Noshita

Tactic is a thoroughfare for buses heading to and from Cobán, as well as a stopping point for buses coming out of the Polochic Valley. Every micro has its route listed on the front of the luggage rack (Salamá – Cobán, Cobán – Guate, etc.), but they are also identifiable by their individual or association name decaled on the front and back windshields. APROMIAV and Kardamely are two micro associations that run between Tactic and Cobán, while the “New York” micro, whose ayudante never fails to whistle and make a lewd comment, operates between Cobán and El Rancho.

“Noshita” is the name for a micro from Tamahú. When I arrived in Tactic, the Noshita bus was missing the “A.” The other letters were spaced as such that it looked like two words, and I wondered whether the owner had spent some time in the states or simply didn’t know what the phrase meant. Either way, I thought it was hilarious.

After about 2 months, the owners finally replaced the “A,” and the Noshita bus regained its true meaning, an endearing nickname for a woman. Several months later I imparted the story of the A-less Noshita bus to the women of Nu’Kem at a board meeting. I explained to them my surprise at seeing a bus with that phrase given its vulgar meaning in English. I also explained to them the occasions in which the phrase is utilized. Unfortunately, I think I did too good of a job explaining its usage, because the women are now very adept at employing it. Rarely an obvious statement on my part is let pass without a, “No &$@!, Seño,” followed by bursts of laughter.

So I suppose if nothing else can be said after my two years of service, I did teach a bunch of indigenous Mayan women to curse like sailors in English. I am going to count it as completing the second goal of Peace Corps: “Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.” Next up: beer, hot dogs, and college football.