Transnationalism & Children without Fathers

I’m loving fieldwork but I would hardly call it work. I have been so fortunate here in Aguacatan. I arrived last Friday after a six hour chicken bus from Lake Atitlan to Aguacatan.  I was greeted at the home of Cecilia (Cecy) Solis, her husband Mack, and their eleven year old son, Carlos. They have been so hospitable to me and make a bucket shower amazing because they heat the water for me! Of course, that’s only a minor detail because the best part is that Cecy is personally interested in my research project. Migration and transnational families have become customary here. In fact, it is difficult to find someone without relatives in the States, usually Ohio, South Carolina, Florida, Ohio, and some in Alabama and of course, Bellingham, Washington.

Everyday has been like unraveling a mystery as I look for women with husbands in the United States. On Saturday, Carlos gave me a grand tour of Aguacatan. I’m slowly learning some words in Awakatek, which always gives the older ladies a chuckle when I try and use their Mayan language. It’s been great having Carlos by my side and someone to hang out with. He asked me on Saturday afternoon, “What do you want to do now?”. I said, “I want to start talking to women with spouses in the U.S. (kind of a weird request but he didn't think so)”. He was like, “oh ok. Follow me. My friend’s dad is in los estados. I don’t think he’s met him because he left after he was born but you can talk to his mom.” And it’s been that easy to talk to women in this difficult situation because migration is a way of life for Aguacatecos.

Then today I started volunteering with the health educators with the Centre de Salud. The health educators are three women who each day travel to a different local village and weigh children, give vaccines and offer consults with a doctor. Today we went to the community of Cantón, which is made up of most families with last names of Lopez and Rodriguez. I was excited because I knew this community had a lot of migrant families, and it sure did. The doctor let me introduce myself to the 40 or more women and children. I explained in Spanish that I was visiting to meet women who have family in the United States. I then realized quickly I needed to specify a spouse in the United States because everyone had at least brothers, cousins, or uncles in the States. I sat in gratitude as these women shared how their fathers left 10 years ago. The daughters then helped translate my questions from Spanish to Awakateko so that their mothers could explain how the decision for her spouse to leave has affected their families. Part of my grant from my university has let me pay for disposable cameras for the women. I've given them cameras, they are taking pictures of their family and children and then I will develop the photos and mail the pictures to their spouse in the States.

The effects of migration on this town are massive. People tell me that this is a major issue which is hardly recognized or discussed because migration is so common.  And I know this is only the beginning of realizing the enormity of the connections between their community and the United States and Bellingham.

My grand tour of Aguacatan. First stop: Rio San Juan. This river just gushes out of the middle of the mountain. The river is then channeled into an irrigation system that waters the entire agricultural valley.

The farming community grows just about everything but is known for its garlic and onion.

Another stop at the cemetery to see how their Dia de los Muertos went over.

This area of the cemetery was all babies.

Center of Aguacatan

I met Karina last month when I was working at Casa Materna in Huehuetenango. She was pregnant and waiting to give birth to her ninth child. I became very close with her and her husband, Lorenzo. She had a girl last Sunday and named her Kati :) Pretty special.

Hombres: Corn and Coffee

After visiting the women at the traditional weaving and medicine cooperatives we proceeded to meet Francisco who was drying corn in the street. He showed us all the different varieties of corn and the various colors of beans.

 

He showed us the pieces of corn that went bad due to the heavy rains last month.

We then took some back allies where everyone grows coffee in their yards. Harvesting season is just around the corner.

Suz, Ryan, my professor James Loucky and I went to a cafe where they are preparing to pick and dry the coffee beans. He explained that the rains last month also destroyed a lot of the coffee plants. The green beans are the result of all the rains. They will not be able to sell or export these beans and instead they'll just be used for coffee in town.

Mujeres: Weaving and Traditional Herbs

Suz and I went on a tour of San Juan using a guide at their community-based tourism office. We learned how the weaving is done and also got some good information for Suz's thesis on tourism in San Juan.

These huge apparatuses are used for weaving!

We went to the cooperative of weaving women where Miriam showed us how they grow their own cotton then spin, dye, and weave it.

Carrots are used to dye orange colors.

Miriam Navichoc with Weaving Women San Juan Cooperative

Explaining the different uses of each plant for traditional medicine. These women work in the Cooperative for Midwives and Health Education.

Día de los Santos

For most of us death is a foreign idea that we dread in the future and avoid thinking about until old age. For others, death may be an event they've experienced, try to put it out of the memory and if they must talk about it, then it's an awkward discussion that usually ends with a silent pause at the end and then someone quickly changes the subject to something "happier". At least that's been my experience. Yet, the last two nights I saw something very different from this as families congregated in the cemetery to celebrate the lives of their loved ones with flowers, incense and candles. It was an uplifting evening for families. Women and men dressed up in their trajes and dress. I felt honored that these people would let us "in" on their tradition.  It was essentially a party in the cemetery with music, prayer, and smiles as people looked on at the graves of old friends and relatives.  I very quickly wished we did this for our past loved ones in the States.

San Pedro Cemetery

Cemetery in San Juan La Laguna

Hiking to Cristalina

I posted this in another post but the tip of this mountain is "La Nariz" of the sleeping Mayan.

Hiking up to the top of "La Nariz"

Over looking San Juan La Laguna

We had a view of the entire lake.

Made it to the top! Had a bit of an adventure after this because we thought we knew a "shortcut". Friendly man helped us find our way back to Santa Clara and get a tuk-tuk home.

Rising Waters

Dusk at San Juan.

Corn fields next to house outside San Juan La Laguna

View from patio of Suz and Ryan's house in San Juan.

"Soy Patriota". Orange or green murals cover the town depending on political party for upcoming presidential election.

Original boat dock at Sam Marcos, now under water.

Empty Beds

“Why are these beds empty”, I asked Lydia the nurse at Casa Materna. It doesn’t make sense. There are only eight women at Casa Materna right now when there are up to 25 available beds for women to use with high risks pregnancies. Although I love the eight women who are there right now and love getting to hear about their families and lives in Guatemala, I know that it should be a little more crowded at the clinic. Last week there were 20 women…what happened!? It’s not like there are only eight women in Guatemala with a high risk pregnancy! We continued talking and the problem seemed twofold: needing more publicity and information to health clinics, particularly remote health posts so they know that the services of Casa Materna are available if they have a patient with high risks (i.e. possibility of death to women or child). The U.S. based NGO, PCI actually had reps from the Washington D.C., office here this week to talk about meeting needs of rural community. (They also took more pictures of me doing exercise with the patients). Second, involves the cultural aspect of the typical patient at Casa Materna. The patients are usually indigenous and speak either Mam or Chu. They live in remote areas that are often difficult and expensive to travel from in order to reach Huehuetenango. Often times the trip costs about 70 Quetzales to get to Casa Materna and then it requires another 30 Quetzales upon entering the clinic. Altogether this is about $9 dollars and obviously seems incredibly affordable to me, it is a burden for some families. Also many of the women prefer to have their babies at home, or with a comadrona (midwife) that has monitored their pregnancy and/or possibly delivered their previous children. Culturally, it is difficult for women to leave their village and have a baby at a hospital operated by the Ministerio de Salud de Guatemala. Like any NGO, the nurses and doctors want their services to be utilized by those in need and to fill up those beds!

I love this. It's a community health manual with tons of photos of women in traditional Mayan dress. Women who come to Casa Materna receive class everyday on maternal/child health issues.