Family Matters

There we were. Four gringos in a chicken bus named Maria Luisa, a retired American school bus decorated with religion maxims and pictures of Jesus Christ on the Crucifix. Careening around narrow curves on the landslide-prone InterAmerican Highway at full speed, we speculate when the bus received its last inspection and the vehicle’s actual recommended capacity. Like sardines, we are packed three in each seat, while a fourth traditional Maya person practices “Mayan Levitation,” and somehow manages to span the aisle between the two seats and sit as if in a chair. I pray that Maria Luisa’s breaks do not fail and I calmly listen to the dance club reggaeton blaring through the bus’s speakers. Somehow, this treacherous ride has ceased to frighten me. Using them for almost all daily travel, I mount a chicken bus and suddenly experience a strange feeling of homecoming.



I constantly marvel at the extent to which Sololá feels like home. With its postcard view of Lake Atitlan and the three bordering volcanoes, its bustling market, the colorful huipils (traditional dress) of the local women, the abundant stray dogs, the general friendly atmosphere, and obviously the chicken buses, Sololá has become familiar and homey, while simultaneously surprising me frequently with its quirks and customs. Many friends and family members will be visiting me throughout the year, and I cannot wait to show them the house and city which I hold in such high esteem.



The principal explanation for my attachment to Sololá lies in the familiar relationship of my team. It’s true; my 5 coworkers and I are a family. Whether we are sitting around the dinner table joking about the boys’ questionable cooking skills (they seem only able to cook meat), or we taking Christmas card portraits while wearing Santa hats that say “Feliz Navidad,” I am constantly struck by the intimacy, trust, and respect that our group has already established. Sure, we work together professionally as colleagues, but we also live together and consequently share in each others’ struggles and successes. We are each other’s support system, and I know that I can confide in any or all of my roommates about my beliefs, personal issues, and relationships. Heck, we even have pets; our family now includes one spunky yet snuggly kitten named Oliver and a crab named Eduardo that appeared in our kitchen sink and now lives in a Tupperware on the window sill.



Overall, like a family, we may disagree or quarrel, yet we always resolve those arguments because that’s what families do: they put aside annoyance and anger to forgive and understand each other. Throughout these past three months, we have already experienced so many challenges and laughs together, and I amazed at how quickly strangers can become close friends. I am so grateful for these new friendships and I look forward to the remainder of the year.

Peace
Ginny Savage