Central American Ruminations, My Drop in the Bucket
And so I have returned to my site after a wonderful trip to Nicaragua, reminiscing about all that fun in the sun with a couple of outstanding human beings. And I could write about all the hilarious stuff that happened, a person waking up in the middle of the night and putting on my jeans would be a good place to start, even funnier, someone I know kissing a Nicaraguan teenager (surely that mildly romantic interlude was and will forever be the highlight of that boy’s life), the most memorable gift exchange ever, wait youthful reader there is so much more! But no, the conversation forever ingrained in my skull is one I had on a beach with a Canadian girl in San Juan del Sur. So this chick and I exchange pleasantries and she immediately, as most Westerners do, wants to know why four Americans live in Guatemala. She also wants to know if Guatemala is North or South of here. Answer, North and we work for the Peace Corps. Brief but memorable Canadian reply, oh, y’all are idealists. Then I sort of space out and don’t say anything for about 20 minutes. Sadly, if I had found this lady more attractive, I would’ve been more talkative.Peace Corps is for the globetrotting idealist? Sure, maybe. But is it not more likely that this job is for the consummate pragmatist? Is this job not for people who consciously cling to a strong sense of realism, people who realize America is more like a resort than an island? These are the same exceptional individuals who want to scream in the middle of an American grocery store (instantly after realizing that grocery stories in the States are nothing but glorious sanctuaries of infinite choices), Attention American public. . . y’all are lucky!
I think about being here over 8 months and how this country, this work, these people have changed me and of course, some ways are subtler than others. A hard boiled egg and seven tortillas is not disappointing-- it’s lunch. Recycling a couple pages from an old Newsweek for toilet paper is never gross—though it is resourceful. Saying to a guy I work with, Felipe, not only are there rivers in the U.S., there are also trees (since he asked), is under no circumstances stupid—but it is enlightening. I will also remember that before giving a complicated Christmas gift to co-workers, a pie for example. One must explain what a pie is because; no Juan you cannot put that tasty thing in your backpack before jumping on the camioneta for an hour. Yes Juan, those pies are bit delicados. And if someone, who will remain anonymous, were to take a dump in their own backyard because they had no water in their house and there was no way they were making it to their office to use the baño in time. . . right again, ladies and gentleman, merely a classic example of quick thinking.
And so when I’m old and hopefully not too senile I’ll still remember I lived and worked in a Mayan village for two years. I’ll remember that I felt like I was walking around in a National Geographic magazine, but that magazine was actually my life, something I can peruse whenever or wherever I want. And while I’m riding this train of optimism-- with any luck, pink chewable tablets will no longer be a part of this guy’s vida. Regardless, I know I will still be searching for a place that surpasses the beauty of the Western Highlands of Guatemala. Currently, I have the most stunning cubicle the world! And for those silly folks back in the motherland who disparage the Peace Corps as silly and pointless, shame on you kids. Case in point, Taylor, it’s just a drop in the bucket, so what, an uncouth young adult might be telling me. And, as a practical person, I’m thinking, who does this ignoramus think he is? Since when were buckets of water not made up of a bunch of drops?
By Taylor Dibbert
(One of my best buds in Guatemala)
posted by Carin Robinson @ 10:38 AM
