Time flies when you're having fun...

Brittany: “So we’ve got enough stuffing now, and we think this slab of turkey will do fine in the toaster oven, right? …we got cranberries, you brought the pie…”
Molly: “What did we decide about the potatoes?”
Brittany: “Crap, Molly, why didn’t we get that, we were just at the store…?”
Molly: “Well I mentioned it a couple times but, I dunno, I thought you had some other plan in mind, you seemed unconcerned…”
Erin: “It’s cuz you were both lost in all the luxury American foods in that ex-pat grocery store.”
Brittany: “The potatoes you brought aren’t enough?”
Molly: “Britt, I brought 3 smallish potatoes. No that is not enough to make mashed potatoes for five people. And onion, didn’t we say we were going to put onion in the stuffing with the celery for extra flavor?”
Brittany: “Aw man! Why didn’t we remember this stuff before getting in the tuk-tuk?” (= motorized rick-shaw-like taxi taking us from the city-center of Panajachel out to our friend Luis’s house)
Molly: “Maybe Luis will have onion, by some small miracle…”
Erin: “Why didn’t you guys fill me in on the plan, I had no idea we still needed all that.”
Brittany: “Maybe we can get Luis to pick up some onion and potatoes when he comes later…”
Molly: “Sorry, guys…”
Brittany: “It’s not your fault…”

Twenty minutes later, upon arrival at Luis’s house to start cooking:

Molly: “Yeah, so, it is as I feared: Luis has one pot. How the heck we gonna make stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy if we only got one pot??”
Brittany: “Oh no!... Maybe we’ll go ask the neighbor ladies if we can borrow, like we did the last time? Or we ask Beverly to bring a few pots when she comes? In any case all we have to do right now since it’s early is start boiling water for the potatoes…”
Erin: “This is really funny, normally the two of you are not this absent minded. I’m kinda impressed, actually, at how much has managed to slip your minds!”
Molly and Brittany: “Thanks a lot, Erin!!”

And so began the Thanksgiving odyssey of Brittany, Erin, and Molly. Though not the same as the Thanksgivings I treasure in my mind, being away from family and Grandma’s cooking, I am happy to say it all turned out fine and delicious, all crises were solved, and we three Americans were quite satisfied (both emotionally and gastronomically) by the evening’s results. Our two Guatemalan friends, Luis and Beverly, were a bit bewildered by all the stressing out that everything had to be just right; for instance the specific need to eat mush of seasoned old bread cubes, exotic canned berries that aren’t really that much to write home about, and pay so much for a slab of turkey when chicken comes at about one-tenth the price. Then when the meal was about to begin we of course bowed our heads and Brittany lead us in the tradition of everyone saying what they were thankful for, and I suspect Luis and Beverly were even more amused by our strict adherence to a ceremony they probably considered over the top. Britt began in English, unusual for someone so fluent in Spanish, but said pretty much exactly what I was thinking of saying. So when she finished and it was my turn, I gave my thanks in Spanish hoping my lack of something great to say would be masked and made up for with the it’s-not-my-native-tongue excuse. Haha.
For the record, the pie I’d made and brought in its pan two hours on the chicken bus from Toto was by faaaaarrr the best part. Not that I'm bragging...

Thanksgiving topped off, and was a lovely close to, a very, very busy month of November. And October sure flew by without me knowing it, and now that we’ve begun the month of December I realize I am frighteningly close to finishing my first year in Guatemala! Not sure how it happened, but all the same I find myself looking back, giving thanks at this most-appropriate time of year, and pondering which of the lessons Guatemala has taught me over the past eleven months are most important.

The recent month-long visit of a cousin from Canada and her fiancé provided a few of those most-valuable insights and memorable experiences, as the occasion provoked a coming-together of the extended family here like nothing I’d seen. The pair arrived one Sunday culminating the extended family’s two-day efforts here preparing the house and the paches (which are sticky rice tamales with chicken and a red sauce, wrapped in a banana leaf and steam-cooked in a huge pot big enough to bathe a few kids in! QUITE the process!). The aunts who work as teachers had, like the kids, just finished the school year, so in addition to many day-trips with the overseas visitors to the close-by attractions in this country an extended trip was planned to hit the east coast and Tikal, the famous Mayan pyramids in Petén (the jungle-filled northernmost province), among a few others. Despite the fact that it’s a pretty big extended family, they reserved a spot in the minibus for me too! So we all went, 16 of us on this week-long trip to the main wonders of Guatemala, none of which I had seen before – me and 15 Guatemalans! It was so fun! Few are the opportunities to feel as integrated a member of a family as I felt on that trip. Yes, I stood out a bit in appearance, but otherwise I felt like just another cousin on the trip with my aunts, my young cousins, my little brothers and sister – and we saw so much together! Seeing the pyramids and other remnants of an ancient Mayan civilization prompted reflections from the adults on how this was their cultural heritage but that they understood only some of the symbology they saw. Visiting famous caves in Lanquín stirred up conversations later that evening about how many of their uncles or grandfathers or neighbors had according to rumor used caves like those to hide from the forced recruitments or village attacks committed by the military in the years of the guerrilla conflict. In other words, while most foreigners visit these places, marvel at them, and move on to the next scheduled item, my visit to these famous places was undoubtedly enriched by having visited with native Guatemalans. These are people to whom these ancient places matter, have history and meaning and bearing on their current lives, in a certain sense. I doubt I’ll be lucky enough to experience something like that again!

And then I was bit by a dog. Wonderful, eh?
Normally this goliath of a mutt barks and intimidates, hounding my progress on the path that passes his backyard which I pass twice every day, but he's all talk. Or so I thought. Last sunday morning I passed his house jogging, which is nothing new, but I guess his attitude was. I tried my best firm, not scared but not overly aggressive voice, which usually is sufficient, but he lunged for a piece of my quad muscle, sinking his teeth just above my left knee. Wonderful. I stopped to assess damage in front of the next house, once he and his sidekick had turned back home, and the neighbor lady came out and saw the blood running as I rolled up my pant leg. "Ay Diooooooos!" she exclaims. No shit.
The good news is this mutt has his rabies shots! So after treating this big ol' hole in my leg (for which I probably should've had stiches, in hindsight) and trying to avoid too much walking so that it doesn't open up again, I should be good to go. But I guess he got his wish: training for the three half-marathons I've run since July certainly had me going out running quite a bit, but I won't be bothering him running past his house for quite some time now - I won't be running at all till the hole in my leg heals up! So I guess another one of those most important insights that'd make the list would be to start walking with a big stick, or several fist-sized rocks, or a slingshot, or tamales to throw and distract this guy with, all of which are tactics my neighbors have advised me of since the incident. Or maybe the best tactic is e) all of the above.

Hope you are well, Happy belated Turkey Day, and a most blessed, merry holiday season. And remember to keep them neighborhood mutts at bay!