RECOLLECT and REFLECT

For presentation by Marney and Bob Komives as their participation in the October 2023 dedication of a Peace Corps Garden at Colorado Sate University; Fort Collins, Colorado

 

1986, 18 years after: We have returned twice to our Guatemalan Peace Corps Site, Parcelamiento El Rosario, on the Pacific coast about 80 miles from Tapachula, Mexico. We had lived and worked in El Rosario from July of 1967 to July of 1969.

We first returned in March of 1976. By difficult coincidence we arrived as the country struggled to recover from a terrible earthquake that struck on February 4, killing 23,000 people. El Rosario, distant from the epicenter was not badly damaged. Knowing this we changed our travel to enter through southwestern Mexico. We only need look at the ground however to see the layer of volcanic ash that had been spewed out by the Volcano Fuego in 1975, ruining much of the harvest in the area. We got to hear our about-to-be four and six-year-old daughters communicate with friends in the Spanish language Bob had spoken to them since birth. It was in so many good ways an impactful trip.

In 1986 (Our daughters now 14 and 16), we were living in Costa Rica where Bob was working in watershed management. We took our vacation to Guatemala—including a return to El Rosario. We wanted to be sure to visit some people we had not seen during our 1976 visit. When we arrived at the 50-acre farm of the Mariano Sandoval family, Doña Inez excitedly urged us to go into the cornfield where the men were working. We ventured out, took off our shoes to wade a small stream, and then entered the tall corn where we surprised Mariano and his two now-adult sons. After a hearty greeting we walked together back to their home. We tell this little story because, as we sat down on chairs brought out onto the immaculately swept dirt patio, Doña Inez asked us if we would like a glass of lemonade. We saw in her eyes that she saw in our eyes the same hesitation we had each shown 18 years earlier. Whenever one or both of us would come by to discuss a project she would make the same offer. This day, however, she immediately smiled and said: “Don't worry, Don Roberto and Doña Margarita, ever since you were here we have boiled our drinking water!”

A wonderful conversation ensued, but the story ends here. From that moment, we could not wait to tell each other what we each felt on hearing the statement of Doña Inez “Finally, finally we know that we actually accomplished one thing in our two years of Peace Corps!”

After leaving that farm almost giddy with our something-accomplished feeling, we sought out Doña Teresa on one of the tiny lots in the Centro of El Rosario which was beginning to look more like a village than it had when we lived there and El Rosario was only a decade old . On one of the last few days of our two years in El Rosario, Doña Teresa had approached Marney and broached the subject of birth control. She had three small children. Seeing that Marney obviously had none, she confessed that she did not want to have more. ¿What should she do? Marney told her of the appropriate clinic in the city 30 kilometers away, but we would leave before Marney and Teresa could make the trip together. Teresa said she would go on her own. For 18 years, Marney wondered how things had turned out for Teresa.

We left our borrowed little pickup at the soccer field and walked to the dirt street where Doña Teresa lived. As we rounded the corner we saw immediately that her rancho, a small home with bamboo-like walls and palm-leaf roof, had been replaced by an equally small home of concrete block and metal roof. Teresa was sweeping the small shade porch in front. She looked up. When we were still more than 100 feet distant, Teresa let out a shriek of recognition: “¡Doña Margarita!”

She was in tears of gratitude and incredulity when she greeted us. She lead us to her porch hugging Marney all the way. Her tears continued to flow. She could not speak beyond her repeated few words of praise and gratitude to Marney. I stood with my daughters deeply moved not only for Marney and Teresa, but also for our daughters who were witnessing a profound something of what is Peace Corps, This scene continued for at least ten minutes--neither Marney nor Teresa able to go beyond tears, hugs and a few words into a conversation about the 18 years that had passed. That conversation eventually took place. It was positive.

As to the big question, before we left, Teresa introduced us to nine of her twelve children.

We said goodbye to Doña Teresa, the Sandoval Family, El Rosario, and Guatemala still feeling pleased to know for certain that we had accomplished at least one thing during our service as Peace Corps Volunteers. We could only hope that we helped a few others make small, positive steps in their lives. We do know for certain that that place and those people helped us--profoundly and positively. We left, content to know that good people like the Sandovals and Teresa are as happy as we that we shared two years of each other's lives.

 

 

1968, Our 18^th month: A note to family and friends back home.

 

2000, A brief return to Central America: We took a 3-month position with Peace Corps Nicaragua at the end of the year 2000. We developed a course in disaster preparedness for tiny communities devastated by Hurricane Mitch, and we trained 2-year Peace Corps volunteers to continue the program after we returned to Colorado. The course went so well that Bob wrote a poem about the source of success. We end with this poem.

Yesterday, our day that started well,
ended better,
brought success
not perfection
but good enough to compensate for past delay.

Today,
our day to glory
not worry,
but ponder why we chose to worry.

Success came as it had to come
by way of gift
     we did not give
     could not control,
     could not expect,
     but did accept
     from others who assumed success
     and (by their simple gift of faith)
     made success
     all
     but
     in-es-capable.

Tomorrow,
our day to try again
to be again
humble and optimistic. 

 

(c) 2023, Bob Komives; Fort Collins, Colorado