Jiaqi

I published my first blog post for my organization, SweFOR. It's it Swedish, but can nonetheless be found (and maybe google translated, if someone's that interested) at Guatemala.krf.se. It's just a reflection, and being me I already after reading it again this morning want to change everything about it. But that's okay, there will be more opportunities to write. 

In other news I'm back in Guate after my first field trip. Tired, but happy, and absolutely certain that what we do here matters. And that's a pretty awesome conviction. 

I'll try something more substantial soon, for now you will have to make do with the Swedish post.

Oh, and please, please comment, or email, or like the Facebook-post, or do something to let me know you're out there. Blogging stinks in the respect that I can see that an anonymous crowd has read what I've written, but without the response of emailing. I'd email each and everyone of you if time and Internet access allowed, but sadly it doesn't =(. I miss you, that's all. 

One thing that I've been thinking about a lot over the last little while is how my ideals and choices change here fron what they're like at home.

 

In Sweden I don't eat meat (if it's not served to me by someone else or part of a few very special dishes that I can't resist), Here I do, often without even asking if there's a vegetarian alternative.

 

In Sweden I recycle...everything. Here, I recycle...nothing.

 

In Sweden I by my hair- and skin products in an expensive webshop that only carried organic brands. Here I by them at the supermarket, and don't read the list of ingredients.

 

In Sweden I would never dream of taking a car or a taxi to go two blocks. Here I do that a few times every week.

 

It's not because I want to. It's not my fault that people look at you super funny if you ask for vegetarian food, that there are no recucling stations, that you can't buy (as far as I know so far) organic hair- and skin products or that you can't even walk three blocks alone after a certain hour in the capital.

 

But at the same time, some dark, hidden part of my soul kind of rejoices. In not having to take responsibility. In not being able to do everything right, and therefor being able to what's easy. It's kinda sad. I wish I felt worse about throwing my plastics in the "miscaleanous" (=only) bin.

 

At least I still don't eat giant shrimp (which are probably called something different in English, but you know what I mean).

 

Love

~me