The past few days have been crazy busy and eventful. Chris and I are in San Cristobal to deal with technical issues, so I will take the opportunity to update on what has been going on, and, if possible, reflect a little bit on our experiences.
Saturday we finally made it to Q with all our belongings. It actually wasn't as harrowing a journey as I expected. We took two taxis all the way. We went to dinner at Fernando's house, where we were given beans and rice and a nice chicken they had bought from the city. It actually all seemed normal, until I would catch a glimpse of a chick underneath Farah's seat, or my own, and realize that I was in a totally different life. We spoke with Fernando about the possibility of getting stoves from Sedesol vs. working on a donation, and he told us we should talk with all the promotores about it.
Fernando has 4 children. The eldest is 11 and the youngest is 4. She is adorable, and her names is Carla. They are extremely well behaved and help their mother, but they also play with each other the same as all siblings. All the children stare at us, but they think it is funny when we try to speak Tzotzil words. We play peek a boo and kick around the soccer ball with them. It all seems normal until you see the 11 year old come home with a machete and a huge bag of greenery on his head, and he tells you he has been working all day since he is on vacation from school.
On Sunday morning we presented ourselves in church. The whole mass was in Tzotzil, and Fernando translated for us when we greeted everyone in Spanish. We told them our names, and that we were friends with the group from last year, and that we were doing a similar project. It seemed to go alright, but it is hard to tell. Then we went to Chenalo (the bigger city, the "municipio") for the fiesta de San Pedro. San Pedro is the patron saint of Chenalo, so there was a big party with a ferris wheel and lots of bands. Nobody danced very much, but they seemed to like the music. Fernando was excited to hear the band "Pumas del Norte," but we went home with his wife and sister (Roselia, a promotora) before they came on. There were also lots of drunk men after the fiesta.
In the middle of the day, we thanked Carmela (Fernando's wife), for the breakfast she made for us. She apologized for the small portion, and said that it was because she didn't have the money to buy food for us. That was a seriously awful moment. I have rarely felt worse. All of us set into a panic, and managed to buy rice and beans and gave them to her. The next day we bought some tomatoes, onion, and mangos. Before we go back, Chris and I want to buy more rice and beans and eggs. It still feels awful to eat there, especially when we can see all the children watching us. Food is, relatively, very expensive here. It seems to be almost what I would pay in the US, but the average income is so much less.
When we got a ride back to Q (in the back of a truk, which Chris, Farah and I are too tall for), we had to walk about 30 min back to Fernando's house. I felt like dying. It was all uphill, and I was seriously miserable and lagged 5 min behind everyone. It was pretty embarrasing to see Fernando's mother, who has borne at least 12 children and has several grandchildren, walk up the hill carrying goods on her head. She had to stop to wait for me to catch up.
On Monday we went to Acteal for a meeting of health promoters. We were able to present the options regarding the stoves, and they had a good discussion and told us that they would prefer if we were able to get a donation from HELPS, but if not, that we could try to take the responsibility for the stoves, and then give it to them. We told them we would try to get the stoves donated. It was also interesting to see how they planned how they were going to distribute vaccines to all the communities over 4 days. They all divided up. It is nearly impossible for them to communicate outside of the monthly meetings they have, so they plan ahead.
While we were waiting outside for Las Abejas to finish, we met Manuel. Manuel is a 23 year old from Acteal. He remembered the massacre very well, and his family, and most probably his parents, died in the massacre. I think it affected him a lot. He was clearly unwell. He said he had Typhoid, but he was otherwise affected. He was somewhat glazed over, and kept moving his armes. He said that when he was sad he made up jokes and songs to make himself feel better. He told us some jokes. We asked him to sing a song, and he did. It was about the massacre. He said he wrote it in December to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the massacre. It was very short, and I don't remember all the words, but it started like this "el 22 de deciembre, el ano 97" then he mentioned that his parents and cousins died in the massacre. It ended by talking about the little girls who were killed, ages 4 and a half, and 8 months. Despite what I have learned about Chiapas and the massacre, it didn't really hit home for me until I heard his song. When we left he said he had a surprise to show us, but we didn't get to see it because a truck came to take us away. I feel awful that we left him. I hope we can go back to see him again and give him my Spanish-English dictionary. He likes to learn English. We were walking up some stairs, he waited and walked at my pace, and told me "take care."
On Sunday night we tried to charge the pumps, and realized that they weren't charging. It was a fairly awful feeling because we felt sure that we were delayed at least a week. Chris and I came down to San Cristobal this morning to sort out all the issues. Jackie and Farah stayed back to do the adoption study in Q. We spent the whole day running around to various shops, realizing they were closed for siesta, trying another one, thinking the problem was solved, realizing it wasn't, and looking for another solution. We now think we have figured it out. We tried to go back tonight so that we could start placing filters tomorrow, but, after walking 20 min with our huge bags in the rain, we missed the last truck to Yabteclum by about 30 seconds. We tried to chase after it, but it was hopeless. I think it is probably for the best, given the dark and rain, but it is annoying to be delayed another day.
One very good thing that happened out of today is that we heard from Rodolfo that the stoves will be donated by Helps, though we have to figure out the border issue. Somehow miraculously, Fernando encountered us on the street, after his phone cut off. He said he recognized my voice :) Anyway, within 5 min, he had organized a meeting with the administrator of Doctors of the World, who we met with, and who is helping us hire an agency to transport the stoves across the border, so that we don't have to go there ourselves. I'm hopeful that it will work out.
I guess this is more of a recounting of events than a reflection of my experiences, but hopefully now you have a little bit of an idea of what we are witnessing. Life for the people in Quexalhukum is hard. Harder than I realized, though they could probably point to people for whom life is much more difficult. Some things are easier, of course. I suspect for people like Manuel, life is more promising. He lives in community where he can just float, and people look out for him.
But for others, life is hard. Carmela has to worry about how to feed her family. Everyone has to walk for hours in rain and mud to get anywhere. They have to work together to clear the roads.
Enough for now. I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow promises to be equally strenuous.
Colabal (gracias en Tzotizl)
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