Over the Hump

There was a day a couple weeks back that was so incredible, I don’t think it could ever be topped in its magnificence. I was getting ready to go to Quipambe and a little stressed out; it was our first meet. I was suddenly hit by a moment of clarity so strong that I no longer felt a part of the earth. It was like I could see everything that was happening around me, everything that would happen in my life, and was SO aware of the beauty that I make my life out to be. I literally felt high – a little overwhelming. Of course it made me cry; it was so beautiful to feel so sure and all-knowing of life and what I’m doing in it.

If only we could have those kinds of days every day. Anyway, out of that came the realization of my dream to be a professor and do ALL SORTS OF THINGS in life that just seem so perfect I can’t hardly wait to get started on the path towards doing them. I’m hoping to start online classes in January to jump ahead on some pre-requisites for the Masters of Science in Nutrition and Clinical Health Psychology (Bastyr University), or a few other Masters of Public Health – Nutrition programs I’m looking at. I’m SO excited.

But this excitement has been making it a little difficult to maintain my enthusiasm about being here. Oh, Guatemala. It is so unbelievably gorgeous yet covered with so much trash. The people are so unbelievably friendly yet plagued by fatalism and poor health/malnutrition. The work is so simple yet so far from realization, it’s almost discouraging. I’m supposed to just DO and let be done, without being so concerned with the outcome. Maybe learning how to do that will be my greatest accomplishment here.

 This morning I asked the “powers” that be for some kind of inspiration or reminder of why it is so great to be here. I was riding in a very crowded taxi on the way to El Horizonte with Virginia, a técnica at ADICTA, and her 5-(or so)-year-old daughter, Neyneli, who is always accompanying her (us) to the office and to community visits. She’s very precious. She was basically sitting on my lap because of how crowded the taxi (i.e. clown car) was. As she leaned up against me on the bumpety, washed-out dirt road I felt present and peaceful. I was happy to be there, to have relationships with Guatemalans that make me feel close with them, and to go give a charla that I was too tired to give. Well, when we got there, the meeting was nonexistent… some faulty line of communication (typical of Guatemala). This did not make me mad; I was actually excited to just sit there and relax with the lady of the house (Doña Reina) to chat about random things. When it came time to leave I waited on the road in front of her house for another clown car to come by and got to see the sun shine through the clouds and disperse its immaculate gold light. This beauty is just as extraordinary the second time around as it was the first. I’m sure it will never lose its splendor. This photo does no justice to the way it shone over the valley.

Anyway, every now and again I get glimpses of that excited “I’M A PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER!” attitude I so fervently came here with. It is a great thing that I am doing; for Guatemala but mostly for myself. I love that I’m challenged, very apparently, to better myself and to be for the people of Guatemala what I want to be for everyone, all of the time. So as I listen to all the people COSing (CloseOfService-ing) and exclaiming how great it is to finally be an RPCV, I patiently wait my turn. I look forward to the next year’s worth of lessons and successes. It can only be good, no matter how hard it seems to have a life devoid of Jamba Juice’s REVIVED Pumpkin Smash smoothie and Zeta and Sacramento fall and tile floors without rolly-pollies crawling all over them and beds without fleas and streets without failed-smog-check or burning plastic fumes.

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