The following is an excerpt from the manuscript I have been working on/existentialist crisis-ing on for the past two years. It is a non-fiction book details experiences from living in Guatemala 2008-2012, with the working title of “A Gringo’s Guatemala” that is in its second drafting. 

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 Gossiping is a problem in most work places and at the project it was a scourge. The passive aggressiveness of the culture turned personal disagreements into blood feuds where workers tried to get their enemies fired by spreading rumors such as, “The people know, la gente sabe, Oscar is sleeping with his teachers.”

Rumors shade everything an uncertain gray. People denied legitimate accusations with the same insisting vehemence they denied false ones, and it became nearly impossible for me to discern the truth from the petty bullshit. One morning, I decided enough was enough and it was time to rally against these gossiping woes and delivered a carefully planned speech at the morning meeting with all 70 staff members present.

I began by asking my staff what the most popular sport in the world was. A dozen hands shot up, as many voices blurted out, “futból!”

There was consensus.

“Futból,” I said, using the words I’d practiced the prior evening, “Is not the most popular sport in the world. Gossiping is.”

The utter silence and shocked expressions in the room should have tipped me off, but I pressed on like a toddler determined to shovel all the frosting into his mouth before his mother returns to the kitchen. “And gossiping with other staff members has become huge problem here at the project. . .” Here was my Dead Poet’s Society moment. Should I stand on the chair?  My Good Will Hunting moment, It’s not your fault Will. “I understand that it’s normal and people gossip out of habit, but everyone needs to stop gossiping here at the office. It’s a bad habit. Gossiping hurts people.”

I concluded the meeting to a room of uncharacteristically silent faces; clearly this talk had dug into something deep.  After the room cleared I heard charged laughter of people losing their shit in the social worker’s office.

Later that morning principle of the school informed me timidly that the Spanish verb to gossip is Chismear. Then there is that awkward moment when he informs you that the word you had used in your speech was Chimar—one of the more vulgar ways of saying “to fuck.”