After we left Antigua, we spent one week in a rural language school outside of Xela in a small Caserìo called Pajac. Our group of YAVs was the first group the language school taught outside of the city. Tito, the head of the language school had trouble finding enough families willing to host students, so I ended up living with Emily for the week. Emily and I lived with an incredible nice Quiche family. There was a husband and wife, their two sons, the husband´s mother, sister, and grandmother. We only learned a little of their story, but the grandmother´s husband died when she was two months pregnant with the mother. The grandmother moved back to Pajac after she gave birth, where her family resided. The mother has 3 daughters and 1 son. Her husband died 25 years old, and her youngest daughter can´t but much older than 25. The youngest daughter who still lived in the house is a nurse in Xela, and the daughter in law is a school teacher. I am not completely sure what the son does, but he is a manual laborer and worked a variety of different hours, sometimes during the day and other times at night. The family speaks Spanish, but the women speak Quiche in the kitchen and I don´t think the grandmother speaks much Spanish, but she was also pretty deaf.
I can´t say I loved the food during this homestay. Bascially we ate fried grease for a week, but we did have a refraccion every evening before supper. The snack consisted of this tea made out of mostly sugar and corn. Emily called it corn juice and it was delicious. We also had this type of bread called quesadilla. It is a bread made out of elote. Guatemalans have many different words for corn, based on different stages in the life of the corn. Maize is the typical translation for corn, but elote is the cob of the corn and is often roasted. Once the elote is roasted you can make a dough, and from this dough our family made the delicious quesadilla bread. It tastes like corn bread, but much more wonderful.
After every meal and snack Brian will go up to each person with his hands behind his back and give a little bow saying, ¨Gracias.¨ The receiver of his thanks will touch his head and say, ¨Buean provecho.¨ This is a Mayan custom and sign of mutual respect, giving and receiving thanks. Every one in Guatamala thanks the people they shared their meal with. Not only is it being grateful for the food eaten, but it is being grateful for the company shared. Sometimes it is difficult for me to accept hospitality and to be waited on. One evening the mother came rushing back from a funeral in order to begin to prepare dinner for us, even though the rest of the family was still at the funeral. Emily and I asked her if we could help her in anyway, and she said sure, we could help make the tortillas. Emily and I had already tried to make tortillas our first night, and failed drastically. The tortilla dough sticks to your hands if your hands are not moist enough, but then the dough does not stick enough if your hands our too wet. Then there is the perfect amount of dough you have to use, otherwise the tortilla is too thick, or too small. There is a perfect science to making tortillas, and Emily and I are no help in the tortilla making department. We get into the kitchen and the mother tells us to sit down and feeds us corn juice and quesadilla. It was only later we ¨helped¨ make tortillas, but in reality we were just waited on without helping at all.
That night Emily and I talked about the story of Mary, Martha, and Jesus. This is a story that tells us how accompaniment is more important than doing, and our year as YAVs is about accompanying the people of Guatemala. Emily mentioned how she always wishes that Jesus went into to the kitchen to help. I feel that would be a more appropriate story for what we are doing here. Accompaniment is about joining the lives of the people here, and part of that is helping in the kitchen. It is difficult when we are not really allowed to help, and how to figure out how to force people to allow us to accompany in all aspects of life, instead of being viewed as a guest to be waited on.
Our house did not have a bathroom, only a latrine outside near the pig pen. Emily and I realized the first day we would probably be going a week without a shower, which we did. The family also had two dogs, a puppie and an older dog. The very first afternoon we arrived, Brian, the 7 year old son, asked Emily and I if we wanted to play. We went outside to play soccer and passed by the dogs. The older dog snarled at us and Brian told us to watch out for him because he is mean. So, of course, Emily and I then watch out for the snarling dog. As we are walking down the driveway down to the road to play soccer we have to walk by the pickup which the dog is now hiding under. Emily did not realize the dog had moved under the truck and when she walked by he snarled again and Emily must have jumped three feet and screamed running into the street. It was incredibly funny, but our fear of the dog never wavered for the rest of the week. Now Emily and I were out in the street playing with Brian, and unable to get back in the house because the dog is watching us and snarls whenever we get too close to the driveway. When it becomes time to head back into the house for supper Brian hands Emily and I two rocks and tells us to throw them at the dog while we walk back inside. Obviously Emily and I do not throw the rocks and the dog, but the mother comes outside and throws a huge rock at the dog. Now Emily and I are inside the house, but we can´t leave to go to the latrine without fear of the dog. Brian and the wife had to escort us to the bathroom and told us to come wake them up if we needed to go in the middle of the night. After the first night Emily and I stopped making the family escort us, but we generally always went together with a huge stick. The dog eventually stopped growling at us, but he stayed suspicious of us and Emily and I never left the house without sticks, and were always scared to use the latrine late at night or early in the morning.
When we left the family the grandmother and wife gave us each a small gift and a bag of apples. While the bathroom situation was difficult, especially with the scary dog, the cot was uncomfortable, and I was constantly cold, I really enjoyed my week in Pajac. Instead of being grateful for what I do have, I realized how easy it is to become accustomed to doing without. Really all we need is good company, corn juice, quesadilla bread, and the willingness to show kindness and open ourselves up to complete strangers.
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