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")

Candid Camera

Last Tuesday, around 2pm, I was working in my office when a muni-worker entered to tell me two guys were looking for me downstairs. "I'll be right down", I told him, and got up to start making my way down the two flights of stairs.

As I approached the two men, they both looked like they meant business. One wore a blazer with a name tag, the other a Polo shirt with dark glasses. Blazer boy turned to me and asked (in perfect English), "Are you James Staples?"
"Yes I am", I replied.
"And you work for USAID....wait...no, Peace Corps?"
"That's right." We then established that I spoke Spanish and so the conversation continued in Spanish.
"And what's your work here?" he continued.
"I work in the municipal park up the hill to conserve the forest and protect the quetzals."
"Well, James, that's why we came today."

He then went on to tell me that he came from Guatemalan immigrations and was going to have to arrest and deport me for stealing and selling the quetzals from the park I work in. "We've received various complaints from various sources, James," he told me. He then asked me to come with him to the police station because I was under arrest and faced felony charges. A police truck was parked near the park, where all of this was taking place, awaiting its new gringo passenger.

"Whoa whoa whoa," I said. "This is totally ridiculous. Who told you this? That's completely unfounded." More than anything I was confused and totally flabbergasted at these appalling accusations.

After about five minutes of back-and-forth, me confused and getting angry, and them trying to put handcuffs on me, they then accused me of making ceviches out of the quetzal eggs! At this point I started to wonder who these guys were and what their credentials were. I had a feeling something was going on, but couldn't figure it out. The exchanges continued, "Totally ridiculous!" I exclaimed. "Come with us," they replied.

After another five minutes of the same exchanges, the man in the sunglasses came up with a proposal, "Give us $200 and we'll forget all about this". I told him no way and that now he'd established that he's corrupt. "Fine, $100". I told him hell no and that we'd figure this out in the police station.

We started to walk to the police truck when the man in the blazer turned to me and said, in English, "Smile! You're on Candid Camera!" (Guatemalan version is called "La Mira Con Carino")

I laughed and was a good sport, but after I got to thinking; they threatened me with jail time, fines, and deportation. They offered to let me bribe them and have it all go away, having already established that I worked for the government of the United States of America. Really?! It all seemed a little tasteless or at least a little too bold of a joke to play on someone who didn't know they were being taped. But as far as I'm concerned, no harm, no foul.

The episode will air this Sunday at 7pm on Canal 7, which is a huge national TV station. It should air in the U.S. on DirecTV too. Channel 400 and something.