Guate & the F-Word

Before some people get their panties in a twist (uhum Peace Corps I know you're monitoring), this isn't a post about that F-Word.

Instead, it's about feminism. And since March 8th (this past Monday) was the 99th International Women's Day, I thought what a better time to discuss feminism than now.

Before I delve into the topic at hand though, let's discuss Guatemala  for a little bit.
And to start off, let's play a game... a word association game. So, if I could only use one word to describe Guatemalan culture, what would it be? Hmmm, oh yeah: machista.

Don't believe me? Well here are some stats to back up the machismo (which were brought to our attention during one of our weekly training sessions, sorry I didn't get the actual source... pretty sure my jaw hit the floor when I saw this and completely forgot to cite!).
Without further ado, Guatemalan gender issues in convenient 'percentage form':

• 30% of Guatemalan women surveyed think it is acceptable to be spoken to innappropriately
• 70% of Guatemalans surveyed agree women should remain in the home
• 54% of Guatemalan women surveyed agree to be submissive/docile to men
• 53% of Guatemalans surveyed agree that men determine # of children in family
• 60% of Guatemalans surveyed think that men are the economic decision makers
• And finally 4/10 Guatemalan females surveyed think men are the superior gender

I'm not sure about you, but these stats are frightening--especially when you see the effects of machismo in everyday life.

For example, being a proud feminist, I decided to decorate my netbook with a 'Feminism is for Lovers' sticker; nothing fancy, just a plain sticker with a strong message on it. One night, after my host family came in contact with the sticker, they decided to sit me down for dinner and 'scare me' with a wonderful (read: disturbing) bed time story (which I will paraphrase/embellish below).

There was once a strong, feminist in town who would fight for women's rights with her fog horn and picket sign. Day in and day out, she would rile up the women to stand up for their rights and rebel against the machismo in their homes and communities; singing songs that would make Rosie the Riveter and Margaret Sanger jump for joy. Well, one day the feminist took a little longer than expected to come home from a rally, but instead of being welcomed by her husband, she was brutally beaten while her ten year old son watched. As she cried for help, all the other 'smarter' women in town laughed their tushes off because the feminist should have known that it is a woman's job to please the husband first rather than go off galavanting and looking for trouble. The next day, the feminist appeared bruised and fragile, without her picket sign or her fog horn, because she had finally learned that her husband and son come first.

Yeah, these are the wonderful tales I was told after dinner; and let me remind you, this was all because of a sticker!

And these real stories (which come up alot) that are supposed to teach women their role in life don't even scratch the muggy, machista surface. In fact, the place you see machismo the most is on the street.

From the moment a woman (no matter the age) steps on the street, wearing anything from greasy sweatpants to t-shirt/jeans, it begins. A slew of suggestive comments shush chuch noises, whistling and general cat-calling from males ranging from 10 to 60 years old. Yeah you heard me, it can be anyone from a ten year old boy (who hasn't even felt the pangs of puberty) to a wrinkled, liver-spotted older gentleman of sixty.

Most of the time, I can deal with the general nuissance, but there are times when things so vile come out of these mouths that I just want to jump off the highest (5 ft, joke) building! I've only had to deal with this for three months and yet I look at Guatemalan women who have dealt with this their whole lives and ask, How do they do it?

While most of the population seems to be sticking to status quo, I have already seen amazing men and women trying to bring in different notions into culture through Women's groups and other organizations. In the future, in fact, I hope to partner up with my site-mate and give self-defense classes (as a secondary project) to women in our area. Who knows if it will be well received, but with the success of some of the other experimental organizations and notions, maybe we too can make a difference here.

Guate Soundtrack

Now--I was never someone who lived in a quiet neighborhood. In fact, I lived in Los Angeles; sirens, helicopters, and random shenanigans would lull me to sleep on a regular basis. But it wasn’t until I came to Guatemala that I actually realized how good I had it in the ‘sleep soundtrack’ realm.
The small, but hilly town where I live holds a treasure trove of local sounds (gallos, pavos, perros, morranos, y caballos make up the bulk of the nightly lullaby). Then there are the ‘bonus tracks’.

One thing you should know about my town before I go on, is the fact that it is quite a boisterous yet conservative town which houses citizens who are proud to be Catholic or Evangelical. Well, those bonus tracks that I mentioned above, are arenas for them to shout to the rooftops-- I love me some Jesus.

When the Catholic church has the mic-- it is an older man or a younger child praying over what seems to be a loud speaker that has a direct connection with my wall. Que Dios los Vendiga is something said over and over while folks sing hymns . Every Sunday, like clockwork, at 8pm, 10pm, Midnight, 2am, and 4am there is music and worship. And you would think I’m guessing about the times, but luckily (or the complete opposite in fact) the first Saturday in my town, I was afflicted with a little bug that had me sprinting to the restroom every two hours… just in time for me to hear the prayers out on the streets.
Now one would think, Well at least that’s just on Sunday. Well, you’re wrong. The Evangelical church also hosts it’s town worship on Thursdays (and sometimes Saturdays). Marimbas and singing over loud speaker fill the air so ‘the big guy’ can hear. But it does not stop there folks. In fact, I believe there is some godly van or bus that blasts this service over the night sky and throughout each and every street--making sure you heard that last plea. This theory comes from the fact that although there is the constant loud ceremony happening some place in town, it is amplified tenfold every fifteen or so minutes when it can be heard from the other side of every wall in my host family’s house.
So sure, helicopters and sirens are one thing… but nothing competes with this town’s loud speakers.

---Random Note----
I promise to attach more pictures next time! Internet cafes are killer when it comes to uploading photos!

Big Change, Big Hills (Training in Guate)

It has been exactly one week since I have been in Guate! Huzzah.

I have made it through an amazing first host family-- The Lopez family, no less -- who were a great first face to see in Guatemala. My P.C. hermana, Abra, and I definitely bonded with the family and even managed to learn a traditional dance from Gabriel, our host parents' eldest grandchild. Abra and I practically have la cancion numero seis seared into our heads.

Currently, I am living with a new host family in a larger, hilly town. Apart from sweating profusely and turning tomato red in the sun, I am learning more about the culture and what it means to be a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Sorry I don't have any pictures for you! I promise, next time, I will carry my thumb drive when I head over to the internet cafe.

P.S. For those still wondering... one bag finally arrived half an hour before leaving for National Airport. Bag number two though, is lost with all my clothes, shoes, and P.C. items. I was prepared for big changes, and I guess this is my first...