arrowwhiskers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
arrowwhiskers) wrote2010-05-04 12:12 am
arrowwhiskers) wrote2010-05-04 12:12 am
Déjame Entrar
So I'm back from Guatemala--it's been about 24 hours; a little less. I can't shake this feeling of strangeness, like things were somehow right before and now they're a bit...crooked. I open my mouth in public settings and Spanish wants to escape. "Bad traffic" suddenly seems perfectly reasonable. The cleanliness of everything, the organization, the straight lines...it's all a bit much at the moment. Intellectually, I know that I'm going through reverse culture shock and that it will fade, but at the moment everything just kind of feels...wrong. Not sharply painful, not gut-wrenchingly sad, I just feel...really out of place, and I honestly don't like it at all. :\ I don't just miss Guatemala...I miss my friends, I miss my school, I miss the ritmo, the rumbo, the understanding that you get when you start to feel the heart of a place, and share that understanding with many other people. I know that I'll get over it, but at the moment...meh.
On the other hand, many parts of the Boston area are experiencing a major water emergency due to a broken water main, and the emergency water supply is unpurified and nonpotable. So all the things I was accustomed to doing in Guate (being really careful while showering, not brushing teeth in tap water, not trusting the safety of salads...) still apply here. Except at the same time, it's almost MORE skeevy here, because people in Guatemala are used to being careful about washing vegetables and disinfecting food, while people here aren't. I'm not sure I necessarily trust veggies in Arlington right now o.O; Especially because, if I managed to get through an entire semester in Guatemala without contracting intestinal parasites, I would be really, really sad if I ended up getting them here. :( Luckily, however, Cambridge doesn't seem to be affected by this problem. Does anybody want to get lunch in Cambridge tomorrow? 8D Hahah.
Well, anyway. There are a lot of things I feel like I should post about, but maybe that can wait until I get my head back on straight. In the meantime, I want to mention three cool guys I met over the past few days, just to ensure that I remember them:
The first was Carlos, a kaqchikel artist I met with unfortunate timing in the bar on Thursday night in Antigua, as everyone in CIRMA was saying their goodbyes. He was insistent about my practicing Kaqchikel with him--and I would have liked to, had I not been preoccupied with other things. The following day we crossed paths again during a downpour, as he was walking down the street and I was standing on the sidewalk, getting soaked in the rain, sobbing my eyes out because I was so overwhelmed with the sadness of leaving. It was kind of horrifying that he found me like that, but in the moment I was almost too upset to care. He asked me, "utz awäch?" which is kind of like "how are you" but more literally "are you good?" and I was like NO. He got the message and took his leave. I saw him in the bar again that night and apologized, and he said that it was okay, that the gods were being kind to him for bringing us together three times in such a short period. He was very bouncy, very gracious, very kind. I said goodbye to him that night, for the last time.
The second was named Alexander, and we met under strange circumstances. It was Saturday, my final day in Antigua, and in spite of shitty, rainy weather, I couldn't bring myself to stay inside the house. Instead I found myself sitting in the park, watching people walk by, halfheartedly reading a newspaper, and trying not to be depressed. A guy sat down on the bench next to me and I half expected him to start a conversation, but he didn't. I sat there for a long time, reflecting. Suddenly, it started to rain, but I had come prepared, determined to bring an umbrella everywhere after numerous getting-soaked adventures the day before. It was raining really hard. The guy on the bench next to me was getting really wet, and I couldn't help but notice that there was DEFINITELY space under my umbrella for two people. I kept waiting for him to go find shelter, but he didn't, so finally I gave in and offered him some umbrella space, against my better judgment. Surprisingly, though, it really worked out. He was very nice, not a creeper at all, which is odd for Antigua. I suppose had he been a creeper, he'd have tried to talk to me sooner. He told me that he worked in the Casa de Jade, making fancy jewelry. We talked for a really long time, about nothing in particular, but the conversation wasn't even that awkward. We talked a lot about English (which he was learning in a morning school from 7-9 everyday), and Spanish, and even though he talked to me like a "tourist", it was still a nice conversation. I basically dragged myself away at the end, and even then only when it was 7 o'clock and already getting fairly dark. I gave him my email address, at the end. Maybe he'll end up emailing me. :)
Cool guy #3 I actually met on a plane, the plane from Houston to Boston. His name was Jorge. I said good afternoon to him when he sat down next to me, the way I always try to do when I'm on airplanes. I think at least a quick, initial exchange with the person next to you, even if it only serves to acknowledge the other's existence, makes the whole close proximity for extended periods thing a bit less awkward. I don't remember how the conversation expanded from there, but it came out that we had both flown out of Guatemala City that morning. He was Canadian, and had grown up in Montreal, but most of his family was still in Guatemala. He spoke French, pretty decent English, and good Spanish, and was just overall a pretty cool guy. He told me that he'd been in Guatemala for 6 months, working, visiting his family--and that in that time he'd gotten married, a move that had apparently come as a surprise even for him. A happy surprise, though. He kept talking about it in a kind of bemused tone, and fingering his ring as though he couldn't quite believe it. It was really nice, having him to talk to for the last leg of the trip. We reminisced about chuchos and shucos, about hocotes and camionetas. I offered him a piece of gum from a little paper pack that I'd bought that morning in Antigua, and he took it, smiling wryly and saying "Heh, this gum is from Guatemala." Yes, it was. :) Our interaction was almost like a sort of severance for me, having one last person to talk to who would understand. I was really sad for most of the way home, but when I said goodbye to Jorge, I emerged into Logan airport feeling a little better.
In my last few days, I also got to teach an extremely bright little boy named Sergio some English and gave him money for lunch, and got to say goodbye to Alvaro, my friend at Café Barista who had talked to me since the beginning of the semester, after I had been worried that I would never end up seeing him again. My last few days in Antigua honestly weren't that bad, all things considered. I think they were bound to be hard regardless: my time at CIRMA was undoubtedly the best semester of my life so far, and it's hard to see it come to an end.
Uhmm I really don't know what else to say; my brain is so utterly dead. I guess I'll leave you with a Humberto Ak'abal poem, my new favorite Guatemalan poet. And my translation, which doesn't quite capture it, but hopefully at least will get the point across.
Esperando Tu Regreso
Cada vez que se cierra esa puerta
se quejan sus bisagras oxidadas
como si quisieran permanecer abiertas
esperando tu regreso.
Esa puerta vacía no quiere creer
que nunca más volverás.
Waiting For Your Return
Every time that door is shut
its rusty hinges whine
as though they would like to remain open
waiting for your return.
That empty door doesn't want to believe
That you'll never return again.
On the other hand, many parts of the Boston area are experiencing a major water emergency due to a broken water main, and the emergency water supply is unpurified and nonpotable. So all the things I was accustomed to doing in Guate (being really careful while showering, not brushing teeth in tap water, not trusting the safety of salads...) still apply here. Except at the same time, it's almost MORE skeevy here, because people in Guatemala are used to being careful about washing vegetables and disinfecting food, while people here aren't. I'm not sure I necessarily trust veggies in Arlington right now o.O; Especially because, if I managed to get through an entire semester in Guatemala without contracting intestinal parasites, I would be really, really sad if I ended up getting them here. :( Luckily, however, Cambridge doesn't seem to be affected by this problem. Does anybody want to get lunch in Cambridge tomorrow? 8D Hahah.
Well, anyway. There are a lot of things I feel like I should post about, but maybe that can wait until I get my head back on straight. In the meantime, I want to mention three cool guys I met over the past few days, just to ensure that I remember them:
The first was Carlos, a kaqchikel artist I met with unfortunate timing in the bar on Thursday night in Antigua, as everyone in CIRMA was saying their goodbyes. He was insistent about my practicing Kaqchikel with him--and I would have liked to, had I not been preoccupied with other things. The following day we crossed paths again during a downpour, as he was walking down the street and I was standing on the sidewalk, getting soaked in the rain, sobbing my eyes out because I was so overwhelmed with the sadness of leaving. It was kind of horrifying that he found me like that, but in the moment I was almost too upset to care. He asked me, "utz awäch?" which is kind of like "how are you" but more literally "are you good?" and I was like NO. He got the message and took his leave. I saw him in the bar again that night and apologized, and he said that it was okay, that the gods were being kind to him for bringing us together three times in such a short period. He was very bouncy, very gracious, very kind. I said goodbye to him that night, for the last time.
The second was named Alexander, and we met under strange circumstances. It was Saturday, my final day in Antigua, and in spite of shitty, rainy weather, I couldn't bring myself to stay inside the house. Instead I found myself sitting in the park, watching people walk by, halfheartedly reading a newspaper, and trying not to be depressed. A guy sat down on the bench next to me and I half expected him to start a conversation, but he didn't. I sat there for a long time, reflecting. Suddenly, it started to rain, but I had come prepared, determined to bring an umbrella everywhere after numerous getting-soaked adventures the day before. It was raining really hard. The guy on the bench next to me was getting really wet, and I couldn't help but notice that there was DEFINITELY space under my umbrella for two people. I kept waiting for him to go find shelter, but he didn't, so finally I gave in and offered him some umbrella space, against my better judgment. Surprisingly, though, it really worked out. He was very nice, not a creeper at all, which is odd for Antigua. I suppose had he been a creeper, he'd have tried to talk to me sooner. He told me that he worked in the Casa de Jade, making fancy jewelry. We talked for a really long time, about nothing in particular, but the conversation wasn't even that awkward. We talked a lot about English (which he was learning in a morning school from 7-9 everyday), and Spanish, and even though he talked to me like a "tourist", it was still a nice conversation. I basically dragged myself away at the end, and even then only when it was 7 o'clock and already getting fairly dark. I gave him my email address, at the end. Maybe he'll end up emailing me. :)
Cool guy #3 I actually met on a plane, the plane from Houston to Boston. His name was Jorge. I said good afternoon to him when he sat down next to me, the way I always try to do when I'm on airplanes. I think at least a quick, initial exchange with the person next to you, even if it only serves to acknowledge the other's existence, makes the whole close proximity for extended periods thing a bit less awkward. I don't remember how the conversation expanded from there, but it came out that we had both flown out of Guatemala City that morning. He was Canadian, and had grown up in Montreal, but most of his family was still in Guatemala. He spoke French, pretty decent English, and good Spanish, and was just overall a pretty cool guy. He told me that he'd been in Guatemala for 6 months, working, visiting his family--and that in that time he'd gotten married, a move that had apparently come as a surprise even for him. A happy surprise, though. He kept talking about it in a kind of bemused tone, and fingering his ring as though he couldn't quite believe it. It was really nice, having him to talk to for the last leg of the trip. We reminisced about chuchos and shucos, about hocotes and camionetas. I offered him a piece of gum from a little paper pack that I'd bought that morning in Antigua, and he took it, smiling wryly and saying "Heh, this gum is from Guatemala." Yes, it was. :) Our interaction was almost like a sort of severance for me, having one last person to talk to who would understand. I was really sad for most of the way home, but when I said goodbye to Jorge, I emerged into Logan airport feeling a little better.
In my last few days, I also got to teach an extremely bright little boy named Sergio some English and gave him money for lunch, and got to say goodbye to Alvaro, my friend at Café Barista who had talked to me since the beginning of the semester, after I had been worried that I would never end up seeing him again. My last few days in Antigua honestly weren't that bad, all things considered. I think they were bound to be hard regardless: my time at CIRMA was undoubtedly the best semester of my life so far, and it's hard to see it come to an end.
Uhmm I really don't know what else to say; my brain is so utterly dead. I guess I'll leave you with a Humberto Ak'abal poem, my new favorite Guatemalan poet. And my translation, which doesn't quite capture it, but hopefully at least will get the point across.
Esperando Tu Regreso
Cada vez que se cierra esa puerta
se quejan sus bisagras oxidadas
como si quisieran permanecer abiertas
esperando tu regreso.
Esa puerta vacía no quiere creer
que nunca más volverás.
Waiting For Your Return
Every time that door is shut
its rusty hinges whine
as though they would like to remain open
waiting for your return.
That empty door doesn't want to believe
That you'll never return again.
no subject
no subject
Also, in response to your other comment which I apparently didn't answer because I fail: I don't know what I'm going to do when my computer dies; I probably wouldn't try to replace it until school starts again. A summer without a computer would be weird, but I basically lived between internet cafés in Guatemala anyway. >.> I'm sorry to hear that your desktop is dying too, though :( I hope that it's at least lasting long enough for you to finish everything important!
no subject