Guatemalan Matt: My Peace Corps Experience: Getting There

My alarm went off at 5:30, but it was another ten minutes before I crawled out of bed. I rushed to feed the dog, cover up in my rain gear and hurry to catch the first bus leaving from town to the village of Palqui, where I would spend my day working. Sprinting through the cold and early morning mist with my friend Adrianna, I couldn’t help but think how miserable it felt to be moving my body so quickly before the sun was even up. We got to the microbus to find that its 15 seats were already occupied by at least 25 people and the only space available to us would be among the crates of fruit and bags of corn bouncing around the roof of the van. Sitting on top of the van as it lurched from one pot hole to the next on the dirt road I again found myself sulking in self-pity at such an early and miserable commute to work.

Somewhere during the 45 minute bus ride from town to the road where we would begin the hour plus hike to Palqui I started thinking about how much my life will be changing in 25 days when I finished my work here in Guatemala. Thinking of the traffic, subways and busy streets I have been avoiding for the past two years, my commute to work began to look a little sweeter. The view from the top of the bus is pretty incredible once you get over the fear you encounter contemplating your options as you get closer and closer to the edge of the cliff with every turn thinking, “If we do go off the cliff I can probably jump towards the road and avoid the bus rolling after me, or maybe if I jump straight up the bus will roll out from under me and I’ll be safe and sound sliding down the hill ten feet above it.” But somewhere during that decision process you begin to relax and notice the beauty and tranquility; the mountain tops hiding in the thick clouds before the sun comes up, people far below washing in the river, cows roaming the mountain sides, children hauling firewood.

After getting off the bus and thanking God we made it alive, Adrianna and I have an hour to hike before arriving in Palqui where we visit Johvita and her family for breakfast and some laughs, mostly at our expense. From here Adrianna and I split up, her with Johvita and me with Cristobal, her husband, to visit the 43 families in the village and check up on their new rain-water catchment systems. Again we are walking, this time from one house to the next until everyone has been seen about 3-4 hours later. Even though we are walking through one community, we pass through a multitude of landscapes; rich forests like the ones back home, high mountains with cold sparse air, dry hills covered in rocks and cacti, fields of mud, tropical expanses with banana, mango, palm and papaya trees, at one point there is even a bamboo forest, over and under fences, across rivers, one very long cable bridge and lots and lots of corn. But what is even more fascinating are the people. Old and young are all working much harder than I have ever had to but they always take the time to welcome you to their home and offer you the fruit from their trees and food from their kitchens, which their families and children could benefit from much more than I. Everyone wants you to sit and talk and eat and enjoy their company. And you do. And you always realize, as if for the first time, that it is not the work you do that you will remember, but the journey you took to get there. Cliché but true.

I can't help but think I will miss the adventure of my everyday life here in Guatemala. Earthquakes, tarantulas, death-fearing transport...every single time you get in a vehicle, cockroaches, rain so loud you have to wear ear-plugs to read, flooding, burning trash, street dogs, pigs running around everywhere, Spanish, K'iche, Uspantecco, Ixil, K'achiquel (the five languages spoken in the region), moths the size of birds, road blocks, lines, thunder, sporadic electricity, cold water, dirty clothes, doing laundry by hand, beans for every meal and so much more make this life exciting and unique and I am sure that I will miss it.