110-13

110-13: the final score by which we won a basketball game in the new league that started about two months ago.

I defected from my old team, and now I am playing with a bunch of teenagers, or las patojas as I call them. I felt guilty about leaving my old team at first, but not anymore (well, maybe still a little). It sure feels a lot better to be giving beatings instead of taking them (although my old team was never shamed by nearly 100 points). And the girls are a lot of fun to play with. The best player among them is a 13-year-old who has twice been selected in her age bracket to play for the Guatemalan national team in an Americas tournament.

The aforementioned score occurred in a game against Las Mamitas, a team composed of 40-50 year-old women with absolutely no skills whatsoever. We played a full court press against them…for the whole game. Yes, it was ruthless, but it was not my call. It was the rare occasion when they were actually able to get the ball past half court, and I felt extremely sorry for them. That is until I was threatened.

While going for a steal, I batted the ball away with my right hand and in the process accidentally bumped a woman from behind with my left shoulder. Now in any game on American soil it would have been called a foul, but here in Guatemala with the violent style of basketball that is played, it could barely be considered a love tap. Thus it was not called, we scored a layup, and I returned to my post at half court for the press.

As I mentioned in a previous post about playing basketball in Guatemala, it is game of vengeance. It’s personal. For every foul, steal, or block there is a price to pay. So I was met at half court by the “wronged” woman with a message. She got in my face and said, “You want to push? You want to play dirty? You are going to find out what is it like to be pushed.”

And indeed I, and the rest of my teammates, did get a good lesson on what it is like to be pushed. They started just dropping their shoulders and ramming people. During rebounds I would just get unexpectedly (well, at first it was unexpected) rocked from behind. And being that I am a good six inches taller than anyone on their team and there is nothing diminutive about the size of these women, the brunt force of their stout frames would fall right on the small of my back.

Will Peace Corps be liable to pay for any possible permanent damage to my back as a result of playing basketball here?

We played our second round game against this team a couple of weeks ago. We won 107-28…without playing a press. I think there was some held over anger from the last game because the dirty play started right from the beginning. Even before the game got underway, one of the referees pulled me aside to say, “You’d better watch your back. These women are muy peleoneras (very quarrelsome).”

Isn’t that your job? Aren’t you supposed to watch my back and prevent the game from getting out of hand? He didn’t.

Regardless of where I was on the court in relation to the ball, there was a little woman (in height not in weight) assigned to take cheap shots on me. I suffered countless charley horses as women rammed their butts into my thighs as I tried to go around them. It surely made for an interesting game constantly having to be prepared to sustain a blow while at the same time participating in the offense.

The regular season of the league has now finished and the bracket for the single elimination finals is currently being drawn up. I hope we don’t have to play Las Mamitas again. I’m not sure my body can handle another game against them.

Vultures

Campur

Heading out of "the Camp"
Endless hills.

Maximizing the terrain for farming.

Gilligan, we'll miss you

It’s that time again—a volunteer group is leaving while another one is taking its place. And now nearly two years after we started this adventure called Peace Corps, my group is now the seniors. We are the veterans, the old hands, the next group to be heading out the door. Where has the time gone?

My sitemate, Michelle, is a member of the departing group (the “Healthy Schoolers”), but she has decided to extend her service for a couple of months. I’ll have to put up with her crazy for a little while longer (I love you Michelle!). But my good friend Jill Geissler (or Gilligan as she has been called…the “j” sound does not exist in Spanish and Guatemalans have an extremely difficult time trying to pronounce her name) is leaving in less than a week.

Jill often made the 2 ½ hour trip from her small community of Campur to the big city of Tactic to hang out with Michelle and me. Twice she was evacuated from her site because of disturbances (most recently this past week) and stayed at my house (aka. the refugee camp) for extended periods of time. Lots of listening to Joe Purdy. Lots of watching Grey’s Anatomy.

We are going to miss you, Jill. Alta will not be the same without you.

Mizzou-RAH!

The Tigers are now in the Elite 8 after knocking off Memphis tonight! Now as an alumna of the University of Missouri, I know better than to get my hopes up. I am more than accustomed to disappointment, failure, and underachieving when it comes to our athletic teams (this past football season would be a good example). But, nevertheless, I am cautiously optimistic.

¡Vamos equipo!

Soy una tia...otra vez

My brother Ryan and his wife Anne just had their first child yesterday (March 22). His name is William Trippler Griffin. I became an aunt for the first time in May of 2007 when my niece, Reilly, was born, and now William is my first nephew.

Congratulations Ryan and Anne! I am so happy for the two of you. I wish I could be there to see the new little guy in person! I can’t wait to meet him.

W

I wouldn't expect to see this sticker on a Windshield in Guatemala.