My rights as a woman have always been important to me, but since I've been in Guatemala I have gained perspective of the struggles that the women here experience. For example, every day when I walk through Antigua I am verbally harrassed by men. Whistles, shouts, kissing sounds, and creepy stares have dominated my daily strolls. I am not bragging. I hate the attention. It intimidates me to the degree that I always walk with my house key between my knuckles, ready to defend myself if the harrasment goes beyond verbal. If you are thinking anything along the lines of "She must not dress conservatively enough", you are wrong.
Although being objectified infuriates me, the worst part is the acceptance of this macho attitude in Guatemalan culture. I brought the issue to the attention of my host father after an ambulance driver yelled "Hey baby, I love you!" out of the ambulance window while the sirens were on. This guy should have been attempting to save someone's life, not hollering at girls! My host father was amused but not surprised by this man's actions. "This is Guatemala", he said. "That's just the culture here. Learn to ignore it."
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Ignore it?! Let me remind you, I go to university that could be considered a liberal utopia compared to Guatemala. I am not used to people brushing off sexual harrasment of any kind. Even if machismo is part of the culture in Guatemala, ignoring it is not going to make women feel any safer. Yet, as much as I would like to teach these men about respect and gender equality, I am too frightened about my safety to say anything to them. So, when I get cat-called I keep a straight face and pretend like I don't hear anything. It's a shame.
By the time I got on the bus to San Miguel Escobar, I was thoroughly annoyed by the election results and the men with obnoxiously high levels of testosterone. San Miguel Escobar is the town where the headquarters of De La Gente (DLG), the coffee cooperative I am volunteering at is located. Each morning I ride for 15 minutes to DLG in a chicken bus, a retired American school bus decked out with a colorful exterior paint job, stickers of large bosomed women, and figurines of Jesús Cristo.
When I arrived at the DLG office I met a farmer named Froilan and we began to hike up Volcán Agua to his coffee farm. Tools in hand, we discussed climate change and its effects on his coffee plants while hiking up a steep trail to his property. His and many other farmers' coffee plants are suffering from a fungus called "La Roya", or rust in English. La Roya prospers in warm climates and for the last 3 years Froilan says it has gotten hotter and drier. La Roya kills both the leaves of the coffee plant and the cherries which contain the coffee bean. Froilan has planted trees for shade on his farm, but the coffee plants produce lower yields with less sunlight. This leaves the coffee farmers of Guatemala with a tough decision; to lose their coffee to La Roya or to the shade. Froylan confided in me that he is very scared for the future of his farm.
Green coffee cherries. When the coffee is ready to harvest in December the cherries will turn red.
After 90 minutes of hiking, we reached Froilan's land which is 3 hectares large. Our work today was to remove all the weeds with our hoes. Froilan's land is on a volcano, thus the ground is sloped which means not only are you bending forward to hoe, you also have to adjust further to the slope of the volcano. It is quite rough on the back.
A view of Antigua while hiking down Volcán Agua.
Froilan had lots of questions about the science of agriculture which I did my best to answer in Spanish. We discussed photosynthesis, respiration, and the benefits of growing beans for nitrogen fixation. In exchange for these answers, he told me about the wildlife of Volcán Agua and about how the best meal he's ever had was the meat of an armadillo that he killed on his property. I look forward to working with Froilan again tomorrow because he has a lot to teach and he doesn't seem to care that I'm a girl doing what is considered a man's job in Guatemala.
This afternoon when I finished volunteering at DLG, I attended my Spanish lesson and then a salsa dance class. Thanks to dancing, I am not as frustrated as I was this morning although I find it quite silly that here the men are always expected to lead in salsa even if they don't know what they are doing. But hey, that is another rant for another blog post. Enjoy your night!
