Saturday, January 31, 2009

Friday, January 30, 2009

Vistas de las Islas

I got back from my vacation to the Bay Islands at the beginning of the week, and now I am back in the groove here in Tactic. I will make a post about the trip sometime in the near future, but until then here are some pictures…





Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Mini Court

This is Purulhá’s basketball court. I think whoever was in charge of painting the lines took the general idea of what a court should look like and then just improvised. The 3-point line was at the distance of where the free throw line should be (on the right hand side), and the lane was located as such that the hoop was about ¾ of the way to one side. It made for an interesting game, which we won, by the way.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Awards Ceremony

After the finals of the men’s and women’s basketball leagues and the youth and men’s soccer leagues, the Muni put on an awards ceremony. I was the official photographer for the event “representing ESPN 2.”

The trophies.

A packed house for the finals.

Álvaro representing the winners of the youth soccer league. (He is one of "my" kids.)

Winners of the men's soccer league.

The winners of the women's league.

My future basketball team?

Monday, January 19, 2009

New Year's Party

These are some pictures of some my basketball teammates and their families from the cookout at my house.



Friday, January 16, 2009

Vacaciones

Since I stayed in Guatemala for Christmas and New Year’s, I am taking a little vacation now instead. I am headed out for the island of Utila in the Bay Islands chain of Honduras. Kelly and Mosiah will once again be my travel companions for this trip. Some of their friends are flying in from the states, and we have rented a gorgeous beach house for a week to celebrate Mosiah’s 30th birthday. I am looking forward to soaking up the sun on the beach, swimming, fishing, scuba diving, and playing marathon games of scrabble and cards.

I’ll start back up writing when I return from our tropical paradise, but I’ll be posting some pictures in the meantime. Hasta luego.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Basketball Diaries

Back in May of last year I was picked up by the Muni team to play with them in Tactic’s women’s basketball league. We won a total of one game throughout the whole three-month season, and we got that win only because the other team didn’t show up.

This past October we started a new season (the staple sports in Guatemala consist of soccer and basketball and are played year round). We picked up some new players in the off-season, I forced them to have some practices (though never more than a fourth of the team would ever show up at a time), and we managed to place 4th out of six teams. Baby steps.

The flow of a women’s basketball game in Tactic (well at least when my team is playing) is usually along these lines: Someone from my team will launch a running two-handed bullet from around two feet behind the three-point line. The ball will ricochet off the backboard and since our team was not even fully down the court when the ill-advised shot was taken, the other team will easily rebound it. They will bring the ball up the court and take a similarly poor shot, which I’ll rebound and throw the ball to a teammate further up the court who will miss a lay-up (if she even initially catches the pass). The other team will rebound the ball, and the cycle will start all over again. By the middle of the game it becomes nearly constant three-on-two as members of both teams quit playing either offense or defense.

My description might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it really not far from the truth. There are some good players in the league (but none of them happen to be on my team, bless their hearts), and there are two “good” teams (it is all relative). But the vast majority of the women have absolutely no skills.

I love playing basketball, but playing it here in Guatemala requires every ounce of self-control and patience that I possess. It is like sloppy street ball except that no one calls her own foul and the referees rarely do either. (Once while with Michelle and Mike watching a game preceding mine, a girl got fouled really hard in the process of lay-up. Mike asked, “Where was the ref on that one? She got hammered!” We looked to find the referee completely oblivious to what happened, because he was talking on his cell phone.) I have not participated in such a violent form of basketball since the summer after my senior year in high school when we went to Ireland to play against the 18&U Irish national team.

Even though they were dirty players, at least the Irish team knew how to play basketball. Here it is just out of control. Women grab arms, push, and throw elbows. And because I am the foreign gringa playing, I think I get the bulk of the rage. I have yet to finish a game not either bleeding and/or bruised (it doesn’t help that we play on a concrete court). My sitemate, Michelle, who has come to numerous games and seen me constantly beaten, has no idea why I continue to play. Perhaps I am just a glutton for punishment.

A gentleman from Cobán came down to Tactic to put on a refereeing clinic during this past season. He blames the brutality of the game here on the fact that Guatemalans don’t receive adequate physical education during their youth and therefore never fully develop their motor skills. The women simply can’t control themselves. Hmm. Perhaps. But I would say a larger part of the problem is that Guatemalans personalize everything during the game. If I block someone’s shot, intercept a pass, or steal the ball from someone dribbling, I am fully prepared to be attacked by that person on the next trip up the court. It is unrestrained vengeance.

When it comes to rebounding it is pura lucha libre under the basket. In the three or four dozen games that I have played in Guatemala, never once has a referee called a foul during a rebound. Anything goes. But since I am a bit of a giant among dwarfs (I have been moved to the post position because I am so “tall”), and I employ this newfangled technique called “blocking out,” I have come to occupy a role that I have never before held (and will never again among people of normal height)—a 5’5” rebounding powerhouse. I pull down double digits in rebounds every game.

Although rebounding mayhem still does and probably will continue to go uncalled, I must say the referees here in Tactic have made some great strides since I have been playing. I have befriended them all and am now at liberty to give them friendly pointers on their calls or lack of them. They are now well versed on when to call charging, although I am not sure the players yet know why they pick up fouls when they plow me over. But one area in which I have made absolutely no progress is traveling.

I have ascertained that the Guatemalan interpretation of the traveling infraction is dependent on the location of the ball and one’s intention with it. If you are in the back or middle court and take a few strides without dribbling then this is considered traveling and almost always called. However, if you are in the frontcourt and want to get a running start to the basket, from say outside the free throw line for example, then there seems to be no limit to the amount of steps you can take without dribbling. Basically if the end result is a shot or you are inside the paint, you can shuffle your feet and walk all over the place without getting called for traveling.

Despite the usually poor officiating, the constant fouling and rules violations, and the overall poor play, I have managed to keep my calm and resign myself to the fact that that is just the way things are here…except on two occasions that is.

The men’s and women’s teams from Playa Grande, a municipality located near the Mexican border, made the 4+ hour journey down to Tactic one afternoon for some games. Unlike in Tactic where all those who play basketball are Ladinos, the Playa Grande team was composed completely of indigenous women (but, no, they do not play in cortes). And they somehow managed to play even dirtier than any of the teams in Tactic.

At one point in the game, I received a pass and was immediately grappled by a little indigenous woman who stood at about my shoulder height. She had literally wrapped herself around my left arm. I shifted the ball to my right arm, and shot pleading glance at the referee imploring, “Are you going to call this?” He didn’t. So I tried to shuck her. I did a very poor job factoring in my size and strength advantage, though, because what I intended to be a slight nudge to free my arm ended up sending her flailing to the ground like a rag doll. The whole crowd collectively gasped in disbelief. But the referee didn’t call a foul, and so, left completely unguarded, I hit an easy 15-foot jumper. I tried helping the woman up after the play, but she not so kindly refused my help. I paid for that “nudge” for the rest of the game.

My second major faux pas occurred when my team traveled to the neighboring municipality of Purulhá in Baja Verapaz to play against their team of teachers. No referees showed up so two of the coaches from the Purulhá team assumed the duties. They did the worst job refereeing I that have experienced in Guatemala and that is saying a lot. Towards the middle of the game my teammate was inbounding the ball after the other team had scored. She took a little while to throw me the ball, and when I received it I proceeded to cross half court, but before doing so the ref blew his whistle and yelled, “¡Tiempo!” I snapped.

I ran over to him and, in a gym that fell completely silent, I left out all by built up frustration. “You do not know how to referee! The time that she had the ball out of bounds does not count towards the 8 seconds [we play by FIBA rules] to cross half court. The time starts the moment I touch the ball, and I know 8 seconds had not passed.”

After I had finally finished my rant about what I perceived as an incorrectly called 8 seconds violation, the referee calmly responded, “It’s halftime, Seño.” Oops.

Even though my team is horrible (we once lost to a team with only four players), I do really enjoy my teammates. Whenever I am having a good shooting game, they always tell me, “¡Tienes pulso [you have a pulse]!” to which I always reply, “Nací con pulso [I was born with a pulse].” This never fails to get a laugh. To end this season, we had a New Year’s Day cookout at my house. The women brought their kids and husbands, and we played football and lacrosse in the yard, danced to Reggaeton songs, and chased the rabbits that live in the adjacent lot. After trying the cookies and Velveeta cheese dip I made, my teammates assured me that I am definitely marriage material (the ability to cook with a processed cheese spread should augment anyone’s desirability).

But now I am faced with a dilemma. The coach of the team that came in second place in the last season has asked me to play with them during the next season that is starting at the end of the month. This team is composed of all teenagers, and quite a few of the girls have impressive natural talent. The coach is really enthusiastic and does a great job with physical training (I attended a number of their practices just for the exercise), and I would love to be able to work with him and teach him and the girls more technical aspects of the game. And I also love winning. But I also feel terrible about deserting my old teammates. I have to make my decision by the end of tomorrow. Anyone who knows me probably knows which way I am leaning.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Derrumbe

This is a picture (from the Prensa Libre) of the landslide in San Cristóbal Verapaz on January 4.
This shot of the derrumbe is from Reuters.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

A Country of Tragedies

A Country of Tragedies” was the title of a recent Prensa Libre news article. The article detailed why Guatemala is considered a country of high risk for natural disasters. Guatemala sits on three tectonic plates, suffers landslides and sinkholes, has an active chain of volcanoes, experiences heavy and prolonged periods of rainfall, and is in the path of tropical storms and hurricanes.

In the time that I have been here, I have seen numerous landslides, experienced a handful of earthquakes, been evacuated twice from my site for hurricanes, experienced nonstop downpours that have lasted for over a week, seen Tactic flood, and watched a couple of volcanoes erupt. And I have only been in Guatemala for a year and a half.

Fortunately excluding the flood, in which some 20 families had to be evacuated from their homes by rescue workers, these other occurrences that I have witnessed were all relatively minor. But a devastating “natural” disaster hit close to home at the beginning of January.

On January 4, a huge landslide, which lasted for 10 minutes, was composed of 10 million metric tons of earth and spanned an area of 1.5 kilometers (just under a mile), occurred on a road just outside of San Cristóbal Verapaz, Alta Verapaz, a neighboring municipality to Tactic. Rescue workers have recovered 38 bodies from the debris, and estimates range from a dozen to more than 50 people still missing. Efforts to search for others were called off yesterday, though, because the area was declared too unstable. Authorities have no hope of finding anyone alive.

The landslide took place on Route 7W on the portion between Chicamán, El Quiché and San Cristóbal. 7W runs from Huehuetenango to Santa Cruz Verapaz, Alta Verapaz and is the only connecting east/west route north of the capital. The road is currently dirt, and there has been ongoing construction for years to pave it (it has been under construction the whole time I have been here).

The Chixoy-Polochic fault line runs under the portion of Route 7W were the landslide occurred (this major fault also runs directly under Tactic), and the government line is that seismic activity on the fault caused the landslide. I am sure the fault was a key factor, but to completely blame the landslide on seismic activity is a major evasion of the truth.

I have been on Route 7W and have passed through the area where the landslide happened. I am not an engineer, but I could tell you after seeing that road, which is being dug out of the side of a mountain in a region where it rains heavily year-round and lies on a fault line, that it was a disaster waiting to happen. And a disaster did happen, but I don’t think it can be categorized as a “natural” one.

A smaller landslide occurred in the same spot of Route 7W on December 14, 2008, killing two people and leaving three other people still missing. That first landslide had blocked the road but it was not “closed” as the BBC, Reuters, and many other news organizations have erroneously reported. Public transportation was still running on the route. Buses would take passengers up to one side of the landslide, everyone would get off the bus and walk the distance of the blocked area, and then they would board another bus on the other side. The people caught in the landslide of January 4 were travelers moving between Alta Verapaz and El Quiché, residents of the surrounding villages, and laborers who work on nearby coffee farms who were crossing the area on foot.

Families from the aldeas (villages) of Aquil Grande, Aquil Pequeño, Los Chorros y La Independencia near the landslide have been evacuated because the area is too unsafe. Many others who live one side of where the landslide occurred are trapped on the opposing side and do not have the financial means to get back home. Now that the area is completely impassable, the only way for people to travel between Chicamán and San Cristóbal is to go south down through the capital and loop back around as shown highlighted in red on the map below. This is a 10+ hour expensive trip.

Local charities are providing food and clothing for the displaced and evacuated. Red Cross workers and police officers from all over Alta Verapaz are hauling unidentified dead bodies from the landslide and placing them in the San Cristóbal cemetery for family members to claim them. Guatemalan officials are planning on changing the path of Route 7W. The whole community of San Cristóbal is in shock and grieving.

This tragedy was not a freak act of nature. It was caused by gross human error. And someone should be held accountable.


Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Navidad Explosiva

Checking out the goods.

Lista.

Don Nico throwing a rocket.

"Wow. That was loud and dangerous."

Don Nico's quick learning apprentice.

Monday, January 5, 2009

My look-alike?

Upon meeting me, Kelly and Mosiah’s neighbors said that I looked like some Hollywood actress, but they couldn’t immediately pinpoint who. I was hoping for the person in question to be any number of the beautiful leading ladies, but after a short discussion, they decided that I look exactly like Xena: Warrior Princess.

I don’t know how much I resemble Xena, but the outfit I was wearing on Christmas Eve was very similar to hers in this picture.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Montoya Family

We took some “family” photos with the chipilín branch Christmas tree.




Saturday, January 3, 2009

Christmas with the Montoyas

Christmas breakfast.

Don Nico's Christmas tree.

Homemade Christmas decorations.

Christmas dinner (a mix of the traditional and the not-so traditional...we couldn't resist picking up the corn on the cob).

Friday, January 2, 2009

Navidad en Salcajá

I spent the second Christmas in a row with my adopted family—the Montoyas. Last year Kelly, Mosiah, and I went to Belize, and this year we celebrated the holiday in their Peace Corps site of Salcajá, Quetzaltenango. Even though the customs are quite a bit different here, it felt a lot more like Christmas than soaking up the sun on a beach in Belize.

In Guatemala more importance is put on Christmas Eve (Nochebuena) than Christmas day. We spent the day with Kelly and Mosiah’s neighbors making tamales and sipping Salcajá’s famous caldo de fruta (a potent alcoholic beverage made from fermented fruit). After a quick trip to Xela and a rejuvenating nap, we returned to the neighbors at 8:00 pm for dinner of tamales and more caldo de fruta. Dinner was followed by a Nochebuena dance party at another neighbor’s house. We danced bachata, merengue, and salsa until midnight when the fireworks display started.

It wasn’t so much a fireworks “display” per say, but more like hundreds of little individual shows. It is a custom in Guatemala for people to shoot off fireworks at midnight on Christmas Eve. Salcajá lit up as fireworks were going off in all directions. Thanks to another one of Kelly and Mosiah’s neighbors, Don Nico, we had our own stash of explosives to play with. Don Nico, who is in his 60s or 70s, looked like a 10-year-old boy throwing firecrackers and launching rockets from his hand. And as can be expected when shooting off fireworks in a residential area, errant rockets were hitting and landing on top of houses. One of the girls was bawling because she thought her house was going to burn down. But Don Nico assured her, “These houses are all made of block. They are indestructible.” He was having so much fun though; I don’t think he would have put away his fireworks even if we were surrounded by houses of paper.

After we exhausted our supply of fireworks, it was time to open the gifts (the family even got me a little cutting board as a present), and we eventually retired after two in the morning.

I stayed with Kelly and Mosiah through the weekend, and while the rest of Christmas was not quite as exciting as Nochebuena, it was just as much fun. We played marathon games of Scrabble (“What does H E mean anyway?”) on the back patio in the sun (it was wonderful to escape form the rain of Alta Verapaz for a while) and watched un montón de movies. And we ate…a lot. Overeating seems to be a universal Christmas tradition.

So, Kelly and Mo, where are we going to spend Christmas next year?

(Just kidding, mom. After a two-year absence, I plan on being home for the holidays in 2009.)

Guatemalan Christmas

Making tamales at the neighbors' house.
A LOT of tamales.

Kelly and Mosiah with the neighbors.
Me with the neighbor and a random gringo (actually this guy is a RPCV who came back to Guatemala to spend Christmas with his Guatemalan friends).

Christmas Eve dance party.