Gradumacacion - en español

This post is in Spanish. For the English translation post, go here.

Anoche fue mi ultimo viernes in Xela y Guatemala, y por la tradicion in la escuela, me gradujé que solo significa nosotros damos un pequeño discurso u otra presentacíon (en español, por supuesto). Para mi graduacíon, hablé y canté una des mis favoritas canciones - Una Bendicíon de Irlanda. Aqui es me discurso para graduacíon:

Buenas noches a todos y todas. Soy Chelsea, como el equipo de futbol de inglaterra si eres de Guatemala u otra nacionalidad, y como la hija del presidente Clinton si eres de los Estados Unidos.

Si ustedes no me conocen, es porque estudié por la tarde esta semana y la pasada, pero he estado aqui por once semanas, casi tres meses en total, entoces yo soy anciana.

Me siento como, despues once semanas, debí hacer algo grande para mi graduacion, pero no sabia que. Mi novio me dijo, "Habla sobre kumquats." "kumquats?" le pregunté. "Si, kumquats. Es una palabra que suena sucio, pero no es." "Esta palabra solo suena sucio en ingles," yo le dije, "en español, kumquat no se parece otras palabras. Es solo kumquat." Pues, mi novio no estaba ayudando y no voy a hablar sobre kumquats.

En lugar de, solo queria compartir algunas consejos que he aprendido mientras he estado aqui. Porque en once semanas, aprendí mucho.

Primero - sí es su segunda o tercera semana, y todavia no ha estado enferma, pida un maestro o una maestra quien tiene su escritorio cerca de los baños. Porque es probable que vaya a necesitarlos.

Segundo - use el baño quince minutos, mas o menos, antes de la pausa. Porque entonces puede llegar a la cocina mas rapido y tiene primera eleccion del pan y bebidas, y eso es muy importante.

Tercero - Si tu quieres aprender las palabras mas coloradas, juega futillo con Carlos.

Cuarto - Debes aprender la diferencia entre la pronunciacion de "miedo" y "mierda" porque los dos significan cosas diferentes.

Quinto - Las mas donas y otras cosas horneadas estan en Bake Shop. Tu no sabias, pero la razon del porque viniste a Xela es la mejor dona de tu vida, y tienes que ir a Bake Shop.

Y por fin, Sexto - Si no eres un estudiante de la universidad en los Estados Uniods, y si no eres de otro pais (en otras palabras si tu higado no esta acondiciado) No trates de beber la misma cuantidad de bebidas que los jovenes. Si tu lo haces, vas a tener una goma, o posiblemente te despertarias todavia borracho o borracha. En un jueves. Eso no es divertido, yo lo prometo. Aunque tu maestra vaya a ser muy amiable y vaya a cuidarte.

Quiero expresar mi agradecimiento a la escuela y a mis maestras y maestros - por ahora he tenido casi la mitad de la escuela para mis maestros - Graçias a Teresa, Shes, Saul - quien me enseñó la diferencia entre la pronunciacion de "miedo" y "mierda", Doris, Rony en la escuela de la montana - otra pieza de consejo, si tu puedes, ve a la escuela de la montana, es una experiencia totalemente diferente y es buena. Graçias a Rosario y Marleny - Marleny me cuidó cuando tuvé aquella goma, y Graçias a Vilma, Luis, y Ailsa. Por ustedes, puedo hablar español. Hablo despacio, pero puedo hablar. Cuando llegué de primero, esencialmente no sabia nada. No podia hablar español y no sabia nada sobre Guatemala, la gente, la historia, ó la cultura. Ahora yo sé casi diez u once tiempos y modos. Cuando hablo, los mesclo frecuentemente, pero yo los sé. Tambien ustedes me han enseñado mucho sobre la historia de Guatemala y la cultura. La gente aqui es muy amigable, y muy generosa. Ustedes tienen corazones muy grandes y, a pesar de todo, tienen esperanza por su pais y su futuro. Todavia ustedes estan trabajando para un mañana mejor, y los admiro mucho por eso.

Por ultimo, quiero cantar una cancion la aprendí hace muchos años cuando era una consejera en un campamento del verano. Necesito cantarla en ingles porque, por supuesto, los palabras en español no sigue la musica. Esta cancion es una bendicion de amistad y originalmente, creo, es de Irlanda. En el campamento siempre la cantabamos para la ultima hoguera para decir "adios" al verano. La traduccion en español es:

Podría el camino subir contigo

Podría el viento siempre estar detras de ti

Podría el sol brillar sobre ti

Podría la lluvia caer suave en tus campos

Y hasta encontrarnos otra vez

Podría la tierra sostenerte

En sus huecos y sus terrenos

Gradumacation - in english

Este post es en ingles. Para la traduccion en español, vaya aqui.

Last night was my last friday in Xela and Guatemala, and per school's tradition I graduated, which simply means we give a little speech or other presentation (in spanish of course). For my graduation I spoke and sang one of my favorite songs - An Irish Blessing. Here is my speech for graduation:

Good evening to everyone. I'm Chelsea, like the football team from England if you're from Guatemala or another nationality, and like the daughter of president Clinton if you're from the United States. If you don't know me, it's because I studied in the afternoon this week and last, but I've been here for eleven weeks - almost three months in total. Thus I am ancient.

I felt like, after eleven weeks, I should do something big for my graduation, but I didn't know what. My boyfriend told me, "Talk about kumquats." "kumquats?" I asked him. "Yeah, kumquats. It's a word that sounds dirty, but isn't." "This word only sounds dirty in English, " I told him, "In Spanish, kumquat doesn't resemble other words. It's just kumquat." So, my boyfriend wasn't being helpful and I'm not going to talk about kumquats.

Instead, I want to share some bits of advice that I have learned while I've been here. Because in eleven weeks, I learned a lot.

First - if it is your second or third week, and you still have not been sick, ask for a teacher who has a desk close to the bathrooms. Because you're probably going to need them.

Second - Use the bathroom about fifteen minutes before the break. Because then you can get to the kitchen much faster and have first choice of the bread and drinks, and this is very important.

Third - If you want to learn the most colorful words, play foosball with Carlos. (the director of the school)

Fourth - You should learn the difference in the pronunciation between "miedo" (fear) and "mierda" (shit) because they mean different things.

Fifth - the best donuts and other baked goods are in Bake Shop. You didn't know it, but the reason you came to Xela is for the best donut of your life, and you have to go to Bake Shop.

And finally, sixth - if you're not a college student in the US, and you're not from another country (in other words your liver is not in condition) Do not try to drink the same amount of drinks as the young folks. If you do, you will have a hangover, or possibly wake up still drunk. On a Thursday. This is not fun, I promise. Even though your teacher will be very nice and take good care of you.

I want to express my gratefullness to the school and to my teachers - by now I've had almost half of the school for my teachers - Thank you to Teresa, Shes, Saul - who taught me the difference in pronunciation between "miedo" and "mierda" - Doris, Rony in the Mountain School - another piece of advice, if you can, go to the mountain school. It's a totally different experience and it's good. Thank you to Rosario and Marleny - Marleny took care of me when I had that hangover - and thank you to Vilma, Luis, and Ailsa (Ay-ill-sa). Because of you, I can speak Spanish. I speak slowly, but I can speak. When I first came, essentially I didn't know anything. I couldn't speak Spanish and I didn't know anything about Guatemala, the people, the history, or the culture. Now I know almost 10 or 11 tenses and moods. When I speak, I mix them often, but I know them. You have also taught me a lot about the history of Guatemala and the culture. The people here are very friendly, and very generous. You have very big hearts and, in spite of everything, have hope for your country and your future. You are still working for a better tomorrow, and I admire you greatly for this.

Lastly, I want to sing a song that I learned many years ago when I was a counselor at a summer camp. I need to sing it in English because, of course, the words in Spanish don't follow the music. This song is a blessing of friendship and originally, I think, is from Ireland. At summer camp we always sang it at the last campfire in order to say "goodbye" to the summer. The translation in Spanish is:

Podría el camino subir contigo

Podría el viento siempre estar detras de ti

Podría el sol brillar sobre ti

Podría la lluvia caer suave en tus campos

Y hasta encontrarnos otra vez

Podría la tierra sostenerte

En sus huecos y sus terrenos

And the words in English are:

May the road rise with you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine upon you
May the rains fall softly on your fields
And until we meet again,
May the Earth hold you
In her hollows and her lands

Vamos a la playa! (let's go to the beach)

Alright, almost caught up on blog posts!

This is just a quick one about the beach trip school organized three weekends ago. We went to Tilapita, which is on the Pacific coast about 3 or 4 hours from Xela. It was a long day but a fun one. The climate on the coast is much closer to what people think of when they hear the term "equatorial" - hot and humid. Really hot. We got off the bus and were immediately sweating buckets. The town we were in was Tilapa, and we had to take a plancha (little skiff boat) across the mangrove estuary to the actual beach, which is called Tilapita. 

The palm-thatched roofs of the comedors on Tilapita - where we were headed

 We took a nice little detour into the mangroves a ways, there's a water path that follows along the coastline north towards Mexico - our guides told us you could follow it for hours and still not come out the other side.

We had over 30 students on this trip, so we took two boats. You can see how full they were

Mangrove roots. Always cool to look at. They help filter the water that passes through the estuary, provide protection to the shoreline from erosion during storms, and provide a nursery environment for many estuarine and marine animals when they're young. They also house crocodiles.

A wide bend in the mangrove estuary.

I've been in mangrove swamps before, but these were the first I'd hung out in where we were warned to keep an eye out for crocodiles, so that was a new experience. We didn't see any, which isn't surprising, and on the whole I probably shouldn't have been as disappointed as I was. We did see lots of pelicans and other birds. There are many little fishing communities in and around the mangroves and the planchas and boats are one of the main forms of transportation, kind of like buses in the rest of the country.

Local kid fishing from his plancha

Another shot of one of our planchas out on the water

Once we wrapped up our mini mangrove tour, we headed for the beach. There were a bunch of comedors (restaurant/tienda shops) with large covered areas of tables and hammocks. We set up base in one of these that also had two swimming pools, which was kind of an interesting thing to have at a beach, although perfect for my taste. I didn't have to go far from my shade, water, food, or beer. I alternated taking dips in the pool with a bottle of beer and, later, fresh coconut juice. Y'know, straight from the coconut. 

Mmmm coconut juice!

The rip-tides and undercurrents at this point along the Pacific coast are not to be trifled with. We were warned several times about the dangerous strength of the current and admonished to use the buddy system, stay within reach of the lifeguards, and not go in past our knees. Folks reported that the water was warm and that they weren't kidding about the current - it was brutal. Later we found out that the locals considered it a really mild current day, and we all decided we didn't want to experience a bad current day.

The food was worth the entire trip. Fresh fried shrimp, fried fish, and seafood soup (complete with whole fish - you can fight over who gets to eat the eyeballs), were all on the menu. I also snagged a bite of someone's ceviche, which was easily the best I've ever had. Delicious!

Ode para mi zapatos

So I may be headed home in barely a week, but part of me will be staying here a bit longer. I'm donating my hiking boots to one of the gals I work with at Primeros Pasos. These sturdy feet protectors have been with me for six years now, and they've finally come to the end of their waterproof life. Already well past their recommended retiring date, they've developed a couple of legit holes on this trip and I'd already planned on replacing them when I got back. I figured passing them on to someone who can still get some use out of them was the right thing to do.

These boots saw me through two seasons of outdoor school and one season of summer camp. They still bear the marks of the first coats of paint on the Tween Creeks cabin ceilings, as well as paint from my first apartment in Boston. We've hiked parts of the Appalachian trail together, kicked up dust in Memphis, splashed through puddles in Niagara, and walked in the shade of redwoods. They were the butt of many a joke for their first three months of existence as I went to the store to get shoes...and came back with a date. Of recent note, they've been doubling as soccer shoes, which is also a bit of a joke, although they do the job as best they can.

I don't want to fathom how many layers of donkey poo, pond muck, and goose poop have graced their soles, and I can barely imagine how many miles of earth they have covered. I have been glad to count them in my shoe selection. They haven't always made me the most fashionable, but they have always made me the most comfortable and usually very well prepared for adventures. I am sad to see them go, but I hope they enjoy their new life walking the streets of Xela and the dirt roads of El Valle. If hiking boots ever deserved a retirement community certainly a land of volcanoes and mountains begging to be climbed would be it.

Hitchhiking gets two thumbs up!

Cross another form of transportation off my list: hitchhiking.

Ok, so I didn't hitchhike in the true sense of me actively flagging down a random ride. But this morning while waiting for the bus at Primeros Pasos to head back to Xela, a woman in a Ford Explorer with a baby sleeping in the backseat pulled up and asked where I was going and if I wanted a ride. She was going my way and it was faster, easier, and cheaper than the bus, so I said yes.

Her name is Ingrid and she lives essentially next door to the clinic and says she and the other neighbors often give us clinic folks a lift if they pass by and are going into the city. We made small talk as she drove, what I'm doing in Xela, how long I've been here, what I do at the clinic. When I told her where I lived in the states she said she had a cousin living in Boston that she had visited before. She mentioned the Freedom Trail, Harvard, and MIT. It was kinda cool to chat about home for a minute with someone who had been there. She herself had lived in Miami for six months to take ESL classes and also has family in Arizona, New Jersey, New York and some other states.

Our ride was only 15 minutes or so - and in a funny coincidence it turned out her husband works right near school in my part of the city, although she wasn't headed there this afternoon. She dropped me off at the same spot the bus would have and I walked the rest of my way home. All in all a very pleasant experience from a very friendly neighbor. My first hitchhiking experience was a definite success!

home away from home - mi cielo

I still feel like I am severely behind in my blog entries and my time in Guatemala is coming to a close - next week is my last week of classes and then I'm home the week after that!

I haven't even updated about my new new family who I moved in with after I got back from the Mountain School. I'll have lived with them for six weeks next week, which is longer than any of the other families I've stayed with here. There an older couple, Blanca and Alejandro, and are hands down my favorite family I've stayed with through the school.

The house is modest but bright and clean, and my bedroom is huge but well furnished, so it doesn't feel that way. I think they did something akin to a renovation to turn the back part of the house into accommodations for boarders. My bedroom has both a full and twin bed for families and groups, and they have a second bedroom as well - in my time here we've had two other students stay with us for a week. The bathroom is quite possibly my most favorite bathroom I've come across (although my favorite shower is reserved for the Antigua post). It's just nicely done in gray tile and is very clean, with ample shelf space for my stuff. I also don't have to share it (unless there's another student) and I really kind of like that. It means I get to leave my stuff in the bathroom, and that feels more like home.

Blanca and Alejandro are extremely laid back and really understand the personality of travelers and the young crowd they mostly see come through the school (although our two other students were both older women closer to my parent's generation than mine). They seem more liberal in their politics and religion than the average Guatemalans I've met. I like listening to their stories of other students who have come through. Blanca explained that, for the most part, they just let the students set their own schedule and do what they want to do. "Sometimes, though, students need some mothering." She's gone and stayed in the hospital before with a student who got really sick, shooed off a would-be suitor of a young woman who got in over her head with her new-found freedom, and let folks cry on her shoulder after breakups or bad news from home.

I got some Blanca mothering when I made the mistake one Wednesday night of trying to keep up with the drinking habits of some of the twenty year olds and woke up very rough the next morning (I actually think I might have still been drunk). Blanca took one look at me and just about burst out laughing because I looked so awful. But she was sweet and sympathetic - encouraging me to go back to bed and let her call school to tell them I wouldn't be in (I dragged myself to school anyway where my teacher admonished me to take a nap, and eat some bread and coffee, since I clearly couldn't study). I got the full Guatemalan hang-over treatment for lunch which is egg soup - sort of like chicken noodle but with a few eggs poached in it. Alejandro kept trying to convince me that all I needed was a strong shot of tequila or just a glass of beer (evidently the hair of the dog philosophy is the underpinning of hang-over treatments here). My stomach insisted that I decline.

Aside from providing great hang-over support, they're just really nice folks. Blanca's daughter lives about a block away and has two daughters of her own, Melany who is 9 and Emily who's 4 and they're over here sometimes before or after school. Alejandro's granddaughter stays with us most days of the week, she's in her 20's and attends university, studying dentistry. Blanca and Alejandro got together later in life, after Blanca and her ex-husband separated and Alejandro's wife passed away. Blanca always calls Alejandro "corazon" (heart = my love) or "cielo" (heaven), which is really sweet.

Blanca is also a fabulous cook. She spent 3 years in the states (up near Boston, coincidentally) and has a flare for "adventurous cooking" as she calls it. It's just that her palate has been influenced by another culture, but, for me, it's a perfect blend of home and here. The pace of life is also just more relaxed in this house compared to the other two I've stayed in. My first family always served breakfast at 7:30am, no matter the day. Blanca is happy to have a lie-in herself on the weekends, and I'm usually out late on a Friday anyway, so we just do breakfast whenever everyone gets up. It works out great :)

I also enjoy that we eat all of our meals family-style, and chat over them. It just feels very homey. Two weekends ago, Blanca invited me to the baptism and 1st birthday party of her daughter's nephew. I had helped make some of the party favors - these really cute little babies out of styrofoam and craft foam. Blanca is a self-taught painter and loves arts and crafts projects. She teaches private art classes and works on her own projects in her free time. She's the go-to family member for crafty-projects. The day of the baptism/party was quite fun. We were in charge of Blanca's granddaughters for the morning since they're too young to be expected to sit through a full Mass and Baptism. We showed up to the church just at the end of Mass (fun fact, the Lord's Prayer has the same cadence and rhythm in Spanish as it does in English). The Baptisms took place right afterward - they actually did about 8 kids in the same ceremony - and after that we headed over to an event hall in Zone 3 for the party. We sat with Blanca's aunt and cousins who kept complimenting me the whole time. "I like your scarf!" "Your eyes are such a gorgeous color!" "Your skin is so smooth and beautiful!" with that kind of praise, who wouldn't have a great time? It was just like every other large family party you've been to. Emily, Blanca's youngest granddaughter, fell asleep in one of her aunt's laps and couldn't be roused for anything - not even the two pinatas towards the end.

Next week I'm taking them out to dinner for Pizza as a thank-you for hosting me, since it's my last week. I am really going to miss them when I go.

Primeros Pasos (First Steps)

I'm trying to keep up on documenting my adventures, but I've been so busy recently that I literally just haven't had time to sit down and write them up. Why am I so busy? Well, in addition to five hours of spanish each day and two online summer classes for nursing school, I'm also volunteering 2-3 days per week at a local non-profit clinic, Primeros Pasos (First Steps)

The clinic - view from the road

We're out in the country - this is the (ridiculously well paved) road that goes by the clinic where we wait for the bus at the end of the morning. As in the rest of Guatemala, if you want the bus to stop, just wave it down.

Countryside - the view across the road from the clinic

Primeros Pasos is located just outside of Xela in what's known as El Valle (The Valley). El Valle is made up of many rural communities located in the valley between the city and the mountains. It is a gorgeous place, but the people here are very poor, and resources for making a living are less than what's available in the city. The clinic is located in the community known as Tierra Colorada Baja, which is actually only 20 minutes or so by bus from the outskirts of the city. However, most of the communities they serve extend farther into the valley, 45min to an hour by bus (it's not that they're so far away, it's that the roads are horrendous and you can't go much faster than 20mph).

The church in the village of Xecaracoj (shey-ka-rah-coh) decorated with bright reflective colors for the town's Feria Patronal - the celebration for the town's name or patron saint day. Xecaracoj is a K'iche mayan name as most people out here are indigenous Mayan and speak K'iche as their first language, and Spanish as their second.

Another view of the Xecaracoj church from across the cornfields

A side-street in Xecaracoj, a short walk from the center of town.

The clinic offers health and dental services for Q40 (~$5) per person per visit. Included in this fee are any medications that might be prescribed - if they're in stock in the pharmacy. The goal of the clinic is to provide health services and health education to the families in these communities at an affordable cost. For folks in these areas, work is often hard to come by and many people live on $2 a day or less. One family we interviewed that is in our nutrition program have 9 people across 3 generations living in one 3.5-room home and around Q1075 (~$145) per month for living expenses. That works out to approximately $15/person per month, or close to 50 cents per day.

I am working with the nutrition program which has identified 26 children under the age of five in the local communities who are severely malnourished and has enrolled them and their families in a comprehensive nutrition program. The families recieve monthly food supplementation bolsas (bags) with such nutrition substitutes as Protemas (a soy protein substitute - looks kind of like ground turkey), Incaparina (a drink additive that can be mixed with milk or water and provides extra protein, vitamins, and other nutrients), and vitamins. We hold bi-weekly charlas (sort of like conferences) for the mothers of the children in the programs and any other women in the communities who want to come. The charlas cover topics from sanitation techniques, to basic health info, to cooking classes where families can learn how to use the new food supplements they recieve. This weeks charla was about nutrition during pregnancy and post-partum, for example, and we're currently planning a charla about family planning. Each month the children have a weight-and-height measurement and every three months a full check-up to chart their progress and diagnose any other clinical conditions that may be affecting their health - like intestinal parasites, which are extremely common in these communities.

View of Santa Maria, the volcano that overlooks all of Xela, from el valle

The neighboring yard to one of the families we visited in Xecaracoj. I liked the colors of the clothes on the line.

While people are mostly concentrated close to the town centers of the ten districts in el valle, the whole area is dotted with houses and fields (mostly corn).

Another one of our families' houses in Xecaracoj. The little shack you see in the middle of all the clotheslines is the sole toilet that is shared between 4 families in the apartment building on the left.

I have been helping out with charting height and weight data, taking role at charlas, and acting as camera person for our home visits and interviews. Every month the coordinators visit 2-3 families in the program to interview them about their experience with the nutrition program, and to assess their living conditions and any other needs the families might have. A lot of families struggle to send their kids to school because of the expenses, for example, and others would benefit from a potable water source or new stove for cooking. The vast majority (all but three, I think) of our families are led by single-mothers, although living arrangements are often with the woman's parents. Today we interviewed a mother of three boys, ages 10, 5, and 3 who all live in one bedroom of her parent's small house, along with a small flock of chickens. Each family we've talked to have all said how helpful the nutrition program has been the past few months for them. The women talk about what they've learned from the charlas and many are starting to see improvements in their childrens' growth. It's been really rewarding to travel to some of the different communities this week and see just how folks out here live; it really highlights the need for this program in these communities.

This is one of the mothers in our nutrition program. She works as a seamstress making traje tipica (traditional clothing), and other textiles by hand. Here she is embroidering a woman's skirt. She lives in a one room apartment with her two children. They share the toilet pictured above with the three other families in the apartment complex.

My attempt at a still life. This is the kitchen table in another one of our families' houses. I loved the shapes and colors.

One of the cutest puppies I've seen in Guatemala (and there are a lot of stray dogs and puppies running around). This little guy was tied up outside of a house next to one of the guarderias (day cares) our nutrition program works with in Llano del Pinal, another village in the valley.

Butterfly sighting! Gorgeous swallowtail who was puddling outside another one of the guarderias in Xecaracoj.

 As a volunteer for Primeros Pasos, one thing I am asked to do is help out with fundraising efforts to keep the clinic open and their programs operational. My goal is to raise at least $250 for the clinic, because a little bit goes a long way. If you'd like to donate and contribute to these efforts you can do so here on the Primeros Pasos website. They accept both google and paypal payments. Even if all you can manage is $5 or $10, it's still a big help down here (for example, $5 is the equivalent cost of a full medical checkup and medication for one client at the clinic. The visits are supplemented with donations and grants, but you can think of it as helping to cover one medical visit). If you need alternative motivation, do it as a belated birthday present to me :) and know that your support is very, very, very much appreciated!

Antigua

The weekend after Lago Atitlan I went to check out Antigua with Laurel and Troy. Antigua is only about an hour by bus from Guatemala City, so it's a popular destination for catching a shuttle to and from the airport (Troy's flight home was that Sunday and Laurel had a friend coming in on the Monday). Renown as one of the most gorgeous cities in Guatemala, Antigua served as the first regional capital during Spanish rule of Central America and is famous for its architecture and street design (it was one of the first cities in the Americas to be set out on a grid system). It is an incredibly popular tourist destination, one of the top in the country, and has a very robust ex-pat community. Although Antigua is also known for its Spanish language schools, it's a city you can easily get by in without any Spanish. I thought I had gotten more photos than I apparently did, probably because I neglected to bring my camera on our first day wandering around the city and the market. Laurel and I did a second pass of some of the highlights on Sunday, so I'll put those photos up now. I'm headed back in a week or so to catch my own shuttle to the airport, along with some friends who will be new to the city, so I should have the chance to see the sights again.

This is the Antigua Arch - it's an iconic feature of the city

The trip to Antigua was my first trip doing a bus-change as there are no direct chicken buses from Xela. We took a microbus headed for Guate, which is what everyone terms Guatemala City - the bus ayudantes call out "Guate! Guate! Guate!" through the door as they drive through towns to fill the bus, the same way they call out "Xela! Xela! Xela!" going the other direction. I may or may not have purchased a tshirt with that slogan in a tourist trap in Antigua. Anyway! To get to Antigua from Xela, we took a microbus (just smaller than a chicken bus - think 15 passenger eurovan) headed for Guate to Chimaltenango, and then had to switch to a bus from there to Antigua. It's only 30 minutes or so from Chimaltenango to Antigua, which was a good thing because the roads between Xela and Guate and very twisty and always make me nauseous.

As we waited for the bus in Chimal, Laurel and Troy bought some fresh fruit from one of the street vendors. This was Laurel's third trip to Guatemala, and studying at PLQ. Her first trip was when she was 13 and this visit was partly in celebration of her just graduating high school. She's practically a mini-celebrity at school (all the returners are), and is a savvy traveler mature beyond her 18 years. So, although I figured if anyone knew when to eat street food, it would be Laurel, I was still too gun-shy when it came to street fruit. Her next purchase, however, was from the helado (ice cream) vendor next to the fruit stand, and I could not resist a bite of chocolate dipped vanilla. Fortunately, I experienced no ill effects of that decision.

We got into Antigua right around lunch time. All told it was about 3.5-4hours from Xela. Troy and I had called ahead and made reservations at Hotel La Casa de Don Ismael - and it took us several phone calls to find someplace with an open room. It also took us a few circles of the block to find it - it's tucked down a dead end side street. It was a lovely place with the kitchen situated right in the middle of the garden patio, right in front of our door. They don't have too many rooms, so it feels quite cozy, and the roof deck has a great view of the surrounding mountains. The best part, though, was the shower.

Despite it being the rainy season and there being a pretty consistent afternoon shower every day, all of Guatemala experiences a water shortage, all of the time. No one takes daily showers. I'm down to 3 a week, max. This is to explain that Laurel and I didn't discover the shower until Sunday night. Why Troy didn't rave about it on Saturday I will never know, but Sunday after Laurel and I got back from wandering around town in the rain and the cold and getting splashed by tuk-tuk drivers, all we wanted was 5 minutes of hot water to revive us.

Side note about Guatemalan showers to further appreciate this: there are 3 types of showers in Guatemala- unheated, gas heated, and electric heated. Gas heated showers have a small water tank that is heated with gas. You get a 2-3 minute burst of super hot water when you first turn it on and then 10 more minutes of diminishing heat until it runs cool. Electric heated showers have an electric heating element at the point of the shower head. Cold water runs into this small chamber where it's heated by the heating element, and then passes through the shower head. The nice thing about the electric showers is it's possible to get hot water for your whole shower since it's essentially heated on demand. They are two downsides though. First, to achieve hot water for a duration longer than 30 seconds you have to make sure the water runs through the system at just the right speed (read: slowly) so there is no such thing as a hot shower with water pressure. Downside number two is that the system is set up in such a way that you sometimes get a little shock from the water handle when you go to adjust or turn it off. It's akin to the jolt you get licking a 9V battery or shaking hands with a hand buzzer - it doesn't hurt, it's just, well, shocking.

OK, so now you know the state of showers in Guatemala. Now you will understand why, when Laurel returned after nearly 20 minutes in said shower and told me I was going to love it, my interest was immediately piqued. The shower at Hotel la Casa de Don Ismael is both hot - steaming hot - and has water pressure (by Guatemalan standards). It was glorious, and I totally indulged for a 20 minute shower myself. Best. Shower. I've. Had. In. Months.

Other fun shower stories: the morning of my 29th birthday will always be remembered by me as the morning I experienced an earthquake in the shower. Luckily it wasn't too strong (by my standards apparently - my host mom and all of my teachers told me it was a decent sized shake). My philosophy is, if I don't have to go stand in a doorway, it's not that bad. And I was rather glad I didn't have to go stand in a doorway naked and dripping wet that particular morning.

Anyhow! Before we discovered the amazing shower we spent a good deal of time walking around Antigua, which does live up to its reputation as one of the most gorgeous cities in Guatemala. After we got to our hotel and plopped our bags down we took off for the market, which we had walked by on our way from the bus terminal. It was huge, and almost as confusing as the Minerva market in Xela, just with a better grid-like layout. Markets in Guatemala are just fun places to go. There are stalls selling literally everything you could possibly think of. Different sections usually for things like food, textiles, clothes, and home goods. The food sections are always the busiest because they have the highest turn-over and it's generally loud and bustling. It's also possible to find corners of markets that are quiet with souvenirs or textiles or other low-demand items. Troy found a Guatemalan flag, Laurel got a little bag from one of the textile stalls, and I found some cool wood-carved puzzles with little hidden drawers in different designs. I fell in love with the term for them as much as the designs: rompe cabeza, literally "head breaker" although I immediately perceived the translation in the context of the puzzles: "brain teaser".

After the market we wandered up towards Parque Central and the famous Antigua arch. The arch is part of an old convent that is now a hotel - it's one of the more expensive hotels in the city, although I believe they do have rooms in the arch. We checked out a few of the churches too, also well known for their architecture. La Merced was by far my favorite. It looks like a yellow cake that someone took a piping bag to and applied intricate icing designs.

the front of La Merced and the intricate detail work.

Close up of one of the statues next to the door

View of Mt. Augua from the same street (other direction) of the arch

As we wandered, we shopped. Being the tourist center of Guatemala, there are lots of stores and restaurants. Everything is about twice the price as it is in Xela, making Antigua the most expensive place I've visited in Guatemala. The food was good though! For dinner on Saturday we found our way to a steak house that also served pasta and a really yummy flan. Troy declared it the perfect dinner to end his trip on. On Sunday Laurel and I had brunch at a little cafe she had found on one of her previous trips. They had amazing coffee and made their own chocolate on site which was also delicious. It was a brunch buffet so we got to have all of the fresh fruit, OJ, and fried plantains we could eat. For lunch we ventured to a chain restaurant that I have totally forgotten the name of. But they had good cheap tex-mex and brought me my Rosa de Jamaica Fresco in a giant goblet. Rosa de Jamaica is a local drink down here made from hibiscus flowers (I think - maybe they're jamaica flowers). It's bright red/pink and is sweet and delicious. They have it everywhere - including McDonalds - and it's one of my favorites. I had it again at the pizzeria Laurel and I found for dinner on Sunday. It was a rather large restaurant with rooms for let upstairs. We were the only people there on a Sunday night and apparently the family that runs it is from Napoli, so it turned out to be really, really good pizza.

Other highlights included the bizarre interaction we had with the bartender at Sky Bar. Troy wanted to go out for Saturday night so we put together a list of places to check out from the two guide books we had. I made the clever decision to start at the farthest locale and work our way back towards our hotel so the more we imbibed, the less distance we had to cover to get home. Sky Bar was the farthest away so it was our first stop. It was 1) a tequila bar and 2) very quiet. When I say tequila bar I mean that in the top-shelf tequila kind of way. We sat down at the bar and were checking out the menu when one of the bartenders came up and said, very flatly, "get out." pointing Troy in the direction of the door. He motioned to Laurel and I, "You ladies can stay, but your friend here has to leave." We all looked at each other slightly confused. It shortly came out that our bartender was an avid football (read: soccer) fan, and his team was Munincipal - the team that Xelaju beat out for the championship in May. Troy was wearing a Xelaju jersey. This is essentially the equivalent of someone wearing a Yankees cap walking into an irish bar in southie. However, the weird part was that the bartender didn't then just laugh and happily take our money in exchange for drinks. He kept us at arms length the whole time and kept insinuating that we weren't welcome in his bar because of Troy's football jersey. He also insisted that all of their tequilas were sipping tequilas and recommended we try one. We felt awkward not having a drink, but our plan, upon seeing the subdued scene, was to do a quick round of shots and move on to our next bar. Instead we sat and self-consciously sipped our tequilas for twenty minutes before bidding our retreat, subjected to the minor-ranting of the bartender. It was just weird.

Following Sky Bar we hit up a couple other locales on our list, but got fed up with the cover charges (we don't have cover charges in Xela unless it's a benefit party night). We also got annoyed at the 20Q shots. At Pool and Beer in Xela, one of the local watering holes, you can get 3 shots for 20Q. Now, mind you, 20Q is around $3, so we really had no reason to be annoyed. Only that it was so much more expensive than our Guatemalan home turf. Welcome to relativism.

Anyway, once we'd had enough of the bars we headed home, stopping off for water and snacks - including another round of ice cream courtesy of Laurel's craving. Seriously, I heart that girl for reminding me about ice cream. There's a tienda on my way to school that has an ice cream freezer and now I usually stop on Mondays. Ice cream always makes Mondays that much better :)

San Pedro la Laguna - Lago Atitlan

In an attempt to keep my blog in chronological order, I'm posting this update about the lake (several weeks) late, but am retroactively dating it so it appears before the more recent stuff I've been up to.

View of San Pedro la Laguna from the lake surface of Lago Atitlan (Lake Atitlan)

While up at the mountain school I made friends with James (hai-may if you want to pronounce it in spanish) who was one of the "chaperones" for the Colorado school group trip. I put chaperone in quotes because James is a 19 year old college sophomore who is long-time family friends with one of the other chaperones of the trip, Chris, the mom of one of the students actually on the trip and to her younger son who also came along. Chris basically recruited family friends to help her chaperone the trip as an excellent excuse to go to Guatemala. They all had a great time and I know their students learned a lot. The rest of the group, minus James, only stayed 2 weeks, but James planned an additional four weeks or so since he had the time off from school. I also spent time hanging out with Troy up at the mountain school, as previously mentioned, although we had initially met at PLQ three weeks prior. Troy, it turns out, is also from Colorado although totally un-connected with the school trip.

Anywhoodle, while up at the mountain school the boys had talked about a Lago Atitlan trip the following weekend and invited me along. I had been wanting to check out the lake as I had heard that it's one of the most beautiful places in Guatemala, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity. Except for one small hitch: James is 19 and Troy is 20 and they both possess Y chromosomes. This is simply to say that their frontal cortex and executive functioning abilities aren't totally finished developing yet. The initial plan went like this: Troy wanted to know what the Saturday trip at PLQ was before committing to the lake. He would check out the schedule on Monday and call James with a yea or nay. If it was a yea, James would come to Xela either Friday night or Saturday morning and then we'd all take off for the lake on Saturday.

What actually happened was this: We listened to the schedule on Monday, the Saturday trip was one Troy had already done. He procrastinated on calling James and instead wound up making plans with his ladyfriend back in Colomba to go to the beach for the weekend (which he didn't mention until Wednesday). It was Thursday when Troy finally confirmed that he was going to the beach for the weekend instead of the lake, and that he still hadn't called James. So I called James and asked if he still wanted to go to the lake and then did the legwork to get us a place to stay and investigated the bus situation. I told James I'd meet him at the bus terminal in Xela Saturday morning, and we could catch the next bus to San Pedro la Laguna. BTW: made all of our reservations in Spanish :)

Lago Atitlan is a lake ringed in mountains and volcanoes approximately 3 hours southeast (I think) from Xela by bus (if you catch the direct bus to San Pedro la Laguna. If you don't, you have to make a connection somewhere and it takes longer. Also, if you catch the wrong bus to plain old San Pedro, you'll end up in another town with the same name but in the opposite direction. I'm told it's less fun).

The lake really is a gem as far as natural beauty goes. The bus takes you over the mountains which, for us, were clouded in and rainy. Once you get to the other side though you start your descent on a series of switch backs down the steep mountainside to the lake. At points you get an incredible vista of this large body of water nestled in amongst lush green mountains. It doesn't have the wow factor of Crater Lake's color, but it definitely has the wow factor of being hidden in a crater-like fashion. There's just this feeling of: wow, this place actually exists. I never would have guessed that on the other side of those mountains.

Clouds coming over the mountains ringing Lago Atitlan; taken from the surface of the lake

Because of this wow factor, the towns around the lake are popular tourist destinations, and San Pedro is one of the main draws. I had discovered a Guatemalan tour book someone had left behind in my bedroom in my new family's house and had used it to help plan our weekend. The book mentioned that local kids often meet the chicken buses and offer to help show extranjeros to a hotel in hopes of earning a few quetzales. This is exactly what happened. I had chosen our hotel for the reviews I found online and because it boasted a hot tub on the roof. It turned out to be right down on the main drag by the water, across the street from a number of restaurants. It also turned out that the hot tub was out of commission.

Our two young guides walked us down the steep hillside to our hotel, Hotel Mansion del Lago. We found our way across the courtyard to the office, and I mentioned our reservation. The woman took us up a level and showed us three options for rooms - all with single full-sized beds. "Umm...cuando yo llame, yo pide por dos camas separados" I awkwardly explained to her (when I called, I asked for two separate beds). This didn't phase her. Up another level and she opened the door to a room with two separate twins, and a private bathroom. Perfecto! By this point it was around 3 in the afternoon and both James and I were famished.

We dropped our bags (I had felt all clever having gone to Trauma, one of the fair-trade weaving cooperatives in Xela, before our trip and bought a nice sized over the shoulder beachy-like bag that could serve for weekend excursions. Bonus: I now had a way to transport gifts and other purchases back home) and headed across the street to the first restaurant we saw, Cafe Alegre. En route (literally, crossing the street) we were approached by a couple of guys in khaki vests reminiscent of safari guides. They talked in Spanglish with offers of "want to rent kayaks? horse-bak-riding? Volcano hike?" There are a number of tour operations in San Pedro offering to hook you up with just about any recreation activity you can think of. We waved them off and continued our quest for a meal, climbing the steps to the second-floor cafe.

Lunch was a bit of a culture shock. The bartender greeted us in English with a New Zealand accent. The menu was in English. In fact, there wasn't a single conversation being held in Spanish in the entire bar. American music blared, and the TV was tuned in to NBC's coverage of the US Olympic qualifying trials for diving, to be followed by coverage of the track and field qualifiers. James and I blinked, gaped, and shook our heads a bit - we'd forgotten that it was an Olympics year. We'd also kind of forgotten how to eat non-guatemalan food: James ordered a quesadilla as a tex-mex compromise.

Lunch was good, but our brains started to explode with so much assaulting English stimuli after 40 minutes or so. We headed out as soon as we were done eating. It had started to rain, as it usually does in the afternoon in the highlands region of Guatemala, but we wanted to see some of the town so we opted to ignore it. Our hotel sat on a corner directly across from the cafe/bar we had lunch at. The street that ran along the other side of the bar led the way down to one of two docks in San Pedro. There you can catch boats to any of the other towns on the lake. It's less than a block from the corner to the dock so we shortly returned and turned down the other street that makes up the corner with our hotel. There was a dessert/coffee cafe, a couple of internet cafes, and various shops selling jewelry and other items. We found one store that specialized in shoes and sandals made from traditional Guatemalan fabrics.

Further down there were street vendors selling more jewelry, much of which they made themselves. James marveled at our discovery of "Guatemalan Hippies" since the artists were mostly young folks our age, with dreads and piercings and tattoos. Plop them on the streets of almost any major American city (well, on the West Coast anyway) and they'd blend right in. San Pedro and a few of the other lake towns are known for being the free-thinker, ex-pat hippy centers of Guatemala. Our guide book said: "More than anywhere else in Guatemala, San Pedro has a distinctive bohemian feel, and there's plenty of bongo-bashing and bong-smoking counterculture in evidence. Yet despite the obvious culture clash between locals (most of whom are evangelical Christians) and travelers, everyone seems to get on reasonably well." I felt like that was a pretty accurate description, although they left out the Jewish Chabad House and what appeared to be a fairly active Jewish community (or at least an active Jewish travel community).

We continued our wandering down towards the end of the road, passing some other hotels and a laundromat with a giant sign out front advertising their services in English. "Your clothes will look clean and smell good." If I'd had laundry to do, that's where I would have gone. As we were coming to the end of the road we passed a tuk-tuk taxi driver who wished us a good afternoon, offered us a ride, and asked if we wanted any weed. We just about kinked our necks whipping our heads around to see if he'd really said what we thought we'd heard. Before our trek I had talked with some other folks at school, an austrailian couple, who had been to San Pedro the previous week and they emphasized this laizez-faire environment "They will literally offer you everything and anything, just walk down the street." The next day as I was looking at more of the street venders' jewelry they inquired if I would be interested in any number of illicit mind altering substances. "Ganja? Mushrooms? Coke? Acid? Want to see a menu?" You have a menu??? I thought, as I politely declined.

We finally gave in to the tour operators and rented kayaks for a few hours to paddle across the little arm of the lake that we were situated on. The views from the water were gorgeous. We went in search of a diving spot across the lake near San Martin (I think) but didn't find it before the weather changed on us. We kept watching the clouds coming over the mountain peaks, and saw the rain clouds gathering, but they moved much faster than we had anticipated. Even though we started for shore in what we thought was well ahead of the weather, we got caught in the rain and wind about halfway across. It made for a very wet rest of the kayak trip.

The color of the water changes from slate gray/blue to green throughout the day depending on the light and clouds. This is a view of the other shore we kayaked to. You can't see it, but there's a road that runs along the edge of the lake on the mountain which is the road we took in and out of town.

Another view of San Pedro from the other side of the lake

We also spent time wandering around different parts of town. In he main night-life extranjero section of town, the streets are like little mazes in between the buildings, which looked pretty cool. The main square/church courtyard which also serves kind of as the bus terminal is gorgeous too with grass and flower beds and a giant, colorful statue of San Pedro (Saint Peter).

The church at San Pedro

We were waiting for our bus underneath this arbor, watching people wander through the church courtyard. It was summer vacation week for the schools in Guatemala and we saw a lot of families here enjoying their vacation.

The brightly colored building next to the square added a really nice contrast to the bright white of the church. We watched a crew of window washers tackle all of the windows on this building in about 20 minutes. No ladders needed, they just climbed out the upstairs windows to stand in the planters.

The brightly painted statue of San Pedro (Saint Peter I'm assuming because he's holding keys in one hand and a ledger in the other)

Another gorgeous Guatemalan flower :)

So, the verdict is San Pedro la Laguna is a great little hippy town to visit, and the lake is gorgeous and relaxing. I definitely recommend a trip and, if I had the chance to go back, I'd love to visit some of the other towns around the lake.

Adventures in Bus Hopping

My week at the mountain school ended with my trip back to Xela, which, naturally, turned into an adventure of its own. Troy and I were both coming back to PLQ and we decided it'd be nice to catch the bus back together. Only one hitch: Troy had found himself a local "ladyfriend" and wanted to spend his last night with her at her house in Colomba. So we hatched a plan. Troy would call me from his gal's phone when he went to catch the bus in Colomba and I would then head out to the bus stop at the top of the road an attempt to catch that same bus as it passed by. There was only one road going from Colomba to Xela, and the buses generally run every half hour or so, thus our plan didn't seem so crazy that it wouldn't work.


The first part went quite perfectly; I got a call at noon and Troy said he was leaving the house for the bus in 10 minutes. It takes about 10-15 minutes for the bus to get from Colomba to the school, so I said I'd head for the bus stop in 15-20, and I did. It had started raining early - and buckets - thanks to the tropical storm, so I outfitted myself with my rain jacket, a poncho (actually a gift for Troy from one of the chaperones of the Colorado trip ... long story), and umbrella. I discovered that my attempt at re-waterproofing my hiking boots before I left the states did NOT work, but other than my feet I was quite dry and comfy. I waited about 15 minutes before I saw the next Xelaju bus (that's the name of the bus line that runs between Xela and Colomba) and I waved it down. This is how bus stops work in Guatemala, you kind of just stand at the side of the road and wave down the bus that you want. The Ayudante ushered me aboard and I gratefully stepped up into the dry interior of the bus. Of course, it was jam-packed with passengers so I didn't get any farther than the second step.

I said earlier that riding in the back of a pickup truck was the most dangerous form of transportation I have thus far taken while traveling. I lied. Standing on the second step of an old American school bus with the door open while taking Guatemalan mountain roads at 50 miles an hour in the rain is the most dangerous form of transportation I have taken.

After another stop a spot opened up for me to stand actually in the bus, rather than the doorway, and I was finally able to scan the passengers for my traveling companion. Troy was not on the bus. I stood, squished in the middle of 5 or 6 other passengers, traveling backwards as I was facing the interior of the bus, dripping water all over everyone, unable to take my backpack off, and pondering what to do. He must be on the bus behind this one, I thought. We must have just missed each other. The Ayudante started to express exasperation with me as I was getting his other passengers wet - wouldn't I just take off my poncho and bag??? As if I could move - you'd think it'd be hard to keep your balance standing next to the driver of an old school bus going 50-60mph on sharp mountain roads in the rain, but they pack people into chicken buses like sardines so it's really not possible to fall down - or do anything else. Another few minutes and I started to get pins and needles in one of my legs - it was stuck in an awkward position. I made an impulsive decision. At the next stop, I hopped off. The Ayudante looked puzzled, then slightly concerned, and pointed to his watch as if to say this was the last bus to Xela. Neither of us had much time to contemplate my sudden departure, the driver hit the gas and the bus pulled away, all within 15 seconds.


I had jumped off at one of those middle-of-nowhere stops. A father and his young son had been the ones to ask for it and they now stood in the rain looking at the loco gringa. "Donde va?" asked the father - where are you going? "Voy a Xela" I responded - I'm going to Xela. "Esta camioneta va a Xela" the father explained, somewhat puzzled (that bus is going to Xela). "Si, pero hay otros" yes, I said, but there are others. The father looked down at his son, looked back at me, shrugged, smiled a kind toothless grin, and wished me a good afternoon. The pair scampered across the road, down around the corner, and out of sight.

The implications of what I had just done then sunk in. I was standing at an unmarked bus stop, in the middle of a mountain range in Guatemala, by myself, in the rain. It also happened that this bus stop was at the apex of a corner - a blind bus stop if you will. Well that really was a rather stupid idea. I chastised myself and then took in my surroundings. If nothing else, I had stuck myself in a really pretty middle-of-nowhere. I was on the side of a lush, green mountainside. Across the road the land sloped down into a ravine/valley and trees poked up from the slope. Behind me was a gated and padlocked gravel drive that went up into the mountain. The road snaked around another bend to my right and in that curve across the street I could see some buildings, so I knew someone lived out here. I consoled myself with the reminder that this was the only road between Colomba and Xela. All of the Xelaju buses pass this way, it would only be a matter of time before the next one came, and in all likelihood Troy would be on that bus.

Although it seemed like longer, I didn't have to wait more than another 15 minutes. I had made a game of guessing the type of vehicle coming around the corner based on the sound while I waited, so I readily recognized the low deep rumble of the Xelaju bus working its way against the grade. I flagged it down with ease.

If the second Ayudante was surprised to find an extranjera at that particular point of the route, he didn't show it. I was again ushered aboard the dry waiting bus which was only slightly less crowded than the last. I quickly assessed that Troy was not on this bus either, but by now I had really had quite enough bus hopping and rainy mountainsides. I readily handed my umbrella and poncho to the Ayudante, who stashed them in the front of the bus, and after two more stops I managed to secure myself an actual, comfortable seat for the rest of the ride into Xela (it's only about an hour from Xela to Colomba - my bus hopping barely cost me an extra half hour).

When I finally did get myself back to school, Troy was already there, apparently having caught the bus before my first one. In the end, I rather enjoyed my solo adventure. Throughout both my trips to and from the mountain school I marveled at how much more comfortable I felt on the chicken bus than my first trip from the airport. A lot of the novelty had worn off and I was starting to enjoy the relative ease of this mode of travel. Need to get somewhere? Go flag down a chicken bus.