Yesterday went out to the Pacific coast to a little village called Venecia where my friend Jose's family lives. I met Jose when I volunteered a spell with No More Deaths in Nogales, Mexico, as he attempted to cross the border north. This was June of last year and so I was headed to Guatemala for the summer with Dragons. Jose gave me his family's phone number in order to visit them. My first visit to Venecia was in July of last year... and a whole other story... but to get to the point, I visited them again in December and then this weekend. The first time I brought a picture I had snapped of Jose in Nogales; they hadn't seen him in 6 years. Then I saw Jose again in Seattle in December, just before going to Guatemala and brought him pictures of the summer visit. Then in Guate brought pics of seeing Jose in December... You get the point. I transport pictures. But it was all good and really cool to connect Jose and his family.

Venecia is right on the ocean. I had no idea the first time I visited. The family just said, Wanna go to the river? I was like, Oh heck yes (it is really, really hot there) and then as we walked toward the "river" I heard big, booming waves. River = ocean. Each time I go to Venecia it is really hard. It is super hot, there are giant flying bugs, mosquitoes and it is really hot (it is worth mentioning twice). And Venecia is banana-ville. Driving in (took the Land Cruiser this time!) there is nothing but banana, plantain and African palm. The last hour or so there are no villages, just huge farms for export, packing plants and Dole trucks. There is one village just off the main road from Tiquisate down to the beach El Semillero, called Bolivia, then no villages until the beach where you run into Los Tiestos, El Jardin and finally, Nueva Venecia. The villages are small, houses are made of wood, thatched roofs, people wear the minimum: flip flops, shorts, a tank top. Some houses are made of block. There are few cars, mostly motorcycles and bikes. There are hammocks in front of houses and stores and someone is always in them.

In Venecia and the other villages, no one owns any land to work on. All the land belongs to some big landowner for entirely export crops, except platano, I think those stay here. Last night we went to visit the grandparents, Herman and Margarita, who are really old. Or at least really old looking. They live in a house that is almost entirely outside. The kitchen outside and covered by a thatched roof, grandma cooks on an open fire. There are at least five dogs just chillin'. Herman and Margarita are some of the sweetest, most lovely people I have met in Guatemala. I can hardly understand a word they say. I forgot to mention, the coastal folks speak a type of Spanish that is hard for me to understand, it is way fast, they use different words and don't necessarily pronounce all the sounds in the words. It's so beautiful to hear.

I want to understand every single thing they say, but I just can't yet. Herman was telling me last night about working in the fields as a kid, earning 30 or 40 centavos about 50 years ago. In the US in 1960 minimum wage was $1. So, in today's cash, that's like Guatemalan's making US 12 cents to an American's wage of $1, at that time. It is worse today with Guatemala's "minimum wage" of 50 quetzales a day (about $6) vs. our $7.50 an hour (current state of NM minimum wage) - a whole day's work for what you could make in less than an hour in the US. I might add that 50 quetzales a day, although min. wage, is above what workers are actually paid.

Herman said he remembers the wages that low in Guatemala but mostly remembers the years and years working for 1 quetzal per day, or about 12 cents. He says, It was hard back then, as he sits in his chair in the heavy heat surrounded by his family waving towels around to keep the mosquitoes away. Herman worked every day in his life since he was 7 years old and I'm sure I have earned more in my 30 years than he has in his 70+ years, and far easier. There are no floors in his house, he has no car, no watch, wears a pair of old shoes torn up on the bottoms. He talked about the 1954 coup by the CIA, not with any political opinion or anything, but just to mark the years. I don't think the 36 year civil war reached Venecia, but I'm not entirely sure. But between Herman's stories and the stories of Rodolfo, Jose's dad and Herman's son-in-law, you get the sense that these folks have spent their lives working other people's land for, literally, pennies a day.

I also learned that Jose's family used to live with Herman and Margarita, only up until 3 years ago when Carlos (another brother in the US) and Jose sent enough money to build the house they now live in. Jose has never seen the new house. The new house has 3 rooms: Noemi's room, Rodolfo's room and the main room where Esperanza, Milvia, Mariela and Paola sleep. All the family's clothes are in a big box in Noemi's room. On the walls there are photos of Jose during his time in the military. A refrigerator was bought by Carlos' US wages and they now operate a small store selling cold drinks.


As with tradition, we went out to the ocean, crossing the river first in a canoe. Leonel, an older man of the coast with giant feet probably because he never wears shoes and what appears to be a glass eye but probably isn't, brought us across. The canoe is wooden and he pushes it with a huge stick, it's not very deep. But he let Mariela, Jose's sister, direct the boat. She's learning. It was awesome to see her bring us across because usually only the boys work the boats. On the other side was Jen (a dude) and his wife and 2 kids. In my last 2 visits, Jen was our canoe-master. Mariela, Andres and I sat on the beach and let the waves toss us about. Noemi (another sister of Jose), Josue (nephew), Vanessa (niece) and Henry (Jose's bro and dad to Vanessa and Josue) and Leonel sat up on the beach away from the water. The beach is rough, littered with plastic bottles, trash and broken sandals, and really hot, but also surrounded by incredible landscape, the tops of the banana fields and palms. There are few people in the distance, but no one near us. It is pretty surreal hanging out with them and being on that beach. It looks like where dinosaurs might have vacationed once upon a time.

Crossing again to the other side, all sandy, hot, sweaty, sticky with salt water and hungry (that could have been just me) we all sit in the canoe again. Mariela takes a stab (ha, ha, literally) at rowing the boat and everyone keeps an eye on Josue and Vanessa who want more than anything to lean as far as possible out of the boat. The sun goes down up the shore and everyone says they are "getting cold" - ha! cold? I'm still sweating.

Most amazing part: As we are shuffling back in our flip flops and white bull comes running down the street. Seriously. Running like it had tasted freedom, really. But then I was like, Uh isn't this dangerous?! (Always the cautious gringa) and I started pushing Mariela, Mimi (Noemi), and Josue out of the way. As the bull passed us (I don't know why it didn't run at us) Josue threw rocks at it. The sweetness of the bull's freedom was noticeably and momentarily stalled when the rocks hit him, but he kept running. Unfortunately the now probably pretty ticked bull had another group of people to run by/at...and he did. He chased 2 girls behind a house. I really thought the worst, but I think the girls escaped or the bull got bored because then the bull reappeared and ran into the bush toward the ocean. It was totally bizarre to see because I have never seen a galloping bull. And the bull was adorable!!!! It ran totally clumsily and unsure. I walked the rest of the way to the house looking over my shoulder and anticipating places to hide in case he came running back.


I managed to stay un-sunburned (except for my left arm which sports a trucker-burn/tan from driving) and with relatively few mosquito bites because I wore pants, long sleeves and socks all evening, even though I was sweating a lot. But it was worth it. Normally I leave Venecia all chewed up, burned and super itchy. I get to sleep in Noemi's bed which has a mosquito net. I was the only one who got a good night's sleep last night. Although the heat was extremely heavy last night and I woke up at 5 am or so with an intense allergy/sneezing fit. I am consistently allergic to various places and houses in Guatemala. There are only 2 light bulbs in the house, one in front and one in the main room where there are 3 beds, a stereo, a TV and a refrigerator full of beer and soda (they sell cold drinks now!), so my room was pitch black and I couldn't fetch Andres' sock which I really wanted to blow my nose in.

The family doesn't have a bathroom. They just have a patch of dirt behind a black tarp. Dig yer hole and bury yer paper! But you can pee anywhere. Unfortunately I had to claim their toilet paper for my own come morning for my allergies, as well as snatch some napkins. I spent the morning sweating, sneezing and chowing down on Noemi's awesome empanadas. The night before she made them especially for me, cuz I love 'em. And I proudly ate 5 of them last night. Then this morning she gave me another plate of 5. They all laughed about how "skinny" I am which is not technically true, but because my pants were falling down and I wasn't as fat as I was when I visited in December - their words, not mine. Guatemalan women really know how to keep an eye on your weight changes.

So this morning we left Venecia and took Noemi to Tiquisate to buy vegetables. As we started to ascend out of the coastal area and into the mountains the Land Cruiser died. Lost all power and boom, chillin' on the side of the road. Luckily, I just looked at Andres and said, What do we do? (Not that I didn't know, but it was nice to be able to just ask). We walked to a tienda and a lady directed us to walk down the highway where there is a mechanic shop. In short, we took a taxi to a San Sebastian in the department of Retalhuleu (best dept. name ever!! pronounced Reh-tahl-oo-lay-oh, or locally just REY-Ohu). It was SO hot still! My jeans were all stretched out and saggy, my face burning, my forehead dripping with sweat. Classy. The mechanic, Andres and I hopped in the taxi up to the pobrecito Land Cruiser. In short, the battery died. Now, I've had batteries die, but it's always noted when ya start the car. I've never had a battery died while driving. So they did some mecanico-magico and we drove to the mechanic's shop where he put in some battery accelerator liquid stuff. I didn't know that was possible, or that batteries need liquid. But he said the battery was fine and off we went! I paid 50 quetzales ($6) for the whole deal. A day's wage for Rodolfo back in Venecia.

And driving out on the highway today toward Tiquisate I saw a most incredible view... all the volcanoes from Santa Maria to Lake Atitlan. Breathtaking with all the bananas in the foreground.

So back at the ranch here in Olintepeque, I'm nursing some burned skin, a few unfortunately placed bug bites and a lessening headache from, well, from today in general. I know I'll be back to Venecia at some point, but boy is it a trek. A four hour, 100 mile drive into an empanada-lovin' oven.

These pics are from my December visit. This time I went camera-less.