Hello, Good-bye

Last week Elizabeth Alter, the volunteer who is replacing me at my site, visited for four days. My job was to show her around site, introduce her at the schools, and set the stage for a smooth transition. She will work in the schools for two years, and her work will focus on training teachers and parents to make “Life Skills” classes sustainable.


I enjoyed the chance to get to know Elizabeth, and we have a lot in common. We’re both super-organized (as she said, “Kate, I am one of the few people who would appreciate this beautiful hand-over binder that you created for me.”). We have a shared obsession of diet soda. More significantly, we both care about development work, and we talked a lot about how to make her Youth Development work here sustainable. My site is in good hands with her!

The introductions at the schools were Elizabeth’s “hello,” but for me it was “good-bye” to my dear students who I have seen grow into young adults over the last two years. If I had to pick a single strength of Peace Corps development work, I would say that the two-year commitment establishes the volunteer as an institution. My students cannot remember a school year in which I wasn’t a teacher, and I am seen as a normal, regular part of the community. It is a longevity and a rapport that short summer trips cannot achieve. The students at three schools gave me going-away parties (“despedidas”), and they were sincere adolescent gestures from the heart.









The students were really sad to see me go. When I had to tell my favorite class of students that I was leaving, Rogelio screamed in anguish, “¡NO! ¡No puedes!” We’ve shared so much together—through my classes, I’ve seen them grow in maturity and critical thinking, and they have come to respect me and care for me. Good-byes with students and teachers were tough, and there were tears. Some students stopped by my house to say good-bye, which was a welcome break from the incredible task of packing.



I also had despedida meals with my host family and the missionaries. I cross-stitched a table cloth for the Colops, the missionary family in town. I framed a collage of photos for my host family.

(you can click on the collage above to see it bigger)

When it actually came time to leave on Monday morning, I was sobbing so much more than I thought I would. I couldn’t believe that I would never walk through the door to my room or wash my clothes at the pila. I spent a year and a half with the host family, which is the longest that I have lived in one place since high school. Leaving was so emotional because their house and that town became my home, where I had a routine and friends. I was ready to leave and to move onto the next challenge, but the people and the place made my two years were a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and it is difficult to see that go.



The consolation that I tell myself and that I told my students is that I will return someday (give me five years). Guatemala is so close to the US that I will be back. ¡Hasta luego!