Poco a Poco

My site is beginning to grow on me. I’ll have good days when people will recognize me and approach me in conversation, and then bad days when I don’t get hellos back. People definitely are not used to seeing Black people, ever. Most times they don’t think I’m American; I’m either from Livingston (a small city in eastern Guatemala where the only Blacks in the country live), Cuban because there are Cuban doctors who work at the Puesto de Salud (health center) in my town, Brazilian I don’t know why, and finally African. The good thing is that I don’t get treated badly because I’m Black, instead I’m more of a rarity. People are more curious towards me rather than hateful. Strangers will call me Morena (brown skinned), or I’ll just get the straight up Negrita both terms used with huge smiles on people’s faces. It seems to be just part of the culture down here. In the states it wouldn’t be okay if someone called out to me, ¨hey brown-skinned girl, ¨ or ¨hey little black girl,¨ but here it’s a term of endearment, just like they call fat people gordo or gorda right to their faces. Cultural differences are interesting aren’t they? I do have a funny story though. So I’ve actually made good friends with the owners of a Comedor in my town. My CTA introduced me to them my first day in site, Doña Fina and Don Esau husband and wife. They are very friendly and the food is delicious- needless to say I go there often. They live in another town not too far from my site where another volunteer also lives. So this past Sunday, I went there and had lunch at their house with the other volunteer. We had white rice and vegetables that were AMAZING, met the rest of the family, saw pictures of their trip to the Mayan ruins in Tikal, and pictures of their two children who are working Los Angeles (there are so many Guatemalan immigrants in Los Angeles that to them the United States is Los Angeles- no other city exists). So we were all chatting and Doña Fina randomly brings up Trenzas (braids), and asks if I could braid her 6 ear old daughter’s hair. I just about died! The topic changed and I thought I had gotten out of it, but when I said I was about to leave, she asked me again and whipped out hair ties, a comb, and baby oil. So I braided the girls hair, it was the least I could do after she gave me a delicious free meal. So even though they never see or interact with Black people they know that we can braid hair- I wonder if that’s what people in my town think when they see me: Ooo there goes the Morena, I wonder if she can do Trenzas? Next time I’m over Doña Fina´s house maybe I’ll give her a little cultural lesson, open up her mind a little.
Update on the house. My future landlord Don Domingo told me that the water heater would cost me 800 quetzales. I didn’t really think twice about this figure considering how important hot water will be to me for the next two years. The minute I mentioned the price to the other volunteers they immediately suggested that I only pay half for the water heater because he is still going to benefit from it after I leave, and to lower my monthly rent by 100 quetzales. We had arranged the money exchange for the upcoming Monday, so I called him on Sunday just to let him know that I was no longer able to pay 800 quetzales. Not gonna lie, I was a little nervous especially because I had so eagerly said yes to the original prices – I made it seem like money wasn’t an object when in fact it really is. Turns out he was fine with me only paying half for the water heater, and on Monday we discussed the rent situation and he was okay with 500 instead of 600 quetzales. My story was that my ¨agency¨ only gives me an inflexible amount of money for housing, and that the prices we discussed originally were too high, even though at the time I thought my agency could increase my allotment. Kind of vague I know, but it seems like the less details the better, and he’d rather have me pay something than nothing at all- the space would be empty otherwise. So now I can actually say that I have a place to live for the next two years, instead of I think I have a place.