A Very Different Thanksgiving- Part 2

The sun was close to setting and I was getting tired.  I wanted to sit down, but something about the black sand of the beach made me more wary of that than I usually am. Suddenly, a large line of people emerged from a gate at the edge of the beach.  As they made their way down to the shore, I noticed two women with large tubs and a group quickly gathering around.  The turtles had arrived.  I hurried over and peeked over the heads of the children crowding close and squealed with the “aww” factor of dozens of tiny baby sea turtles, all clamoring to get out and start their journey to the ocean.

“Step back behind the line”, the volunteers instructed us, shepherding us to a line that had been drawn in the sand. They walked the line in trios, one person taking our 10 quetzales (about $1.30) and giving us a ticket, the next person handing us a little plastic bowl and depositing a diminutive turtle from the tub the last person was holding.

I stared at my turtle in delight.  It was so tiny, so full of life, so anxious to go.  It tried to crawl it’s way up the edge of the bowl, so I covered it with my hand, afraid it would flop out and fall to the sand. Once everyone had gotten a turtle, they counted to 3 and we all released our turtles at once as the sun sank below the horizon.  Their little flippers moving madly, they stumbled their way toward the ocean, 3 strokes forward, pause, 3 strokes forward, pause. They were so tiny that footprints left in the sand were obstacles that had to be carefully maneuvered. We cheered them on, urging them to the sea, to survive, to be quick and wary.

As the waves rolled in, little turtles would disappear from the sand, bobbing out to sea.  Others, the stragglers in the group, wandered haphazardly, heading down the beach before veering back towards the ocean.  Finally, as it grew darker and the grey turtles blended in with the sand, the last of the turtles finally made it out to sea. My heart was full- thankful for this amazing and unusual Thanksgiving experience.

A Very Different Thanksgiving- part 1

It’s Thanksgiving morning, but I’m not cooking a turkey or making a pie.  Instead, I’m headed up the mountain to the next town over- Sololá, the capital of the department (Guatemala’s version of States) that I live in.  We have a meeting with the director of the Department of Education and the supervisors of every school district we are currently working in.

I look around, fascinated, as we walk in.  It’s my first time at the offices, and it’s so far from my imagination of what the department of education would look like back home.  It’s a cement block structure, just as all the schools I’ve visited, and the waiting room we’re in has high ceilings and is cold this morning. The walls are painted, but the cement blocks below are still visible and the lighting is poor.  A stream of people arriving for work greets us as they walk past.  Eventually we’re lead upstairs to a large conference room, an overhead projector already turned on and the power point for the meeting after ours on the screen.  There’s a pretty tile floor pattern and tables set up in a large U.  We talk to the sub-director of the department of education as we wait, as supervisors begin to file in.

This meeting is the culmination of months of effort on the part of one of my coworkers. We’re here to sign a letter of understanding between us and the department of education.  It gives us their backing to work in schools in the districts of this department.  The department director reads the letter aloud, outlining the departments responsibilities and our responsibilities, and then, with all the supervisors we work with looking on, our Director of Programs and the director of the department of education sign and seal a letter for each supervisor as I take photos.  By the end, all the district supervisors in the department have arrived for their end of the year meeting.  We get a photo with all of them.  It’s a historic moment for us, and we’re really excited to have backing at this level of government for the work we do.

Work for the week done for me and my one American coworker, we head back down the mountain for a celebratory breakfast of eggs, black beans, plantains and tortillas, before we leave for our Thanksgiving holiday.

Big Spenders

Usually when my alarm is set before 6:00 I’m not so happy about waking up, but last Tuesday was an exception.  I had an exciting task ahead of me- several coworkers and I were going in to the capital to buy $10,000 worth of books.  Every year we receive over a million dollars worth of books in donations from book consolidators in the States, and then we pass on those donations to schools and libraries we work with, but since those donations come from surplus from publishers, there’s no guarantees to what we get. This year, almost all of our books were at the 3-5^th grade reading levels, so we were in search of some quality early grades books. 

As we walked into the store, Fondo Cultural Economico, the manager came down the stairs to meet us, handshakes and kisses on the cheek were exchanged, and then we were ushered through the store area to a separate room.  Tables had been laid out, books carefully displayed, a careful selection they thought might interest us. We flipped through, quickly discarding books that were too advanced. We asked the price of a book and another employee appeared with a laptop, looking up prices and marking them on a sticky note for every book we were interested in.  Another table magically appeared for us when we wanted to put all the books we were tentatively interested in together.

I found a new favorite, about a little boy with a stubborn pet mastodon and giggled over a wordless picture book of some animals who chase after a fox who stole a hen, only to find out that the fox and hen are actually friends. There were the books I set aside too- Beautifully illustrated poetry that was way to abstract for 6 year olds and moralizing value tales that were too boring to read.  But choosing $10,000 dollars worth of books goes surprisingly quickly when you’re buying for 70 schools and would like best if every school received the same set of books. 

While we were waiting for our order to be packed, the manager invited us to coffee at the bookstore’s adjoining restaurant.  We sipped tea and coffee and talked about book publishing in Mayan languages in their upstairs lounge, and then, urged by the manager to accept his offer of lunch, moved down to the restaurant floor below for cheese stuffed cauliflower and rice. We talked about international book fairs and his plans to expand the bookstore into more of a cultural center, and as the book packing continued, he invited us to try dessert, and we were rewarded by some excellent crepes. There’s a saying here in Guatemala- “full belly, happy heart”.  That was absolutely true at that moment.

We browsed the bookstore as they finished packing out order, and then arranged for delivery and headed back home.  I’m thankful for spending sprees, especially book buying ones, and as we were driving away, I couldn’t help but think I could get used to spending $10,000 at a go if the customer service was always so great.