A Year in Review

My first year in Guatemala was a challenge, a reward, a life lesson, a personal lesson, a dream, at times a nightmare. It was an arrival to a new world, a jump into the unknown, a farewell to friends and family, a farewell to my comfort zone. It was a trembling at the door of my new host family, a new-found feeling like a brother to my new Guatemalan sister. It was a barking dog at 3:00am, a cawing rooster at 3:01am. It was a grit, a stench, a rawness. It was an occasional emaciated street dog on the occasional corner, a shining red and yellow chicken bus. It was a sense of belonging here, a sense of longing for home. It was an early Monday morning ride to Peace Corps headquarters, a smile from Brittany, a smile from Molly, a smile from Maria, a deep-seeded common bond with fellow PCVs. It was a volcano spewing smoke into the air half a mile away, a pizza and a beer in Antigua, a tortilla and beans (never apart) in San Antonio. It was a spider on my wall, a mouse in the corner, a flea on a dog, an amoeba in my stomach. It was a tumultuous Thursday morning when I found out my site location, a seven hour chicken bus trip to San Rafael Pie de la Cuesta for the first time, a bright green quetzal feeding its young, a first cup of sugary coffee with the mayor in his office. It was a achingly arduous adjustment, a laggingly long loneliness, three months of doubt, three months of questioning. It was a rediscovery of self, a rediscovery of purpose, a rediscovery of contentment. It was a bead of sweat in the Coban half marathon, a drop of crystal clear water at the pools of Semuc Champey, a candle-lit tour of jungle-covered caves. It was a new house in town, a new rhythm in our work at the park, a new-found excitement to be a Peace Corps volunteer in San Rafael Pie de la Cuesta. It was a Sunday soccer game in the shadows of the tallest volcano in Central America, a "G-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-L", a sense of community in an uncommon place, a sunset that washed San Rafael with a burnt orange. It was a daily greeting in the streets of town, an "Hola!", an "Adios!", a street corner to sit on, a patient watching of the world-go-by, a conversation with a Guatemalan friend, a breaking down of preconceived misconceptions, a realization of similarity between two dissimilar people. It was a smile, a wave, a nod, a handshake. It was seemingly small, but undoubtedly profound.

My first year in Guatemala has been a lot of things. I look forward to learning what the second year will be.

(Structural inspiration from John Steinbeck's opening sentence from "Cannery Row")