Guatemala Again

Day 1
The Return to Guatemala

Ah, the smells of guatemala return with the sweet petrol creeping through my 6 dollar per night room as well as the bumping comforting noise of the regeton music from a few streets down. I turned off the lights last night and felt the comfort creep back in of being back in Xela. Amazing what a little noise and smell will do for you. The walls, although they make for a private quarter, don´t do justice for the creeping noises of other folks crawling back to bed or opening their doors at 3am for a potty break. But every time I awoke, I smiled and returned to my nesting position realizing that there are people close by.

This morning I walked towards the smell of the panaderia to find breakfast for all of 50 cents. We then piled 7 people until a four person car and traveled safely up the winding roads to the mountainous village of Simbala. If corn was worth something this whole community would be rich with row upon rows of corn intermixing with villages and horses. Dogs ran past the cars with one unfortunately getting hit before our eyes. And when a team of medical people still have to turn their eyes it shows that we still get emotional to watch something die.

The Centro de Salud was nothing more than a huge concrete building with 30 chairs. All of the prometores came from different communities, and we split them into groups. My group of 6 ended up being a mix of people who have been health care workers (meaning no education required to be the liasion between their understanding and when to send them to a doctor) for 20 years to a new one only 18 years old. But the amount of knowledge they carried surprised me! We discussed danger signs in kids, diarrhea, dehydration, respiratory distress....all in one day. I had a baby come in from the clinic that they could practice counting respiratory rates...but by the end I think the little chitlin could handle no more and was breathing way past the normal. At least they could tell me that. One lady was trying to count with her watch held upside down, and after I realized that she was only counting whatever she wanted (not the baby), I turned the watch around and told her just to watch the baby. I think she got it. Maybe.

The wife of the doctor made cafecito and lunch which consisted of pollo de pepein (traditional chicken with mole like sauce but not...apparently I was told that) rice, tamalitos and some gelatin dessert I would highly recommend not eating again. The melted M and M´s on the top gave it away.

It was really interesting being the ¨trainer¨for the day. They really looked to me for advice but the idea was that they come up with all of the information and then practice different scenarios. They were more excited to learn about my new engagement and how to come back with me to the United States the the guide. Many times, they would start talking about the food they wanted to make me and stories of their family in the US. We had fun, but I would try to bring them back to the reason they were there without forgetting to have some laughs in between.

We ended with me telling them to go home and practice counting respirations on other people which quickly turned into trying to count respirations on the opposite sex. One guy said that would definitley make the respiratory count go higher than normal (at least they got the concept) and became the talk of all the other groups as they came out laughing about their homework.

As I sit in the infamous internet cafe with computers no farther than two feet from each other, I realize what I miss about Latin America. When you have mix of blaring stereos and mixed scents of burning wood with petrol that is one moment to bring you back. But the smiles and affection felt by mere strangers that continually welcome you into their life, their homes, and their food...now that is the latin america I miss.

Time to go look for dinner!
Hasta Manana