The Gun Show

Today's adventure: using an ATM in a country that the US State Department will try to convince you is the one of the most dangerous places in the world.

The good news is that this afternoon my stomach situation was starting to feel like it was settling down. At least enough that a 20 minute escapade away from immediate access to a bathroom didn't give major cause for concern. My hope is that I'll be feeling well enough tomorrow morning to go on the school trip to nearby Conception to check out a Myan ritual site (and see a Myan ritual if one is going on) AND, even more exciting for me, go check out the local comadronas (midwives) clinic!

The bad news is the trip requires cash and my initial reserves had finally run dry. This meant braving a trip to the ATM. I know I say that as though it's a tremendously treacherous thing, when in reality folks stop at the ATM here the same way they do back home, maybe putting away their cash with a little more alacrity. But, this being my first time really traveling abroad, and living in a city where our school staff caution us about going out alone after 9:30, I was still nervous. I figured I should make a point to go while it was still broad daylight, and before the afternoon rains rolled in.

Of course the whole trip was uneventful. I inquired at school first as to the whereabouts of a 5B ATM because those had been recommended for my type of bank card and for lack of identify theft scandal. While the student coordinator couldn't recall the exact brand of ATM, she gave me directions to 4 different options in Parque Central. If the first didn't work, I could head to the next, and she assured me that they were all perfectly safe to use. As luck would have it, the first one was a 5B machine.

There were two folks ahead of me so I stood and waited, taking in the square and the armed security guard next to us. I don't think I'll ever quite get used to the high visibility of arms that even the security guard at McDonald's displays prominently (yes, there's an armed security detail at McDonald's. 24/7 or whatever their hours are). These are not your standard-issue US police handguns. They are large-barreled, heavy, automatic weapons requiring two hands. They look like something out of a Terminator movie, and they're everywhere. I'm not well versed in guns by any means, but seriously, AK-47's look delicate compared to these things (AK-47s appear to be the standard-issue weapon of choice for police, so I do get to make the comparison quite often).

Anyhow, after the two other customers were finished it was my turn. I was thrilled to discover that, just like in the states, ATMs are in spanish and english down here. Apparently, however, checking accounts are not referred to as checking accounts. This lead to some confusion on my part. I put in my card, put in my PIN, selected withdrawal...and then picked the option that I understood the best, which was savings. I was momentarily befuddled when the ATM told me that my transaction couldn't go through, and quickly popped back to the start page.

Oooo-kaaaay. It dawned on me that my card never accesses my savings account, that I must have made the wrong selection.

Round 2: Insert card, type in PIN, select withdrawal....alright, so savings is not what I want (duh) maybe credit card? I mean, my debit/ATM card can act like a credit card. It looks like a credit card. I also didn't recognize the other option - a DDT account I think. So I picked the credit card option. No dice, again.

By now I have multiple thoughts running through my head. 1) I'm taking too long, anyone who was looking for an easy target has found it in me - I clearly don't know what I'm doing. 2) What if I'm somehow compromising my card and PIN info every time I enter it here? What if someone has hijacked this ATM to steal account numbers and has rigged it to keep giving error messages while they record the data they need? (Ok, so I'm a little paranoid - the two folks ahead of me had no troubles)

Flustered, I turn around to assess my options. It's just me and the security guard with the big giant gun. I try to act as nonchalant as possible while asking if there's another ATM nearby. "What brand of card do you have?" He asks. I hesitate a moment before telling him. "This ATM should work for that card, are you having trouble?" Huh, I say, and decide that I can try one more time, since there is that 3rd option I haven't tried yet and if my account info is going to get lifted, it's already been done. The guard makes his visual sweep of the area and looks back. In english this time he says, "Try again." he encourages and smiles, "If you need help just ask me, I can show you." His manner is non-threatening, and he doesn't make a move, leaving plenty of space between us, and leaving it up to me to ask for assistance. I smile and say thank you, and turn back to give it one more go. It works, apparently checking account is the same as a DDT account, or whatever.

I safely stash my cash in my hidden pouch under my clothes, tuck my card in my front pants pocket where I can keep my hand on it, and grab my receipt. I smile and thank the guard again as I leave, and he wishes me a good afternoon. I decide that, on the upside, having a big-ass don't f-with me gun probably means that people don't usually f-with you. Or your customers using the ATM 6 feet away.

Sulfur and Roosters

Before I was overcome with tummy troubles, I was feeling up to going on a school trip to some local hot springs, Las Fuentes Georginas. They're about a 45min to hour's drive south west of Xela, I want to say, up at some elevation higher than the city after going through farm country. They're thermal hot springs, rich in sulfur and other minerals and heated by volcanic activity. It's a delightful spot. It was very foggy/misty when we were there as the mountain top was in the clouds. The mist gave the whole place a rather mystical feel to it. There was a nice stone path leading a short distance to the pools, surrounded by lush vegetation. Some plants with leaves that resembled squash or pumpkin leaves lined the pathway - except that these leaves were huge - easily a square meter each, if not a bit bigger.

There were three pools at the end of the trail we walked up, two around 95 degrees F or so and another that was much hotter - 112-120 I'd guess. I couldn't stand in that one longer than a few moments. There were spigots, though, directing water from the super hot pool into the others, and I found that the mix was exactly the temperature I wanted. The little oasis was set in on the top of where water was trickling down the mountainside and cutting a gorge into the landscape. a stream wandered it's way through the rock down below. All around us was forest and vegetation. I floated on my back for a few minutes staring up at the overcast, misty sky, the opening ringed in trees.

In addition to the three pools there was a bathhouse, a little gazebo lookout over the valley/gorge below, and when you first walked up to the pools a bar that looked like it had just tucked itself into the rock and had always been there. After our tranquil and relaxing soak we all had a nice refreshing Gallo (Spanish for Rooster, which is the company logo - it's the most widely distributed local Guatemalan beer). Aside from the twisty-curvy mountain road drive, it was a most pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

Adventures in Germ Land!

Well, it's been an iffy week for my stomach, which was to be expected somewhat. I had just about convinced myself that I had somehow beat the odds in being afflicted with the classic case of GI Tango for Travelers... but my good fortune ran out Thursday morning. I've spent the last two days lounging in bed, keeping myself a safe, close distance to the facilities. In contrast to my food poisoning ordeal just before my trip, this has been a walk in the park, so part of me feels kind of silly for having holed up for two days. This morning I finally agreed that maybe it would be a good idea to check in with the local diagnostic lab and make sure I wasn't in for any nasty surprises over the weekend. If nothing else, it certainly provided me with an experience. Since I wasn't capable of focusing on learning any new grammatical rules, my teacher accompanied me to help with navigating the way to the clinic and the conversations at the clinic - both of which I was immensely grateful for.

Step 1: Stand in line with the 30 other folks who got to the clinic at opening time to pay for whatever service you are there for. This takes about an hour or so, even once they open up a second line. While waiting oogle cute (but not feeling well) babies and very tired mamas. Puzzle over the strange cartoon program playing on the old TV in the corner of the waiting room that seems to be about STIs, but is maybe just specifically about syphilis or HIV. Main character is a muddy-brown cartoon germ-sergeant in charge of an army of pink and green germ berets. Cartoon looks like it's from the late 70's/early 80's and keeps featuring outlines of the universal symbols for a man and woman with various flashing red X's over their genital areas.

Step 2: pay Q16 (~$2.25) for lab order slip

Step 3: go to the lab to receive your sample collection vessel, marked with your ID number written on masking tape (it's one of those little plastic containers you get extra duck sauce in when you order chinese take out)

Step 4: sample collection. The bathroom didn't have any toilet paper in it, or soap. I alerted my teacher to the first problem and the receptionist at the collection window was empathetic but unhelpful in rectifying the situation. She seemed rather resigned to the fact that there was no toilet paper available. Sorry. My teacher told me to wait and disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a covertly smuggled fresh roll. I figured soap was completely out of the question. Best 99 cents I ever spent: pocket-sized bottle of hand sanitizer. I don't care if I have to go back to Walmart and pad their pockets more while I'm here, I will find a refill for that baby when it runs dry.

Step 5: return in an hour and a half for results. I had no idea what to do with the roll of toilet paper my teacher had so gallantly procured for me. I tried to ask her if it needed to go back somewhere, or if I should leave it in the bathroom. We must have totally mis-communicated. She seemed to indicate that I should tuck it away on my person, so I wound up bringing it home, although I had no good reason to do so. It's not that it won't get used, it's just that it would have been so much more appreciated in the clinic bathroom.

Step 6: arrive back at clinic for results. Wait another hour. Marvel that, because a lot of clinical vocabulary derives from Latin, and Spanish is a Romance language that also derived from Latin, an awful lot of terms are extremely similar. Be intrigued that the full clinical term for a Pap Smear (Papanicolaou) is spelled out every time, and be amused that it takes you 15 minutes to figure out/remember what a Papanicolaou is.

Step 7: read results and be relieved that you are negative for parasites and amoebas. Yay!

My own little corner of the world...

One last adventure for my first Saturday - eating out.

I finally braved dining in a locale other than my family's house or school. Caitlin, one of my new buddies from school, is in Guatemala by way of the west coast of the US. She told me I had to go check out this cafe she'd found. "It's just like the independent coffee shops you'd find in Portland or Seattle," she explained. We've been getting together some weekday afternoons to practice our speaking skills, so we made a date for Saturday afternoon at el Cuartito.

Que? or Adventures in espanol

Saturday was a day full of adventures. In addition to earthquakes and football championships, I took my first solo trip across the city. To the infamous Xela Walmart (it does exist). To buy a mobile phone. My host mom told me I could catch one of the many microbusses at the smaller parque two blocks from our house, Parque Bolivar. She gave me a 25 cent coin and instructed me to pay my fare in exact change because otherwise they'd think I was a crazy gringa who couldn't count and wouldn't give me change for, say, Q5. (Microbus rides cost Q1.25 per person one way, around 15 cents US). I think they probably would have given me change for a Q5, but until I learn how to say "do you have change for..." I'll stick to small bills and exact change.

Nosotros somos campiones, mis amigos (We are the champions, my friends)

Xelaju son les campiones de futball en Guatemala!!!

My day started with an earthquake, and ended with an eruption. I think it was the chicken commotion that woke me up yesterday morning around 5:30, just in time to feel my bed sway in a gentle circular motion. The amount of time it took my brain to formulate the thought of "hmmm, feels like an earthquake" was about the amount of time it lasted. Maybe 20 seconds. It was a very small one, I'd guess around a 3 something on the Richter scale. If you hadn't been laying or sitting very still and quiet at the time, you'd have missed it.

Last night Xelaju, the Xela football (read: soccer) team, won the national football championship in their home stadium.

Una cena tipica

Cada viernes, tenemos una fiesta y una graduacion. Each friday we have a party and graduation.

As I think I mentioned in my last post, each friday at school a dinner is held for all of the students and teachers. The meal alternates each week from a cena tipica (traditional guatemalan dinner made by the staff) and a cena internacional (an international dinner made by the students). The dinner is also a little party and "graduation" ceremony for students who are finishing their last week of study at the school.

Poco a poco...

En la escuela (at school).

Esta mi primero semana de clases en la escuela El Proyecto de Linguistica Quetzalteco de Espanol. Me gusta mucho estudiando aqui! Esta semana, mi maestra es Teresa y nosotros estudiamos espanol por cinco horas cada dias. En la escuela, hay un patio y nuestro escritorios estan a lado del patio. Tambien, hay una cafeteria pequeno donde hay cafe y te y pan por comemos cuando tenemos pause de la clases a las diez y media.

It's my first week of classes at the school The Quetzalteco Spanish Linguistics Project. I like studying here very much! This week, my teacher is Teresa and we study Spanish for five hours each day. In the school, there is a courtyard and our desks are next to the courtyard. Also, there is a small cafeteria (cafe) where there is coffee and tea and bread for us to eat when we have our break from class at 10:30.

En la casa, hay ochos salas. (In the house, there are eight rooms.)

Posting this a few days after writing. Edits/updates are in italics.

My host family are the Hernandez'. Lizzeth is my host mom, her husband, Eduardo, daughter, Carolina and grandson, Luis Eduardo also live here as well as their dog, a little cocker spaniel whose name I hear often, but still can't make out - I think it's Peggy. Our house is quite literally around the corner from school (okay, two corners) and between there and here there are many little shops selling all sorts of stuff. This afternoon I went to the libretaria which sells school supplies to purchase a notebook for class. My transaction went much smoother than my first evening at the internet cafe across the street, mostly because I could say "yo neccessito un cuaderno" I need a notebook.

one if by land, two if by sea, three if by chicken bus

Estoy en Xela, en Guatemala.

Well, I made it. After a slight delay in Florida, my flight got in to Guatemala City right on time. The airport is expansive, clean, and mostly empty - which contrasts sharply to the throng of people waiting outside for arrivals. There are all of the families of travelers, plus street vendors selling all sorts of snacks - candy, fruit, meat, tortillas; plus people begging for money under the pretension of selling pens and pencils, and the taxi stand commotion.

The Packing Post

Alright, as alluded to previously, here is a post about what I'm taking with me. Or not.

Several folks have been surprised, and even a bit skeptical, when I tell them that one of my objectives for this trip is to travel with just one carry-on worth of stuff.

That's it.

For three months.

Geography & Bird Watching 101

I love blogs. I love blogs because they allow me to share the wonderful, hilarious chat conversations I have with my brother. I promise he's way smarter than he appears here and this is totally, unfairly, at his expense.

T-minus Six Days

I leave for Guatemala on Sunday and my original plan had been to make a couple extra pre-trip posts here with a little bit more about where I'm going and my, apparently interesting, plans on what I'm bringing (or, rather, what I'm not bringing).

The thing I did not plan on was getting food poisoning barely a week before my departure.

In order to appreciate how comically awful this experience is you need to know a couple things (the rest of this section is probably not for the weak of stomach):