Lending a Helping Hand

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Hello again, I'm back at Lake Atitlan but this time I'm getting a different look at things. For those of you that aren't aware, there were devastating mudslides at the lake this past year due to torrential rainfall caused by Hurricane Stan. Hundreds of people lost their lives and many lost theirs homes and crops. A lot of different groups are here at the lake providing resources and help. I have been introduced to a few of them and will help out where I can.

On Saturday, I caught a boat with Joann (my connection here at the lake) over to her house on the water to gather supplies for the day. We met her friend Heather in San Pablo and handed out materials for clothing to five families that had lost their homes and belongings in the mudslides. These indigenous families only spoke a local Mayas language, so we needed a translator. The families had lost everything and were so grateful to receive clothing. The town of San Pablo has no tourists, which made us the only white people around. I had to wear pants because it was against their religious practices to wear shorts and I also had to ask permission before taking a picture because some believed it stole a piece of their soul (I wouldn't want that!). The sewage for the entire town runs down an open canal on either side of the street, which produced a very distasteful odor. We finished our work in San Pablo and hopped a pickup truck over to San Juan the neighboring village.

In San Juan, we met with a local family that was helping with the relief efforts. There were 52 families here that had lost their homes to the mudslides, and we were here to debrief with local connections and drop off some supplies. I had a chance to talk with Heather who had recently lived in Raleigh, NC and is now living at the lake for the time being. She devotes her time to helping with the development of communities in need. Heather had many contacts at the lake that she turned me onto. Later, after returning from across the lake, I met up with her friend Nancy Robinson at the local library. We met there to help local shoe shine boys learn to read but none of them showed, so she took me over to her friend Sharon's house for an introduction. Sharon is also a missionary living in Pana and had plenty of construction work in the area to keep me busy. For starters, she had a team building a house in a nearby town (San Jorge), so I was to meet them on Monday and assist with construction. I sat and talked with Sharon and Nancy for awhile about various projects around the area that I could help with. I got the contact information that I needed and returned to my hospedaje. Later that night while searching for a bite to eat, I ran into Joann and she invited me to attend a group bible study the following day and informed me that a volunteer (Richard) training firefighters in San Juan would like to meet with me.

Before the bible study that Sunday, I was walking down the street to grab a quick breakfast when I heard my name yelled out. Well, if it wasn't my old friend Liss the volunteer dentist from Santa Cruz. We ate breakfast together and were actually able to carry on a real conversation since I'm now fluent in Spanglish. We talked for awhile and decided to meet later that day.

Bible study that morning was great. I soaked in a motivating message, met a lot of really neat people, and enjoyed a delicious meal. Joann introduced me to Richard, the volunteer firefighter/Paramedic from Oregon that she had mentioned. Richard was volunteering his time in San Juan (which neighbors San Pedro on the lake) to help train firefighters and get the department up and running. He was so excited to learn that I had been a firefighter/EMT in the states. He quickly offered me a place to stay and the occasional meal if I would come over and help him train his firefighters. I happily accepted and let him know that I would be their on Tuesday. After leaving Joann and Richard, I met up with Liss and we went for a walk by the lake. Liss had finished up her work in Santa Cruz and was in Pana for two weeks and then on to Santiago, which was just across the lake.

Monday morning, I met up with the crew doing construction in San Jorge. We caught a pickup truck to the neighboring town and made our way to the project site. They had framed the two-room house the week prior and lacked pouring the concrete floor and some final sections of the walls. The group consisted of two Guatemaltecos, three Canadians, two Americans (counting me), and a British woman. We all worked our butts off until the home was complete. It sure felt good to see the finished project and the smile it left on the families faces. After returning, I called Sharon and informed her that I would be working at the San Juan Fire Department the remainder of my stay. She thanked me and told me to keep in touch.

I met Richard at the fire station Tuesday afternoon and he asked me if I could train six of his firefighters (in-training) how to drive a vehicle and anything else I might want to add. I never in a million years thought that the driver training I did at Fed Ex and my firefighter training in Vail would ever come into play together in Guatemala. It sure makes you think doesn't it. The San Juan Volunteer Fire Department is made up of a bunch of guys who have little to no experience in firefighting. The department doesn't have any vehicles with a water source, nor do they have hoses, ladders, fire hydrants, fire equipment...period. They own 3 old ambulances ( 1 with no brakes and another with a bad battery ) and a raggedy 4-Runner to respond to emergencies. If a fire ever occurs, the men will run into the building wearing ordinary clothing (no helmets, gloves, etc.) to pull people out and let the place burn. My job here mainly consists of holding three driving classes per day, organizing all of their inventory and teaching a few new techniques here and there. So, I started off Tuesday with my first driving classes, which I have to give in Spanish. My one rule while driving is that only Spanish can be spoken- no Tzutuj'il (their local Mayas language), because they love to mix it up and totally confuse me. There were two funny occasions where I goofed up my Spanish that I must note real quick. The first occasion was when I tried to warn my driver to look out for an oncoming car (which can be called coche in Spanish) and I actually yelled "look out for that kitchen" (which is cocina). The crew in the car got a big kick out of their goofy gringo friend. The second occasion is even better. The only women firefighter (Marta), asked me what I did in the states before I was a firefighter, and I wanted to tell her that I had worked in delivery (Fed Ex), but I didn't know the correct word so I quickly looked it up in my miniature dictionary. Due to my quick glance into my dictionary, I told her that I had worked in devilry (you know w/ el Diablo) instead of delivery (You should have seen the look on her face).

Alright, back to my daily routine in San Juan. I was given the Chief’s room at the firehouse to sleep because he is gone for two months. I train two guys at 12, 3, and 5 O'clock in driving the insanely narrow and dangerous streets of San Juan, San Pedro and San Pablo. The roads here are curvy, full of pot holes, dogs, chickens, kids, drunks...you name it. Not to mention the crazy drivers honking and blowing by us constantly. Back at the station, I make the younger guys workout (for the first time in their lives) and I train others on tying knots and harnesses. Richard is gone to Santiago and Pana everyday, so there is no one to translate when I really need it. For example, one night the crew on duty was out on a call and I was all alone at the station. A man came biking in through the front door and rambled something hysterically about his 2 year old kid bleeding from the head...so, not fully certain what I was getting myself into, I grabbed my personal first aid kit and followed him to his house. The 2 year old had fallen and now had a cut above his eye with blood running down his face. He was crying at the time, but nothing like the screaming that went on when he saw his first giant white man. I had to talk the mother through first sanitizing her dirty hands, then cleaning, and finally applying ointment to the wound. All turned out well, but then came the call at midnight where I had to drive a young rookie and myself two towns over to transport a man with severe stomach pain to the hospital (which is over an hour drive). We ended up searching in the dark for 30 minutes trying to find the correct shack (mixed in with many other similar shacks), while rabid dogs snipped at our heels. By the time we located and removed him from his home, our partners showed up and took over the transport to the hospital. I must say it was quite the night, especially due to the fact that no one had the time to slow their Spanish down so that I could make any sense of it.

If you haven't noticed, an EMT in Guatemala is comparable to a surgeon in the states. Now that everyone knows I am an EMT they think I am the one to go to in an emergency. Up until now, I have received a call from Sharon for advice on a one year old baby with a 2nd degree burn on it's face, a call from Joann about a lady with severe pain in her lower esophagus, and if that’s not all, Liss brought a young girl by my place with an allergic rash to treat. Well, I did my best with the little bit of knowledge that I have and luckily one of them made it (just kidding!).

Well, I was going to try and squeeze in my last bit of time here at the lake into one entry, but there's just too much I have to say, so sorry, there will be more to come. Oh yeah, one last thing! I have yet again discovered another critter to make one's life miserable...and that would be Mr. Coffee Fly. These invisible little flies will bite you without you even knowing it and leave an egg under your skin. The eggs never hatch, but soon you have a red welt and a severe itch to go with it. I now have the pleasure of having these bites all over me. I have learned (7 days later) that rubbing alcohol on the bites helps to kill them. They say that after you've been here for awhile they stop biting you. But I believe in general, bugs love the taste of my blood (porque mi sangre es muy dulce). Well, I've never seen one of these little buggers, but I sure do have a nice little collection of their eggs under my freakin' skin. Scratch Ya Later!

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Comments

[Tam]

Curl, you had me at "firehose". That's awesome, you teachin' people how to drive. Who knew your crazy driving would pay off. Take it easy. Blog me.