A day in the life

Many of my past posts have been about the spontaneous and memorable adventures I’ve made trekking across the mountain, lake, and tourist side of Guatemala. But no matter cool and Indian Jones-esque I would like to think you think of me, the truth is most of my time in Guatemala was spent as a student, volunteer, and adopted family member living just like you do—in a foreign city of course. That still makes me at least semi-cool, right?

All joking aside, these familiar routines and moments of everyday life are one of my favorite aspects of the trip. Sure it was incredible to be higher than I’ve ever been on Chikabal, hotter than I’ve ever been in Las Fuentes Georginas, and more Chaco-tanned than I’ve ever been at Lake Atitlan, but the thing that I will most remember from this experience is simply the fact that I was able to start from ground zero in a completely new country and culture and survive. And not just survive, but thrive with new friends, new job experiences, and new knowledge.  

So in my last week I set off to document the moments of just plain life I experienced living as an eager student of this amazing city and culture. Armed with my new, non-crazy-mind-of-its-own-glitchy camera I took to the streets of Xela to capture the scenes of my everyday life. Enjoy!

These are the chicken buses we took to all our weekend trips

 Where I found my favorite chocolate donuts! (conveniently located on the way from the orphange to the house)

Microbuses used to get around inside the city. They are normally PACKED with people.

 One of the gorgeous buildings surrounding Parque Central

The rotunda in the middle of Parque Central

 My favorite spot to sit and write in Parque Central

The Dispensa Familiar, a Wal-Mart owned corner grocery store where I bought lots of food.

El Cuartito Cafe! Now I guess we'll see how good of a writer I am. Is it what you were picturing?

This picture is kind of in the wrong spot...beautiful cathedral next to Parque Central

The ENITRE bathroom of El Cuartito was painted in chalkboard paint, and the messages changed every day

"Express yourself!" The chalk for this unique and totally awesome bathroom

A beautiful mural in the cafe. However, I think the girl is a little creepy. Am I right?

My church! In English it means "Rivers of Living Water"

A hilarious poster for a bakery that I always thought was a baby in the middle of flames. Until my friend pointed out that is bread behind him, not fire....

The outside of the orphanage. Wish I could have gotten some pictures inside...

The "iron fist" logo of one of the presidential candidates. Propaganda was painted not posted everywhere.

What a normal paca looks like

The outside of the house I stayed at with my host family

Part of the inside of the house. This is just one of the four houses that were all within the same complex.

The garage/patio that my room overlooked

Weekend at Lake Atitlan

First thing you need to know about Lake Atitlan: It. Is. Beautiful. Second thing you need to know about Lake Atitlan: It. Is. Gorgeous.

Lago Atitlan is said to have gotten it name from the Mayan word translating into “the place where the rainbow gets its colors.” ‘Nuff said. And I think the Mayans were right.

Clear blue skies, tropical green vegetation, deep charcoal volcanoes, flowers in bright purples, reds, and yellows, all melt down under the fiery orange sunsets into swirly watercolors ready to be splashed across the land and sky the next morning with the brilliant white sunrise. Beauty.  

Located about three hours away from Xela, Lake Atitlan is the largest lake in Guatemala and the deepest in all of Central America. It was formed in the crater of a massive volcano, and nowadays is surrounded by three volcanoes and a multitude of tiny villages named after the twelve disciples. And let me tell ya the greatest thing of all, it perpetually stays at a temperature of about 80 degrees during the days of bright sunshine and dips down into a comfortable 60 during the breezy nights.

Kristi, Kyra, and I caught a microbus, van, and then tuk-tuk Saturday afternoon to wind our way down to the lake shore, where we spent our next three days and nights basking in the sun and relaxing by the lake. We arrived in San Pedro in time for a late lunch on a patio overlooking the greenish-blue water.

We spent the rest of Saturday afternoon hunting down a hotel and exploring the city. The two-month-long Guatemalan citizenship in me was a little disappointed to find out this historic town had been hijacked by the tourism industry, replacing its traditional markets with gas stations and bars and causing its citizens to trade in their Mayan and Spanish languages for a few particularly polished, though not usually grammatically correct, English phrases.

Entonces (therefore), we hopped on a tuk-tuk (see below) and rode over to another nearby village called San Juan. This sleepy little town, almost untouched by foreign influences, couldn’t have been any farther from the big city hustle and bustle of Xela and the never-ending instant gratification of the touristy San Pedro. Finding our way down to the fishing pier, we spent the last hours of sunlight lying on the pier talking about life until the sun disappeared to reveal the first stars I have seen since Texas.

We awoke from our starry-eyed lull rather quickly however during our tuk-tuk ride back jamming out to Spanish rap music throbbing with deep bass notes and adrenaline. We grabbed dinner at a pub and relaxed the rest of the night in solar hot tubs located deep within a jungle of tropical trees and flowers. Interesting fact about our dinner: Saturday was a dry day in Guatemala, prohibiting serving alcohol since the presidential elections were the following day (not a bad idea, if you ask me). But what’s a pub without beer? Entonces, the pub served everyone their drinks in coffee mugs. Creative.

Sunday we got to experience another breathtaking view of the lake, from the inside looking out! After breakfast we rented kayaks and paddled our way to the center of the glassy lake where we spent an hour floating, splashing, soaking, laughing, tanning (or in Kyra’s case burning..), and above all enjoying.

On the way back to shore, we found out the only thing cooler than running through a flock of birds taking flight is paddling through a gigantic flock of birds congregated in the middle of the lake! Surrounded by flapping wings on every side while gliding through crystal water, surreal.

Later that night we found a funky restaurant serving Mediterranean food. A large striped tent strung with Christmas lights and multi-colored paper lanterns gave shelter to straw-woven mats and a plethora of cushions as guests lounged on the ground. Here, we ate amazing hummus and pita bread, drank fresh fruit liquados or smoothies, and created a bajillion inside jokes.

Monday we got to experience the lake in yet another way, from within! We started off the morning jumping on the early morning boat to another small pueblo on the other side of the lake called San Marcos. The town of San Marcos is built like a maze, with small tunnels and walkways cut out of the overgrowing jungle that lead to different places around the town. Along the lakeside, the rocks and trees open up to swimming holes. At one point along the side, the people of the town had built a wooden platform perfect for cliff jumping.

The ledge of the platform stuck out above the cliff side below and was long enough for the running start needed to fling yourself into the air. It was hilarious to see the different shapes everyone’s body takes on when left to itself for a few seconds in the air before the water’s impact. Below are some of the best shots from Kyra, Kristi, and I’s jumps.

Enfermedades y una familia cariñosa

The past week I spent in and out of the doctor’s office and pharmacies diagnosing and treating the bacterial infection in my stomach. Luckily, however, I didn’t have to navigate this new chapter of my Guatemalan experience alone. I spent the week with the Scott family who graciously offered me their five years of experience living in Xela, Spanish medical term translating ability, and spare bedroom for the past five days.  

This week-long journey started Monday with a doctor’s appointment with a specialist in gastroenterology and parasites. The 10:30 a.m. appointment turned in to a nine-hour day of no-food-or-water-allowed blood tests, breath tests, and an endoscopy under short-term anesthesia. For someone who has never even gotten their blood drawn, and definitely has never been on an operating table, it was quite a new experience.

Jenny filled the waiting bench, patient bed, and operating table side with conversation, experienced advice, encouragement, and laughter the whole time, filling my heart with comfort, encouragement, and peace. Her Spanish fluency covered my two-month Spanish gaps and I went into each new test or procedure with full confidence, even though it may have at times been accompanied by shaky nerves.

The nine-hours spent in the clinic and multiple new medical experiences were vale la pena (worth the pain) however because we came out on the other side with answers and some never before seen photos of my insides. The diagnosis: a bacterial infection which had led to a build-up of bile in my stomach and aggravated a previously-unknown hernia in my esophagus. Thankfully, nothing that isn’t easily treatable or manageable!

My treatment includes a few different (temporary) medicines taken before and after each meal and a slight (permanent, thanks to my unusually short esophagus) change in diet.

Although finding out bacteria has taken temporary residence is my stomach for the past two months, the good news is Spanish must be taking up permanent residence in my brain! Jenny told me that when I woke from the anesthesia and stumbled out into the lobby I came out chatting away in Spanish, albeit heavily-slurred and incredibly comical!

I spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday as part of the family, playing with the three adorable kids by day; running around to different pharmacies, back to the doctor after they couldn’t read his handwriting, back to the pharmacies to search for the medicine, and back to the doctor for official test results and receipts for my insurance during nap times; and hanging out and learning tons about life as a married couple, young parents, and missionary family from Brandon and Jenny. I could see so much of myself and who I want to be in Jenny and I can’t believe how blessed I was to meet this amazingly strong and incredibly giving woman.

Spending meal times, story book times, discipline times, home school times, temper tantrum times, frazzled times, unconditional love times, backyard muddy times, prayer times, and many other just plain life times with this family gave me such a sweet glimpse of what a marriage and family done right looks like overseas.     

Their three uniquely different and similarly loving kids gave me so much joy these past few days, and along with it, some hilarious memories. I will share a few with you below so you can get a taste of how fun this family is.

One night while getting the kids ready for bed, Deacon (the oldest, five years old) noticed his foam pool noodle transformed into a lightsaber was sitting under his bed. One thing led to another, and next thing I know Deacon, sporting a full-length Jedi cape and wielding the real deal light-up noise-making version, and I are engaged in an all-out battle flying across the pitch black living room in true Jedi master fashion.      

The next day Madeline (the second oldest, three years old) waltzed down the stairs to join us for breakfast in her Sleeping Beauty costume and proceeded to spend the rest of the day in the pink and sparkly ball gown. Later that afternoon Deacon, Madeline, and I acted out all her favorite princess movies in the backyard—placed, directed, and feed lines by Madeline. At one point, we acted out “Mulan,” the timeless endearing story of two sisters rowing in a boat until the princess jumps out and swims to her beloved’s castle only to find him dead but then brought back to life by a magical cape from Jesus after which they dance and live happily ever after while the other sister keeps rowing in the boat. Not the Mulan you are familiar with? Nor I, but it sure made for a great laugh!

Counting my blessings

Going on my eighth week here leaves a lot of room (53 days, actually) for missing a lot of things, from the food to the fellowship. At times, four weeks left feels like an eternity. So today I decided to make a list of things I miss and follow it up with a list of things I’m thankful for. Always a great reminder of how much I’m blessed :)

List of things I miss:

·         Reese’s peanut butter cups

·         Wearing shorts

·         Having roommates

·         My guitar, I’ve been able to still play with other ones, they just aren’t the same!

·         The deliciousness of Pei Wei

·         Homegroup!!!!!!

·         Worshiping in English

·         Sharing meals, church, laughs, and just plain life with my family

·         Aggie football

·         Doritos that AREN’T SPICY! (they have plenty of Doritos here, but even the nacho cheese flavor make my mouth burn..)

·         My fiancé—the warmth of his hugs, the comfort of his smile, the fun of our inside jokes, and of course his handsome face!

·         Drivers who obey the rules of the road

·         Pandora (it doesn’t work outside the US! who knew?)

List of things I’m thankful for:

·         A great, welcoming host family

·         My own bathroom (some students share with eight other people…)

·         Good friends at my volunteer sites

·         Beautiful places to travel, and the means to travel there!

·         Local people who love to take time out of their day to chat and help me practice my conversational Spanish

·         Warm blankets

·         New Guatemalan friends from Texas who spend nine hours in a waiting room with me

·         Skype!!!!!

·         The prayers of everyone back home

·         A great Spanish teacher with lots of experience

·         A church family that is excited to see me every week

·         The chance to learn something new every day

·         Children to love

·         The fact that donuts exist in Guatemala too

·         And last, but not least, the invaluable experience and confidence from creating a life from ground zero in a completely different county!

Food, fashion, and forecast

While most of my past blog posts have been about different experience and out-of-the-ordinary adventures, today I thought I’d do a little catching up on Guatemalan norms. If you have been wondering what the typical food, fashion, and forecast is like here in Xela, this is your chance to learn!

First, fashion. There are two main types of style, as different as night and day. The first is my favorite: traditional.

The traditional Mayan traje is my favorite because its wearers are clothed head-to-toe in vibrant colors of every hue, a mixture of soft and strong textures, and richly unique patterns. This type of style is all about the play between textures and layers. Braids and twists adorn their hair, wrapped intricately around deep purple sashes or rainbow-patterned head wraps. The ancianos weave the sashes as the third part to two three-part braids hanging down their back and the mothers pile all of their jet black hair into a bun encircled by a halo of ribbon. The younger girls tie their hair half-up and decorate their locks with rhinestoned and sequined hair clips in the shapes of butterflies, hearts, and swirls.

Hand-woven blouses boast embroidered patterns of parrots, people, harvests, suns and moons, zig-zags, and flowers around the neckline. Some are made of thick cotton material while others are made of shiny silk and accented with lacey ruffles and swirls of rhinestones. The blouses are tucked into high-waisted skirts that fall to the ankle. The skirts are made of the same thick cotton in navy blue, woven into a pattern of stripes with a rainbow of metallic thread. Thick belts of even more intricate handiwork cinch the skirt and the blouse together at the natural waistline, creating an hour-glass figure in all the young women. To finish it off, women of all ages (from 2 to 102) wear satin high heels, embellished with ruffles and rhinestones.

While the everyday display of such vibrant colors in itself is stunning, the beauty I find in this wonderful ensemble is the fact that it has survived the infiltration of Western modernization that has touch almost every other aspect of life.

In Xela it isn’t just the elderly or the people from tiny villages who dress in the traditional Mayan traje. It is quite common to see representatives from the entire age spectrum dressed in el traje tradicional browsing the aisles of the supermarket, eating in fast food restaurants, walking the mall, coming from school, and enjoying live music in the park.    

However, it is sadly only the women’s traditional dress that has survived the influx of the European and American style. In my almost two months here, I have yet to see a man, young or old, dressed in traditional Mayan clothes.

The second type of style seen in Xela is a carbon copy of the “hip and modern” style one can find in any mall in the United States. This trend is all about the scarves, solid-colored layers, and yes, skinny jeans. Even the deep man V-neck (unfortunately) hasn’t escaped the closets of Guatemalans. Here, skinny jeans are worn in every color, from neon to black, and are worn so tight one might mistake them for a second skin—not to be confused, of course, with the even tighter leggings worn under everything else. Neutral cardigans are paired with richly-colored flats or sandals to complete this look.

Second, climate. First of all, it’s important to note that the climate of Xela vastly differs from other places in Guatemala. In fact, Xela is known as one of the coldest cities in all of Central America, largely due to the high altitude.

The months of September and October are practically interchangeable in Xela. Average daytime highs reach 68 degrees Fahrenheit, while the nights dip down into the 40s. And just like the two completely opposite types of styles, the climate has two starkly different sides to it.

The Dr. Jekyll of Xela’s climate are beautiful sunny days during which the sun’s intense heat can make 68 feel more like 85. One of the greatest feelings in the world is when I leave the orphanage around noon and can roll up my pant legs into capris and remove my jacket to soak in the sunshine on my way back to the house. These afternoons are mostly spent blissfully roaming the streets and hanging out in the many parks catching up with friends or studying Spanish vocabulary and grammar. Bright blue skies are dotted with soft white clouds and the clear sky offers a view of the beautiful Guatemalan mountainside up to many miles away.

The Mr. Hyde of Xela’s climate are days of chilly rain and gloomy dark clouds that hide the sun and all of its warmth, making 68 feel more like 45. On these days, rolling my pants into capris is one of the worst feelings since it is usually done out of necessity, not pleasure, when puddles trade their place on the streets to my ankles. Fog and day-long misty rain covers the landscape and makes even the closest mountain giant disappear from view. These afternoons are usually spent inside, wrapped in blankets and sipping hot tea or frantically running to only completely necessary places.

I’ve been told that most September and October days are normally a happy medium of these two extremes, warm sunny mornings followed by daily showers in the late afternoon and clear nights. However, this year has been a year of the unexpected in Xela weather patterns. November normally brings a close to the rainy season and opens up to a cold, yet dry holiday season. I’ll let you know how that turns out!      

Third, comida a.k.a food. Every Guatemalan meal revolves around four basic foods, huevos, frijoles, tortillas, y arroz (eggs, beans, tortillas, and rice). A normal breakfast consists of one large fried egg or plantain served with black beans, either whole or mashed into a smooth paste. Another common breakfast item is eggs scrambled with chopped unions, diced tomatoes, and sliced hot dogs. Cornflakes with milk are also a popular choice in my home-stay, inverted style—meaning you dip separate spoonfuls of cornflakes into a small bowl of milk and repeat until the milk is gone, although I haven’t figured out if that is culture-wide or only the kids I live with.

Lunch is the biggest meal of the day as opposed to dinner in the States, which originally took some getting used to. Lunch is also by far the meal that varies the most from day to day and contains the most daily varied ingredients. Every lunch offers some kind of vegetable, usually a mix of vegetables. Most common is diced carrots, potatoes, and green beans mixed together with mayonnaise to create what the Guatemalans call an ensalada. At times, boiled chicken or breaded and fried patties of ham or ground beef balance out the vegetables, although it is common to go a few days without ever eating meat. We also eat rice, carrot, potato, and pea soup with homemade croutons regularly for lunch.

Dinner is very similar to breakfast, usually a fried egg with black beans and tortillas on the side.

Coffee is the most popular drink in Guatemalan culture. Adults and kids as young as five drink coffee with almost every meal. Sugar is the only thing every added to coffee, although many people drink it without adding anything. Fresh juice made from lemon, pineapple, papaya, oranges, and every other fruit available is a great choice for lunch on sunny afternoons.      

Recap of week six

Going on my sixth week in Guatemala and there are still new things to write about every day! The semblance of a semi-routine I had going from the past five weeks mixed up a bit this week. Friday was my last day of Spanish classes, leaving my afternoons completely free. I still volunteer at the orphanage in the mornings, but come two o’clock I have the whole day to explore the city, practice my Spanish, and catch up with friends. And I definitely made the most of this first week of tardes libres. Here are my weekday adventures from this previous week.

Monday. Autumn here feels colder than Texas winters. At first I thought I just needed a few weeks to get accustomed to sub-100 degree temperatures, but after six weeks of wearing two jackets at a time and still shivering I finally decided to buy another jacket. Luckily, Xela is the perfect place to find a nice warm jacket for a nice cheap price. Hundreds of second hand stores, called pacas, line the avenues and fill the street corners. At these pacas, one can find anything. Seriously, eh-nee-thing.

They are fun to wander into if you feel like immersing yourself head first in piles of shirts, jackets, pants, and everything in between—yes I even found adult footie pajamas. If you are really lucky, like I was hoping to be, you can even find brand name apparel, I’m talking Columbia and Ann Taylor, for under $10. You really never know what you are going to get. If you have something in particular you are looking for, however, it is a pretty hefty task.

So Monday Jessica, Maria, and I browsed the entire afternoon away in nearly twenty different pacas (covering only two streets!) in search of a warmer jacket. After trying on tons of way-to-large jackets and a maybe just a few silly what-was-that-designer-thinking tops, I finally found a nice Northface fleece for only $6! Glad I found such an awesome deal, but even without the amazing find I still would have counted it a win to spend a good afternoon laughing over the interesting ropa we encountered and the still-developing Spanish we conversed in.       

Tuesday. Upon arriving back at the house for lunch after my morning at the orphanage, I was greeted with an official yellow piece of paper with an urgent message. At first glance, I thought it was a telegram—because those things are common place these days?—or maybe I just secretly wanted it to be. After further examination I realized it was a notice from the post office that I had packages ready for pick-up. I’m not sure why they held them there this time instead of delivering them to the school like the previous time, but nonetheless it gave me the chance to explore another part of Xela I hadn’t yet!

I had about an hour to kill before meeting my friends, so I headed that way after lunch. It took me a little longer to find the post office oficina de correos than I was thinking. I knew the general area it is located in, so I took off figuring I would just make my way over there and stop when I found the official looking government building with the classic (American, duh! What was I thinking?) logo. It took me a few wandering passes down the street and back to realize the post office was just another chink in the brown-brick chain of stores. My feeling of triumphant was soon deflated, however, when the clerk told me he couldn’t help me and I had to come back an hour later.

The hour delay turned out to be a blessing in disguise because when I arrived the second time, I had three other people in tow to help carry the two heavy packages from my mom and sister. And  the heaviness turned out to be a blessing too, because it was caused by the likes of peanut butter, Nutella, a beautiful new journal and photo album, and many more amazing things. Gracias familia! Te amo!

After we dropped off the packages, Marjorie, Jessica, Maria, and I spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out, eating chocolate donuts! (okay, maybe that was just me), and speaking entirely in Spanish. It was exciting to see how far we have all come in our ability to speak Spanish. Although we still have a long way to go, we were able to converse more or less easily about our lives in Guatemala and back home, goals, favorite stories of families and friends, and even make jokes like any conversation one would expect four chicas to have in their first language.

Later that night, the Spanish school hosted a showing of the Argentinean movie Historias Mínimas (English title “Intimate Stories”). This multiple award-winning movie is said to follow three seemingly insignificant characters who’s day of seemingly insignificant tasks intertwine to create an underlying story of great significance.

We started off confident choosing to watch it in Spanish without any subtitles, and after about an hour clash between our pride and our severely lacking understanding we finally all caught each other’s glances and erupted in laughter realizing none of us had any clue what was going on. Even with the last half hour of subtitles and piecing together what we each happened to catch in the beginning of the movie, we all still left a little confused but no doubt thoroughly cultured in the art of Argentinean movie making.  

Wednesday started off with a whole lot of a rain and a whole lot of bad luck. First, I woke up late, ate breakfast late, got ready late, and arrived at the orphanage way late. Second, on the hurried walk to the orphanage I found myself the victim of someone else’s lateness too when a car sped past me without regard to the huge puddle-river on the side of the road and completely soaked me from the waist down. Third, when I finally arrived at the orphanage late and dripping no one answered the door bell or my knocking, leaving me standing in the rain for ten minutes until I decided to walk back home, take a warm shower, and change into dry clothes.

Luckily, my luck was so bad it was too comical to be frustrating and the rest of the day only went up from there! After a nice long shower, I spent the afternoon filling my walls with last-minute-packing forgotten and long awaited pictures of home I had received in my care packages. Surrounded by beautiful familiar faces and memories, I couldn’t help but be hopefully for what the rest of the day, and weeks, had in store.

And what was in store was a very interesting night. Our newly dubbed weekly guitar and cross cultural songs jam session was joined this week by another (American) classic campfire companion—smores! Ashley, Marcie, and I introduced the Guatemalans Javier and Julio and the Spainard Christina to the wonderful sticky yumminess of smores after a little bit of coaxing. The outcome? Julio loved them, while the other two “appreciated” them. And then they introduced us to the Guatemalan and Spanish names for marshmallows. In Spain, people call marshmallows nubes, which literally means clouds and in Guatemala they are called angelitos, which literally means little angels—interesting thing to think about next time you are snacking on some of that fluffy white goodness!  

   

Once again, our song selection varied across languages, decades, and music styles. But my favorite memory of the night, and one of my favorite memories of Guatemala so far, was the hilarious scene of three gringas and two heavily Hispanic-accented wannabes belting out We Are the World by Michael Jackson.   

Thursday started off with an exciting yet bittersweet moment in the orphanage. The youngest baby, Jaime, crawled for the first time! I have grown so close to all the sweet children after six weeks of working with them, and getting to witness such a big moment in one of their lives filled me with so much pride and excitement. However, the excitement was tinged with a bit of sadness knowing that these first few crawls went unnoticed by the people who brought him into this world and that the only person who took joy in his accomplishment is going to leave his life for good in just a few short weeks.

Later in the afternoon, the sun decided to finally grace Xela with its presence. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder; after so many days of chilly clouds my skin welcomed the kisses of the warm rays like it had never known such love. It’s crazy how 68 degrees can really feel like 90 after a few days of temperatures in the 50s. I celebrated the return of this long lost friend by passing the afternoon away in el parque central studying Spanish vocabulary and grammar. Now that I don’t attend Spanish classes every day, I have to make a conscious effort to keep up the studying and practicing so my pace of improvement doesn’t slow—or worse, stop. But sunny days like Thursday make it easy to grab a bench outside and spend a few hours with my Spanish book and journal.

That night, I went to El Cuartito to finally catch the live music. Supposedly every Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, the café hosts local live artists spanning a number of different genres. However, the past three times we’ve tried to check it out, no band was on schedule for that night. The only time I’ve caught a glimpse of the promised nighttime entertainment, was a last Thursday night when I had gone to the café to Skype expecting some peace and quiet. So this Thursday I went ready to hear the self described “Latin vibes” band.

The band consisted of an acoustic guitar, bass guitar, trumpet, a set of large bongo drums, and lead electric guitar and the vibes were definitely Latin! This band of guatemaltecos also had attracted a crowd of local university students and professionals and for once the foreigners were heavily outnumbered, so the café took one a whole different, and much enjoyed, atmosphere.        

On the way home, I grabbed a chicken sandwich from the fast food place Pollo Campero and thoroughly enjoyed my first Guatemalan fast food experience!

Friday I started a second volunteer project at a local church. The project provides a free hot lunch to ancianos, or elderly people, in the community five days a week. After a morning of working with the children in the orphanage, I walk about thirty minutes on the other side of town to the church where I help serve the food and just provide company for the thirty or forty men and women who come.

Although I have only visited for one day, I am already excited about getting to know this sadly forgotten age group that has so much to offer to their community and to volunteers like me in the process of shaping the way I see the world and the different but beautiful people in it.

I also had two pequeño mundo experiences with the two other volunteers in the lunch program. When I first showed up, I was surprised to see the English woman I had met previously in El Cuartito there for her first day of volunteering as well. In addition, I found out the second volunteer is from Texas and she knew even where Rogers was! That is definitely a first since being here.

A rainy weekend

All the rain from the past week, along with the rain that continued this weekend, turned the carretera, highway, leaving Xela into a muddy mess. Carving the main highway into the side of a mountain makes for breathtaking views, but it is also, unfortunately, only one rainstorm away from avalanchas de lodo (mud). Needless to say, our weekend trip to Lake Atitlan and the markets of Chichicastenango was postponed and I spent the weekend in Xela.

Ashley and I decided five weeks of complete Guatemalan immersion topped off with spending four days wading through slushy brown streets accompanied with a constant drizzle meant it was time for a nice long day of blanket-assisted relaxing with some familiar comforts from home. And thus the idea of American-food-movie-watching day was born.

We spent the early afternoon browsing the aisles of a corner supermarket waiting for that aha moment of the perfect snack we’ve been missing. Mine, of course, was bacon. And yellow Gatorade. We also stopped by a local produce stand to grab some avocados to complete the ultimate craving of the past five weeks—bacon, avocado, and tomato sandwiches!

Ashley has the perfect set-up for lazy afternoon cooking adventures. For the three months she is down here, she is renting a small house complete with a living room, kitchen, and Wifi all to herself. We fried bacon, sliced tomatoes, snacked on oranges, sunny side up-ed eggs, peeled avocados, brewed tea, and laughed the afternoon away catching up on all-things American we had been missing.

Conveniently, Netflix just extended their coverage to Guatemala last weekend which meant we had tons of movies at our downloadable disposal. We decided to challenge ourselves a bit with a familiar movie in Spanish subtitles and ended up with Anchorman. It was pretty hilarious to see how un-funny the jokes became with the all-too literal translations. After a little more snacking we also watched Once and we both had an incredibly hard time understanding the Irish and Czech-accented English of the lead characters after spending so much time used to Hispanic accents.

Ashley’s friend Julio came over later with his acoustic guitarra and we spent the next few hours trading off Youtubing, playing, and singing songs in Spanish and English. In my opinion, the best memory of the entire day was belting out and cracking up to one of the few English songs Julio knew, “Save Tonight.” It’s been so long since I’ve heard that song, I almost forgot how fun it is to sing at the top of your lungs! I also found out that it is super hard to sing in a language you only half-way know.          

Saturday night we went to El Cuartito to meet up with another friend and were surprised to see another one walk in after us. So Ashley, Allison, Pedro, and I spent the night eating nachos, tasting Gallo—Guatemalan cerveza, and discovering how small of a world it is to meet such random people in a place that feels like half-way across the world with so much in common.

Church today was an incredible blessing once again. I found myself sitting in the section of the ancianos, the Spanish term for older people, today instead of the jovenes. The older ladies always have a kiss on the check and warm hug to greet me every Sunday and today I got to know one of them more personally. Señora Julie—or Mama Julie, as everybody calls her—sat next to me this morning with her petite coat and giant purse.

To my surprise, she asked me if I spoke English. I was so caught off guard, that I answered “solamente un poco” thinking she asked if I spoke Spanish. Even though she was asking in English. Once my brain finally sorted out the strange mix-up, I told her I did in fact speak English and could only speak a little Spanish.

She didn’t just speak English. She spoke English really well. She told me how she used to live in California with her husband until he passed away from a heart attack. She told me how they had only been married for five years when he died. She told me how she came back to Guatemala to be with her family.

And then she shared her song book with me, her strong voice showing me where the notes were while her finger pointed to where the words went. During the fellowship time of the service, women young and old came up to Mama Julie and shared hugs and kisses, and I was so glad to have gotten the chance to know just a little piece of the heart of this wonderful woman who has touched so many lives.

When the service ended I asked how I could pray for her this week and she shared with me that her niece passed away this past week and her in her family were in need of comfort. If you would like, you can pray for her along with me! 

I spent the rest of this rainy Sunday hanging out with my host family, catching up with people back home, and praying for sunshine tomorrow. And my American-flavored weekend wrapped up with an unexpected but welcome dinner of steak and potatoes, spiced up with salsa picante and tortillas of course!

Rain drops

Today was another first: emergency weather warning!

Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. The rain has shown up every afternoon like a faithful friend—well, maybe not friend. Let’s say acquaintance—not matter how sunny it appears to be in the morning. It makes a grand entrance, beginning suddenly and falling forcefully, and then simply lingers for the next few hours.

But yesterday the rain over stayed its welcome. Rain in the morning, rain in the afternoon, and rain all throughout the night. Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain.

This morning we were awoken to the sound of a truck driving through the streets with a siren and loud speaker announcing schools and businesses were closed and canceled for the day. We were later caught up to the news of the inundaciones, or floods, by the radio announcer at breakfast. Many neighborhoods were up to their second stories in water and the streets were transformed into mini rios, rivers.

Xela is situated high above sea level and isn’t in the path of any major rivers. But here, floods are just a few extra raindrops away because of the crowded streets and old, too-skinny pipes. The family I am staying with is located in a part of the city that was safe from the floods’ destruction; however everyone was still advised to stay inside and wait out the rain, which meant no orphanage or Spanish classes today.         

Interesting side note: Apparently I came in a year that just keeps making history. This rainy season is one of the longest and strongest Xela has seen in quite awhile. Normally the rainy season comes to an end with the close of the month of October. Keep your fingers crossed!

Catching up on a week full of the usual and, of course, more unusual

Tuesday, I got caught in the rain. I’m actually surprised that today was the first time this has happened since it rains every day here! I’ve cut it close a few times, ducking into the door frame mere seconds before the sky opens up and finally pours out its pent-up frustrations of the day. Not this day.

It wasn’t completely horrible though! I met a really interesting old man with a really big, and thankfully hospitable, umbrella. What luck to see a giant black circle bloom from out of nowhere as he was leaving his hostel the moment I was walking past the doorway, right before the heaviest downpour began. His name is Roberto and he is from New York, although he has been living in Mexico for the past few years. The extra ten minutes he walked out of his way was full of stimulating conversation and made the rainy walk to school much drier and enjoyable. Necesito comprar una sombrilla muy pronto! (I need to buy an umbrella soon!)

Wednesday, my Spanish school took a trip to a local chocolate shop, or chocolateria, here in Xela. Doña Pancha began a chocolate shop out of her home many years ago and has grown her business into the thriving internationally-known store and chocolate history museum it now is today. When we showed up at the shop, we were escorted to a back room decorated with fancy golden curtains and royal tapestry tassels. The room was also equipped with a humongous flat screen television, definitely the first I have seen of those in Guatemala. Like many businesses in Guatemala, the upstairs of the building was the family’s house. Our table was stationed right in front of the ornately carved wooden staircase.

I was sitting on the left side of the table and had a perfect view of the tiny shy faces peering through the handrails for a few seconds until they lost their courage and disappeared from sight giggling. However without fail, the pointy chins and flashing eyes would appear once again. At one point, when I guess they deemed it safe, one boy and one girl sprinted down the staircase and jetted into the adjoining room. A few minutes later the boy reappeared, slowly scooting along with his back straight against the wall in his four-year-old attempt to be invisible.

Although I spent a good amount of time watching and laughing at these adorable niños, I did catch a lot of the video on the history and importance of chocolate in Latin America. In the period of the Mayans, cacoa (pronounced as “kah-KOW) beans were used as currency, and the hot chocolate “drink of the gods” that was made from them was reserved for royalty. Later in Guatemala’s history, hot chocolate become common among all people and was used to “gladden, freshen, console, and invigorate” the partaker. Hot chocolate is still a huge part of Guatemala culture today, and many cafés and families make their own straight from the cacoa bean.

During the presentation, la Doña served us chocolate fondue with fresh fruit, peach yogurt topped with melted chocolate, and the “drink of the gods” itself in handcrafted vases with tiny spouts and handles. I think those Mayans were really on to something, because the best way I can think to describe the homemade chocolate was celestial (heavenly).  

Later that night, I had made plans with Ashley to check out the free Salsa lessons at the local discoteca La Parrada. Discoteca literally translates to the English word “disco,” although a more accurate description of La Parrada is a modern-day dance club. Flashing lights, large screen television, sleek white bar, smoke machine-created fog, blasting music, fist-pumping jovenes, hip wall art, a bunch of gringos who can’t dance…you name it, it was there.

Unfortunately, Ashley and I had different ideas about where we were meeting up so after a few minutes of searching for her in the park I walked to the coffee shop we visit often to try my luck there. I never ended up finding her, but I did stumble across Caroline, a woman I knew from the Spanish school in the coffee shop with one of her friends, Sarah. Caroline and Sarah are both from England, although they have spent the past twenty years living in an array of different countries. I joined them for dinner and heard story after story of their separate times in Africa, Thailand, Australia, China, etc. I also found out that they were planning on going to La Parrada that night as well, so we went together.

We danced to tons of American pop songs until they finally started the Salsa lesson. Everyone lined up in line-dance style behind two instructors who signaled various types of steps while everybody followed along. The different types of Salsa were all pretty easy to follow along, until we got to the spins. With only one foot of space in between dancers on the packed dance floors, it was hard to tell whose flailing arms were who’s with everyone was falling into each other. But at least I knew I wasn’t the only one completely lost!

After the lessons, I stayed for a few more dances with some guys from the local college and then headed home. The lesson I learned from my first Salsa lesson: I need more Salsa lessons.    

In other news, we made the Guatemalan television news Thursday! The orphanage was occupied by an entire film crew hauling gigantically complicated and amazingly complicated equipment and a few men and women wearing fancy suits and practiced smiles. The kids were all dressed up, showered up, and hyped up and in matching t-shirts, combed hair, and cheesier-than-normal personalities. They had all the kids old enough to walk gather on the backyard playground to recite some cutesy phrases while I stayed upstairs with the few babies and toddlers who couldn’t join. But these babies definitely didn’t miss out on their fifteen minutes of fame! They actually got some coveted close-up time when the film crew hauled their cameras upstairs to film action shots of the babies playing. Looks like my Guatemalan television debut will be random frames of me making silly faces at the babies to make them laugh.

And the excitement didn’t end there! Friday, the national reining Princess of the Independence Festival (which I later found out carries as much weight as Miss USA is the States) visited the orphanage with piñatas and pan dulce (sweet, cake-like bread) for the children. Miss Guatemala wore a beautiful white gown embroidered with golden flourishes and wrapped with a silky golden sash, golden toe nail polish, four-inch high heels, and an intricate diamond crown nearly a foot tall. The children, and most of the workers, spent most of the time in awe of her extravagance. It was such a privilege to meet her and shake her hand, because this princess is history in the making. She is the first black-skinned woman to win this title.

Miss Guatemala also brought with her a posse of cameras and reporters and gave a touching speech of how she believes every day should be un dia de los ninos. Quite inconveniently, however, the piñatas were both full of nothing but chicle, or gum, and by the end of the day most of the under-four children I work with had chicle-filled pelo (hair).

Later that day, my Spanish teacher Oscar and I walked around el parque central during our Spanish class, which once again was spilling over with hot food, balloons, people, streamers, bands, and trinket peddlers for yet another celebration. Friday the 7^th was the official day honoring Quetzaltenango’s patron saint Rosario, and by “official day” they mean another day of the same day-long community-wide music-filled market frenzy. Luckily el parque central is on the (long) way to my Spanish school, so I get to enjoy the festive atmosphere and learn about the plethora of holidays Xela has to offer. After my Spanish class was over I met up with some friends at a nearby coffee shop and we made plans to spend our Saturday exploring the natural hot springs around Xela.   

     

 Finally, a weekend free of parasites and never-changing scenery! Here is the short version of nuestro viaje (our trip): The place? Las Fuentes Georginas. Natural sulfur hot springs on the side of a mountain located thirty minutes from Xela. The group? Me, Ashley-a volunteer from Arizona, Maria-a student at my Spanish school from Denmark, Pedro-a student at my school from Arkansas (or as the Guatemalans pronounce it Ar-Kansas), and John-a random guy we met on the bus ride there also from Denmark (el mundo es pequeno!) The mode of travel? Round trip travel in a chicken bus to Zunil, back of a pick-up truck up and down the mountain. The cost? $5 total transportation, $7 to enter the springs, $5 for lunch on top of the mountain. The hot springs? Hot. The view? Breathtaking. Biggest bummer? Broken camera meant no pictures. Favorite part? Building friendships with such unique people.   

Now that you have the who, what, when, where, why, and how, feel free to move on to Sunday. However, if not reading the details is killing you as much as not typing them is killing me, enjoy the next few paragraphs.

We all met Saturday morning at centrally-located coffee shop and began the trek through downtown Xela to find the bus. Once boarded, we were squished three-to-a-seat for the next twenty minutes gazing out at the rugged country side frequently interrupted by small pueblos of crumbling buildings and vibrant citizens. The bus stopped at the town of Zunil where we wandered around the city until we found the central market loaded with vegetables, raw meat, handicrafts, and pick-up trucks headed to the Fuentes. We climbed in the back of a truck and bounced up the rough winding road headed towards the top of the mountain.   

The driver let us off underneath a huge cave carved out of the mountainside spewing smoke. A little man sitting inside the cave left his sauna to greet us and hand us tickets. The entrance to the hot springs was just a few more miles from there, and the walk was populated with leafs bigger than humans and flowers of every color and shape. Our first sight of the hot springs was the misty steam that obscured anything not twenty feet in front of you. After walking through this steam for a few minutes, the pathway opened up into the actual Fuentes Georginas. A tour company had cut out three different piscinas, pools, from the rocky ground and had built changing rooms, restrooms, and a casual bungalow-styled restaurant.

Although the construction and layout of the place was a bit touristy, the atmosphere of the springs was nothing short of natural beauty. The minerals from the springs turned the ordinary water into greenish-blue glass and the natural rock sides and bottom of the pool were mirrored above the pools in the cliffs of rock and tropical trees that went up as far as the eye could see. Steps were carved into the side of the pools as the perfect place for relaxing.

Two hours of the hot water and rising steam gave us a glimpse of what our skin would look like seventy years from now with deep wrinkled crevices swirling around our fingers and toes. We couldn’t handle much more than two hours, so we changed back into our clothes and ate a bite of lunch in the restaurant. The restaurant was made completely out of deep brown wood with a covered roof and open walls. The steam rose from the pools and into the restaurant to moisten our skin in there also. On the way back, we had to walk halfway down the mountain until a pick-up truck finally showed up and drove us the rest of the way down. We arrived back in Xela around 5:30 and we went our different ways for a long siesta and dinner with our host families.        

This Sunday was both uniquely beautiful and surprisingly similar to home. I started off the day spending some time in parque central before church reading, writing, and praying. For the first time in a long time, the sun was smiling in the sky and tickling my skin with its much-missed golden rays. While in the park, I met some nice old men, one of who used to be a teacher in a Spanish school, and spent some warm minutes with the warmth of conversation as well. I was also approached by a group of students conducting research and participated in their picture study. Our conversation was light and breezy, and I understand and responded to all they were asking. I don’t think they even knew I couldn’t speak much Spanish! The weather was beautiful and the people so friendly I decided to make it a Sunday morning tradition.

I arrived at church a few minutes before the service began and found an empty seat. Just a few seconds later the nice old man and one of the students, Freddy, filled up the seats beside me and asked to hear all about my week and weekend. Their friendship and hospitality was as refreshing as the beautiful weather in the park. They also invited me to the jovenes (young people) worship and fellowship time that happens on Saturdays. Hopefully I can check it out this weekend.

For the past two weeks the pastor has challenged the congregation to memorize Acts 2:42, a verse about the fellowship of the first church. The topic for the lesson this Sunday was gathering in each other homes to live out the message of the Bible. It sure did make me miss my homegroup!

After church, Ashley, Pedro, and I decided to check out the more modern side of town-home to the Wal-Mart, movie theater, and shopping mall. We asked around for the right microbus and hopped on one right before the rain began again (I knew the gorgeous weather was too good to be true!). Twenty minutes and 1.5 Quetzales later, we found ourselves standing right in the middle of what could have been any town in America. The blue and yellow Wal-Mart sign had made the trip down to Central America completely unchanged, the shiny clean mall had its own parking garage and two stories of row after row of retail, and Cameron Diaz and Matt Damon stared down at us from the movie theater posters.

One interesting difference was the Wal-Mart was actually inside the mall! And, much to our dismay, the prices were in most cases identical to (and in other cases higher than) their American counterparts, making this Wal-Mart slogan “always the highest prices” here in Xela. However I did make one purchase. There is just something about four weeks without peanut butter that will convince even the most economical person to spend 36 Quetzales ($6) on a sixteen ounce jar of Peter Pan’s finest matequilla de manía.  

While at Wal-Mart, I also bought some papas fritas, or French fries, and a chocolate donut from their prepared foods section to snack on while Pedro and Ashley split off to do some more intense shopping. I sat down at the only open table and was joined by a nice older Guatemalan couple a few minutes later. We spent the next thirty minutes chatting in Spanish about our jobs, families, hometowns, languages, travels, and religion. We also discovered a random coincidence: when Daniel found out I lived in Texas he told me the two cities in Texas he had visited and one of those towns is Bryan/College Station, home of the Fightin’ Texas Aggies! Once again, el mundo es pequeno (have that phrase memorized yet?). I love the blessings of good conversations, new friends, and opportunities to practice Spanish.

My travel companions and I met up after Wal-Mart for window shopping and mall gazing. It was not what I was expecting though. I couldn’t wait to see how Guatemalans put their unique flair on the cookie-cutter blandness of shopping malls, but what we really witnessed was the complete absence of culture in this all-too-familiar retail blur. It was also plain to see that this mall was only frequented by the upper class elite. The stark difference between working-class families and the upper and middle class is almost as far apart as two different worlds.  

And last but not least, I can’t wrap up this week-long report without the most exciting news of all. I got my first package in the mail this week! It’s amazing how the appearance of something so routine, so impersonal, and so square can excite some of the most euphoric and deeply personal feelings. And of course opening the box multiplies those feelings tenfold! Especially when I behold a beautiful journal from mi prometido (fiancé). He knows my heart so well. Side note to all you lovely readers: it took three weeks to get here. Which means you only have five weeks left to send me something if you want it to arrive before I leave ;)