A Farwell to Jaime

I am really sad to say goodbye to Jaime. Two years ago my host parents decided Mosiah was too hard to pronounce, and bang Jaime was born (a translation of my middle name). He looks a lot like me although he has a propensity to wear cowboy boots, have a beard and he speaks really bad Spanish. Although we look very similarly we are also very different.

Jaime is quick with a joke and quicker to smile and make fun of himself. He feels comfortable in front of a classroom and likes to work with youth. He will try anything to make a classroom laugh especially if it is at his expense. He doesn’t concern himself with career tracks or with the workings of the wider world. He is focused on how his classes are going and if his students understand his lessons. Jaime can talk about sex and give a condom demonstration to anyone without shame or worry, because he knows the growing risk of HIV in Guatemala. Jaime likes the neighbor kids and doesn’t mind putting on the kettle and talking about adolescent growing pains after a long day. Jaime likes to dance! He likes to go out with his wife and listen to music. On occasion he has been seen dancing to Bachata, Banda, and Regaton.

I seem to be much more serious. While I like to have fun I see that I can be more serious and less concerned with laughter. I also see the need to focus more on my future and try to make lasting career plans. While I like who I am I will really miss some of the more carefree characteristics that Jaime embodied. In many ways he and I live different lives and different places. Very rarely do we mix nor do I think we would do well together. For instance, Mosiah does not dance to Bachata. He hates Latin music. Jaime lives in Salcajá and very rarely makes it out of town. Mosiah on the other hand has traveled all through Central America, attends meetings for the Peace Corps and worries a lot. Does this make me sound schizophrenic?

While it took two years to fill in and make Jaime a whole person here in Guatemala sometimes it is hard for me to see him living outside of the high plains. While Jaime has been very important to me these past two years, I don’t see him being well prepared for taxes, 401Ks or job searching. While I know part of him will live on inside me I also lament the fact that much of him will leave me waiting to reemerge in a distant visit to Guatemala. So, goodbye Jaime thanks for the memories and for all of your help (I will wear the boots and beard in respect).

Mosiah

Final Group Photo - Peace Corps Guatemala Spring 2007-2009

Last week we had our COS (Close of Service) conference in Antigua. Here is a picture of the 23 of 27 remaining volunteers from our training group. We are really going to miss everyone!

Nick's Music

My neighbor, lets call him Nick, is an interesting man. He is in his sixties, single, as close as someone in this country comes to being retired, but above all I would say that he is a music lover. I have had the opportunity to attend a few social situations with Nick. He is quick to dance, bop his head along with the beat or talk about some old Mexican or Spanish band. All in all he is a loveable old man, except when he wants to share his love of music with me.

It’s not that he is constantly coming over to get me to listen to something. He has a more… I suppose we will call it efficient approach. Usually on a Sunday afternoon Nick will decide that he will want to share some old Spanish love ballads with me and the rest of our colonia. He does this by way of engaging his outdoor speakers on his front porch that point out towards the middle of the street.

I must say that I was really taken aback when I noticed that he had speakers on the outside of his house. This is something that does not compute culturally to the average Gringo. The backyard perhaps, but speakers blaring into the street is just strange. And we are not talking a low volume. Usually it sounds like we have a band of guitarristas in the house with us. What’s worse is that Nick is usually chilling inside (I imagine him dancing with an imaginary women) while his speakers are thumping on the outside.

As far as I can figure the speaker’s sole purpose is to project Nick’s music into the barrio. Okay, but why? Does Nick think that his Gringo neighbors need to expand their musical palate and this is the only way he can inject his tastes into our lives? Have other people on the block come to him to ask him to please lighten up their Sundays with sappy love songs or ear-piercing ranchero music? Something tells me no. The only thing I have come up with is that he likes to have a drink or several, dance with his imaginary Marias and Juanas and turn up the volume for the rest us.

Whatever his reasoning I have figured out a few things.
1. No one seems to care. Never have I seen someone go over to ask him to turn down/off his speakers. Which leads me to believe that it is culturally acceptable to “share” your music as loud as you like with your neighbors.
2. I have also realized that perhaps I would be seen as enojado if I were to ask him to keep his music to himself. Enojado translates to mad which is a very undesirable trait where we live. As annoying as it can be I realize that I can do little about it.

I would hate to wreck our morning greetings and exchanges of smiles and waves because of my cultural inability to appreciate other people’s loud music. That being said, I may have cursed out loud in English the last time I heard the band strike up in the living room. I guess next Sunday I should grab my wife and practice our dance moves. If you can’t beat em join em.