Anyways, as promised, I have been reflecting on my experience this summer and the “things I learned”. I haven’t been keeping a journal so this will serve as my own personal memory as well.

I feel like throughout the years, through all my travels, I’ve “seen” poverty. Starving babies in Ethiopia, orphans in Honduras, beggars in the cities, etc. However, this summer, I feel as though I “experienced” poverty. True, I did go back to a hotel at night (which certainly was not luxury) and usually got a hot meal in me at least once a day. However, all day everyday I dealt with the frustrations and discomfort of public transport, talked to people about their lives and struggles, was welcomed into dirt floor, tin-roofed, and metal-walled homes and offered a coke (when they clearly did not have much to offer), suffered from a lack of access to clean water and sanitation, experienced the long daily travels people must make just to get to the store, etc. etc.

Most of all, however, I got to see different ideas on how poverty is perceived throughout a developing country. In my first assignment, while working purely with indigenous Maya in the highland regions, I experienced what one would call true poverty. Lots of subsistence farming, lack of access to sanitation and water, 10 children per family, malnutrition, pure isolation, the effects of racist policies, hardly any assets, etc. However, these women would always preface a response to my question with “Thank God I’m alive, but ….”.

In my second assignment, I worked on the southern coast and eastern border regions with only Ladina women (native Spanish speakers). These women were still poor (as our thorough data analysis shows) however this poverty was not as obvious as the poverty of the indigenous women. They were living in more urban or peri-urban areas with more access to transport, markets, communications, etc. They had more assets, spoke the dominant language, were generally slightly obese, had less children, and generally seemed wealthier. However, because they had more access to transport, communications, etc. they had more of a sense of being in poverty. In contrast to the indigenous women, they prefaced their responses with “We’re poor, we have nothing, but…”

I would always get frustrated with the women in the second assignment when they said “we’re poor, we have nothing” or “there are days when we don’t have enough food for the family” but then would go on to say they have 2 color televisions and are paying 100 quetzales a month (about $12.50) for cable. But, as my teammates and I discussed, we realized that poverty is a relative term. Perceptions of poverty vary based on your level of connection with the outside world– if you have a TV and watch American television shows, you are painfully aware of how people in the west live and perceive this to be the reality. If you are living in a very poor isolated mountain community without electricity, you are not aware of how others live. The indigenous fit the definition of poverty we all use, however the ladina women had a different perception of their own poverty and had different situations to deal with. Sure, they might have cable because everyone else does and it’s relatively cheap, but they are food insecure because they don’t have land. They suffer from gang violence and constantly live in fear of being robbed or attacked. They don’t receive as much attention from NGOs and aid organizations as they are perceived as not being as disadvantaged as the indigenous. There are many different factors that determine one’s well-being and poverty, and the contrast between my first and second assignments this summer in Guatemala made me aware of that.

To continue the ranting, I was procrastinating yesterday and made a nice long list of things I will NOT miss about my summer experience in Guatemala. Here are a few of them: Ranchero music, dangerous cities/constant fear of being kidnapped, chicken buses (see previous post photo- “this is how we travel”), cockroach-laden hotels, my immune system revolting against me, extreme climate changes on a daily basis, not eating all day until 7 pm at night, people trying to rip you off constantly, and getting stranded for hours on end on the side of the highway. However, there are many things that I actually will miss. These things require a bit more reflection—I promise the “How this experience changed my life” blog is coming shortly.

And finally, why are there so many damn hippies here, lounging around on the streets in their hemp and bare feet? I see the same ones day in and day out. And why are they always in the major tourist hubs with quintessential hippie luxuries like Thai curry and organic spinach? If you really want to be a hippie and reject western materialism, go live in some random mountainside community away from hordes of Americans and massive Japanese tour groups. Grow your own food, make your own jewelry, ride a bike, and walk around barefoot there. Honestly guys…

Happy Wednesday! : )

When you don’t know how to get somewhere, ask at least 5 people. They will probably give you 5 different answers. Pick the one that sounds best or safest and requires the least amount of standing on the side of highways.

A smile goes a long way… unless it’s a creepy man.

When on a public bus, always sit next to a woman, student, or friendly-looking old man and exchange pleasantries. That way, people think you are friends and won’t rob you. Also, he/she can help you find your way and tell you what the bus fare actually should be.

When hitch-hiking, only hop on a pick-up with at least 2 women. NEVER get in a vehicle with only men, especially not just young men.

Always carry money in various places—sock, bra, or shoe should have the majority of the cash on you, but always have a small amount for bus fare or enough to please a thief in your pocket. About $10 should do.

When someone asks where I’m from, I generally just say Los Angeles or Hollywood. Usually I don’t say the United States straight up because people tend to have strong opinions one way or the other on the US. Also, a fair number of people don’t know US cities and might think the city is a separate country itself. Or, if you’re in Latin America, they will list off all of their family members who are illegally living in the L.A. area. Good conversation starter.

Never eat anything off the street that cannot be peeled or washed. Meat, I mean “meat”, is an absolute no-no (although my teammate eats it without any problems…).

If I’ve learned anything over the past two months, it is better to be safe than sorry. If someone offers you food or drink in their home, don’t try to be a martyr and accept it, no questions asked. Ask them if they used bottled water, and if not, don’t eat or drink it. You will regret it. You can also just say you are sick already or that your religion doesn’t allow you to eat that kind of food.

When wandering around an isolated community by yourself (as most westerners do when they come to Latin America), always say hello, good morning, how are you, etc. to everyone that passes. Pretend like you know exactly where you’re going. If you are absolutely lost, find a woman and ask for help.

When in a dicey looking area, never look at a map, tour book, etc. First of all, you look like an idiot. Secondly, people know those books. It makes you an even easier target. And thirdly, speak the local language.

Always try to haggle for hotel prices, especially if staying more than one night. Make sure to see a few rooms because they can vary a lot. And NEVER pay up-front. That increases your chances of getting things stolen tenfold as they are less accountable to you after you pay.

And that´s where my interesting story for the day comes in to play. Today, we went to several communities outside of the city, one of them very isolated and obviously very very poor. We got off the bus, hiked a bit, and arrived at a home with dirt floor and adobe walls. Children everywhere with ragged clothes and no shoes, I think there were six of them under age 13. It was noon when we arrived, none of them were in school. The family obvious dedicated themselves to subsistence farming and agriculture as they had several chickens and a pig running around as well as a small garden and some corn. The six year old was cooking a meager lunch of beans and tortillas when in came a random gringa and a loan officer.

All of the sudden, the loan officer begins scolding the women for not paying. Apparently there have been problems with 2 women in this community who have not paid three months in a row now. However, she didn´t just scold them. She proceeded to tell the women that I am from the headquarters office in the United States and they sent me to make sure these women pay their debts. She told them they are accountable to me and that I will be waiting in the office for their payments in two days (before the month closing– a key time for the loan officers). The women apologized but explained how they tried to pay at the bank and they gave them a piece of paper. What it said, they had no idea. They can´t read or write and didn´t know they didn´t pay. They also proceeded to explain how they can´t pay because recent heavy rains have prevented them from harvesting crops and going to the market to sell them. They asked for more time, but the loan officer insisted that I have to receive the money before Wednesday or there will be big problems.

I stood there, speechless. The whole family stared at me with angry, yet desperate eyes. I couldn´t contradict the loan officer, they obviously had not paid and were having major financial problems and she was clearly using my as the bad guy. What a horrible feeling. Microfinance is meant to help the poor and vulnerable, but if they don´t pay, the loan officers suffer. Central offices put immense pressure on the women to force clients to pay however possible so they have 0 debt at the end of every month. There really is no forgiveness for natural disasters, health issues, and other major problems that make it impossible for one to pay. I left the meeting confused and frustrated.

“Why did you tell them I came from the Washington office”, I asked. The loan officer then told me about the major debt these women were in and how the last time she visited to remind them to pay, the husband of one woman threatened her and pushed her. So, apparently that´s why she wanted me to be the bad guy. She also explained again the major pressures being put on loan officers to have zero debt at the end of every month. There´s no room for forgiveness in the system, she said. Later that afternoon, I interviewed a former client who said the same thing. The woman had major health costs after complications with the birth of her daughter. She was not able to pay her loan for that month and the loan officer threatened at her until she finally found a neighbor to lend her some money at an outrageous interest rate.

Is microfinance truly helping if there´s no forgiveness built into the system? Recent heavy rains and landslides left 10 clients in this office homeless, with nothing but the clothes on their backs. At this point, there has been no forgiveness for these women– I believe they are supposed to pay in two weeks. But, how is one supposed to pay when living in a refugee camp at a church? Today definitely has left me questioning microfinance, or at least how this organization is run. Industry pressure to become a “sustainable institution” is ridiculous. MBAs in their air-conditioned Washington offices have absolutely no idea what happens here on the ground and put immense pressures on country directors, who in turn put immense pressure on loan officers, who in turn force women with major life problems to pay.

Is it possible for a bank on the road to sustainability to maintain its social mission and truly serve the poor?

I promise that is the last of my whining for today…

A more exciting and positive message to come tomorrow.

Mid-day Dehydration in Escuintla: Bad food combined with dehydration on a 90 degree cloudless day lead to me randomly passing out in a tin-walled and tin-roofed house in La Estancia (a peri-urban community) for about an hour and a half. I woke up, a cold cloth recently placed on my head by the client, only to notice the entire family was out on the porch eating lunch. Not everyday you come home from the sugar plantation for lunch to find a blond girl sleeping in your bed…

Hotel Fun in Santa Lucía: While finishing up data cleaning on a fine Thursday evening, a nice man came to my door. Of course, I said come in thinking it was a maid or teammate. But, alas, it was a random security guard (I think from the hotel, though I’m not totally sure) coming in to check on my toilet to make sure it was working. He was carrying a very large rifle and a pistol as well. I really didn’t think twice about the situation, but a day or so later, I thought- what if this had happened in the US??? Although possibly it’d be okay in Texas.

Shoes getting half burnt off by lava on an active volcano: Self-explanatory.

Interviewer to Interviewee?!?: While enjoying my weekend alone in Antigua, I met a lovely Israeli couple on a month long honeymoon in Central America. One thing lead to another and next thing I know I am being interviewed by the woman who happens to be the daughter of a controversial right-wing Israeli Parliament member. Apparently she’s interviewing one person in every country she visits in Central America for the Hebrew equivalent of National Geographic.

Water Pipe-line Festivities, all in Ma’m: One of the more helpless moments in my life. I arrived at a community center in the central highlands to interview a few clients only to finish two hours later and walk outside in the midst of a huge town celebration. About 200 indigenous families from this small village came to the community center to cook stew and celebrate the arrival of a new water pipeline from a spring in the mountains. Unfortunately, none of them spoke Spanish and I did not speak a word of their language, Ma’m. So there I sat, nodding and smiling, and they nodding and smiling back. Good fun.

Everyday of my life here: Being the most random pale blond girl ever on public buses and the beds of pick-up trucks in places white people never go.

More than likely you won´t hear from me until next weekend, hopefully with more adventures to share. Have a great week!

On a personal level, I realized this week just how much I have learned in the past couple of weeks. My Spanish has definitely improved (and I have replaced my Caribbean accent with a slower paced Guatemalan accent). I have become totally comfortable just wandering around small communities by myself looking for clients, asking passersby and whatnot. I can get absolutely anywhere with a combination of public tranportation and hitch-hiking. I can do a 126 question interview in 20 minutes flat. But most importantly, because I have been going out without loan officers help, I have learned to really get to know and trust the clients for the day or so I am in their communities. The women have been so helpful, walking me to other client´s homes to interview them, offering me food, offering me a bed (when I fear I may be stranded for the night or when I am not feeling so great), and most of all, just hanging out and chatting about life. Not many westerners have an opportunity like this, to see these communities, spend time in the women´s houses, and have chats about Guatemala, their business goals, US immigration policy, family, life plans, etc. etc. It´s really something incredible…

More to come soon, for now, off to finish data cleaning!