Thursday, March 01, 2007
Visiting Chiquisis
I’m writing this at 2:00am. It is quiet and peaceful, except for some barking dogs somewhere. I was out “in the field” yesterday from noon until about 5, and came back invigorated, but bone tired. Skipped dinner and was in bed by 8, knowing I would be awake later but not caring.
There is this little publication that the Peace Corps Volunteers put together periodically, to keep in touch with each other and share anecdotes about their experiences here in Guatemala. The most recent one includes comments from a PCV who says he feels like he is living an experience out of National Geographic Magazine. I had that feeling today.
I had accompanied the two architects from Consorcio Bizkaia (a group of 3 Spanish aid agencies) out to Chiquisis. C. is a relocated mountaintop community of about 200 people, dating from late 2005 after Tropical Storm Stan. Most of the people are still living in temporary shelters – a basic framework wrapped in tough plastic provided by USAID. But Consorcio Bizkaia has done the planning for the community and is building new houses at a rapid rate. They expect to have completed some 290 houses by April.
There is this little publication that the Peace Corps Volunteers put together periodically, to keep in touch with each other and share anecdotes about their experiences here in Guatemala. The most recent one includes comments from a PCV who says he feels like he is living an experience out of National Geographic Magazine. I had that feeling today.
I had accompanied the two architects from Consorcio Bizkaia (a group of 3 Spanish aid agencies) out to Chiquisis. C. is a relocated mountaintop community of about 200 people, dating from late 2005 after Tropical Storm Stan. Most of the people are still living in temporary shelters – a basic framework wrapped in tough plastic provided by USAID. But Consorcio Bizkaia has done the planning for the community and is building new houses at a rapid rate. They expect to have completed some 290 houses by April.
It feels like being on the top of the world, there are no higher mountains on the horizon. It is above 9,000 ft., and the air is thin – feels chilly but the sun is strong and warm. You don’t seem to sweat in this atmosphere, even climbing steep slopes.
The houses are basic. Concrete block, corrugated tin roof, on a concrete slab. Almost square, divided in the middle to provide a room for the kitchen-living space, the other half divided again into two small bedrooms. The average family here has 5 or 6 children, so these houses will be very full. No indoor plumbing, no water. No stoves yet, but there will be wood-fired hearths eventually.
The architects were checking every site, to be sure that the houses were not too close to the embankments, that the reinforcing bars were spaced properly, that all specifications were being met, or mistakes corrected. They are doing careful, excellent work.
The houses are basic. Concrete block, corrugated tin roof, on a concrete slab. Almost square, divided in the middle to provide a room for the kitchen-living space, the other half divided again into two small bedrooms. The average family here has 5 or 6 children, so these houses will be very full. No indoor plumbing, no water. No stoves yet, but there will be wood-fired hearths eventually.
The architects were checking every site, to be sure that the houses were not too close to the embankments, that the reinforcing bars were spaced properly, that all specifications were being met, or mistakes corrected. They are doing careful, excellent work.
It is a strange scene. There are utility poles, but no wires, no electricity – yet. Lots of dust, it swirls around your feet at every step. The streets are laid out in checkerboard style, as much as the steep terrain will allow. Curbing is largely in, but no paving yet. But today, a group of men were putting in sidewalks (!), which just seems surreal. The predominant color is gray – the plastic sheeting, cement block mostly unfinished houses, the color of the ground itself. 
The people provide the color. The women in their bright, multicolored huipils, skirts and wraps. The men working everywhere, moving piles of gravel and sand, building the houses, mixing concrete... The atmosphere did not seem pressured, but there was a sense of intensity and industriousness in all this building going on.My task was to do GPS mapping of the very bumpy dirt road that brought us to Chiquisis, and to define the coordinates (longitude and latitude) of the town and its nearby neighbors. So I had a good bit of free time to explore. The first man we met, Eduardo, was glad for an opportunity to practice has English. I spoke Spanish, he spoke English. It turned out that he had received a grant to study geology at the U. of Delaware. He had fond memories of being invited by a friend to go to Philadelphia to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which HE found to be a surreal experience. Everyone I talked to spoke about how much better and safer this site was than where they had lived before. This, despite the chill air, the clouds drifting by, and the gray-ness of the raw construction scene.
Despite the warm sun, clouds roll in over the hilltop. It increases the "gray-ness" of the landscape, but also gives it a mysterious, other-worldly kind of atmosphere.
I found a boy who pointed out the trail to an neighboring town on an adjacent peak. The trail was through a pine forest, then fields where men were preparing their milpas to plant corn. This town, Pacatuma Section 2, had more completed houses than Chiquisis, and a very solid, functional school building, and a pretty, basic church. I talked with several women, who again expressed their pleasure at being able to live in a town such as this.
Back in Neuva Santa Catarina Ixtahuacán, the sauna felt wonderful, my stash of apples, cheese, club crackers and a tin of tuna with vegetables were very welcome luxuries.
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