Marion Donovan's Diaper Quest

I love facts! Give me a statistic or little known bit of information any day. My friend Michael gave me one of those 1,001 fact books as my college graduation present and I still cherish that book. So of course my iGoogle homepage has a Useless Knowledge box that gives a new fact every time it reloads. This one I found inspirational and maybe you will too:

With the use of a sewing machine and a shower curtain Marion Donovan succeeded in developing what is considered the first waterproof diaper cover in 1946. Mrs. Donovan was surprised when her prototype for disposable paper diapers was met with ridicule. She journeyed to all the major U.S. paper companies, and was laughed at for proposing such an "unnecessary and impractical" item to replace cotton diapers. After nearly 10 years of pitching her revolutionary idea, Victor Mills had the foresight to capitalize on it, and he became the creator of Pampers.

This woman spent 10 years trying to get someone to believe in her invention! She believed in herself and the potential of her product and pursued her dream with passion. I love that...living with passion!

Walking Into Danger

There truth about the world we live in is that danger is everywhere. Many people express their disbelief about we single women who travel, work and live abroad and the dangers and risks we face being international. The truth is there are dangers everywhere and I often point this out in my defense of living abroad and working in post-war, developing countries. Yet every once in awhile I have to acknowledge when dangerous situations arise and when my being a foreigner is a disadvantage.

My trip to San Marcos La Laguna included one of these moments. Myself and a friend decided to walk to a neighboring village for the day. The walk was about 3 hours and the weather was wonderful. We walked around San Juan, ate lunch and started back on the road to San Marcos. As we reached the edge of town we passed two women carrying a large bundle of wood on their heads. I stopped to ask them about their load and when we finished chatting they suggested we take a tuk tuk the rest of the way. We asked why and they said the road was dangerous.

A man walking the same direction as us agreed with the women and offered to walk with us since he had a matcheti. This made me more nervous but we agreed to walk with him until a tuk tuk passed. As we walked he explained that groups of thieving boys would watch the main street to see when foreigners would leave. They would then run along the mountainside and intercept the travelers on the road to rob them. Eventually a tuk tuk passed and we were able to take it the rest of the way. But it made me realize how vulnerable I was as an outsider and how open for danger I really was. Sometimes a small reminder is helpful and kindness from strangers is always welcome.

Hippies, English and Dogs, Oh My!

There were a few parts of San Marcos La Laguna that I noticed quickly and the thoughts lingered with me: hippies, English and dogs.

I don’t know how many people in San Marcos would descibe themselves as hippies. For lack of a better word I describe the residence of San Marcos as hippies but they are probably more in line with modern granola, tree hugging, spiritualists. And this is not an undercover jab as I eat granola and yogurt every morning and am definitely an environmentalist. But most of the members in this community like to live outside of the system and would not be considered conforming. They were very friendly and I would love to spend more time there getting to know some of the longer-residing people. Everyone has a story and it would be great to hear some of these tall tales.

The one surprising thing about everyone in San Marcos was the fact that they spoke English and hardly anyone spoke Spanish. Living in Xela I have become accustomed to hearing and interacting in Spanish. While my Spanish is far from fluent I am doing okay and able to converse with most people. Yet San Marco operated like it was located in a Western country. Nobody spoke in Spanish or and few people even attempted to learn basic phrases. And everyone assumed you spoke English like we were not in the middle of Guatemala! People would pass you at the market and say hi. Waiters would come up to your table and ask for your order without first asking if you preferred English or Spanish. It was very odd. I asked a few residence what the deal was. Charlie, who lived in Guatemala for 5 years, said Spaanish wasn’t needed in San Marcos and no one felt the need to learn Spanish there. Paul, who has been there for 2 years and owns a restaurant there, said he could get by with basic Spanish and also didn’t have a need to learn more. He didn’t see the need even after I pointed out that all his restaurant help was Guatemalan and his ‘basic’ Spanish was horrible. While I loved San Marcos La Laguna I would recommend anyone who wants to truly practice Spanish avoid this city or go before they start classes.

The dogs in San Marcos were very different from Xela dogs and the first few days I was very unnerved by their presence. Dogs in many developing countries including Guatemala are wild street dogs 99% of the time. Rarely do people own them as pets and if they do thy fall under home security and not man’s best friend. I have noticed that a number of Guatemalan families and you ng adults own pet dogs and walk them in Central Park on leashes and I’ve even seen a sweater or two. Yet these dogs live indoors and would never be roaming the streets. Any dog walking past you on the street is a stray, possible dangerous and not to be touched. Many have been abused and are jumpy around people so in Xela I give them a wide berth when walking past any. About 4 weeks ago I even had a dog bite at me as we passed each other and that definitely left me apprehensive around street dogs.

So imagine my surprise when I get to San Marcos and learn that most street dogs actually ‘belong’ to someone but they are free to roam the streets. These dogs walk into hotel gardens and restaurant seating freely and will even lounge underneath your chair. I still had no intention of petting one of these dogs and made my feelings known everytime they were around and someone nearby started playing with them. While these dogs may have been tamed street dogs they still wandered the paths in little gangs, like Xela dogs, and that similarity will continue to keep me from befriending them.

Trip To Paradise

I took a much needed mini-vacation last week to San Marcos La Laguna. San Marcos is a small community on Lake Attitlan and because of work responsibilities I could not venture very far. So this 4 day trip was perfect since it was only a 2.5 hour chickenbus ride. I have traveled to Lake Attitlan before and visited many of the surrounding towns including Panajachel, Solala, and San Pedro. Yet San Marcos La Laguna was like no place I have ever seen.

To get there I went to the bus terminal here in Xela called Minerva and asked one of the men calling at me which bus was for San Marcos LA LAGUNA. I should explain a few things to set the stage: the bus terminal is like no place any Western ever pictures when they think of bus terminals. Take that image of a Greyhound bus depot and throw it away. To get to the Minerva bus terminal you have to walk through the Minerva market – the largest outdoor market in Xela. So the bus terminal is a branch off from this and a number of vendors spill into the chickenbus section. Now imagine at least 50 yellow school buses, graphitti style painted and you’ll have a better idea of a chickenbus. So there are no information desks, ticket booths, or restrooms. You just walk in the direction of the buses and a number of “assistance” will help you find your bus.

I emphasized the ‘La Laguna’ part of the town’s name because there is another San Marcos that is a small town located near the Mexican border. So to make sure you get on the right bus you have to emphasize that you want the one near the lake which is what La Laguna means. Since I knew there are no direct buses to San Marcos La Laguna I would have to take a bus to San Pedro, get off in San Juan and then take a tuktuk to San Marcos. The ride was nice and the bus was not too overcrowded at any point. That means it never got overwhelmingly stuffed full of people since here in Guatemala it is fine to seat 3 or 4 adults on a bus seat.

Back to explaining San Marcos La Laguna. The community is a completely different world from anything I have ever experienced. It is really a haven for hippies and gringos (white people) since the local Guatemalans live further up the mountain. The entire place is two dirt paths that go up from the dock to the main (and only) road. There you can find a few restaurants, a number of hotels and a lot of yoga and meditation schools. It is a place to get away from city life and relax surrounded by like-minded folks.

I took a yoga and metaphysics class and hiked to a different surrounding village each day. I even was able to visit San Juan La Laguna where one of the cooperative groups is located in the association I work at. Each night I was in bed by 20:30 (8:30pm) and waking up to birds instead of honking cars was quite a change. Unfortunately, like a good dream, this mini-vacay ended way to soon. Before I was prepared to face reality I was taking a launcha (boat) to San Pedro and catching a bus back to Xela. While returning to reality, work and city pollution has not been fun I know that another adventure is a quick chickenbus away and I will not wait another 4 months to get on one.

Life Without FB

I deactivated my Facebook account almost 2 months ago. And life without Facebook has been very interesting these last couple of months. At first I missed being able to read the massive amount of updates and know what was happening with so many people. I missed looking through hundreds of pictures from peoples’ vacations, weddings, and nights out on the town.

Then, after a while, I became comfortable with not logging on and the urge to “Facebook stalk” decreased to now being nonexistent. I realize now the vast amount of time I spent on Facebook and how often I would pop on for a quick update. During those first cold-turkey weeks I became aware of how often I would think of a status update only to then remember that I didn’t have an account to update. I also stopped taking as many pictures since I wouldn’t be creating photo albums for the internet world to view.

That last change is one of the negatives to not being a part of a social network that I didn’t think of before hitting the deactivate button. I didn't take into account/wasn't aware of all the things I would miss. Social networks have become such a part of our everyday lives that people do not report news or send updates any other way anymore. Remembering birthdays is now dependent on the website’s reminder since no one actually writes down birthdays. I almost forgot my grad school roomie’s birthday 2 weeks ago since I didn’t have Facebook reminding me daily. I’ve also missed the status updates of friends who have gone from engaged to married and the overwhelming amount of pictures that suddenly get posted from all our mutual friends who were at the wedding. It’s also harder to feel connected to girlfriends now that I can’t spy their profile for information or see pics of their new boyfriend.

I’ve received plenty of hints, requests, and demands to reactivate my account. And I have a lot of new friends who want to add me and I continually have to explain that I don’t have an account. I’m sure I will reassess the decision in a couple of months after curiosity gets the best of me and my desire to be socially connected through a website is unbearable. But for the time being my account will stay deactivated and my world Facebook-less.

This Fighter Needed To Cry

Today was one of those mornings when throwing in the towel seems like the best option. No really, I pictured myself curled up with one of my favorite old books, eating straight from the Ben & Jerry’s Half-Baked carton, without a care in the world. And this mental image was a plane ride away from being a reality that I could live with.

We all have bad days. We’re human which means we have to deal with personalities and opinions, emotions and stresses, and work to live with other humans on a daily basis. Living and working abroad takes the regular stresses of life and magnifies them. And no matter how long I am international, how many countries and cultures I live in, the various jobs I hold, or how adjusted I get to being an ex-pat there is always one bad day that makes me think of going home early and burning my passport - which I would never really do since they cost too much money to simply burn and the idea of not having one freaks me out (I like the idea that I can flee if necessary Borne/James Bond style)

Back to today: it started great! My yogurt & granola breakfast was filling and extra yummy since I had a piece of watermelon to go with it. I sang along to a number of old favorites while I got ready and the internet worked from the moment I woke up. And my walk was pretty enjoyable since the sun wasn’t unbearable and the streets were relatively free of dust-spewing buses and dog crap (makes walking a very meticulous process some days). I had to make a stop before work to the shop where our textiles are sewn to hand over the labels that had arrived the day before from the US for a very large and important order. Normally my visits to the shop go fine and the owner is amiable. This morning was not to go so well. Let’s just say he made a major mistake with the order and instead of being open to fixing the problem he decided to blame me and then insist that he did not want to work with me anymore. Luckily, after years of unsuccessful attempts, I am the master of my tongue and was able to control my temper. I ended his rant by saying he needed to speak to the women in my office and then marched to work near tears. Explaining what had gone wrong was too much for my emotional damn when I reached the office and I proceeded to cry out all of the stress I’ve felt with this project since July.

I think it was a very healthy cry. Sometimes admitting life is stressful, language barriers suck, and some people are mean is the most human thing you can do. Plus getting hugs and words of encouragement from my little Mayan bosses is a nice reminder that I still have work to do and can’t quit now. And let’s be honest, I’m too much of a fighter to quit!

Guatemala: Part 2

I can hardly believe it has almost been 2 months since I returned to Guatemala. Time truly flies when it wants to. I am again living in Quetzaltenango (more commonly known as Xela). These past couple of months have filled themselves with highs and lows, lots of work, settling into living abroad again, big changes in my life and a renewed determination to live with passion.

I am working as the Program Manager and Volunteer Coordinator at TRAMA Textiles. TRAMA is a women’s weaving association that produces fair trade textiles. It was created after the war in Guatemala and continues to operate to provide a fair income for women within the association. The cooperative consists of 17 groups, made of over 400 women, living in 5 districts within the highlands of Guatemala.

Having first come to Xela in June I am able to appreciate the end of the rainy season that has finally arrived. We are basking in sun-filled days which are perfect with all of the holidays that have occurred this month. Independence Day in September was the kick off for a number of religious and political holidays which have included a week long fair, weekend bazaars, and numerous parades. Although work continues I have also enjoyed walking to the park in the middle of the day to watch school bands compete, the parade for the Virgin Mary, and eating my share of fair/bazaar foods including cotton candy, exotic liquados (smoothie drinks), local candies and churros. I am also growing more excited to spend the Christmas and New Year holidays in Xela now that I have seen how Guatemaltecos party and made a number of long-term friends.

Hope this update appeases the masses, especially those living vicariously through me. I will try my hardest not to be silent and return to filling my blog with stories of my adventures abroad, especially since I am off of Facebook and Gchat. As always thanks for all of the support and love! These last few months were hard but like I always say “no rain, no rainbow!”

Surreal International Moments

I love when a “surreal international moment” happens. They’re little moments in my day to day life abroad that I know I’ll think about in the years to come. Moments when my life seems almost surreal and I giggle at how amazing my adventures are.

I had two “surreal international moments” this week. First I got to kick off the week by watching the World Cup Final on Sunday. As a football fan these last few weeks have been amazing and full of many highs and lows. I even got my homestay mom in on the action by making her watch more football games this month than she’s seen her entire life. Watching the World Cup was also amazing because it took place in South Africa, which is where I was for the last World Cup. Knowing the locations of stadiums and thinking of my friends there has been amazing. And just like the last Cup Final that I watched in Cape Town with Nathan and Nicole this one will be memory emblazed in my brain.

Instead of watching the finale at my house where the 1980s television was not always faithful in showing the picture (missed a red card and a goal because of the tv’s antics) I decided to go to a local spot to watch the match. It was amazing! Close to Parque Central is a street-long building with 4 separate restaurants that each has indoor-outdoor seating. They kind of function as one part and get lively and two of the restaurants are owned by a Dutch couple so I knew the game would be shown there. I arrived at 11am to join friends and grab a spot near one of the televisions even though the game was showing at 12:30pm. I am so happy I went when I did because that place got packed. It was one of those moments that make you grateful for fire marshals because you’re pretty sure the crowd level is unsafe. I can gratefully say that the lack of crowd laws was not put to the test and the day went well. And I will take with me the mental image of a sea of orange pro-Dutch fans and red and yellow pro-Spain fans crammed into a city block in Guatemala. We may have originated in different countries and held varying reasons for supporting each team but that day we were united in our love of football and the common desire for entertainment. And we were definitely entertained!

My second “surreal international moment” was on Monday with a very different crowd. I sat in the first of many meetings this week and to come with some of the current volunteers of TRAMA Textiles – the newest organization to add me to the volunteer roster. It was a brainstorming meeting for a major activity happening over the next few months within the organization (details not important). What is important is who was in this meeting. I was surrounded by 6 amazing, educated, independent, under 30 women who each represented various countries and cultures. It was like a mini-UN in an all-natural café in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala!

There were 3 women from Europe representing France, Germany and Belgium. The other 4 chicas all represented North America and although 3 of us were from the US we still represented vastly different cultures. From Canada there was an Indian (from India) girl and representing the US was a European/Caucasian American, a Guatemalan American and yours truly, an African American. It was one of those moments too good for my brain to pass over. Here I was with women from all over the world who were all interested in working with women in Guatemala. Life truly can be beautiful!

Their Wedding Day Is My Wedding Rant

My friends Michael and Michelle are getting married today! This is especially exciting for me since I played a large role in connecting them. Unfortunately, I am still in Guatemala and not Florida so I am not at the wedding (which I was suppose to be in but had to pull out of). Instead I get to stalk Facebook, which is much harder with my limited internet access, over the next few days hoping one of our friends post some pictures.

As I think about their wedding and the beauty and amazement that weddings possess I must admit that I am a little relived to not be there. Don't get me wrong, I want to be there with everything in me. I even considered buying a very late, very expensive plane ticket this week until I reminded myself that I am a grad student and don't have the luxury of whims yet. My relief is due to the fact that I dread a few parts of wedding receptions. Two parts in fact:

I hate being asked/told that I am next.

And

I hate being forced to try and catch the bouquet!

Let's start with the statement/question that someone will ask at every wedding reception I attend. Why do people feel the need to even make this comment? I will be married when I am ready. Right now I am bouncing around the planet like a mad hater anyway so it's partially a game of "catch me if you can" anyway. Yes, I really am thinking of remaining in one spot for longer than a year and am mentally preparing for the Spring when I will 'hopefully' be
getting a place of my own and a job back home. But for now I am enjoying the freedom that comes with being unmarried and childless. Let's see some of my married friends explain to their spouse that they suddenly have the urge to travel with an open-ended ticket. Imagine some of my friends with kids announcing that they are leaving everyone and everything to live abroad for 6 months.

I think people should encourage me to do this for as long as I am comfortable instead of making me feel abnormal for being unattached. And it's not like I don't want to be married...one day. I just think this is a great time to explore the world and learn about myself and how I can be a part of changing it. So please, enough with the when are you getting married questions. You'll know I am getting married when Facebook says I am engaged. And maybe, if you don't harass me, you will be lucky enough to receive an invite.

Now onto these stupid flowers that I am suppose to catch. Why, seriously, why am I catching these flowers that the bride didn't even carry because this is her cheap, to-be-tossed bouquet? If I am not ready to be the next one married the last thing I want to do is go catch her bouquet. In the short term whichever creapy, half drunk guy or 10 year old kid catches the garter will then be putting that thing on me in front of everyone (public humiliation anyone?). In the long term catching the bouquet is suppose to indicate you are the next one getting married and if I am not ready I really shouldn't hinder the one bridesmaid desperate to catch that thing. Plus I don't want to be called out as one of the "not married girls" which is now how they title it since many of us are no longer single (in the sense that we have boyfriends) or pretend we do when at weddings.

Really I would appreciate not being interrogated about my relationship status. Let's enjoy the couple we are there to celebrate and the overpriced wedding taking place. Badgering me for answers and my relationship details is really just distracting you from getting a big piece of dry wedding cake and taking blurry photos. I'll go ahead say that for my wedding I will not toss the bouquet but will give it to the longest married couple in attendance. Plus I want to keep my garter in place for a more private viewing!

La Princesa de Guatemala

I am happy to announce that I am the newly crowned princess of Guatemala! Bet you never thought you knew a princess. The local senoras at my school recently made the discovery and crowned me (unofficially of course) as La Princesa de Guatemala.

Here's the backstory: As you probably know my name is Shayla Livingston. Xela (spelled differently but pronounced the same) is the city I live in and Livingston is a city in the north of Guatemala near the Belize border. It's weird enough being here with such an odd name. People give me the funniest stares when I answer the question of what is my name. To add to the curiosity that is me I am also African America or a negrita to the locals. To saw that I am getting lots of attention is an understatement...people are loving me here! I won't quote all of the quite flattering comments I get from the chicos and the ladies just want to caress my face.

Anyway, in Livingston the main population consists of a tribe called the Garifuni. To put it simply they are Guatemalans of African descent but their full history includes slaves from the Caribbean (check them out on Wikipedia for more info). In Xela and other parts of Guatemala it is believed that seeing a Garifuni person outside of the city of Livingston is a sign of good luck and other possibilities. So I am now one of the most interesting people in Xela and since my name is easy enough to remember for everyone I have made a lot of friends quick.

So you can now join the group of senoras at my school and call me La Princesa!

Shayla es en Xela!

Shayla is in Xela (pronounced shay-la) get it! I finally, I repeat FINALLY, made it to Guatemala. After way to many obstacles I am sitting in La Cafetera.net and sipping a chocolate con leche (chocolate with milk).

This has already been an amazing experience. I rode a 4 hour bus from Guatemala City to Quetzaltenango aka Xela which was quite the re-immersion in cross-cultural driving. And for the last 24 hours I have only understood 21% of any conversation I have had. Literally, the little old lady who is my family here speaks no English! It is great! I have no where to go but up plus my brain hurts from 5 hours of class this morning so I must be learning something already.

Well this is all of the English I am allowing myself and will spend the evening making flash cards and remembering/learning as many vocabulary words and verbs as I can.

¡Hasta luego!

Where in the world am I?

How does one update a blog after 6 months of silence? I will give you a two word answer that hopefully explains everything: grad school. Really I should say it was the end of grad school that has kept me very busy and at times holding onto a sliver of sanity. Since my program is an accelerated program in which we take all of our academic courses in one year this Spring semester has felt like my final year. I have taken 44 graduate level credits in 2 semesters, whereas some of my friends in traditional grad school programs have take 9 credits per semester.

The reason my program operates this way is to allow us to use our second year to participate in a practicum or professional internship. As academically complete graduate students, with international experience under our belts, we get to join organizations and work alongside staff members instead of being interns who fetch coffee and send mail. I haven't secured my practicum opportunity yet (not from a lack of trying) but am hopeful that an opportunity I am interviewing for in Honduras works out. I'll keep you all updated.

The real news in my overdue update is that I am heading off on a summer adventure! I will be leaving for Guatemala in 5 days! I really love my life!! I booked a ticket yesterday to go to Guatemala on Sunday. Who does that? I have been planning on going to study Spanish since last summer but was slightly delayed in making that a reality. But now I am off to study Espanol inQuetzaltenango, which is commonly called Xela (pronounced Shay-la). That's right, I am going to live in a city that has the same name as myself! When I first contacted the school there they asked me how I got a Mayan name. I had to explain that my name was spelled differently but pronounced the same. They really got a kick out of this and I have been told by everyone familiar with the city that the local people are going to love it.

Hopefully, this will be the beginning of regular blogging on my part once again. I'll try to update on my experience and any travel opportunities that show themselves.

Hasta luego!