el fin

Well, I'm back in the States now, so this will likely be my last entry. Unless I forget some anecdotes or something.

Wednesday night, I had dinner with my (second) Guatemala family (the one I lived with for a month). Lily and Nicolina (the girl that replaced me) cooked, and I assisted since I have no actual cooking talent. Nicolina made a fabulous pasta dish with shrimp, and Lillian made a Chinese beef and broccoli dish. We actually had wine and beer, too. Eric introduced me to a Guatemalan beverage (which apparently they also drink in the west) which consists of 50% beer, 50% tomato juice, lime, and salt. Definitely makes Gallo (the budweiser-esque Guatemalan beer) better.

Earlier in the day, lily had informed me that our family had requested that I bring a cake for dinner. And, also, that I bring a cake from Xela Pan (a local bakery). And, furthermore, that I bring a chocolate cake with strawberries. Made me chuckle, but I was happy to not have to make any decisions about what to get.

I also went to the market and bought flowers for Nico (and my final Guatemalan family, too), as well as chocolate. S actually saved me, because I was walking around the Mercado Democracia for two hours and couldn't find any flowers (J had told me to buy flowers there). I finally gave up, and headed back towards home, when I ran into S. He told me he'd walk me to where the flowers are. Turns out there's an entire huge inside portion of the market, which I never would've found alone. There I found several flower stalls, with ladies who were happy to make me a bouquet while I waited. It ended up being 80Q for two huge bouquets--$10.

Anyway, dinner was awesome, and I got some pictures of my Guatemalan family, and we had great conversation. Lily, having been here for a month, can now speak some Spanish, so it was a lot easier for everyone to communicate.

After dinner, I went out with a bunch of Guatemalans, and it was a lot of fun. We figured out we could buy a bottle of 12-year rum for $130Q ($15, maybe?), so we split that.

Funny thing about Guatemala—they use “agua” as drink, basically. Which I didn't figure out until my last week when my teacher finally explained it to me. I learned this Wednesday night, when S asked me if I wanted some 'agua' but was referring to Pepsi. I was so confused. But, as it turns out, Guatemalans will ask, for example, what type of agua you'd like with your meal?

Thursday, my teacher and I took a field trip to Pollo Campero, because I hadn't yet made it there. Pollo Campero is a huge Guatemalan fast food chain with fried chicken. It's really good. I mean, it's no Chick Fil A, but it's pretty good! So yeah, we had fried chicken at 10 am, which was a lot of fun.

After class, at 1, my teacher decided that we should have 1 drink at the cantina. Some other people had already congregated there. So, of course, we ended up drinking for four hours in the middle of the day! At 5, I was like, 'I have to go pack!'

After a nap and dinner, I went out to El Arabe for a bit (where I hadn't been since my first week in Xela) for some live salsa music. I went to bed surprisingly early for my last night in Xela.

On Friday, I had my last day of class, complete with a trip to the Bake Shop (the Mennonite bakery that is amazing, and only open Tuesdays/Fridays). Jose gave me an exam, which I did okay on. (I rocked the grammar, but randomly forgot that llover was to rain . . . ). After school, we actually had our party in the afternoon, instead of the evening. Which was convenient for me. We had a pasta lunch, where we all brought pasta dishes. And I graduated. And then I drank. And then I almost missed my bus, except Pedro gave me a ride to the bus station.

So I spent my last night in Guatemala in Guate City with Steve and Jana. Who kindly fed me and such. Then we went out to a pretty cool bar, that had a live band that was really, really good. They described them to us as 'ska.' I'd revise that to 'Guatemalan ska.' But good. The trumpet player was badass, and I thought the lead guitarist was adorable. So, we ended up chatting with the band after the set and I went out with the band later. So I got to see a little of Guate-city night-life, which is refreshingly gringo-free after Xela.

The lead singer/guitarist told me (which was one of many times I heard this in Guate) that I didn't look American. I'm not really sure why they think this. Maybe because I'm not blond? Maybe because they mostly meet either hippie travelers or Southern baptist missionaries? It's a mystery to me.

So I was up at 730 to grab a cab to the airport. I didn't see much of the Guate airport upon my arrival, but it turns out it's really, really nice. Much nicer than most American airports. And I was able to use the WiFi at “AirDogs” by putting in “AirDo” as a password. Go figure.

My flight was basically me, a bunch of Guatemalans, and a huge group of Southern Baptist missionaries. The flight attendant talked to all the missionaries, but talked to me in Spanish. And gave me a Spanish customs form. So I think perhaps she thought I was hispanic.

Then I was stuck in Miami for a 5-hour layover. Which was slightly confusing, since it's in the states, but everyone continued to speak Spanish.

The guy at immigration asked, “what were you doing in Guatemala?” “Learning Spanish.” “Ah, how'd that go?” “So-so?” “Cuanto apprendiste?” And then I thought, oh shit, now I have to answer in Spanish. And if I can't, he won't believe me! So I said, “Yo apprendi un poco, pero no tan mucho que yo quiero.” Which may or not be correct, but probably vaguely makes sense.

After making it through customs, immigration, and re-checking my bag, I bought 24 hours of WiFi and settled down in a restaurant, where I spoke Spanish to my waiter.

While waiting for my flight to Orlando (I really probably could've driven to Orlando in the same amount of time), a woman from Ecuador asked me to borrow my computer, and I ended up having an entire conversation in Spanish with that family, too.

And then, at long last, after a 39-minute flight, I made it back to Orlando, and my Mom picked me up on time. (For which I was very glad, since I was entirely phone-less.)

El fin.

estoy teniendo sentido (yo espero)

This is destined to be an entry about odds and end that I haven't thought to write about before. I wish I was better about jotting down notes about what I want to write about. Sigh.

Last night, the son in my house (who is 24) insisted that the other student in the house and I both tell a joke. Of course, I don't know any jokes in Spanish. (Okay, that's not entirely true. I know a dirty joke or two, and one really silly one.) So we both translated jokes from English, which is a somewhat painful process. Z's joke was about an oso (bear) and a raton (mouse). Except he kept forgetting the word for oso every 30 seconds, which was itself entertaining. I told a joke with which many of you are likely familiar – the duck joke. With the voice. Except I was unable to do the voice and talk in Spanish at the same time (guess I need to work on that!). But hey, now I know the word for nail (clavo) and duck (pato). I managed to translate all of it except the part where he says “flat feet”--I cheated and just said “feet.”

Oh, by the way, for my mother—to tell a joke is “contar un chieste.”

Another completely unrelated story. I was talking to my Guatemalan friend this past weekend, and at some point I mentioned that my roof (of my apartment) has an amazing view, but I'm not actually allowed up there. He asked why, and I thought about chicken buses, and riding in the back of pickups, and running across streets in front of cars, etc. . . . and I realized that this concept would make no sense to him. Because the answer is 'it's dangerous,' except it's not—you're not really going to fall off the roof. But it's dangerous in the uber-cautious, always-worried-about-being-sued culture in the US. So I tried to explain the concept of worrying about liability, which was the closest I could get to an explanation that made any sense.

In spansh, “tiene sentido”--have sense. I think that's probably the hardest thing about learning Spanish. Trying to remember crap like that. Similar to all the prepositions, which bear little resemblance to English. I now have so much more sympathy for non-native speakers struggling with prepositions in English. They're hard because they're situation-specific, and I can't think of any good way to turn them into flash cards. Another example: instead of making someone understand, you would give them understanding. Prepositions are even worse. When you think about something, you “pensar en (in),” and when you dream about something you “sonar con (with).” Leaving a place requires a “de” (of) and almost anything you can think to do to a person (talk to them, look for them, etc.) requires an “a.”

Of course, one of the funny parts about learning another language is realizing curiosities about your own. My friend pointed out that in English you get on a bus, but you get in a car. I objected that the same was true in Spanish, since you 'subir' a bus, and not a car – only to have it pointed out that you actually can 'subir' a car, too.

And the verbs drive and ride make no sense in English, either. If you ride a motorcycle, you're driving, but if you're riding in a car, you're definitely NOT driving.

The one thing that is close to impossible for me right now is trying to figure out which to use between estar/ser and imperfecto/preterito. I usually know which is correct between estar/ser and which is correct between imperfecto/preterito, but when I have to make a decision about both at one time, my brain is just overwhelmed. I just made a chart so that I could visualize the four choices better, but it's still really hard. (For those who have never taken Spanish, ser and estar both mean 'to be', but they're used in different situations. Preterito is simple past tense – like “I walked.” Imperfecto is a different type of past tense which I think translates sort of like “I had walked” or “I used to walk.” Effectively, this means that there are four different ways of saying that something “was”--and each is correct in different situations.)

As I wind up my time here, I wish I spoke better Spanish, BUT if I think about it, I know I've learned sooo much in 6 weeks. Grammar-wise, I've learned more in 6 weeks than I did in more than a year in school. While there's still about 5 trillion tenses I don't know, I know all that I need to know to communicate sufficiently. My hope is that I've learned enough to allow me to practice on my own with comprehension. I.e., now it's time for me to start watching telenovelas in Spanish, but I have some chance of understanding some of it. I also am worried that when confronted with a Cuban or Dominican accent, I won't understand a thing.

One of my friends told me she hopes I'm able to take a little bit of my Guatemalan self back with me to NYC. I liked that. I've been collecting Guatemalan and other Latin music to aid in that endeavor. (There aren't a ton of Guatemalan bands, actually, but there are a few.) My teacher is very useful for things like this. He recommends music and rum. Although I swear all the guys here, if not romantics in life, are romantics in music. They sing all the words to the song, con gusto! It's cute. And they like these beautiful, romantic songs.

Guatemalans take their music seriously. One funny thing is that the chicken buses, which are pieces of crap, with seats and windows, etc., that are falling apart, are often equipped with nice(ish) stereo systems to blare latin music during the trips.

lago atitlan

Back from Lake Atitlan! As anticipated, I really didn't want to leave. If my travel partner (we'll call him S) hadn't needed to work tomorrow, I totally would've stayed for another day . . . or three.

Getting there was a bit of an adventure. We got to the Xela bus terminal (and when I say 'terminal', I actually mean a street lined with so many buses that it's impossible to breathe) a little after 9. Unfortunately, there was no bus service to either Panajchel or San Pedro (both towns on the lake) until at least 10. S didn't want to wait, so we hopped on a bus headed to Guate. After an hour or so, we got off at some small town, where the turn off is to go to the lake.

Unfortunately, there was very little traffic on the road. We thought we might just need to wait until the bus from Xela arrived, but then a microbus pulled up. They weren't going to San Pedro, but they insisted that if we went with them to Santa Clara, we'd be able to catch a bus there to San Pedro. So we hopped into this microbus. (A microbus is actually just a van. Larger than a minivan, but possibly not as wide as a full-size conversion van.) I counted, I think, 24 people in this microbus, including ourselves. I was lucky enough to have a seat, albeit with a little child halfway on my lap, whereas S was sitting on a overturned bucket that was functioning as additional seating. We were both in better straights than the several people who were simply standing.

When we arrived in Santa Clara, we realized we may not have made an entirely excellent choice. Santa Clara was very tiny, and there was very little traffic. We asked a guy who said to take a pickup truck, but we didn't see any. I was starting to feel like we were stuck in that (I think it's Archimedes') paradox, where every time, you go half way, and thus never actually reach your destination. Anyway, after wandering around for awhile, we at last found a pickup headed to San Marcos, by way of San Pablo. (Not our intended destination, but we figured it would work.)

We hop in the back of this pickup truck, and somewhere around 25 people jump in with us. There's nothing like holding hands with a bunch of strangers because you're all trying to get a handhold so as to not fall down. There was a guy selling pigs (you know, live ones) nearby, and one of the indigenous women, at the very last minute, decided to buy a pig. The guy throws the pick in a burlap sack, ties it up, and tosses it in the back of the pickup right in the middle of all the people.

The pig was freaking out. (I mean, it was in a bag, duh!) It kept running into people's legs, and they'd kick it away. It was squealing and snorting. I felt so bad for the pig. “Oh, the poor coche!” I kept exclaiming. (Side note: while “coche” is car in most Spanish-speaking countries, it's pig in Guatemala. “Carro” is car.) S is like, “it's just a pig. What do you think they're going to do with it when they get home?” S's mother's family were butchers and he and I have very different views regarding animals.

Anyway, the truck ride was certainly interesting. It was going down incredibly windy mountain roads to get to the lake. Think Pike's Peak-like roads. Except really narrow, no guard rails, and no visibility. When chicken buses come around blind curves (and the pickup in places) they just honk to warn other cars to stay out of the way. So, not only are we going down my favorite type of road, but I am standing in the back of a pickup truck with a squealing pig, a little kid literally grabbing my leg, another kid leaning against me, and lots of random people grasping my hand on the handrail. One of my “if you could only see me now moments.”

Not to mention that I was the only gringo in sight for literally 100% of this trip.

We finally made it to San Marcos, by way of San Pablo. San Marcos was beautiful. We wandered all the way down to the dock, where we found that we could catch a lancha (boat) to Jaibalito, where we were staying, every 20 minutes. Thus, we decided to have lunch. There's a lot of gringos in San Marcos, as it sort of has a yoga/meditation/wellness type vibe or focus. Walking through the town is cool. Once you leave the main road, you're just walking through these little garden paths. We ended up wandering to this wood-burning oven pizza place that was sort of off of the beaten path – and completely empty. We were the only ones there, so we got to claim a table on adorable second-story patio. The pizza was pretty decent, and the Gallo and water were quite nice after the journey.

From San Marcos, we caught a lancha to Jaibalito, the town in which our hotel was located. In fact, the hotel has its own dock, so the dropped us right off there. The hotel is basically built into a cliff. It's a bit of steep climb up stone stairs to get to the office and cafe. There's only 16 rooms, and they're spread out all over, across various paths that lead up and down and left and right. Along those paths, there's also all of these patios and places to sit, all of which have stunning views of the lake.

The view from our room was stunning. Because of the angle of the rooms built into the cliffs, when laying on the bed, you look straight out this window onto the lake and there's nothing – NOTHING – blocking your view. And, because of where Jaibalito is located, you have a perfect view of both volcanoes. From the room. Frickin' awesome.

We mostly just hung out at the hotel and admired the lake for the rest of the day. At 6:30 there was a “family style” dinner where we ate with the other guests. Turned out there were only 4 other people in the hotel that night. 2 American girls, one of whom had just spent 3 months in Antigua, an American guy who'd been working for an NGO in Guate City for 4 years, and his Guatemalan girlfriend. (I think S was glad he wasn't the only Guatemalan, as he had been positive the hotel would be full of gringos and that he'd be the only Guatemalan). It ended up being like a four-course meal, and was really amazing. Afterwards, we just hung out on the porch of the cafe in a hammock, listening to latin music and looking at the lights of all the pueblos around the lake. (There are, I believe, 10 different towns scattered around the lake. Some of them, like Jaibalito, are only reachable by boat. In addition, there appear to be scattered private residences around.)

As a side note, the shower in the hotel was far and away the absolute best shower I've had in Guatemala. The hotel uses fancy solar power to heat their water, and boy was it hot. And it had amazing water pressure. Did I mention I didn't want to leave the hotel?

This (Sunday) morning, we had breakfast at the hotel and caught a lancha to Panajchel, which my guidebook refers to as “Gringotenango” (place of the Gringos – in one or more of the Mayan languages). In Pana we caught a tuk tuk (oh, I really should have a picture of those. They're three-wheeled motorbikes with a back seat, basically. They're the same thing as CNGs in Bangladesh) to a nature reserve. The nature reserve was pretty gorgeous, although I wish I'd done the zip line. S wasn't that thrilled about zip-lining, and he's done it quite a few times before. I, of course, am hesitant to zip line because I'm scared of heights. But, I figured they just push you off and you can't do anything about it, so it's work out for me.

Anyway, instead, we just walked around the nature trails, which were gorgeous. We went to a beautiful waterfall, and walked over a gazillion swinging bridges made from rope and wood (and, admittedly, wire, although that doesn't make you feel much better about the pieces of rotting wood). We followed a path that took us back to the lake, to a nice secluded area without any boat traffic.

After the nature reserve, we had some really yummy Italian food back in Pana, and then spent the afternoon souvenir shopping (since I'm leaving in 6 days!). We missed the last direct bus to Xela, so S decided we should hop on a bus to Solala. From there, we got on a ridiculously full chicken bus to some other unknown destination. On that chicken bus, we were standing (/falling) for the majority of the time, although I eventually got a seat next to a breast-feeding mother, who had no particular shyness about breastfeeding in public.

From wherever we were, we got a third and final chicken bus to Xela, which was even more full. I spent a lot of time sitting with about ¼ of my butt on a seat that already had two full-grown men on it (remember, these are school buses, so the seats are made for two children), with my knees wedged across the aisle to keep from falling as we went around all the curvy mountain roads. Eventually, I actually got a (real) seat, although with S also trying to cram on the other side of me. I actually passed out. I woke up when the other guy next to me needed to get off, and decided that I must've gotten pretty comfortable in Guatemala to actually fall asleep on a chicken bus.

And that was pretty much the trip. I was tired when we got back to Xela, so I took a taxi (that cost more than all of the day's chicken bus rides combined) home.

muchos cambios hoy

I'm having a bit of an odd day, which really began yesterday. First, Janet, who is one of the sisters who runs the school, showed up at my door right before lunch yesterday. The first thing I could think of was that I was in trouble, although that's clearly a pretty absurd proposition. (She's seen me with one of the teachers after school 15 minutes before that, which gave rise to my fear, but really, only the teachers get in trouble—not the students.)

Anyway, she came to tell me that I needed to change houses today (Friday), because some girl from Denmark was arriving and she'd already been promised my room. I didn't really catch the details of why she'd been promised my room – I was paying more attention to the part where I had to leave.

Then, to make my day even weirder, my teacher sent me a text message at about 5:30 to tell me he was in a motorcycle accident and wouldn't be at school today. So I called him and found out that he was in the hospital and he broke his arm, but was otherwise okay. This is the second time he's broken the same arm in 6 months. (Although I guess last time it was a wrist and he didn't break it on his motorcycle). I asked if he was okay, and said, 'no! I broke my arm!' Poor kid. He's had a year with a lot of problems. Hopefully he'll be okay. Actually, rumor has it that the bigger problem is that he hit a girl in the street, who is in much worse shape than he is, which is realy what he needed to deal with today. I just hope everything works out okay.

But yeah, so today I had another teacher (one I know, but not very well), and then after school I immediately moved houses. Now I'm in a house with another student I know (who has been in the school a few weeks longer than me, actually). It's a bit weird, because he's pretty tight with his family. One of my other friends lived in this room I'm now living in, but she left last week.

Anyway, it'll be okay. It's just for a week, and this is a very, very pretty house. Even prettier than my last house, probably. And, I'm not going to be here this weekend.

This weekend I'm finally going to Lake Atitlan, which I am really excited about. It's supposed to be the most beautiful lake in the world, and not just according to Guatemaltecos! I leave in the morning, and I have a reservation at a hotel that's supposed to be incredibly nice with amazing views. It's in a sort of secluded town that can only be reached by boat.

Now the only question is what I want to spend my last Friday night in Xela. (I figured out that my flight is at 10 am Saturday, so I'll have to head to Guate Friday night to make my flight – ugh.)

cerrar con llave

I'm always amused by the ways in which Spanish and English are unexpectedly the same, and ways in which they are surprisingly different. Turns out there's not really a word for “lock” in Spanish, at least the way we use it. Instead of saying 'lock the door,' you say, 'close the door with a key.' But there is a word for locking, for example, your phone-although I think it mostly amounts to saying 'the phone is blocked.'

On the other hand, other phrases make perfect sense. Jose will tell me expressions in Spanish, and I'll frequently remark that they also exist in English. And, you can say the floor is hard, but also that you work hard in Spanish—same word, much like in English.

This week I've been sick. On Tuesday morning, Jose and I took a field trip. (Apparently an equivalent word doesn't exist in Spanish, although the idea of saying campoviaje amuses me. Also, they don't take field trips in Guatemala, which may be why they don't have a word for it.) Anyway, we went to the pharmacy to buy medicine. I asked for something for congestion, and they gave me nose drops. So I asked for a pill, and got “Panadol,” which appeared to be akin to Tylenol Cold & Sinus. It amused me because it had the 'GSK' logo on it. I noticed when we came in that the shelves were organized by pharmaceutical company—mostly companies I knew very well (aventis, glaxosmithkline, etc.) but with medicines I'd never heard of before. Anyway, Panadol seems to work just fine, and hopefully I'll get better without developing an ear infection or anything. I really don't want to have to try to go to a doctor in Guatemala.

I've just been trying to take it easy the last few days, and thus haven't done much of anything interesting, unfortunately. I've skipped out on the activities the last few days in order to sleep and rest more.

semuc champey

So my friend that I met my first week in Xela, who lives in Guate City with his girlfriend, and I have been talking about a weekend trip for a few weeks. On Thursday, he suggested we go to Semuc Chemey, which are these beautiful waterfalls/pools/mountains a few hours from Coban, which is itself four or more hours from Guate City. We finally actually got to talking plans at about 7 pm on Thursday night, at which point I realized I needed to miss class on Friday in order to make it to Guate in time to leave with S&J to Coban. So, at that point, I sent my teacher a facebook message to tell him that I wasn't going to be in class -- since I realized I didn't have his phone number.

I wasn't entirely sure which bus lines were going to have an 8 am bus, since it was too late to really figure that out. Xela Who magazine claimed Linea Dorada had one, and everyone always says they're the nicest. I packed a little bag, slept a little, and at 7:15 caught a cab to the terminal, where they told me they only had a 4 am and 2:30 pm bus. Damn. Luckily, I knew where I was, and that the Alamo terminal was only a few blocks away, so I wondered over there. They indeed had an 8 am bus, which I made with plenty of extra time. I was the only gringo on the bus.

S sent me a text with his address, and I eventually managed to get a taxi to take me there. Their apartment is absolutely beautiful, in Zone 15 of the City, which is fairly nice. S was vaguely impressed that I managed to get there, I think. Probably because my Spanish was completely awful the last time he'd seen me.

After a sandwich and a trip to the ATM, we caught a 2:45 bus to Coban. The going was pretty slow, as there were several places where passes were really terrible from landslides and the cars going in opposite directions had to take turns. Driving on a bus in pitch black on very twisty turny mountain roads is not scary at all, really.

Thankfully, the bus dropped us off just about 2 or 3 blocks from the hostel we were staying at. The hostel was really tiny (and very pretty) with a very nice restaurant attached to it. They had two dormitories with 4 beds each, so we were able to claim one of those for ourselves. We headed out in search of flashlights, toothbrushes, food, and beer, but found Coban to be entirely silent and mostly deserted. We did manage to find a store that sold flashlights but not toothbrushes (go figure). We found a bar/dance club which was completely empty. The people there were kind enough of point us in the direction of a Chinese restaurant, which actually turned out to be pretty good, albeit entertaining. I ordered sweet and sour pork (agriodulce in Spanish), and the waitress was insistent that I understood that it included bones. Huesos? Yes, huesos. Yo entiendo!

After that, we checked by the "club" to see if a crowd had appeared yet, but no such luck. In reality, we were all really exhausted (and I was still fighting off my head cold), so we just retired to our room to read and sleep. [[Side Note: I just finished the book 'The Art of Political Murder: Who killed the bishop? which was an excellent book. It is a sort of journalism-style book about one of the most famous murders in Guatemala history, which took place in 1998. It also is incredibly interesting and informative, and you'll learn a lot about Guatemala. Mom, you shouldn't read it until I'm home. ]]

Bright and early Saturday morning, we headed out on our tour of Semuc Chempey and some caves. The tour group was the three of us and two other couples who were staying in the hostel. One was from England and the other was from Italy/Switzerland. Plus our tour guide and the driver. We drove through absolutely beautiful country, but that's basically true of all of Guatemala. Once we got to a small Pueblo, we got out and switched to a jeep. Three of us had to cram in the back of the jeep, which was very much not comfortable. (Our guide rode outside on the spare tire, and somehow seemed to be more comfortable than us.)

We got to this hotel in the middle of nowhere where we picked up two more girls and stopped for a beer. From there we walked about 2km through the mud (ewww!) to Semuc Chempey. Once we got there, our guide gave us the choice of heading to the viewpoint first or the pools first. I was already exhausted by the time we got there, what with trying not to fall in the mud and whatnot, so I voted pools. Everyone else voted viewpoint, even though our guide explained that it was 45 minutes straight uphill.

I seriously could not keep up with everyone, but I did eventually make it up. This was a pretty damn steep climb, much of which consisted of very steep stone or wooden stairs (each a foot tall, which is even weirder when considering the average height of a Guatemalan). Rudy stayed back with me to make sure that I'd make it. He kept telling me "Si puedes" (yes you can), and I kept responding that this was horrible. (Or, rather, 'horible,' which is way more fun to say.) I did eventually make it, and I had to admit that the viewpoint was pretty magnificent. Basically, you're looking down into a river that cuts through the mountains. It begins as very large water falls, trickles down through 6 or 7 crystal clear, incredibly tranquil pools, and then eventually resumes its course as a rushing river. The bottoms of the pools were rock, not dirt, which probably helped with the beautiful clarity.

After our lunches, we headed downhill to the pools. I wasn't tired on the downhill trek, but I was struggling to keep up since I did not want to move too quickly and fall down the mountain (which didn't look like it would be that difficult). At the bottom we shed our shoes for flip flops and waded into the top of the pools near the big waterfall. Rudy showed us the hole that the water rushes into, where you would die if you fell in. We took a lot of photos, and then headed back to change into swimsuits and swim!

Swimming was amazing. Rudy had us jumping from one pool into the next one down. (This is why having a guide is important; he told us exactly from where to jump.) These ranged in height from 2-3 feet up to maybe 10 or 15 feet. It was terrifying, but awesome. In between the jumps we got to swim leisurely through the pools.

I'm not sure I've seen anything more beautiful. When resting in the pools, we were surrounded by beautiful green mountains, trickling water falls, roaring waterfalls in the distance . . .

Rudy was worried about me when we were walking across walks between pools, etc. I had a small head cold, and it turned out my typically horrendous balance was even worse than usual. (Actually, i'm not sure my balance is usually horrendous. It's much better than many other of my physical attributes.) In any case, trying to balance on slippery rocks with a head cold is not the most brilliant idea, but, hey, I'm alive and such.

After swimming we hitched a ride in our cramped jeep back to the hotel for a short break (and another cerveza), and then we headed to the caves. The caves are sacred for the Maya that live around there. (Our guide was Mayan. As is not too uncommon in Guatemala, particularly in rural areas, his mother doesn't speak Spanish -- only K'iche, one of the many Maya languages.)

Throughout the caves, Rudy pointed out all the rock formations that look like animals and objects, and he also showed us an area which is an ancient Maya sacrificial altar. (He also insisted that despite stories to the contrary, the Mayan did not sacrifice humans, only animals). Around the altar, the rock is all black from years of fire. (The rest of the rock is close to white).

Around sunset, we went and sat in the entrance to the cave and watched all the bats (hundreds of thousands) fly out. It was fairly intense.

Apparently if you go on the two-day tour, there's another cave you can visit and tube through. The one we went in has carved paths for walking, although when you get to the end, you can see that the caves goes on and on. Rudy says they've explored it 18 km past that point.

And that was pretty much the trip. It seems to take FOREVER to get back to our hostel in Coban, and all we wanted was a hot shower. We were covered in mud and our clothes/bathing suits were still damp. Unfortunately, upon arrival in the hostel, we discovered no sign of the hot water the hostel claimed existed. So, instead, we changed into clean clothes and ate a ridiculously huge meal at the very nice restaurant attached to the hostel.

In the morning, there actually was hot water (turns out it had been broken), and I had the best shower I've had since arriving in Guatemala. Unfortunately, I think had to put back on my mud-caked jeans, as I failed to bring more than one pair of pants with me. D'oh!

me siento un poquita mala

I think I'm finally coming down with the cold/sore throat that has been going around the school for the last month. Crap. Perhaps I overdid it a bit this week.

On Monday, for my birthday, I ended up being out until almost 4 am. Oops. I did make it to school the next day, but a bit late. My teacher, who actually was with me for the whole night, was on time and in much better shape than I was, I think.

On Mondays, the activity at the school is usually to teach English to kids in public school. Except, it hadn't happened for various reasons for my first three weeks here. (Independence week; the week after independence week; rain). I wasn't going to sign up on Monday, but my teacher is in charge of the afternoon activities this week, and he made me. They needed at least four students, and they were short one. I didn't understand why they needed at least four students until I got there. It's because there's 4 classes of maybe 20 or 25 11- or 12-yr-old boys.* Basically, Jose handed me a sheet of paper with the family tree on it and told me to teach them the words for the family.

Talk about ridiculous. And intimidating. I thought it was going to be one-on-one tutoring, which I felt like I could do. But no. And this is effectively the equivalent of an inner-city school in America. The kids don't sit still--ever. My kids were jumping up and down, yelling at each other, making paper hats and paper airplanes, etc. I didn't succeed in getting them to write anything down. About the only thing I could do was get them to repeat the vocabulary words.

And, to make matters worse, I tried to combine it with a phrase about names, which they had theoretically learned before. So I wrote down the phrase 'what is his/her name?' and 'his/her name is ... ?' Then I tried to ask a couple students individually--which just freaked them out. I successfully asked one boy the name of his mother before totally messing up and asking this other boy the name of his father. And then he had to explain to me that he didn't know because he didn't have a father. Yup, I'm a terrible person.

*As a weird side note, the reason that the class was only boys is that in the public schools in Guatemala, the girls (or boys) go to school in the mornings and the boys (or girls) go to school in the afternoon. In this particular school, the girls are in the morning, so it's only boys in the afternoon. In the colegios (the private schools), they all go to school only in the morning--at least in the lower grades. The kid in my house is home for lunch every day (as are the older brothers who work).

Today we played futbol again. I think I did maybe slightly better this time. At least for the first half of the game. By the second half of the game I felt like I was about to collapse. It was really sunny and warm in the sun today, but the air was really cold and hurt my lungs. It's actually gotten colder the last few days. The padre of my family said it was 4 degrees the other morning, which I guess is about 40 degrees fahrenheit. I find it interesting that they only use the metric system here, EXCEPT for weight, which they do in pounds. Go figure.

I can't believe my time here is running out so frickin' quickly. I only have two weeks left after this one, and this one's almost done, too. It's insane. It's going by too quickly. I wish time would slow down so I didn't have to leave so soon. I'm also running out of traveling time, but the weather has actually been absolutely beautiful this week, so maybe I'll go somewhere this weekend?

Mi Cumpleanos! (y mas)

Today is mi cumpleanos! I think they like birthdays here a lot more than in the states. I like it. All the teachers and students sang me happy birthday in Spanish and in English. None of our other-language-speakers were in attendance today, or Jose was going to make them sing in those languages, too! (the student de Hong Kong is gone for the week and the one de Holanda had the day off because his teacher had to run an errand. The rest of us are from the states or Canada.) Also, pretty much every teacher gave me a hug and a kiss for my birthday. They wish you happy birthday, and similar to the states, say that they hope you have many more birthdays. (Except it's in the verb form. Like, I hope you 'turn older' many more times, basically.) So, I am enjoying my day.

This morning, my family gave me hugs and wished me happy birthday, too. So sweet! I got a new teacher today, Jose. I think it's going to be good for my Spanish to talk with someone else and learn different words because I'm with a teacher. Actually, today I learned about punching and breaking bones b/c my teacher punched someone on a soccer field this past summer and broke his wrist. Oh, boys. Jose let me skip homework since it's my birthday. Yay.

Tonight, we're meeting up to celebrate my birthday. I'm excited. It's a Monday, but that doesn't mean a ton to the students. (It's harder for the teachers, most of whom are also students in the afternoon.)

We actually partially celebrated my birthday on Saturday night. Saturday day, we went to Las Cumbres, which is a hotel with “natural saunas” (i.e., fed from steam from a volcano). Sarah and I also got massages.

Getting there was sort of interesting. Friday night, we asked a couple of the teachers to explain how to get there, and they said we needed to catch a bus near the gas station. I said, “the Esso station?” and they said, “no, the Shell station.” Sarah, who was with me, said, “oh, I know where that is.” So, I say, great. Saturday morning, Sarah, two other students, and I meet at the school and Sarah leads us to the Esso station. I was like, “I thought you said you knew where the Shell station is!?!” It turned out it was just a few blocks further. Chris was nice enough to wander around and ask everyone 'Zunil? Zunil? Donde?' until we found the correct corner on which to wait for the correct chicken bus, which actually came pretty quickly.

Chicken buses are interesting for many reasons. One thing that I like is that you don't pay when you get on. There's a conductor of sorts. The conductor spends most of the trip riding in the door, halfway out of the bus, yelling the bus's destination. But, at some point (or a few points), he'll come through and collect money from the passengers. He asks w here you're going and tells you the appropriate cost. Much like a conductor on a train. I was pretty impressed with his ability to keep stuff straight closer to Zunil, when the bus was jam-packed full of indigenous women with baskets on their heads.

Anyway, we made it to Zunil, where we had been told to hire a pickup to take us to Las Cumbres. We started to get worried when we didn't see any pickups, so we talked to this guy who told us to wait 5 minutes or so. Sure enough, a pickup came by and we hopped on.

Las Cumbres was an interesting place. When we arrived, there was no one around. We stood there for 5 or more minutes, until one of us finally walked around to investigate. He managed to rouse someone who took us to the sauna and gave us robes for massages. The sauna is really, really hot, but pretty neat. There's basically just a hole in the ground from which the steam comes. I meant to take a picture of the sign providing the rules of the sauna because it was such hilarious Spanglish, but I forgot. They told us they'd come get us in 30 minutes for our massage, but I think it must've been closer to an hour. Then we had a conversation about the appropriate thing to do with our stuff (in Spanish) that must've lasted for 15 minutes, even though the point was incredibly simple. The massage was good, although it ended up costing 100Q more than I had thought. (Still like $25 for an hour, though).

We went out to the road to try to catch a pickup back to Zunil to catch a bus back. It's a lot like hailing a cab, except that it's okay if there's other people in it already. We waited for awhile before a truck came by with 5 kids in the back. We hopped into the back without either (a) telling them where we were going or (b) asking them where we were going. I think the appropriate thing to do would have been to tell them before hopping in where we'd like to get off. So, once we were in the truck, sitting under a canopy (as it was raining), we asked the kids if they were going to Zunil and they said no. Nope, going to Xela, to the hospital. We asked the what zone the hospital was in, but they didn't know. But, since they were going to Xela, we figured we might as well just stay in the truck. The kids were really cute and cool. For half the trip, they were playing with play money (like monopoly money). At some point we realized that we were in Zona 1 in Xela and we told the kids we wanted to stop. They yelled, 'Papa, papa!' and got him to stop. So, that worked, and even saved us Q1 each, I guess (because I care a lot about 12 cents). Although I ended up getting my jeans really muddy and gross from the truck because of the rain, etc. There is something really funny about the juxtaposition of the pampering of a massage, and getting home by crouching inside the bed of a pickup truck while getting really dirty.

Anyway, when I got home, I ended up just passing hour around 4 or so for hours. I had intended to just sleep for an hour, run to the store, and go out that night. (It was the last night for one of the Canadians and sort of my birthday). Instead, I just never woke up. Or, at least, never got up when I did wake up. But, a couple of my friends kept calling me until I finally picked up at like 11:15. And then Sarah insisted they I come out, RIGHT THEN. “You have 5 minutes to be at the cantina,” she said. “But I need to shower!” “No you don't. It's dark. Put on some perfume and get your ass here in 5 minutes.” “I need at least 10.” “You have 7.”

So, I got dressed and ran out to meet everyone as they were leaving the cantina. They then decided that we needed tequila shots. Or, more specifically, that I needed tequila shots. I tried to explain that I don't DO tequila, and that tequila and I aren't friends, but to no avail. Zach and Sarah bought me 6 shots. I said, “I'll do 2.” They said I had to do at least 3. I was thinking that that would shut them up, so I did 3. At which point they're like, 'great' and hand me another one. I kept trying to say 'no, no,' but Sarah was having none of it. After shot 5, I was like, 'I'm going to die.' So Zach said he'd drink half of it. He took like the tiniest sip ever and gave the rest to me. So that's how I did 5 and 2/3 tequila shots in a span of about 5 minutes.

Thankfully, I was actually pretty much okay. We danced and danced, and then went to the after party and danced some more. I had a really good time, and my hangover (goma) was actually not too bad. Plus, I woke up at like 9 am and couldn't get back to sleep. Go figure.

Sunday (yesterday) was the market day in Xela. Most of the pueblos have a market day once or twice a week, but Xela only has one once a month, on the first Sunday of the month. It's kind of cool. The whole park is taken over by these vendors and they even prop up all these temporary restaurants. Saturday was also some kind of holiday, so there was some extra crazy stuff, like these defunct kids rides that looked like they'd been built in about 1950 and stopped working 20 years ago. Some of them were literally being run by manpower, not electricity. Two of my friends actually rode the boat ride. You know the one that swings up and down and goes to an almost 90 degree angle from the ground. They said they were pretty sure there was no electricity involved, and the guy running it kept jumping in and out of the ride.

We also got these tostada things and churros (yummy). Some of my friends got this hot milk drink that seems to basically be hot milk plus liquor (and maybe cinnamon or something). There's also a hot fruit drink. Lots of interesting things, but I didn't want to either get sick or completely ruin my dinner. My family actually came to the market while I was there, and they saw me and they all waved. They're so cute. I picked up toys for the two kids in my house, too, although I haven't give them to them. I'm worried they won't like them. They're just really cheap and small, but whatever. Making kids happy is usually easy.

el dia del nino

Today is “El Dia Del Nino” in guatemala. Kids get the day off school, and their parents give them gifts. It's pretty cool. It's like (American) Christmas.

Anyway, my school supports something like 50 kids in various ways that enable them to receive an education. (I'm not really clear on the specifics; they're kids from outside the city who wouldn't go to school without this help. That's my understanding anyway.) Instead of the normal Friday night graduation party, we had a fiesta for the kids this afternoon. It was sort of weird, but I think they enjoyed it. We actually put on both a play and a dance for the kids. The dance was apparently some folk dance, but it's like the weirdest thing I've ever seen. I was in the play, where we did this story about the creation of man and woman and about how women have rights equal to men. (Oddly, the word for 'rights' (as in human or inalienable ones) is the same in Spanish as the word for 'right' (as in the opposite of left). I wonder why that is, or if it was simply imported from English?)

The school also fed all the kids hot dogs and cake. (They really like hot dogs in Guatemala, and they call them 'cheveres,' which is apparently different from Mexico.) They also gave all the kids little gift bags with candy. And socks. There were individual gifts, too, and extra gifts if they got up and recited a poem, did a dance, or sung a song. It was an interesting time.

As a side note, I don't have more pictures of Guatemalans in general and kids in specific because they are not too keen on having their pictures taken. It's not polite to do it without asking permission, particularly in rural areas or for indigenous people.

Other side note: “indigenous Guatemalans,” i.e., Mayans, look Asian. Except for the eyes, I guess. But I seriously thought this one guy was Vietnamese for two weeks. But no, he's just indigenous.

yo no quiero salir

(30 septiembre)

Today was the day of the sixth month list in federal court land. Seems so far away!

Last night, we went out dancing at a place I hadn't been yet. Like “La Rumba,” where we usually go, but slightly “classier.” Like La Rumba, it was full of gringas dancing with Guatemaltecos. They actually didn't play enough salsa for me, though, since I was eager to “try out” what I've learned in class. I danced salsa (badly) for a while with Selvin, and then after that they started playing rap or hip hop or random latino musica. It was still a lot of fun, though, and I danced a lot.

When I got home, I just lay in bed for some time pondering whether I *really* had to leave October 23. I'm rather happy here, although I realize this doesn't exactly qualify as a real life. And I'm healthy! I eat 3 meals a day, dance salsa almost every day, and walk around a lot. I keep a pretty good schedule, and I actually wake up before my alarm clock most mornings, which has never happened to me before in my entire life. (And at 7 am, no less!) Originally, my firm had offered me a January start date as an alternative, and I started thinking about whether they might still let me switch. But alas, I suppose vacation has to end and my real life has to begin.

I'm actually really starting to like salsa dancing. I'm still not very good at it (nor will I ever be, I suppose, since I lack sufficient rhythm), but I enjoy it. Now that I know just the very basics, it's fun as long as I remember not to think too much. No, really. The great part about being the girl is you just get to follow. So you just sort of do the basic step, and then if the guy drops your hand, you spin. If he pulls your hands upward, you turn out into open position. And so on. Of course, this only works if the guy knows what he's doing, but there always seems to be a plethora of excellent male salsa dancers around.

I did sort of throw a mini-tantrum this morning at school. Tantrum isn't really the right word; more like gave a glare or two and asked nicely. The boys (i.e., the male teachers, all of whom are much younger than the female teachers – I have no idea why) have been making fun of me to the extent that i've stopped wanting to speak spanish around them. If I speak in Spanish, they make fun of my Spanish. If I speak in English, they give me shit for not talking Spanish. It's a no-win situation. It's not actually malicious; it's probably even flattering, but it does affect my confidence. So today I asked them to stop, because it's just gotten to the point of being ridiculous. (Claudia says it's a flattering thing; they pay me a lot of attention because I'm somewhat unusual in terms of the typical student. In summary: I'm a yuppie rather than a hippie. You wouldn't believe the number of people at my school who simply quit their job and moved to guatemala indefinitely to learn Spanish and travel. Sometimes I wish my life was more like that, but most of the time I remember that I actually like my life a lot.)

la lluvia. mucha mucha lluvia.

I am so, so sick of the rain and the cold. It won't stop raining! We actually saw a very little bit of the sun this morning, which was exciting. I know it's rainy season, but I believe in the typical rainy season, it's more like last week or the week before. It's sunny in the morning, but it might rain at some p,oint in the afternoon or night or both. But when it's not raining, it's sunny. Now it's just pouring, day and night. I haven't seen rainstorms like this – outside of hurricanes in Florida – since I lived in Alabama and it would rain for a week straight, really heavy like this.

And I dread showers. The shower is decently hot, but not hot enough to make up for the fact that the bathroom is effectively outside and thus 50ish degrees. I've been taking showers in the evenings right before dinner and after salsa, which is fine except for the cold. I then crawl under the covers and have no interest in moving again. I haven't been out at night in days, because it's been raining and I don't want to get out from under the covers! Last night, I got under the covers while finishing my homework, and fell asleep with the light on, my jeans on, and my contacts in. on the bright side, I didn't get cold during the night. But I felt really bad because electricity is very expensive in this country.

Anyway, I haven't been up to much that's very interesting. Our activities keep getting canceled due to rain. Yesterday, my big accomplishment was mailing my friend's phone charger to him in Guatemala city. I went to the post office, where it turned out they don't sell boxes OR envelopes. So then I visited a couple of stores looking for an appropriate container, but apparently the concept of a 'padded envelope' doesn't exist in Guatemala. Finally I just bought two envelopes, and wrapped it twice. When I brought it back to the post office, the lady was somewhat confused that a gringa was sending something to guatemala city. “A guatemala?” she asked. To make her feel better, I also sent two post cards to the states. Anyway, hopefully it will get there okay.

Yesterday we also visited a women's domestic violence shelter. It's actually the only one in the entire country, and until a few years ago, it was the only one in all of Central America. Right now, there are about 35 or 36 people living there. The government doesn't give them any money, but they do send women their way. A lot of the “women” are actually just girls, some as young as 11 or 12. A lot of the really young ones were impregnated by their fathers. Abortion is illegal here. Technically, there is an exception for rape (or maybe just incest? I'm not sure), but apparently the process takes too long to be of any practical significance. Anyway, we bought them a bunch of fruit (which they don't get much of), and we hung out with some of the kids for a while. We sang them some kids' songs in English, and we even attempted (badly) to sing 'head and shoulders' en espanol, but we didn't do so well. It also doesn't rhyme in Spanish. The girls sang us a song, including the Barney song in Spanish.

Today we were supposed to go to Baul, which is a little park above Xela that's supposed to be cool. Unfortunately, the roads to get there are bad, so we can't go. I had wanted to leave Xela this weekend, but all of the teachers keep saying not to, that it's too dangerous, and that the roads are in too bad shape. So I guess I'm stuck in the city for another weekend, which only gives me like 2 or 3 more weekends to travel around the country! Argh. The rain is seriously starting to frustrate me. It's supposed to rain less in October, but it's almost October and so far it hasn't slowed down.

futbol and bolsas

I am so sore from playing futbol yesterday. I felt fine last night, but today . . . ugh. At least it was a lot of fun. My friend Sarah was sitting on the sidelines watching, and she later described this scene . . .

We were playing on a small field with artificial turf and a roof (nice, since it was raining, per usual), located in the middle of nowhere. The guy who drove us out there was the fattest Guatemalan I have seen, and he hung out on the bleachers on the other side of the fence with his tummy hanging out, laughing and laughing at everything that happened in the game. At one point, some cops dropped by and watched the game for awhile, too. Then, near the end of the game, a woman in traditional Mayan garb walked by (between the bleachers and the actual field) with like 3 cows. Not to mention that pigs and roosters were the background noise to the entire game!

Anyway, it was fun. Some of the boys (and one of the girls) were really good. I mostly just kicked wildly and tried to stay out of the way of the players on my team who were actually good. (We kicked the other team's ass.)

The boys threatened not to shower before our hippie-themed-party at school that night (so as to be fully in character), but thankfully they did. Hippie night was not as lame as I imagined, and the "adult" pinata that we got for the birthday kids was a blast. The rest of the night was fairly short lived. Went to the dance club, and then went to the after party, but apparently someone didn't pay off the right people, as the policia shut down the after party really early.

As a side note, everything in this country exists in bag-form. It's really weird. I guess the plastic to make bags is cheaper than the plastic to make bottles (or, at least, less), so stuff is in bags. For example, you can get bottled water . . . in bags. Some of the normal American brands, like Hellman's mayonaise, for example, also come in bags. Oh, and hotels have little ketchup-like packets of shampoo instead of bottles, which actually makes way more sense size-wise.

esta semana

Okay, it's been forever since I wrote. I've been really busy.

On Tuesday, I went to my first salsa lesson with two of the Canadian girls. We ended up going ahead and buying 5 lessons (it's cheaper that way . . . about $3 per lesson). After our lesson, I ended up hanging out with our teacher for awhile and talking. He doesn't speak that much English, so it's a good incentive to speak in Spanish. (He teaches salsa and teaches at the school. Several of the teachers at the school don't speak much English – or any). I guess I spent the rest of the night studying on Tuesday because my teacher made me learn something like 100 irregular verbs on Monday and Tuesday and write almost 200 sentences!

On Wednesday, it was the birthday of three students and one of the teachers, so we had a big party. I was out really late – like 1:30 or something. It was so much fun, though. Let's see...the weirdest thing that happened during that night was that this older dude (Guatemalan) came up to me and told me 'I am leaving, but you are so beautiful.' (In English). That in and of itself isn't that weird, but later in the evening this girl walks up to me and starts speaking to me in Spanish. I asked her to slow down, and she slowed down to the point of, I think, making fun of me, and then took me over to meet the same guy – who, as it turned out, was her brother. Maybe it's just me, but attempting to pick up girls for your brother seems somewhat strange to me.

Yesterday, in the afternoon, we made chocolate. In the morning, we toasted the peeled the cacao (?) beans (?). Who knew you had to peel chocolate? Then, in the afternoon, we went to this place to grind the beans and mix it with azucar and then powder it. I don't have any pictures from that because they didn't allow pictures. Except, a cat started meowing, and I asked the girl, 'gato?' (This place is attached to these people's house, as many businesses are in Xela). Anyway, the girl (I say girl, but she's older than me) says 'si,' and hands me a gato! I was like, uh, okay. I mean, I like cats, so it was fine, and it was a sweet cat. But then she's like, 'stay there' and she wants to take a picture of me and the cat. Go figure. Then she asked me to put down the cat and pretend like I was grinding chocolate so that she could take a picture of that. Of course, none of this was for my camera. I think maybe it was for their advertising or something? Who knows—the whole interaction was bizarre.

Anyway, all I can say about making chocolate (at least that part of it) is that is very, very far from sanitary. They don't clean the machines. Just put more and more chocolate in it. Not to mention she had me touching the machine after touching the cat. And they use their hands to actually mix the chocolate and sugar (although they do wash their hands before mixing it, thank goodness).

After that, we returned to school where we made chocolate bars (some people made shapes, like hearts or letters) and also made a chocolate drink, to which we added ice cream and kahlua. (You'd be thrilled, Mom). I don't love the chocolate—I think maybe we burned some of it in the morning, which is very easy to do, apparently. It's okay. Martin (the kid in mi casa) likes it, though.

I also had my second salsa lesson yesterday, which was even more difficult. Plus, Luis had me dancing with a guy who was literally about 4 feet tall and about 12 years old. He was a good dancer, but it's really hard when I'm doing spins and stuff. Guys in Guatemala are so short. Till (the German guy) is like 5'10” or so, and I was teasing him that in Guatemala, he's ridiculously tall. My teacher is about my height, and she is really, really tall for a woman in Guatemala. I'd say most women don't clear 5 feet. Sarah, the German girl, is probably 5'9” or 5'10” with long, long blond hair and blue eyes—so of course the Guatemalan men are just completely fascinated with her.

Anyway, tonight's the graduation party, and SEVEN students are leaving. I think that leaves 9 students next week, plus we're getting two new ones. I'm really sad about all the students that are leaving, though. They're my faves. At least Sarah will still be in Xela – just not at school anymore.

nada

I've been really busy the last couple of days, so I haven't had time to write. I apologize if I haven't been very good at answering emails, either.

Anyway, not much has happened lately, although I did got to my first salsa lesson yesterday. That was fun, but difficult. I need to get some salsa music so I can practice. I just wish I were a better dancer. I can remember the steps, but then if I try to move my hips, too, I forget the steps!

My favorite thing I learned yesterday (no, seriously, i laughed at this for a long time) is that the kids' television show 'Dora the Explorer' is called 'Dora la Exploradora' en espanol. Seriously, made my day.

Anyway, more later. I need to get home to shower and do my homework before dinner and before a birthday party for several of the students.

casa nueva

I was really lucky with rain my first week. It didn't rain much, and when it did, it was pretty short and I could just stay inside. The last two days it's rained a lot. Today it's been raining on and off for the last 4 hours (mostly on for the last 2). I'm sort of stuck in my room. Even to get to the rest of the house, I must go out in the rain. I don't know what I'd do anyway. The activity today is yoga class, and it's apparently really hard so I'm not so interested.

Anyway, I love my new house! I moved into my friend's casa yesterday, since he left Saturday. It's really, really nice. The parents are so nice. They took me up to my room and showed me around, and it went much smoother than last week. I guess I understand a lot more than even a week ago, because I was able to have an entire conversation with them, too. They're really good about correcting my spanish, which is very helpful. There are like 4 kids, I think, ranging in age from 10 to 26. The 26-yr-old is married with a small child. She's 3, I think. She's really cute. I just met her and she decided she liked me. So she held my hand and we walked around and then she had me pick her up. I can understand maybe half of what she says. It's sad when a 3-yr old can speak better than you!

The new house is so nice. The bathroom is tiled, and there's a real tub with really pretty tile. No more cement! The water pressure is even a little bit better. The mother of the new house is such a good cook. I think she's incapable of cooking anything bad. This morning we had amazing pancakes, and for lunch we had something that resembled risotto with sausages.

There is another student in the house, too. Lillian. She's from Hong Kong and this is her first week at school. She speaks zero spanish, so I've actually (strangely) been translating a bit for her. The fact that she is Chinese is basically amazing to Guatemalans. They do things like ask to take pictures with her. They say and do all kinds of things that would be really offensive in America, but it's just because they don't know any Chinese people, I guess. (For example, my family here did the universal 'pull the corner of your eyes down' to indicate that someone is Asian. They also don't really know the difference between Chinese and Japonese.)

I really miss my two amigos that left Saturday, as I was enjoying being able to just follow them around. Now, Lillian asks me where to go, and I'm like, 'No se!'. Having to make decisions sucks. I did head over to one of the mercados yesterday, though, and picked up two new sweaters and two new blouses. Yay.

Remember the story about how I couldn't say my teacher's name correctly? Well, when I was mispronouncing it, the guys though I was saying 'Gloria.' So, today, they kept calling my teacher Gloria all morning but wouldn't tell her why. Apparently, on break, she called one of her friends (who had also been out with us – not sure how she knew he'd know), and asked him why everyone was calling her Gloria. She was quite amused, and when I introduced myself as 'Sydney,' she said 'No, no, Gloria!' I've already picked up two nicknames. Great. (The other is 'Yuppie', which is a somewhat longer story. Only one teacher calls me that. I call him 'Preppy.')

In point of fact, my name is incredibly difficult for Guatemalans to say. First of all, the “ih” sound doesn't exist, so, the closest they can even get is “Seed-nee.” Which is fine. Much like in the US, the kid who loves in this house keeps saying “Seen-dee.” The kid, who is 10, is awesome. He actually is pretty good about figuring out what I'm trying to say and correcting my Spanish. He also likes to trick me a lot. Apparently they only have school in the morning, so this afternoon I asked him if he was done. And he said, 'yes.' Then I said, 'so, school is only in the mornings?' And he said, 'no, it continues in the afternoon.' Which is a lie. He just likes to confuse me. Of course, that interaction took place in Spanish, so it was even more confusing.

I have to write a gazillion more sentences today. I kind of hate writing the sentences because I hate making up stuff to say. Plus, some of the verbs are really weird. Like, one just means to scrub dishes, so there's not many ways to use that verb. Writing sentences is helpful, but a lot of time the sentences end up being incredibly simplistic because I can't think of anything else to say. And then it's less helpful, because it's forming the complicated sentences that is very hard. With complicated sentences, the words go in strange orders.

My accomplishment of the day is making friends with the dog that lives on the roof of the house. He's a big ole dog; not sure what kind. He barks loudly and is a bit scary at first, and they told me not to touch him for the first day. As of today, he likes me. Oh, hirs name is Roofo, since he lives on the roof. I feel pretty bad for Roofo, as he just hangs out on the roof all day and is very bored. I try to say hi to him when I walk by on the way to my room. (He can come down a lower part of the roof, which is even with the stairs I walk up to my room. Although he's on the roof, he's actually below me.) Guatemalans love dogs, and they love keeping them on the roof. Sometimes all the roof dogs in the neighborhood start up and it's pretty crazy.

aprendendo espanol

I have a lot of anxiety about learning spanish, so if I seem somewhat touchy about that subject sometimes, that's why. I'm scared that 6 weeks will pass and I still won't be able to understand a word anyone says. As it is, I can understand someone if they speak in simple words, slowly, directly at me. If they speak quickly, but still at me, I can understand more than half if I know the context. I tend to get most confused when people change topics. On the other hand, when two people are talking to each other, I can't understand a single thing.

Anyway, everyone keeps telling me that my Spanish is improving rapidly because I can string entire sentences together sometimes. And that's true, but (a) I can't understand as much as I can say and (b) my pronunciation, while improving, is bad enough that sometimes people can't understand me even when I get the words right. At the bar last night, three of the maestros had a good 15 minute laugh at the fact that I couldn't pronounce my maestra's name. Her name is Claudia, and as I now know, it sounds like cloud-e-uh. I kept saying clod-e-uh, which was far enough from cloud-e-uh that they didn't know who I was talking about. (In fact, one of the teachers had had this conversation with me earlier, and he brought it up at the bar to make fun of me some more. It's okay, though, since being made fun of makes things stick in your mind real good.)

My anxiety is mostly about being able to understand, even though everyone else seems to think that oral comprehension is so much easier than speaking. I just seem to struggle in particular with comprehension. I'm trying to get used to Vs that sound like Bs and LLs that sound like Js, because those two tend to trip me up a lot.

That said, the fact that I can't roll my Rs is also driving me batty. Even more so, because I'm almost positive I was able to do it 10 years ago when I was taking Spanish in college. Of course, this is a problem in Spanish, since the trilled R is the only difference between words like 'caro' (expensive) and 'carro' (car) or 'pero' (but) and 'perro' (dog). All the teachers say I should practice with a pencil between my teeth, which I've done, but it doesn't really seem to be helping. Last night, one of the teachers suggested that I play a drinking game wherein I try to say the word 'carro' and every time I can't say it, I take a drink. I pointed out that this would end up with me passed out on the floor, and he conceded that this was 'a risk.' Yup, these are the individuals responsible for my Spanish education!

yo necesito aprender bailar salsa

It seems that I am going to have to learn to salsa dance, as it is practically a requirement of spending time in Xela.

On Friday nights, the school hosts a little party for all the students, and particularly in recognition of those students whose last day it is. Last night that was actually just my two friends, who were only here for a week.

Anyway, we had to make hot dogs in groups (yeah, I really don't understand that either). After food, there was music and dancing. One of the teachers is also a salsa instructor, and he was dancing up a storm. At 11, when we must vacate the school, a group of students and teachers (including myself) headed out to a bar/dance club. Hanging out with the teachers is a lot of fun. For the most part, they're around my age, and many of them are university students. One was studying to be a psychologist, another is a semester away from having a degree in mechanical engineering.

At first, I only danced when they played American music, but the salsa dance instructor convinced me to dance to a latin american song. i warned him I was a terrible dancer, but he didn't believe me until after he danced with me for a song! Right after we danced, it was time to go, as bars can legally only stay open until 1, apparently. So we headed to the "after party," which was a dance club like thing about a block away. Apparently that just means they paid off the police to stay open later. This place was crazy. It used to be a movie theater, and now the space between the seats and the screen is a big cement dance floor. Meanwhile, they projected random (mostly American rap) music videos (sans sound) on the screen. Some people were just sitting in the seats drinking cerveza and watching people dance. I danced with two guys (both salsa instructors, but we didn't dance salsa). Then, Luis, who is the teacher who is almost a mechanical engineer and not a salsa instructor, tried to show me the basic salsa steps. He was actually pretty patient, so I sorta/kinda got the most incredibly basic steps down.

It was a lot of fun, but I think maybe I'll try taking some lessons. I'm scared to take lessons because it's so difficult for me to learn steps (coordination, bah!), but I think it might be better than having to sit out salsa dancing all the time.

Today I am feeling very proud of myself for successfully completing two transactions without much confusion. First, I got my hair cut! Yay. The salon, which had been closed yesterday, was open today. Apparently some things are the same everywhere -- the two guys in the salon were flamingly gay. Then, I bought Q200 more minutes for my cell phone, as calling America apparently zaps them pretty quickly (although not as quickly as you might imagine).

Now I am in the internet cafe and am about to do some homework, as I am hoping to go hiking with the canadians tomorrow.

bicicleta

My ass hurts like you wouldn't believe.

Next time a Guatemalan tells you that you're going to take a leisurely ride around town on a bicycle, do NOT believe him. The activity after school today was a bicycle tour. It was supposed to be easy, for beginners with no experience with bicycles. About 3 minutes in, I knew we were in trouble. We started off with zig-zagging through traffic on poorly paved roads. (Yes, Mom, I was wearing a helmet). I was freaking out about that—we went on sidewalks, and back on the road, and in between cars, etc. Then we got out of town and rode (in the rain, of course) up and down these muddy hills. Around the second hill, I remembered that I'm not yet adjusted to the high altitude of Xela. (Oops). I couldn't breathe, but then it was flat for a long while, and I was doing much better. That said, riding over these terribly bumpy dirt roads (or occasionally “paved” with stones) is very hard on the rear end. After about an hour and a half of this “easy” ride, I had to stop for a moment as I was out of breath. So the whole group stopped. At that point, one of the guides offered to take me back. I asked how much further it was, and they said it was about 5 kilometers, or 45 minutes. Except he also said 'mas dificil.' That did it—I headed back with one of my friends and one of the guides. (There were only 5 students on the tour, and I was the only girl. All the Canadians, which is like half the students, wussed out.) Anyway, we headed back, and I was pretty sure that everyone else was going to regret their decision to carry on, as most of them were pretty tired, too.

I got home, covered in mud and in a lot of pain. Took a shower and nap.

Sure enough, after I'd been home more than an hour (and it was like half an hour back one we turned back), my friend called me to say that I was very smart and he wished he hadn't continued on. He said they had just gotten back and it was incredibly hard—up and down these narrow muddy paths.

I think we actually rode past some nice scenery and vistas, but, honestly, I was so busy concentrating intently on the road so as not to fall that I barely saw the scenery. Although, I did notice all the vacas. Of course. I'll try to get photos from my friend who did take photos.

And I'm sort of reconsidering my desire to buy a bike for getting around Brooklyn.

invierno

So, as it turns out, it's winter here in Guatemala. Also known as the rainy season. I knew that before I came, but I didn't really understand. Before I left, I looked up the weather in guatemala, and it showed highs in the 70s and lows in the 50s. And then I looked at another site, which said that on average it reaches the 90s and the lows are in the 60s. The first one was probably about right, but the second one was definitely wrong,or maybe for Guatemala City. Anyway, I didn't really pack well. Basically, whenever you're in the shade or it's cloudy, you're cold, and whenever you're in the sun, it's pretty hot. Thus, you are effectively dressed wrong no matter what. I brought with me one jacket, one sweatshirt, and one sweater. This means I'm wearing either the jacket or the sweatshirt every day. Yo necessito comprar unos sueteres.

Of course, as you may have heard, this year the rainy season has been particularly bad. It's apparently been the rainiest season in about 70 years, and that means lots of landslides. The highway from, Antigua to Xela is mostly very nice; 2 lanes in each direction and nicely paved. Plus, the pueblos along the way all have a bridge over the highway, so you don't have to slow down in the pueblos. But, right now, the road is in terrible shape from all the landslides. They had done a good job of clearing it up enough that traffic could pass, though. In many places, only one side of the highway is passable, and the other side has piles of mud, often 10 or even 20 feet high. In one place, in the mountains, half the road was simply gone. Like, the earth underneath the road had collapsed, and the road went with it. It's really bad for the country, as it will take them very long to fix all of the damage.

15 septiembre

Today I have no class because it's the Guatemalan independence day. That's good, as it's finally given me a chance to catch up on writing about my travels. Plus, I need to do my homework. Since I have no class, my teacher thought it would be fun to tell me to write 2 sentences for every -ar verb we went over yesterday, which was probably around 50. Maybe even more.

My teacher is extremely amused by my troubles pronouncing several words, mostly those that either involve a lot of As or RRs (which I can't do). She likes to laugh at me a lot, which is fine with me.

Yesterday, the afternoon activity was a trip to a nearby pueblo where they make pretty much all of the skirts (faltas) for the indigenous Mayan people. We got to see the process, which is crazy. It takes months to prepare the skirt, starting from cleaning the cotton and ending with the weaving of the actual skirt. We watched a couple parts of the process, including a man who showed us his wooden loom, operated by pedals. The same guy also sells this liquor made from fruit, so we tried some of that. I bought a bottle for Q20, which is like $2.50. It was probably half a liter or so. I'm not sure if I'll want to drink it all--it's pretty damn sweet.

After that, I went out with two guys from the school. Last night was the night of all the huge independence parties. The whole park was jam-packed with hundreds and hundreds of people, and there were all these people marching through the streets. Some were bands, with horns and drums; others were more military-like. And girls with batons. And many other really random things. They kept parading, even after midnight.

We started the night at a restaurant called 'El Arabe,' which had about 3 vaguely Arabic-seeming dishes. We ordered a platter of meat, which is something we don't get a ton of in our houses (and one of the guys doesn't get at all, because the other student in his house is vegetarian). And several liters of beer.

Beer in guatemala is interesting. Basically all there is Gallo beer. It's one huge monopoly. Gallo itself is sort of like budweiser, although slightly better. Then there's Cabro, which is slightly darker, and Molta, which is the dark Gallo beer. That's pretty much your choices. Every now and then you'll find a place that has Heinekin or Corona, but I'd rather the Molta to those. A liter of one of those beers is around Q35, or slightly more than $4. It's about 3 beers-worth.

Anyway, a bit after 9, the band started playing, and the place got really crowded. The band was great. They must have been singing Guatemalan pop songs, because the whole restaurant was singing along with them. The restaurant was full of young-ish people (as a rule, people in Guatemala look WAY younger than their age), dressed in American styles. You had the American thug look, the American Jersey Shore look, and the American prep look. The girls mostly just wore very tight skinny jeans with either 6-inch heels or boots (it's the middle of winter) and blouses.

Since I thought (some of) the band was cute, my friend made me take a picture with them after they went on break. (I don't have this photo yet as, on advice of everyone, I did not take my camera or any credit cards or really anything but Q200 and my Guatemalan cell phone with me).

At one point, everyone in the restaurant got up and just started salsa dancing. Talk about amazing dancers. I was mesmerized by the guys' hips.

After that, we watched some of the parade. The marching bands are 100% gender segregated. The girls only play these things that look sort of like xylophones standing upright. The trumpet players were pretty bad (or maybe tired), but the drummers were awesome (particularly the bass drum players, who did this cool spinny thing with their mallets, exactly in sync).

Then it was another bar and lots of Spanglish. One of the guys is a masterspanglish speaker, at least after a few cervezas. I can't remember his best sentence, but i personally enjoyed 'I can't believe you're va-ing there!' They both understand a lot, and speak quite a bit. They claimed my Spanish was better after even one day. Probably mostly from having slightly more confidence and relaxing.

We ended the night by buying cervezas from a guy with a portable cooler in the middle of the parque centro. At that point, we realized we had also run out of money, which was probably a good thing.

Oh, and fireworks. There were lots and lots of fireworks.

Anyway, I got to sleep in today. And have now been in this internet cafe for hours, trying to set up this blog and upload photos. The latter has been less successful, but I'll keep you updated.

And I still have like 100 sentences left to write.

13 septiembre

13 septiembre

Okay, end of first day of classes and meeting people. Am a bit disappointed that I am the only one traveling alone this week. Or at least, beginning this week. I did meet two guys traveling together who speak better Spanish than me. We hung out tonight.

My "familia" is very nice, but somewhat intimidating. There are six of them. Grandmother and grandfather. Two daughters. And one grand child. The other daughter is pregnant, although grandmother (Irma) explained that there is no espozo (husband). My first night she asked me if I was catolica. I probably should have lied and said yes,but instead I said no and then had to answer that I had no religion. I tried to save myself by explaining that mi madre y mis abuelos son catolicas, but in retrospect that probably just made things worse. As two of my friends from school joked, I speak spanish so poorly that I probably also told them that god is the devil or something.

Oh well, they're nice to me anyway.

The house is strange. Like nothing I've ever seen before. It's half outside, As in, the hallway is outside, and then you use individual entrances to go inside different rooms. So, I must go "outside" to go to the bathroom.

Indeed, the bathroom is my biggest complaint. The floors of both bathrooms are cement, and quite cold. So far I have learned that washing my hair every day is a bad thing. You switch on a switch to get hot water. There are only two choices of temperature: freezing and scalding. So you often end up turning it on and off when it gets too hot. I'm pretty sure this is going to end with me electrocuting myself. In addition, and not surprisingly, the water pressure is terrible, and it is so hard to wash my long hair. I think I'm going to try to get it cut shorter.

School starts at 8 am every day, which is incredibly early. I keep trying to remind myself that it's 10 my time, so it's okay.

My teacher is interesting. Very pretty and very nice, if somewhat frustrated by me. She got married at 16, and now has a 14 yr old, so she's probably 30 or 31, but she looks much younger. She was asking me about my brothers, and whether they were married, and exclaimed that they got married so young! I said, you got married at 16! she said, 'I was pregnant.' So that pretty much ended that!

Day 1

Day 1 in guatamela.

So far so good. Although there's already been some moments of panic.

When I got to san salvador, I was confused because the captain said it was 1:15 and my ipod said 3:15. I had thought Guatemala (and San Salvador) was in Central time. Plus, we were a half hour late, and I wasn't sure if I was going to have time to go through immigration before my flight to guatemala left.

I shouldn't have worried. El salvador appears to be an absolutely beautiful country -- at least from the air. There was nothing anywhere near the airport. Just green and more green. And then suddenly an airport with one runway. We landed and there's a big sign on top of the airport that says EL SALVADOR, with the letters decorated like their flag.

I was all ready to head to immigration or whatnot (and was surprised they never gave me an immigration form on the plane), but I literally just got off at gate 7 and walked over to gate 14, as if I were connecting domestically. Go figure.

Entertainingly, gate 16 was a flight to new york. Accordingly, it had its own security screening checkpoint to comply with TSA regulations. They didn't actually have x-ray machines or anything; they just went through everyone's bags and apparently (judging from the full trash cans) threw everyone's liquids away.

I waited at the gate for awhile, where I saw not a single other english-speaking person, and we finally boarded. And took off from the same runway that I had previously landed on an hour earlier.

In guatemala I had to go through immigration and customs, but there was literally no line, so that wasn't hard. I did start to freak out though when almost everyone's bags had come out on the thingy and mine hadn't. I hadn't wanted to check my bag, but they said I had to. I think it was probably okay to carry on in most planes, but whatever. Anyway, I was really nervous about TACA airlines losing my bag, and thus the panic when 75% of my flight had collected their bags and left. And we're talking about a lot of bags. Apparently these people travel with no less than 2 MASSIVE suitcases.

As a side note, I shouldn't have worried about flying TACA. It was way nicer than most american airlines. Both flights were on what appeared to be brand new Embraer E190s, complete with individual on-demand entertainment systems and a USB port (?). And they even served a meal. Although it was not exactly very good.

Anyway, like the hotel had promised, there was someone waiting for me outside the airport exit with a sign with my name. I told him 'hola!' and he took me to a van. He asked if I spoke spanish, and I said 'un poquito.' He said he spoke un poquito of english. I think his english was much better than my spanish. I told him I was from new york and was comiing to learn spanish. When he found out I was stayiing in antigua only for one day, he asked why, and I tried to explain the best I could that I didn't think i'd be able to get a bus to xela the same day I flew in, and I was worried about my safety in guatemala city. I used the word 'seguridad', which hopefully is sorta what I meant.

The hotel is gorgeous. Antigua is kind of odd. Its all these narrow streets with tall stone walls. But once you get inside those walls, it's all gorgeous gardens and benches, etc. the internal part of the hotel is like that.

I managed to ask the guy at the front desk where an ATM was and how to catch a bus to xela. He gave me a map, and I set off for the ATM. I got completely lost at one point and was like omg, i've already failed at living in this country. I couldn't figure out where I was because the streets are barely labeled, when they are they each have mutliple names, and I got "2a. Calle" confused with "2 Avenida." Eventually I figured out what i'd done wrong and made it to the central park (very cute) and the busy part of the city. Which included ATMs. And a place that sold SIM cards. So I bought a "Movistar" sim card.

Then I saw a shop advertising "tourist shuttles." It was 25 to xela, and the guy convinced me I didnt want to try to change buses to take chicken bus to xela. He's probably right. Plus, I am very short on small change, and you can't use a 100Q note for a chicken bus.

Then I had dinner by myself and even managed to walk all the way back to my hotel with no problems despite losing my map.