I'm a little over half-way through my time in Toledo, and I am definitely burnt out. As I think I've mentioned before, this is a very different field experience for me, which has taken some getting used to. I'm usually with a group of like-minded American or European archaeologists, so there's built-in friendships (or potential ones at least), some sort of support network, and professors or at least more advanced grad students to bounce ideas off of at dinner. This time around, I'm much more on my own. Depending on the day and my mood, I would describe my situation as either "independent" or "lonely"; this attitude can change in only a matter of hours! So it's been a weird month - I'm not used to my mood changing that drastically all the time. I have made some friends in town, but people are in and out of town a lot doing research trips so they're not always around. And yes, have made local friends too! But if you're a woman and you're my age in PG, you're married and have three kids.
Before you start thinking that things are truly terrible down here, I'll tell you about some of the good things about living in PG! There is a great market in town several times a week, and I've been wanting to post pictures of it. If you've traveled with me, you know that I'm a bit obsessed with markets. I think they are fascinating places to get lost in, especially in Latin America. They are so beautiful and grotesque at the same time - flowers, vegetables, spices, grains, and then all of a sudden you turn the corner and there's half a dozen severed pigs heads staring you down. Another aisle brings the salty stink of fish. Eek! I love it! The PG market is not very big, but it's worth a few pictures.
So a couple weeks ago after I got back from the market I was so impressed with my produce that I thought I would take pictures of it to show you! I can also take a minute and tell you about food down here, in case you're interested. Basically, if you take advantage of the market and local staples you can eat pretty well. But it is repetitive, and that's when you go to the several restaurants in town. Anyways, so in these pictures I have black beans and split peas to make into soup, calaloo, a spinach-like green that is awesome in everything, beautiful tomatoes, onions, avocadoes, mangoes and bananas. The pine-cone shaped green things are interesting - lately if I see something at the market but I don't know what it is (I ask the women there, but they alwasy tell me to put it in caldo, which is a bigger undertaking than I'm willing to do for one person), I bring it home and ask my roommate what it is and what to do with it. She thinks this is hilarious for some reason. So these things are called ch'i' kai in Q'eqchi' Maya, and apparently are part of the ginger plant?? But that's not what they taste like. They add a really strong lemon-y flavor....random, but delicious. There's also a picture of the best yogurt in the universe...this Mennonite woman makes it from scratch in all different flavors - coconut is my favorite. It's amazing.
When I don't feel like cooking I usually go around the corner to the little shop that sells fresh tortillas and get some of those to have with eggs and tomatoes and the best canned refried beans ever. So all in all I've been eating pretty well -not always healthily, but definitely tastily! Lately I've been teaching myself to make curry. There is a strong east Indian community here, as well as a sizable Chinese population as well (ah, British colonialism!) so the grocery stores carry Chinese staples and curries and things. PG is one of the most diverse places I've ever been - Maya, Garifuna, east Indian, Chinese, Taiwanese, and a smattering of ex-pats and seasonal researchers. But everybody loves to party and eat barbeque on Saturdays, so it's a delightful culinary experience without pretense.
I also joined the local gym this month with a group of Cristina's friends, which has been great. It's a total "guy's gym" if you know what I mean. It's a musty cement room with loud music, a couple treadmills and the most odd assemblage of weight machines. I think it's where TV mail-order gyms go when their owners never use them. The owner's name is Pooh Bear (it's a nick-name, obviously, but I don't know his real name), he's this short, barrel-chested Creole guy who also teaches at the local high school. He's become our trainer of sorts. I already know my way around a gym, but he agreed to help train the other girls so I tag along. It's nice to be told what to do instead of having to motivate yourself on your own.
That's all for now. I'll write more about how work is going soon.