right in front of me, so I watched her knead the dough, and then toss it on the grill so it could brown and sizzle. It looked like a pancake on steroids--I was so excited. She flipped it three times before finally allowing me to have it. I was convinced I was in the presence of a true tortilla artist.
There was no taste. Even with all the salsa, it was straight-up bland. It was terrible. I can actually remember the last time I was this disappointed by food--it was mid-July of 2001--but I´ve promised my mother I wouldn´t rehash that one. There was nothing beautiful about this letdown--I even had to sit on a wet park bench to eat it.
On a happier note, we made our deposit today on a brighter room with newer beds with a family from church. It´s on the other side of town, but the food seems to be top notch. They invited us over for tamales tomorrow, served either with tortillas or french bread. I´ve already made my choice.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Volcanoes, Chicken Buses, and Parades
One Sunday afternoon I became the first person in my family to climb a volcano. Due to too much running on the cobblestone-like streets, Jim did not join me and my companions because of his aching legs. The volcano I climbed is named Picaya, and although active, it erupted in the end of May and is now fairly safe while the lava builds up. I could not climb all the way to the top of the crater because that was not safe, but I was able to look down a hole and see the orange glow of lava. The rocks rocks near the stop smoked steam from the lava underneath, and my legs began sweating when I stood in the steam.
Two days ago Jim and I found out that Switchfoot was playing in Guatemala City on Tuesday night (the 14). Tuesday was a packed day for us, with building houses in the morning and classes in the afternoon, but we decided to go anyway. Our original plan to take an airport shuttle did not work out, so we decided to take a chicken bus. Our first chicken bus ride was loud, crowed, bumpy, and nerve-racking if you watched the driver driving. This, however, is typical. We took a taxi from the bus terminal to the park, scalped tickets, and then went to eat dinner. The concert was suppose to start at 8 pm, but in true Guatemalan time, it did not actually start until 9 pm. Switchfoot did not play until 10 pm because two Guatemala bands opened the concert. Fortunately, some friends from church had agreed to give us a ride back to Antigua, so we didn't have to catch another chicken bus at midnight.
Needless to say both Jim and I were exhausted after a day working, studying, and running without a stop. Today we slept in a bit and then watched the parades celebrating Guatemala's Independence Day. The September 15 here is equivalent to July 4 back in the States. The schools in Antigua form their students into marching bands and this morning nothing could be heard except brass instruments, drums, and bells. Food vendors abounded in the park too, so Jim and I ate a lunch of tortillas, meat, avocado, and Guatemalan sauces. We also each ate a roasted potato with black beans inside.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Family Notes
Our host family is really something else. The father and mother, Cecil and Eva, don't speak any English which can be difficult, especially when Cecil is trying to share some words of wisdom.
He's a silversmith with a shop connected to our house and from what I can gather, he likes to talk about some of the failings of modern children, including, but not limited to, young Samuel, their high school age son. We are awakened many mornings by the cry of "Samuel!!" which is audible at all parts of the house. Cecil always wears a vest, which he says make him look good, and occasionally sports an SAE fraternity jacket.
Eva cooks all our meals six days a week, often hitting the kitchen before 6 to make our 7am breakfast. There are usually 5 or 6 students in total, so each meal involves a massive amount of regular food. Most meals also involve a massive amount of black beans, which Eva relishes and Seth does not. She also sells cosmetic products out of the front room, plays the guitar, and has been known to clean the kitchen while listening to Coolio.
The oldest child, Alicia, goes to medical school in Cuba and speaks very good English. She just left for another semester, so we didn't get to know her that well. She's already completed 3 years and has 3 to go, which leads to think she must have gone straight from high school into a medical program.
Samuel is the pseudo-black sheep of the family. I think he wants to be an engineer, but right now he seems to be practicing for a career as a DJ. He'll sit at the computer for hours singing along to different kinds of music, all the while insisting that he doesn't sing.
There's one more daughter whose name and age are still unclear ... it'd be kinda awkward to ask now after living there for two weeks, so we'll have to be very clever in our inquiries. She listens to music and sings most of the time, and judging by what I hear from the headphones, she might be a prime candidate to help Alanis Morissette's music go viral in Guatemala.
He's a silversmith with a shop connected to our house and from what I can gather, he likes to talk about some of the failings of modern children, including, but not limited to, young Samuel, their high school age son. We are awakened many mornings by the cry of "Samuel!!" which is audible at all parts of the house. Cecil always wears a vest, which he says make him look good, and occasionally sports an SAE fraternity jacket.
Eva cooks all our meals six days a week, often hitting the kitchen before 6 to make our 7am breakfast. There are usually 5 or 6 students in total, so each meal involves a massive amount of regular food. Most meals also involve a massive amount of black beans, which Eva relishes and Seth does not. She also sells cosmetic products out of the front room, plays the guitar, and has been known to clean the kitchen while listening to Coolio.
The oldest child, Alicia, goes to medical school in Cuba and speaks very good English. She just left for another semester, so we didn't get to know her that well. She's already completed 3 years and has 3 to go, which leads to think she must have gone straight from high school into a medical program.
Samuel is the pseudo-black sheep of the family. I think he wants to be an engineer, but right now he seems to be practicing for a career as a DJ. He'll sit at the computer for hours singing along to different kinds of music, all the while insisting that he doesn't sing.
There's one more daughter whose name and age are still unclear ... it'd be kinda awkward to ask now after living there for two weeks, so we'll have to be very clever in our inquiries. She listens to music and sings most of the time, and judging by what I hear from the headphones, she might be a prime candidate to help Alanis Morissette's music go viral in Guatemala.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
$2000 Homes with a $1,000,000 View
Today was the third morning Seth and I traveled by Izuzu Trooper to the village of Pastores, about a 15 minute drive from Antigua.
Like most of Guatemala, this area was devastated by a tropical storm in May, which washed away many houses built too close to the mountain. Many families lost everything, and our venture aims to provide new houses to the poorest of those families, none of whom can afford to pay for new housing.
Pastores is small village, known for its cowboy boots, nestled in a narrow valley. The village, which has partnered with our church and a church from Tulsa to build 12 houses, donated land in the middle of mountain cornfield. The walk up the dirt trail is next to impossible to complete without a break. Not surprisingly, the local Patores public works crew seems to have no trouble carrying up the 800 lbs. boxes with the housing materials.
The houses are a simple 15'x18' one room structure with two windows and a skylight. Unlike many prefabricated homes, these come with insulation, which in Guatemala's moderate climate, ensures the homes will always be a livable temperature. The total cost for each house is about $2000.
Each day we try to divide up the pieces of the four walls and the ceilings and try to assemble the house faster than we did the day before. Wednesday's house had four walls done by 11:30 when Seth and I left for our Spanish lessons.
However small these shed-like structures are by American standards--or white by Guatemalan standards, the view from the former cornfield is phenomenal. The valley stretches across to mountains rising only a few miles away, mountains so high their peaks are often obscured by the clouds.
Once we get our pictures uploaded, we'll try to find one that does the view justice.
Like most of Guatemala, this area was devastated by a tropical storm in May, which washed away many houses built too close to the mountain. Many families lost everything, and our venture aims to provide new houses to the poorest of those families, none of whom can afford to pay for new housing.
Pastores is small village, known for its cowboy boots, nestled in a narrow valley. The village, which has partnered with our church and a church from Tulsa to build 12 houses, donated land in the middle of mountain cornfield. The walk up the dirt trail is next to impossible to complete without a break. Not surprisingly, the local Patores public works crew seems to have no trouble carrying up the 800 lbs. boxes with the housing materials.
The houses are a simple 15'x18' one room structure with two windows and a skylight. Unlike many prefabricated homes, these come with insulation, which in Guatemala's moderate climate, ensures the homes will always be a livable temperature. The total cost for each house is about $2000.
Each day we try to divide up the pieces of the four walls and the ceilings and try to assemble the house faster than we did the day before. Wednesday's house had four walls done by 11:30 when Seth and I left for our Spanish lessons.
However small these shed-like structures are by American standards--or white by Guatemalan standards, the view from the former cornfield is phenomenal. The valley stretches across to mountains rising only a few miles away, mountains so high their peaks are often obscured by the clouds.
Once we get our pictures uploaded, we'll try to find one that does the view justice.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Catching Sleep and BANG!
Last night marked the one week anniversary of Jim and I living in Antigua. We were walking home in the dark last night as Jim pointed this out to me, and I very optimistically pointed out that it was raining, just like it was when we arrived in Antigua.
Our grand plans to go to Lake Atitlan were crushed this morning because of the rain. Although no streets in Antigua were flooded, the street to get to the lake was and there was a danger of walls falling on people. Apparently that happens here. Unfortunately, we didn't know about the cancellation until we met our driver, so we still got up at 4:40 am. After standing in the rain for 15 minutes, we got to come back home and crawl into our beds-which were still warm-and grab another 4 hours sleep.
Just as we were getting up for the second time, a bunch of firecrackers went off. These routinely go off to celebrate events, such as birthdays. This particular bunch was extra long and loud, and when it finally stopped, at least three car alarms began blaring. Jim's comment, "This is a developing country; there shouldn't be car alarms here!"
Our grand plans to go to Lake Atitlan were crushed this morning because of the rain. Although no streets in Antigua were flooded, the street to get to the lake was and there was a danger of walls falling on people. Apparently that happens here. Unfortunately, we didn't know about the cancellation until we met our driver, so we still got up at 4:40 am. After standing in the rain for 15 minutes, we got to come back home and crawl into our beds-which were still warm-and grab another 4 hours sleep.
Just as we were getting up for the second time, a bunch of firecrackers went off. These routinely go off to celebrate events, such as birthdays. This particular bunch was extra long and loud, and when it finally stopped, at least three car alarms began blaring. Jim's comment, "This is a developing country; there shouldn't be car alarms here!"
Friday, September 3, 2010
La Lluvia
Today it's raining in Antigua, "lluvia" in Spanish. Big surprise. Winter here, the rainy season, lasts until October 20th, when apparently the sun comes out in full force and we'll have to routinely coat ourselves with some of our sweet 100SPF sunscreen. Until then we are stuck with rainy afternoons and occasionally rainy mornings like today.
We were soaking wet by the time we walked the 5 blocks from our house to the cafe that is run by a local mission. We were going to meet with one of the missionaries, Steve Otto, to help him sort some pictures. Steve is the coordinator for La Iglesia del Camino's short term mission teams from the States and he is generously finding some ways for us to serve. http://iglesiadelcaminogt.com/english/index.html
We're going to pick out the best short term team photos for future use.
Next week, we're going to work with a short term team from Tulsa every morning putting together prefabricated metal houses for some of the most destitute tropical storm Agatha victims in the nearby village of Pastores. There are 12 to complete and Steve is optimistic that two extra pair of hands will make a big difference--as long as it doesn't keep raining all the time.
We were soaking wet by the time we walked the 5 blocks from our house to the cafe that is run by a local mission. We were going to meet with one of the missionaries, Steve Otto, to help him sort some pictures. Steve is the coordinator for La Iglesia del Camino's short term mission teams from the States and he is generously finding some ways for us to serve. http://iglesiadelcaminogt.com/english/index.html
We're going to pick out the best short term team photos for future use.
Next week, we're going to work with a short term team from Tulsa every morning putting together prefabricated metal houses for some of the most destitute tropical storm Agatha victims in the nearby village of Pastores. There are 12 to complete and Steve is optimistic that two extra pair of hands will make a big difference--as long as it doesn't keep raining all the time.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Running in the Rain
Yesterday I used my superior persuasive skills to convince Seth to run interval sprints with me in the pouring rain--15 seconds full speed, 45 seconds rest, 18 reps.
The "historic" coble stone streets in Antigua are an nightmare for running, so we just ran on the 150yd section of paved sidewalk we found. We were both wheezing by the time we finished and we kinda embarrassed until our ears started popping.
Turns out Antigua is 5029ft above sea level and so they're less oxygen in the air (I think that's how it works)
A Guatemalan runner stopped to say hi and managed to communicate in some form of Spanglish that there is 21k run here in Antigua in September.
I'm game, but I think Seth just wants to coach.
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