May de Mayhem

I had a dream the other night that I was eating a chicken salad sandwich from Panera Bread. I was sitting there in the air-conditioned restaurant staring at this beautiful creation slathered on sourdough bread. I took a bite and felt like I was entering the gates of heaven. Then I woke up and realized that I live in Guatemala and the closest Panera Bread is a good few thousand miles away. I almost started crying. I may have thrown a bit of a temper tantrum and thrashed around in my bed for a good ten seconds, cursing my life and wishing I could go buy a decent breakfast. But who hasn’t done that in their two years of Peace Corps service? I resorted to eating my usual eggs and rice…yet again. I know, I know…poor Peace Corps volunteer…can’t get a sandwich at the corner restaurant. But alas, this is the life I signed up for. I guess I knew what I was getting in to. But I had no idea that I would fantasize about walking through the aisles of Target or simply hoping in my car and filling it up with a $50 tank of gas. I literally catch myself daydreaming about walking through Wal-Mart and buying vegetables I won’t have to wash in bleach later. Who would have thought, at 24, I would be daydreaming about grocery shopping? A tad bit pathetic.

Other than fantasizing about eating without fear of getting parasites, I have also been doing some occasional development work. The Nebaj healthy schools program is off to a running start this year. Kurt and I kicked it off by visiting our schools and giving the teachers ideas on how to emphasize healthy habits in their curriculums. It is always an interesting experience standing up in front of thirty elementary school teachers and telling them (in broken Spanish) why it is important for their students to brush their teeth and wash their hands. You kind of feel like a complete jerk being a 24 year old volunteer with questionable language skills telling people your way is better than theirs. But I don’t think they look at it that way…at least I hope not. Other than health lessons, we have also enjoyed the adventure of having a healthy corner competition between all of our teachers. This experience has been an interesting and exhausting one. Each teacher had to create a place in their classroom that is considered a “healthy corner”. The kids had to have a toothbrush, toothpaste, towel, soap and washbowl and the teachers had to make creative, eco-friendly places for the kids to put each of their things. So Kurt and I gave the teachers two months to create works of art in their classrooms. Then we visited each classroom to judge which teacher had the best corner. 153 teachers equals 153 classrooms which equals 153 times we had to judge healthy corners. This was the most tiring thing I have done since being in the Peace Corps. But after two weeks of getting up early and going to sleep late, we finished the visits. I was very proud of some of my teachers and very disappointed in others. But you win some and you lose some. Hopefully the teachers who didn’t have very good healthy corners will be inspired by those who did phenomenal jobs. This week we will announce the winners and hopefully have a party with the classroom who had the best.

What else is going on in my life? Well, unfortunately I have been sick for three weeks now. Sounds awful huh? You’re right, it is. It all started one Friday morning when Kurt and I were about to head to school. We were sitting there waiting on a microbus when I felt a monster crawling around in my stomach. I knew there was no way I would make it on a bumpy road to school, so I headed home and spent the rest of the day in pain and unfortunately having diarrhea. Too much information huh? Well, the one thing you learn being a Peace Corps volunteer is that there is no shame in talking about your bowel movements. It is common everyday lunch conversation. Sad, but literally true. Anyway, I spent the next four days feeling like death and taking antibiotics for what I was told was a bacterial infection. The drugs seemed to work because, by Wednesday, I was feeling better. I thought it was the end of my misery. Then what I like to call “Throw-up Thursday” came along. I woke up at 4am on Thursday morning and threw up. Unfortunately, Kurt and I had to leave at 5:30 to take a chicken bus to visit a school. After my first trip to the bathroom, I was feeling better. You know when you vomit and then your stomach tries to tell you it feels a lot better but in reality it is a stupid, lying, malicious stomach that only teases you and then pushes bouts of horrible nausea in your direction? Yeah. That happened. Here I was minding my own business, sitting on a chicken bus, when what happens? Vomit #2! Luckily it wasn’t projectile. Instead, it got all over my hands and I wanted to die. I’m sure the lady sitting next to me also wanted me to die. Regrettably, this time my stomach didn’t even feel like deceiving me by giving me twenty minutes of relief from nausea. Nope, I continued to feel like death and as we inched closer to the school, I prayed that I could keep from getting sick until I got off the bus. Thankfully, my prayers were answered. I made it to the side of the road before vomit #3 crept up. As I held my hair and Kurt rubbed my back, I stood on the side of the road in the mountains of Guatemala and heaved in a ditch. Bet not many of you can say that huh? Jealous right? We went to school and did our job and I didn’t throw up the rest of the day. Friday came around and I still felt awful but there was no vomiting. Saturday went the same. Here I thought I was getting better. Stupid, lying, malicious stomach. Sunday is what I like to call “Second Round Sunday”. At least this time I was in my house and not on a chicken bus. At this point, I decided to call our medical office who told me to eat antacids and take Dramamine. Failure of advice. It worked for about five minutes. And then I started up again. I was getting desperate. So I went to my host mom and she told me that she would take me to the Nebaj hospital. And that is where the real adventure begins….

When you think of a hospital, you imagine perfect white walls, the smell of antiseptic, cleanliness, fresh looking doctors in pressed white coats. Yeah you ain’t getting any of that in Guatemala. The national hospitals all give free health care to anybody that walks through the door (even gringas). People here cannot pay for healthcare, so it is funded by the government. But it isn’t funded well enough. So there are overcrowded waiting rooms, overworked doctors and horribly unsanitary facilities. My first adventure with Guatemalan healthcare was one that I hope never to repeat. We got to the hospital emergency room and the doctor was not there. So we waited an hour. We decided to sit outside because the emergency room was filled with people with who knows what and none of us really wanted to breathe the tuberculosis tainted air. After an hour, we walked through a door where the doctor was waiting to take my stats. The room consisted of a desk and two gurneys that were separated by a sheet. Patients just knocked on the door and came and went when they wanted. Patient-confidentiality was non-existent and privacy was not on the priority list. I told him my information and then climbed onto a gurney next to a woman who had passed out. The nurse came and took my blood while I tried not to faint or think about whether or not it was a dirty needle. She took my blood and I escaped without slipping into unconsciousness. Next step, peeing in a cup. Of course I have lived in Guatemala for a year so I knew the bathroom would have no toilet paper (if they can’t afford a secretary to take your stats, I can see why toilet paper doesn’t make the shopping list). Luckily, I brought my own. Took care of that and then the waiting started again. My host sister and I sat there for what felt like another hour and then we were called back to the sonogram room. My host sister was convinced I was pregnant so the baby jokes began. The doctor squeezed the cold jelly onto my stomach and then used a sonogram machine from what must have been 1985 to check all of my organs. After a few minutes he said everything was fine, I wasn’t pregnant and then it was back to waiting for my test results. My host sister left and I was on my own. I finally got my results and the doctor told me I “probably” have an infection but he doesn’t know where. He told me to get on the gurney because the nurse was going to give me a shot in the butt. As I laid there staring at the rusty sink, I was trying to figure out what he was giving me a shot of. I think he said vitamins but my Spanish wasn’t translating and I had no clue. He gave me the shot and a prescription and sent me on my way.

You know when you go through an experience and then when it is over you turn around, look back and think “did that really just happen?” Well that is how I felt when I left the hospital. I bought the antibiotics and started taking them. I started to feel better for a while. Then I made the mistake of telling the Peace Corps doctor what I did. Apparently, taking medical advice from the locals is a big No No! He told me to stop taking the pills and everything should get better. Well doc, I threw up twice today. So things aren’t getting better. I have an appointment on Friday with the Peace Corps doctor and hopefully I can get this thing figured out. Because I feel like I might have gotten those brain worms after all. JUST KIDDING. I hope.

To sum up, life in Guatemala is still an adventure. Healthy corners, dirty hospitals and dreams about sandwiches. Whose life isn’t like this? If it isn’t…just join the Peace Corps.