"A recollection of memories that can only be understood through the imperfection of time ... a memoir about learning, being wrong just as many times as right, and growing as a constant process. A piece of life in words ... a revealing, honest work."
- Celia Peris-Peris, PhD
Men who voted for George W. Bush don't fit the mold of your typical Peace Corps volunteer. But Taylor Dibbert isn't your typical anything. Born and raised in Dallas, Dibbert lived far away from the third world countries he saw on the news. Yet something called to him, and so from 2006-2008, Dibbert lived in a small, indigenous village in Guatemala, after unpredictably joining the Peace Corps.
Fiesta of Sunset tells not only of the adventures of a far off land; it also provides a closer look into the back alleys and sad streets of a country struggling with poverty, corruption, crime and more. Some of the mysterious and romantic stereotypes of the Peace Corps are set to rest in this engaging example of one young American's experience abroad and how, while there, he began to learn how mistakes often pave the path to understanding.
Ultimately the Peace Corps is about empowerment, helping the world's poor help themselves. But there's something more that JFK left out of his groundbreaking Peace Corps speech. Personal growth lies at the heart of the volunteer experience. As the Peace Corps celebrates its historic 50th anniversary, this uniquely compelling book reminds us that the organization's mission is more relevant now than ever.
Fiesta of Sunset
The Peace Corps, Guatemala and a Search for TruthBy Taylor DibbertiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 Taylor Dibbert
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4502-7222-3Contents
Prologue..............................................................ixOne: Prior to Departure...............................................3Two: In Country.......................................................7Three: Peace Corps Training...........................................26Four: Arrival in Nebaj................................................42Five: Water Engineering...............................................55Six: Reconnect........................................................73Seven: Check Your Head................................................80Eight: The Road to Nowhere............................................90Nine: Visiban, Salquil, Quiché, and Quejchip.....................98Ten: Unconquered......................................................105Eleven: Consolidation Sensation.......................................116Twelve: Highway Robbery...............................................126Thirteen: A Return to the Motherland..................................141Fourteen: Army Ranger.................................................145Fifteen: Xepiun, Baztaja, Xebe, and Vicalamá.....................158Sixteen: Fiesta of Sunset.............................................176Epilogue..............................................................188Acknowledgments.......................................................191
Chapter One
Prior to Departure
"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put foundations under them." —Henry David Thoreau
April 2006: Dallas
My departure is less than two weeks away, and I'm ready to begin the journey. There will be two days of "staging" in DC, and then I'm off to Guatemala for twenty-seven months. Right now I'm trying to get my mental house in order. From my previous journeys, I've learned that this is perhaps the most crucial component of successfully living and traveling abroad. Without some semblance of inner peace, I'll never turn a foreign land into my home. At this point, I think the adventure will be much more intellectual and spiritual than physical. To clarify: I have no doubt that the work will be physically challenging. I only mean to say that the greatest challenges and more significant personal growth will come from within.
I hope to write frequently while I'm in Guatemala. I believe books are such a personal thing. And the writing of those books is infinitely more personal. It's crazy to think that the vast majority of people who consume books and literature have never and will never meet those men and women who have given us a piece of their lives. To me, publishing a memoir would be analogous to walking around naked in an airport—not something I would feel comfortable doing. Hopefully one day I will have the courage to try, though I doubt it.
Mentally and physically, I'm as ready as I'll ever be, although deciding what to take with me is tough. The Peace Corps packing list sheds no light on an already opaque situation. Choosing which books to bring feels like I'm deciding which children are allowed to enter my ark before the flood, but decisions must be made. Hemingway, Dostoyevsky, Steinbeck, and Bret Easton Ellis have all made the cut. Fortunately, my dad has helped me put tons of music on my new iPod. Most surprisingly, I discovered my favorite pair of words only yesterday: solar adaptor. I guess even electricity is a luxury in Guatemala. God, how poor are these people?
May 1, 2006
Today is the big day: I'm heading to Washington DC, for "Peace Corps staging," a two-day orientation. There's no turning back now. I'm harboring a highly diverse basket of emotions this morning. Yeah, there's a nice mix of everything in there, which basically means that I'm nervous as hell. I slept for maybe twenty minutes last night. I stayed up and listened almost exclusively to "Naive Melody" by Talking Heads. I probably listened to that one song seventy times.
I can't remember ever being this nervous. Two years of my mid-twenties will be gone when I come back! That's enough time for me to get lost, find myself, and then lose myself all over again. Once every three months, approximately thirty new Peace Corps trainees fly to Guatemala City to begin their service. Statistically speaking, one third of those folks will quit early. Quitting early in Peace Corps vernacular is known as "ETing." ET stands for Early Termination. From what I hear, people choose to leave for all kinds of reasons—with the desire to be closer to significant others in the United States and homesickness being the two most common.
Joining the Peace Corps is the greatest risk that I have ever taken. There are so many unknowns, so many concerns of mine that have not been allayed. I have no idea how this will turn out. Right now, I can't even contemplate an Early Termination. I don't need a shameful black mark on my life story. But what if I am wrong? What if I fail? Would I be doomed to a life of failure? If I left early, I would be embarrassed. I would feel terrible. I don't want to go home with my tail between my legs. I don't want to quit because I couldn't handle it. I hope I'm tougher than that.
Will my time in the Peace Corps leave a lasting influence? Ernest Hemingway, a man for whom my respect continues undiminished, spoke of Paris being a "moveable feast." The time that he spent there in the 1920s, in his mid-twenties, had a lasting effect on him—both in terms of his career as a writer and his view of the world. I turn twenty-four in December. If I am lucky, Guatemala will become my "moveable feast." If I am lucky, I will encounter trials and tribulations that I will grow to embrace as significant rites of passage. If I am lucky, my time in the Peace Corps will leave an indelible mark on my life. If I am lucky, it will be an experience from which I can draw inspiration until I breathe my last breath.
May 2, 2006: Washington DC
Despite what any Peace Corps official may say, "staging" is a complete waste of everyone's time. Our group filled out pointless worksheets and participated in some childish role-play activities. On one occasion, each group of five was asked to draw a picture for everyone else. This picture was supposed to convey how we were feeling about moving to Guatemala. The group next to ours drew a picture of a guy jumping off a cliff and then landing in a pile of rocks. Pure poetry! They got a big laugh, but only because that picture rang true in everyone's heart and mind. I can't believe I'm sitting around with twenty-nine people who have also joined the Peace Corps! None of us has any idea what we're getting into. Of that there can be no doubt.
May 3, 2006: Dulles International Airport, Washington DC
I use the airport bathroom near our departure gate. I slowly sip from a water fountain nearby. I have not yet realized that water fountains are a luxury. I buy a copy of today's Wall Street Journal. I flash my fancy Peace Corps passport. I board the plane. This is it. Fellow Peace Corps trainee Andrew Gall from New Hampshire sits across the aisle.
"Hey fella, what are you thinking?"
"Not much, Taylor. I just a second ago realized that this is it. There's no way to avoid it now. I'm going to Guatemala."...