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[post_content] => Wednesday was a travel day. We gathered, as had become the custom, in the meeting space of el Proyecto Chico Mendes, casa de Armando y Claudia Lopez. The only difference on this morning was that we had our backpacks overstuffed and ready to go.
Walking down a dusty road, 30 lbs. of gear strapped on with durable nylon, I only needed a helmet with oxygen tube to complete the picture. As had become the custom, we said our good mornings to the folks riding bicycles, men walking with feedsack shoulder bags carrying machetes, women in bright colored clothing. Once again, though, we were shipping out.
The small bus we had arrived in was waiting. After many thanks and farewells to Armando, Claudia, Raoul, Angel, Manuel, Francisco, and others, we saddled up. It was an instant change of gears. Aboard the bus, some swapped stories of home stays, some stared out the windows, some slept.
We passed through Xela and eventually caught the Pan American highway. It was a big change from the dusty backroads of Pachaj, Cantel. Despite the international highway moniker, though, people's homes still abut the road. It's the main camino, too, where people walk and bike in the drainage shoulder or concrete meridian.
The Pan Am cants through impossible turns, climbing and descending mountains stepped with corn rows. Occasional road side attractions pop up under tents on the shoulder--furniture, car parts, juice, zapattos. At Xajaxac, we turned south on Rt. 1 and began our descent to Lake Attitlan.
The valleys became greener, and the dust lessened. A patchwork of farms dotted the landscape below where the world fell away for 1,000'. As we'd been hovering at around 8,000' for about a week, it felt good to descend into humid, denser air.
Finally, after crowded market towns with the ever present honks and chirps of Tut-tut taxis, the lake came into view. While the volcanoes were obscured by fog, the lush hillsides with their weekend and summer homes provided sites of a far different Guatemala than what we had seen thus far.
Rosario's house beside the lake, stepped into a steep descent, awaited. Her chilles relenos and warm generosity awaited, too. After her lunch and a short boat ride across the lake, we would enter yet another Guatemala.
[post_title] => Travel Day Number Four
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
Wednesday was a travel day. We gathered, as had become the custom, in the meeting space of el Proyecto Chico Mendes, casa de Armando y Claudia Lopez. The only difference on this morning was that we had our backpacks overstuffed and ready to go. Walking down a dusty road, 30 lbs. of gear strapped […]
04/23/13
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[post_content] => Mount Desert Island High School students and teachers just boarded a plane headed for Dallas. They'll arrive to Boston late tonight and get on a school bus there that will in fact be delivering them on time to go to school early Monday! Though instructors won't be joining them for our usual morning meeting, we're pretty certain there'll be one over breakfast. True to character, this exceptional group is tireless at coming together and putting their best step forward for the next challenge.
[post_title] => On the plane, in the air
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
Mount Desert Island High School students and teachers just boarded a plane headed for Dallas. They’ll arrive to Boston late tonight and get on a school bus there that will in fact be delivering them on time to go to school early Monday! Though instructors won’t be joining them for our usual morning meeting, we’re pretty […]
04/21/13
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[post_content] => This is what happens when students and instructors spend too much time together in Guatemala. But there is nothing like some last night fun.
[post_title] => twinning
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
This is what happens when students and instructors spend too much time together in Guatemala. But there is nothing like some last night fun.
04/20/13
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[post_content] => Wednesday was another travel day. We gathered, as had become the custom, in the meeting space of el Proyecto Chico Mendez, casa de Armando y Claudia Lopez. The only difference on this morning was that we had our backpacks overstuffed and ready to go.
Walking down a dusty road, 30 lbs. of gear strapped on with durable nylon, I only needed a helmet with oxygen tube to complete the picture. As had become the custom, we said our good mornings to the folks riding bicycles, men walking with feedsack shoulder bags carrying machetes, women in bright colored clothing. Once again, though, we were shipping out.
The small bus we had arrived in was waiting. After many thanks and farewells to Armando, Claudia, Raoul, Angel, Manuel, Francisco, and others, we saddled up. It was an instant change of gears. Aboard the bus, some swapped stories of home stays, some stared out the windows, some slept.
We passed through Xela and eventually caught the Pan American highway. It was a big change from the dusty backroads of Pachaj, Cantel. Despite the international highway moniker, though, people's homes still abut the road. It's the main camino, too, where people walk and bike in the drainage shoulder or concrete meridian.
The Pan Am cants through impossible turns, climbing and descending mountains stepped with corn rows. Occasional road side attractions pop up under tents on the shoulder--furniture, car parts, juice, zapattos. At Xajaxac, we turned south on Rt. 1 and began our descent to Lake Attitlan.
The valleys became greener, and the dust lessened. A patchwork of farms dotted the landscape below where the world fell away for 1,000'. As we'd been hovering at around 8,000' for about a week, it felt good to descend into humid, denser air.
Finally, after crowded market towns with the ever present honks and chirps of Tut-tut taxis, the lake came into view. While the volcanoes were obscured by fog, the lush hillsides with their weekend and summer homes provided sites of a far different Guatemala than what we had seen thus far.
Rosario's house beside the lake, stepped into a steep descent, awaited. Her chilles relenos and warm generosity awaited, too. After her lunch and a short boat ride across the lake, we would enter yet another Guatemala.
[post_title] => Travel Day # ?
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
Wednesday was another travel day. We gathered, as had become the custom, in the meeting space of el Proyecto Chico Mendez, casa de Armando y Claudia Lopez. The only difference on this morning was that we had our backpacks overstuffed and ready to go. Walking down a dusty road, 30 lbs. of gear strapped […]
04/19/13
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[post_title] => Photos from Guatemala
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04/19/13
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
04/19/13
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[post_content] => Thursday. Lago Attitlan. San Lucas. A quick and jumpy pick-up ride away from our hotel, climbing and descending through thick forests of shade coffee and avocado, we arrived at el Instituto Meso Americano de Permacultura (PIMA). Ronny, our host for the day, hopped out, calmly excited to introduce the MDIHS/Dragons crew to permaculture, Guatemala style.
As Meso America mostly signifies Mayan culture, in addition to the distinct geography and climate of the region, much of the focus was on Mayan agriculture. Just as Ronny said, Can you imagine the world without tomatoes, squash and corn? Most people who eat processed food have more corn in their bodies than Meso Americans, how is that?
Just as the Pan American highway is a vein linking the two larger land-masses of the Americas, and just as Central America is the spine, Meso America is the heart. One of the world's seven most diverse bioregions, this beating heart of the Americas accounts for much of the life which exists in the Western Hemisphere.
As Ronny spoke, I could imagine the crushing weight of the last ice age closing in on, but not quite freezing over, this essential zone. In that way, it has always been a seed bank, sowing the new life which would follow retreating ice. Part of IMAP's current vision is to preserve and maintain the diversity of species, here, banking seeds and continuing the knowledge of the milpa: a balanced field of squash, beans and corn.
Genetically modified organisms and corporate strong arming may be the new Ice Age, but IMAP hopes to maintain kernels of practical knowledge for the future. More than food security, they seek food sovereignty. Eating in their open air dining facility, preparing for an afternoon of volunteer work, it is easy to see why. Their land is a little slice of paradise in one of the most beautiful places on this earth.
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
Thursday. Lago Attitlan. San Lucas. A quick and jumpy pick-up ride away from our hotel, climbing and descending through thick forests of shade coffee and avocado, we arrived at el Instituto Meso Americano de Permacultura (PIMA). Ronny, our host for the day, hopped out, calmly excited to introduce the MDIHS/Dragons crew to permaculture, Guatemala style. […]
04/19/13
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[post_content] => Bought us some bananas,
Ate some sketchy carne,
Got some wrong directions,
Sitting in some parque,
Now we're watching some weird robot,
While being offered some strange jewlery,
A cloud of bees is coming,
Now we gotta go running!
[post_title] => Scavenger Hunt
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
Bought us some bananas, Ate some sketchy carne, Got some wrong directions, Sitting in some parque, Now we’re watching some weird robot, While being offered some strange jewlery, A cloud of bees is coming, Now we gotta go running!
04/19/13
WP_Post Object
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[post_date] => 2013-04-18 00:00:00
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[post_content] => I woke up on our last morning in Pachaj a little sad but a little grateful to be leaving. My host mom, Doña Vicki, heated up some water for me to wash, and didn´t mind my not eating breakfast, since I had been so incredibly ill the day before. My little sister, Mimi, disappeared shortly after I woke up and I didn´t see her again, but my little nephew, Angelito, the son of my older sister, was running around, occasionally looking into my room to roar at me.
After my shower (which isn´t really a shower, it´s one big tub of hot water with a little pail to piur it over yourself), I had dressed and was packing the rest of my things, ready to finally leave Pachaj and see what is often called, at least by residents, the most beautiful lake in the world. I didn´t have much in common with my little sister or really anyone else in my host family; I had gifted Vicki with the pancake mix, the maple syrup, postcards, and a canvas bag, I gave a Spanish version of "Charlotte´s Web" to Mimi, but had given most of my little gifts, including the Pictureka! game, thegame of Jacks, coloring books and too many crayons, to my nephew, Angelito, and his mom.
I was about done packing, when Angelito, coaxed by his mom, came into my room with a white cloth.
"Gracias para los crayones." he said, and presented me with the most beautiful, hand stitched embroidery I had ever seen. His mom smiled brightly at me as she told me to read it. It said:
Para: Mia
De: Angelito
Before, I had never really thought I had connected very well with my host family. Yes, we were acquaintances, I went there every night, they shared their food with me and laughed at my poor Spanish, and I gave them gifts in thanks.
But what they gave me was the greatest gift I could have ever gotten in return for anything I had presented them with. It´s worth more than all the maple syrup and pancake mix in the world.
[post_title] => Memorable, Indeed
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
I woke up on our last morning in Pachaj a little sad but a little grateful to be leaving. My host mom, Doña Vicki, heated up some water for me to wash, and didn´t mind my not eating breakfast, since I had been so incredibly ill the day before. My little sister, Mimi, disappeared shortly […]
04/18/13
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[post_content] => During our time in Pachaj, our days consisted mainly of three components: voluntering for the Chico Mendes Reforestation Project, interacting with our homestay families, and one-on-one spanish lessons.
When Armando, the founder of Chico Mendes and a major coordinator of our time in Pachaj, spokes of our spanish lessons, he described his belief in allaying the notorious machismo that often seems to mainifest iteslf in the cultural and social norms of Guatemalan society. One way that the Chico Mendez Project helps to separate itself from such sexist ideology, is to hire many (even mostly) women as our spanish instructors, some of which are also as young as 17.
The format of the lessons themselves vary from student to student, however,
in my experience they consisted of a combination of grammatical lessons and review, vocabulary, exploring Pachaj, and most importantly, conversation. Each lesson was in the afternoon and lasted approximetely 4 hours with one break and game in the middle.
On the second day of lessons, every student had the treat of going to a local market with their teacher in order to buy different foods. I bought one watermelon for 10 Quetzales, or for a little over a dollar. My instructor and I then proceeded to explore the market for around 20 minutes before we all piled back into the pickup trucks that often act as taxis in Guatemala. The maket was huge, with many people selling products such as fish, produce, breads, and even clothing and footware. While walking I had to be careful of the tarps that served as a ceiling in many places. These tarps may be the correct height for the typical Guatemalan, but, as with many doors and even the shower head at my host family´s house, I had to duck in order to fit under them.
After our adventure in the market, we all returned to Hermando´s house and split into various teams, each creating a dish from the food the we bought. Afterwards, our dragons instuctors judged our meals based on taste, presentation, and the description of the dish that the group provided. My group, The Mejores, created a delicious fruit salad, winning for best description. It was a very fun and educational activity that all the students enjoyed very much.
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MDIHS Guatemala Semester, Spring 2013
During our time in Pachaj, our days consisted mainly of three components: voluntering for the Chico Mendes Reforestation Project, interacting with our homestay families, and one-on-one spanish lessons. When Armando, the founder of Chico Mendes and a major coordinator of our time in Pachaj, spokes of our spanish lessons, he described his belief in […]
04/18/13