Monday, May 31, 2010
Home Again
Arrived safely in Xela this evening. The devastation from Agatha is unlike anything I have ever seen or imagined, and this includes the horrific flooding in Nashville that I fled a few weeks ago. It was an incredibly sobering trip home. More to come.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
La Tormenta
Greetings from now-lovely Antigua!
It has been quite the weekend. When I found out about the eruption of Pacaya on Friday morning, I feared I wouldn't be able to get into Antigua since the roads from Antigua into Guatemala were bad. But the tour agency assured me they were monitoring the situation and believed it was safe. So at 3pm on Friday, I was picked up and soon learned it was a full shuttle. There were 11 of us, plus the driver, crammed into a small, 4 bench Toyota van. All the other travelers were heading into Antigua in order to try to catch a bus to El Salvador, where the international flights were being diverted since the airport in Guat City was closed due to Pacaya.
I rode next to a very kind guy named Nathan, who had been volunteering in Xela for the past three months. Behind us were a hippie couple, complete with their ukelele, which I feared they would play during the whole trip. The couple in front of me had a laptop and DVDs of "Big Love" and "Entourage." They had Spanish subtitles turned on, so while were were careening through the mountains in the pouring rain, whizzing past tiny pueblos and mountain shacks, I watched HBO programming.
It poured rain the whole trip, and no one wanted their gear on the roof, even if it was tarped up. BUt since the shuttle was full, there was nowhere else for it to go. I had packed light, and had only a daypack with me, so my stuff remained dry in my lap. Yay. The last two members of our group to be picked up were two older women. One of them, a plump lady in her mid 60s, demanded the passenger seat from the guy who was in it. He refused, citing he got carsick and she said that she got sick as well, was a woman, and was older than him, and therefore she deserved the seat more than him. He wouldn't budge and they got into a heated argument in the rain, at the end of which she called him the P word, which made the rest of us crack up. She didn't win the fight, and ended up riding on the middle jump seat of the front row, in between him and the driver.
We rolled into the Tig around 6pm, and the rain was coming down really hard. Nathan, my shuttle buddy, decided to stay at the same hostel as Ali had booked for us, which turned out to be good because the guy who checked us in didn't speak any English and Nathan was able to translate for me. We expected MRM to be there, but she wasn't when I arrived, and for some reason my phone, which should have had over 100 minutes on it, was not making outgoing calls. So Nathan and I set out to find the internet, because I needed to reach MRM and he needed to try to get a bus ride to El Salvador. We tried to reload my phone 4 times, but each time it wouldn't take, even though the minutes were going "somewhere" and I still was charged for them.
Right before we left to find the internet, I realized I needed tampons, too. And I had left a huge sack of them in Xela thinking I didn't need them :( Problem was, I had no idea how to say tampons in Spanish, and the rain was coming down so hard it was painful to walk under, so I leveled with Nathan and explained my situation, and he luckily knew the word in Spanish and was so kind, running with me from tienda to tienda looking for them and translating for me. We finally found them at a 24 hour farmacia a few blocks from the hostel.
We got in touch with MRM and headed to a bar for drinks and food because everyone was kind of having a crap day, what with the volcano eruption and the weather and no one being able to get where they needed to go, and also MRM discovered on Friday that someone with access to her homestay relieved her of $300 bucks. So a drink was in order, even if we did arrive looking like a pack of drowned cats.
On Saturday, we reconvened at Cafe Barista which is a coffee shop on the corner at the Parque Central that MRM and I have nicknamed "Coffee, Coffeemaker." MRM's roommate Robin came, who I was so very happy to see. She is a missionary who was supposed to head to Honduras yesterday, but between Pacaya and Agatha, she isn't going anywhere soon, which has been a really frustrating and anticlimatic end to her three months here. Ali had left the hostel earlier to try to work out her Cuban travel visa, and Nathan had left that morning for El Salvador to try to make it home for his sister's graduation, so it was just me and MRM and Robin and MRM's friend Elisa at Coffee, Coffeemaker.
We ended up waiting for Ali for several hours, but she never showed up. At this point, the streets were beginning to flood in places, and the rain just came and came and came. We had no desire to head out into it again, but were sick of being at Coffee Coffeemaker, so we moved to MRM's homestay to regroup.
Regrouping consisted of laying in bed and watching several episodes of "Band of Brothers" and "The Pacific" while the water kept rising. At certain points the rain was coming down so hard we had to pause the DVD because we could no longer hear the dialogue. The rain also came at a 90 degree angle on several occasions, just plinging straight against the window while the wind, literally, howled outside. And speaking of howling... MRM has a witch who lives next door. We think. There we were, minding our own business, when this shrieking starts that is half Spanish, half something I have never heard. I gave MRM a "what the..." look and she exclaimed, "It's the witch! She does this all the time." So we slipped into our rain jackets and crept out onto the balcony to look over into the mini shantytown next door. I couldn't really see the woman but she kept yelling and cursing in this horrible, creepy way. While on the balcony we discovered that half the shantytown was completely under several feet of water, and some of the habitations, which had been constructed out of cardboard, had been abandoned. Soon, we realized it was because the roof of MRM's homestay was totally flooded, and the spiggot drained right into the shantytown cardboard house's "yard."
Because the roof was flooded, MRM had a leak that was dripping on her bed. So we moved her bed, and soon, two new leaks were dripping onto the bed's newest location. So we took all the electronics and anything that could be ruined by water, and tucked them into the shelf cubbies. Then we began to get really concerned about my stuff back at the hostel, which was stored in a wooden, ground floor locker. We decided to head out to check on my stuff, but not before Robin came in, looking like she had very literally been blown in by the wind. She was soaked and said, "Don't go anywhere! We need to talk! It's a Tropical Storm!" And that is when we learned that this really nasty weather we were living through was in fact a landfalling hurricane, not 24 hours after the volcano eruption. I swear, Guatemala...
We were going to check on my stuff and then go to dinner and a movie, but Elisa texted to let us know that the place we were working our way towards was closed because of the storm, and that stores along the road side were beginning to flood. So we headed straight for my hostel, where I was relieved to find my stuff still dry. But by the time we got there, we were soaked to the bone, despite rain jackets and scarves and umbrellas. Also at the hostel we found Ali, and her friend Thy, who had had a rubbish sort of day with the nasty woman at the travel agency who treated Ali like crap. They were eating canned beans and playing games on Thy's iPod, having given up all hope of heading out again into the weather. Almost as soon as we got there, the power went out in the city, and since we were still really hungry, we figured we had better hoof it out of there and try to find some food before everything was boarded up for the night.
We wandered down the main drag, looking for anything. But in the few minutes that the power had been out, places had shut themselves up. We finally saw some candles flickering in an alcove down an indoor hallway, and were happy to find an open restaurant serving amazing pizza and cold beer. We had a lovely candlelit dinner and before we headed home, the power had come back on, which was a relief because the city was very eery in the pitch black and fierce rain.
So Ali and I made an early night at the hostel, and then were awakened by our new roommate whose snores woke the entire room up. Ali kept asking him to roll over, which he did, and then he immediately began snoring very loudly again. By 2:30am I had decided I either needed to smother him, or find somewhere else to sleep. So I grabbed my pillow and blanket and moved to the couch in the main living area. It turned out to be really cozy, and the rain quickly lulled me to sleep and was loud enough to drown out Mr. Snore. When I awoke at daybreak, thanks to the church bells at La Merced, I noticed another two of our roommates had moved out of the room and into recliners. We complained to the owner who said that the snorer would not be back tonight.
So I was supposed to leave for Xela today at three, but as the news has been coming in, we began to realize how bad "la tormenta" was and Ali and I decided to stay in Antigua for another night, so the crews would have more time to clean the roads of mudslides. Getting to Xela is straight up and straight down on windy mountain roads, and nowhere you want to be if the roads aren't cleared. I had called my tour company to see if they were still running the route, and they said they were, but after I talked it over with the girls, we deciced Ali and I would stay put for another night as the mess gets cleaned up.
The country has really been hammered. Thy's boyfriend, who has been traveling for two days, saw some of the worst of it. He was rerouted to El Salvador, and his bus got across the border bridge shortly before it collapsed. Then, about 1am, their bus went into a ditch, in water that was waist high, and the passengers had to push the bus uphill for a half of a mile to dry the engine out. Once they had done that, the driver decided to remain the night in whatever little pueblo they were stranded in. He said the bus was full of "vegetation" from all the water that had been in it, and sent Thy a text message this morning that described his woes, ending it with, "We're taking the long route. An apparantly crucial bridge has collapsed. The whole country is f'ed." For whatever reason, probably because we're all a little delirious from sleep loss, this struck us as one of the funniest things anyone has ever said, and we laughed until tears were running down our faces.
And so, having weathered the first tropical storm of the season, we kicked off the morning with in-house roasted coffee surrounding a lovely garden at Fernando's. I have since learned that Xela was hit pretty hard as well. My friend Erin said they were stuck inside for two days because the flooding was so bad, and according to the paper today, Zona 2 has been declared "uninhabitable." Luckily, I live in Zona 1 and have talked to my housemother and my family there is safe.
So I will miss class tomorrow and the Monday afternoon movie, which is a disappointment, because we are watching "Che: Part 1" and one cannot get enough of Benicio del Toro.
So, to wrap up: we are all safe. Spent the weekend really cold and wet, wondering if this was the end of the world, but it was still enjoyable. Today has been gorg. We have wandered around and snapped photos and eaten fresh mango and wandered through markets. It was such a wonderful surprise to see the volcanoes again this morning. Usually, they are in sight from anywhere in Antigua, but the rain came down so hard all weekend, that visibility was terrible. It felt like we lived inside a claustrophobic dome.
Ali is wrapping up her Skype, so I will wrap this up as well and let you all know when I have made it safely home to Xela.
It has been quite the weekend. When I found out about the eruption of Pacaya on Friday morning, I feared I wouldn't be able to get into Antigua since the roads from Antigua into Guatemala were bad. But the tour agency assured me they were monitoring the situation and believed it was safe. So at 3pm on Friday, I was picked up and soon learned it was a full shuttle. There were 11 of us, plus the driver, crammed into a small, 4 bench Toyota van. All the other travelers were heading into Antigua in order to try to catch a bus to El Salvador, where the international flights were being diverted since the airport in Guat City was closed due to Pacaya.
I rode next to a very kind guy named Nathan, who had been volunteering in Xela for the past three months. Behind us were a hippie couple, complete with their ukelele, which I feared they would play during the whole trip. The couple in front of me had a laptop and DVDs of "Big Love" and "Entourage." They had Spanish subtitles turned on, so while were were careening through the mountains in the pouring rain, whizzing past tiny pueblos and mountain shacks, I watched HBO programming.
It poured rain the whole trip, and no one wanted their gear on the roof, even if it was tarped up. BUt since the shuttle was full, there was nowhere else for it to go. I had packed light, and had only a daypack with me, so my stuff remained dry in my lap. Yay. The last two members of our group to be picked up were two older women. One of them, a plump lady in her mid 60s, demanded the passenger seat from the guy who was in it. He refused, citing he got carsick and she said that she got sick as well, was a woman, and was older than him, and therefore she deserved the seat more than him. He wouldn't budge and they got into a heated argument in the rain, at the end of which she called him the P word, which made the rest of us crack up. She didn't win the fight, and ended up riding on the middle jump seat of the front row, in between him and the driver.
We rolled into the Tig around 6pm, and the rain was coming down really hard. Nathan, my shuttle buddy, decided to stay at the same hostel as Ali had booked for us, which turned out to be good because the guy who checked us in didn't speak any English and Nathan was able to translate for me. We expected MRM to be there, but she wasn't when I arrived, and for some reason my phone, which should have had over 100 minutes on it, was not making outgoing calls. So Nathan and I set out to find the internet, because I needed to reach MRM and he needed to try to get a bus ride to El Salvador. We tried to reload my phone 4 times, but each time it wouldn't take, even though the minutes were going "somewhere" and I still was charged for them.
Right before we left to find the internet, I realized I needed tampons, too. And I had left a huge sack of them in Xela thinking I didn't need them :( Problem was, I had no idea how to say tampons in Spanish, and the rain was coming down so hard it was painful to walk under, so I leveled with Nathan and explained my situation, and he luckily knew the word in Spanish and was so kind, running with me from tienda to tienda looking for them and translating for me. We finally found them at a 24 hour farmacia a few blocks from the hostel.
We got in touch with MRM and headed to a bar for drinks and food because everyone was kind of having a crap day, what with the volcano eruption and the weather and no one being able to get where they needed to go, and also MRM discovered on Friday that someone with access to her homestay relieved her of $300 bucks. So a drink was in order, even if we did arrive looking like a pack of drowned cats.
On Saturday, we reconvened at Cafe Barista which is a coffee shop on the corner at the Parque Central that MRM and I have nicknamed "Coffee, Coffeemaker." MRM's roommate Robin came, who I was so very happy to see. She is a missionary who was supposed to head to Honduras yesterday, but between Pacaya and Agatha, she isn't going anywhere soon, which has been a really frustrating and anticlimatic end to her three months here. Ali had left the hostel earlier to try to work out her Cuban travel visa, and Nathan had left that morning for El Salvador to try to make it home for his sister's graduation, so it was just me and MRM and Robin and MRM's friend Elisa at Coffee, Coffeemaker.
We ended up waiting for Ali for several hours, but she never showed up. At this point, the streets were beginning to flood in places, and the rain just came and came and came. We had no desire to head out into it again, but were sick of being at Coffee Coffeemaker, so we moved to MRM's homestay to regroup.
Regrouping consisted of laying in bed and watching several episodes of "Band of Brothers" and "The Pacific" while the water kept rising. At certain points the rain was coming down so hard we had to pause the DVD because we could no longer hear the dialogue. The rain also came at a 90 degree angle on several occasions, just plinging straight against the window while the wind, literally, howled outside. And speaking of howling... MRM has a witch who lives next door. We think. There we were, minding our own business, when this shrieking starts that is half Spanish, half something I have never heard. I gave MRM a "what the..." look and she exclaimed, "It's the witch! She does this all the time." So we slipped into our rain jackets and crept out onto the balcony to look over into the mini shantytown next door. I couldn't really see the woman but she kept yelling and cursing in this horrible, creepy way. While on the balcony we discovered that half the shantytown was completely under several feet of water, and some of the habitations, which had been constructed out of cardboard, had been abandoned. Soon, we realized it was because the roof of MRM's homestay was totally flooded, and the spiggot drained right into the shantytown cardboard house's "yard."
Because the roof was flooded, MRM had a leak that was dripping on her bed. So we moved her bed, and soon, two new leaks were dripping onto the bed's newest location. So we took all the electronics and anything that could be ruined by water, and tucked them into the shelf cubbies. Then we began to get really concerned about my stuff back at the hostel, which was stored in a wooden, ground floor locker. We decided to head out to check on my stuff, but not before Robin came in, looking like she had very literally been blown in by the wind. She was soaked and said, "Don't go anywhere! We need to talk! It's a Tropical Storm!" And that is when we learned that this really nasty weather we were living through was in fact a landfalling hurricane, not 24 hours after the volcano eruption. I swear, Guatemala...
We were going to check on my stuff and then go to dinner and a movie, but Elisa texted to let us know that the place we were working our way towards was closed because of the storm, and that stores along the road side were beginning to flood. So we headed straight for my hostel, where I was relieved to find my stuff still dry. But by the time we got there, we were soaked to the bone, despite rain jackets and scarves and umbrellas. Also at the hostel we found Ali, and her friend Thy, who had had a rubbish sort of day with the nasty woman at the travel agency who treated Ali like crap. They were eating canned beans and playing games on Thy's iPod, having given up all hope of heading out again into the weather. Almost as soon as we got there, the power went out in the city, and since we were still really hungry, we figured we had better hoof it out of there and try to find some food before everything was boarded up for the night.
We wandered down the main drag, looking for anything. But in the few minutes that the power had been out, places had shut themselves up. We finally saw some candles flickering in an alcove down an indoor hallway, and were happy to find an open restaurant serving amazing pizza and cold beer. We had a lovely candlelit dinner and before we headed home, the power had come back on, which was a relief because the city was very eery in the pitch black and fierce rain.
So Ali and I made an early night at the hostel, and then were awakened by our new roommate whose snores woke the entire room up. Ali kept asking him to roll over, which he did, and then he immediately began snoring very loudly again. By 2:30am I had decided I either needed to smother him, or find somewhere else to sleep. So I grabbed my pillow and blanket and moved to the couch in the main living area. It turned out to be really cozy, and the rain quickly lulled me to sleep and was loud enough to drown out Mr. Snore. When I awoke at daybreak, thanks to the church bells at La Merced, I noticed another two of our roommates had moved out of the room and into recliners. We complained to the owner who said that the snorer would not be back tonight.
So I was supposed to leave for Xela today at three, but as the news has been coming in, we began to realize how bad "la tormenta" was and Ali and I decided to stay in Antigua for another night, so the crews would have more time to clean the roads of mudslides. Getting to Xela is straight up and straight down on windy mountain roads, and nowhere you want to be if the roads aren't cleared. I had called my tour company to see if they were still running the route, and they said they were, but after I talked it over with the girls, we deciced Ali and I would stay put for another night as the mess gets cleaned up.
The country has really been hammered. Thy's boyfriend, who has been traveling for two days, saw some of the worst of it. He was rerouted to El Salvador, and his bus got across the border bridge shortly before it collapsed. Then, about 1am, their bus went into a ditch, in water that was waist high, and the passengers had to push the bus uphill for a half of a mile to dry the engine out. Once they had done that, the driver decided to remain the night in whatever little pueblo they were stranded in. He said the bus was full of "vegetation" from all the water that had been in it, and sent Thy a text message this morning that described his woes, ending it with, "We're taking the long route. An apparantly crucial bridge has collapsed. The whole country is f'ed." For whatever reason, probably because we're all a little delirious from sleep loss, this struck us as one of the funniest things anyone has ever said, and we laughed until tears were running down our faces.
And so, having weathered the first tropical storm of the season, we kicked off the morning with in-house roasted coffee surrounding a lovely garden at Fernando's. I have since learned that Xela was hit pretty hard as well. My friend Erin said they were stuck inside for two days because the flooding was so bad, and according to the paper today, Zona 2 has been declared "uninhabitable." Luckily, I live in Zona 1 and have talked to my housemother and my family there is safe.
So I will miss class tomorrow and the Monday afternoon movie, which is a disappointment, because we are watching "Che: Part 1" and one cannot get enough of Benicio del Toro.
So, to wrap up: we are all safe. Spent the weekend really cold and wet, wondering if this was the end of the world, but it was still enjoyable. Today has been gorg. We have wandered around and snapped photos and eaten fresh mango and wandered through markets. It was such a wonderful surprise to see the volcanoes again this morning. Usually, they are in sight from anywhere in Antigua, but the rain came down so hard all weekend, that visibility was terrible. It felt like we lived inside a claustrophobic dome.
Ali is wrapping up her Skype, so I will wrap this up as well and let you all know when I have made it safely home to Xela.
Agatha
All, I am still safe in Antigua, finally drying off. We got hit with Tropical Storm Agatha all weekend long, and today is the first it hasn't been raining in 72 hours. I don't know if I will be able to get home to Xela today or not, as roads are pretty flooded still.
We are supposed to get hit with a hurricane this afternoon, but Antigua is so far inland that we expect at most more rain. But I am safe, MRM is safe and Ali is safe, and we are meeting in a few for chocolate crepes and to see if we can find out what the road situation is like in order to get out of Antigua.
Happy Sunday to you all! More to follow later on our most recent adventures. XOXO
We are supposed to get hit with a hurricane this afternoon, but Antigua is so far inland that we expect at most more rain. But I am safe, MRM is safe and Ali is safe, and we are meeting in a few for chocolate crepes and to see if we can find out what the road situation is like in order to get out of Antigua.
Happy Sunday to you all! More to follow later on our most recent adventures. XOXO
Friday, May 28, 2010
Pacaya
Update dos: Made it safely to the Tig. Waiting to reach MRM, as my 15 buck phone has chosen not to work. Checked into hostel, which Ali picked out, which is swanky swanky swanky as far as hostels go, now the search for food begins.
Update: MRM is safe, too! She felt the eruption, thought it was an earthquake. But Antigua seems to have survived. Although the weather I am escaping, near constant rain, is the same weather I am headed into, thanks to Pacaya. Better than black snow, though. One of my goals for this weekend is to get what few pictures I have uploaded. We shall see.
Ciao, chicas y chicos!
MRM and Ali and I were planning on climbing Pacaya tomorrow, but it erupted last night and the international airport is closed because debris and ash are still falling from the sky. So, there goes the weekend. But we are safe in Xela and I am assuming MRM is hanging tight in Antigua as well. Waiting to hear from her. Will let you all know when I arrive in Antigua.
Update: MRM is safe, too! She felt the eruption, thought it was an earthquake. But Antigua seems to have survived. Although the weather I am escaping, near constant rain, is the same weather I am headed into, thanks to Pacaya. Better than black snow, though. One of my goals for this weekend is to get what few pictures I have uploaded. We shall see.
Ciao, chicas y chicos!
MRM and Ali and I were planning on climbing Pacaya tomorrow, but it erupted last night and the international airport is closed because debris and ash are still falling from the sky. So, there goes the weekend. But we are safe in Xela and I am assuming MRM is hanging tight in Antigua as well. Waiting to hear from her. Will let you all know when I arrive in Antigua.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Un otra quickie
Loved ones!
I haven't seen anyone get abducted today, which means it is a great day in Xela!
The good news is I have been continuing to feel better. Much better. Not 100%, but not miserable any longer. I have not eaten a single meal at home since Sunday breakfast, and that has become unexpectedly expensive and difficult to navigate. Hospitality is such a huge part of the culture here, and even though my family knows how sick I have been, they keep plying me with food. Last night I finally had the courage to say, "I think there is bacteria in the water and it makes me sick." And my house mother was like, "of course there is, you're in Guatemala after all." I had planned on trying to start eating there again once the Cipro was finished, but have been strongly advised against that by some folks with a lot more experience traveling here that me.
So, for now I am making breakfast at school, eating a PB sandwich at home for lunch and eating dinner out every night.
But something really fabulous happened two nights ago. I came home after dinner and was sitting on the bed with A., watching the Spanish Cartoon Network, and for about the first 15 seconds of the cartoon I thought they were talking in English because I was automatically translating it in my head. And then I thought, " I AM UNDERSTANDING THEM WITH NO PROBLEM!" And as soon as I had that thought, I stopped being able to understand it. Sad. But, it was a small victory nonetheless.
Tomorrow I head to Antigua for a little R&R and strategery with MRM. I have lots I want to share with you all about what I have been thinking about doing, about my wonderful teacher this week, and little anecdotes from my time here, but all that will have to wait because I have a dinner tonight at the school and I am already late.
So for now, ciao.
I haven't seen anyone get abducted today, which means it is a great day in Xela!
The good news is I have been continuing to feel better. Much better. Not 100%, but not miserable any longer. I have not eaten a single meal at home since Sunday breakfast, and that has become unexpectedly expensive and difficult to navigate. Hospitality is such a huge part of the culture here, and even though my family knows how sick I have been, they keep plying me with food. Last night I finally had the courage to say, "I think there is bacteria in the water and it makes me sick." And my house mother was like, "of course there is, you're in Guatemala after all." I had planned on trying to start eating there again once the Cipro was finished, but have been strongly advised against that by some folks with a lot more experience traveling here that me.
So, for now I am making breakfast at school, eating a PB sandwich at home for lunch and eating dinner out every night.
But something really fabulous happened two nights ago. I came home after dinner and was sitting on the bed with A., watching the Spanish Cartoon Network, and for about the first 15 seconds of the cartoon I thought they were talking in English because I was automatically translating it in my head. And then I thought, " I AM UNDERSTANDING THEM WITH NO PROBLEM!" And as soon as I had that thought, I stopped being able to understand it. Sad. But, it was a small victory nonetheless.
Tomorrow I head to Antigua for a little R&R and strategery with MRM. I have lots I want to share with you all about what I have been thinking about doing, about my wonderful teacher this week, and little anecdotes from my time here, but all that will have to wait because I have a dinner tonight at the school and I am already late.
So for now, ciao.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Xela: 1, Rach: 0
Sorry for the pause. Saturday was a long day for me, and there are certain things that mothers need to hear first, and I did not talk to mine until last night. But how wonderful it was! I broke down and bought a cell phone yesterday because I wanted to talk to my mama and not in a busy internet cafe over Skype.
So, Saturday. I woke up feeling rested, for the first time. And had an egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast that did not make me feel ill. I thought I was coming to the end of the nausea and vomiting and diarrhea. Most of Saturday my friend Erin and I laid about in cafes reading, and then that afternoon I headed to the Black Cat Hostel to meet my friend Ali who was in town for the night on her way back from the mountains and on her way to the lake. She needed to take care of some things, book shuttle tickets and get some books, and it was nice to be able to navigate to all the places we needed to get to. I was thinking to myself, "I know this place, I like this place, I feel safe here, etc." On our way up a hill to a bookstore called North and South, an old man got our attention and undid his trousers and waved his lumpy penis at us. I wish I were here telling you that was the most exciting thing to happen on Saturday.
On our way back towards the Parque Central, we ran into two classmates of Ali's whose names fail me now. We were chatting with them about what to do that evening when a commotion behind us caught our attention. We looked up to notice a black, tinted window Land Rover parked in the middle of the one way street. And a man, kicking and flailing, being carried by five other men, who were hurrying to get him into the car. Another man was running a little ahead of them, and had the door open and was yelling at them to hurry. They threw him in the back, climbed in, and before all the doors were shut, the driver squealed the tires and they were off. I was totally dumbstruck. I was a sheep. I couldn't form words in my head, or think of what to do next, so I followed the other girls into a shop two doors down. One of the others, a cooler customer than me, had gotten the license number, and a few minutes later the police drove by. Ali's classmates flagged them down, explained what happened and they asked us to come in for a statement, which we declined. She handed the license number to the policewoman and we headed to the Parque for a drink. I was totally freaking out at this point, thinking, "I'm not safe here, the whole town has seen me involve the police in what we saw, I need to cut and dye my hair and transfer cities."
A gin and tonic helped a bit, but I still felt sickened to my core over what we'd seen. I tried to think of all the reasons people abduct other people. Maybe it was a bachelor party or a hazing or the dude had knocked up someone's sister. When I voiced this to the table, the looks they gave me said, "You know that's not what that was." Still, I have no idea what it was. I don't know if the abductors are the bad guys or the abductee is. I'll never know.
What I do know is that it totally ruined all the good feelings I had towards Xela. Suddenly the town felt sinister and dirty and corrupt, and prior to this, I had never felt threatened here, not a single time. After our drink, we split up. Ali and I went for dinner, where there was a roach crawling on my delicious salad, which I continued to eat, because I didn't have the energy not to. We ended up getting stuck at the restaurant because it was raining and storming so bad that there was 4 inches of water on the streets surrounding us. Ali said, "have you ever seen rain like this?!" Yes, in Nashville, a few weeks ago.
After dinner we met back up with her friends and then wandered around trying to find a bar that everyone wanted to go to, but 3 of us wanted to go to a club, which is not my scene in any country, and Ali and I eventually headed back the parque's Salon Tecun, where we found a cozy upstairs table in a room playing Michael Jackson.
Saturday night was the worst night I've spent here. I took a cab home and so many of the streets were flooded, that we kept getting trapped and having to turn around, which felt unsafe to me. I was really skittish, and any dark SUV or rapidly accelerating car made my heart race. When I got home, my family was asleep. I got in bed, feeling lonelier than I have ever felt in my life. No cell phone, no computer, no way to reach anyone I love, and no way to communicate effectively with anyone near me. I was so freaked out, convinced that every car that drove down our street was full of people who were coming to get me. I don't know how long I laid there, stiffening in bed at every nocturnal sound.
But things are always always always better in the daylight. I went upstairs the next morning to talk to Erin, and was able to get to a cafe to email MRM and seek her advice. We got back out into the city and I realized all over again that it's not a terrible horrible no good very bad place.
Yesterday I made a point to go back out alone and learn a new route to zone 3. I found my bank, found a Chinese buffet, found a phone, and was able to reach my sweet mom. I still am not in love with this place, but I am no longer feeling like I have to flee. I'm still sick, though. Last night's dinner was soft boiled plantains and the juice that they were boiled in. My father would have never been able to stomach it. I was barely able to. When I got to the table, I assumed the plantains were an appetizer, since there were 6 pieces on my plate and 1 on everyone else's. I doled them out so we each had 2, and that turned out to be dinner. We had a pleasant conversation, and afterward, I got really sick and threw up a little and then was up a lot of the night with crippling stomach cramps and my old friend, diarrhea.
Mom and I made the decision that I would continue taking the Cipro, and would buy my own food from now on. I have no control over how they prepare food here, which seems to involve lots of water with lots of e. coli in it. Today some students and I took a quick trip up to the bakeshop where I got yogurt, granola, bread and peanut butter. I'm gonna see what I feel like eating that, and I've stopped brushing my teeth with the tap water.
Right now there is a decision to be made about continuing in Xela or going back and enrolling in a school in Antigua. The big pro with Xela is the absolutely gorgeous weather. If I am going to be sick regardless, I'd rather be sick in cool weather instead of Antigua's suffocating heat. Also, Antigua is more money than Xela, and I'm budgeted for Xela. Also, I adore my family, but I don't adore not being able to eat the food they serve. For lunch today they had pasta with spinach and tomato and it looked so delicious, but I stuck with my peanut butter. The pros of Antigua would be spending the summer with my best bud, MRM, and being a little closer to places we want to travel to.
Before I got here, I had this picture in my mind of how the summer would go. I would spend the mornings studying Spanish in a lovely tropical garden, drinking fresh squeezed orange juice, and making life long friends. In the afternoons, I would walk down quaint cobblestone streets to the clinic, where I would do patient assessments and get to know the people of this city. Evenings would be long, lovely dinners with my family, and then I would collapse into bed exhausted.
At this point, all other things being equal, I'd like to experience Xela without feeling so bad before I make any decisions. I have no idea how I'd feel about this place if when I ate something, I didn't feel awful. Also, there is the giving up factor which is haunting me. The thought of being the pale white girl who got sick on the food that everyone else is eating and had to leave is so humbling. I loathe feeling like a failure. But, how sick I've felt is no fun either.
I am going to Antigua this weekend. MRM was going to come here for her birthday, but Ali will be in Antigua and I felt like I wanted a little change of scenery. So hopefully the MRMs and I will have some time to sit down, perhaps over some of those scrumptious chocolate crepes, and reason through this. Would certainly appreciate your prayers that I am able to make a sane decision, and not be swayed by illness or the despair that I have felt as a result of the illness.
So, Saturday. I woke up feeling rested, for the first time. And had an egg and cheese sandwich for breakfast that did not make me feel ill. I thought I was coming to the end of the nausea and vomiting and diarrhea. Most of Saturday my friend Erin and I laid about in cafes reading, and then that afternoon I headed to the Black Cat Hostel to meet my friend Ali who was in town for the night on her way back from the mountains and on her way to the lake. She needed to take care of some things, book shuttle tickets and get some books, and it was nice to be able to navigate to all the places we needed to get to. I was thinking to myself, "I know this place, I like this place, I feel safe here, etc." On our way up a hill to a bookstore called North and South, an old man got our attention and undid his trousers and waved his lumpy penis at us. I wish I were here telling you that was the most exciting thing to happen on Saturday.
On our way back towards the Parque Central, we ran into two classmates of Ali's whose names fail me now. We were chatting with them about what to do that evening when a commotion behind us caught our attention. We looked up to notice a black, tinted window Land Rover parked in the middle of the one way street. And a man, kicking and flailing, being carried by five other men, who were hurrying to get him into the car. Another man was running a little ahead of them, and had the door open and was yelling at them to hurry. They threw him in the back, climbed in, and before all the doors were shut, the driver squealed the tires and they were off. I was totally dumbstruck. I was a sheep. I couldn't form words in my head, or think of what to do next, so I followed the other girls into a shop two doors down. One of the others, a cooler customer than me, had gotten the license number, and a few minutes later the police drove by. Ali's classmates flagged them down, explained what happened and they asked us to come in for a statement, which we declined. She handed the license number to the policewoman and we headed to the Parque for a drink. I was totally freaking out at this point, thinking, "I'm not safe here, the whole town has seen me involve the police in what we saw, I need to cut and dye my hair and transfer cities."
A gin and tonic helped a bit, but I still felt sickened to my core over what we'd seen. I tried to think of all the reasons people abduct other people. Maybe it was a bachelor party or a hazing or the dude had knocked up someone's sister. When I voiced this to the table, the looks they gave me said, "You know that's not what that was." Still, I have no idea what it was. I don't know if the abductors are the bad guys or the abductee is. I'll never know.
What I do know is that it totally ruined all the good feelings I had towards Xela. Suddenly the town felt sinister and dirty and corrupt, and prior to this, I had never felt threatened here, not a single time. After our drink, we split up. Ali and I went for dinner, where there was a roach crawling on my delicious salad, which I continued to eat, because I didn't have the energy not to. We ended up getting stuck at the restaurant because it was raining and storming so bad that there was 4 inches of water on the streets surrounding us. Ali said, "have you ever seen rain like this?!" Yes, in Nashville, a few weeks ago.
After dinner we met back up with her friends and then wandered around trying to find a bar that everyone wanted to go to, but 3 of us wanted to go to a club, which is not my scene in any country, and Ali and I eventually headed back the parque's Salon Tecun, where we found a cozy upstairs table in a room playing Michael Jackson.
Saturday night was the worst night I've spent here. I took a cab home and so many of the streets were flooded, that we kept getting trapped and having to turn around, which felt unsafe to me. I was really skittish, and any dark SUV or rapidly accelerating car made my heart race. When I got home, my family was asleep. I got in bed, feeling lonelier than I have ever felt in my life. No cell phone, no computer, no way to reach anyone I love, and no way to communicate effectively with anyone near me. I was so freaked out, convinced that every car that drove down our street was full of people who were coming to get me. I don't know how long I laid there, stiffening in bed at every nocturnal sound.
But things are always always always better in the daylight. I went upstairs the next morning to talk to Erin, and was able to get to a cafe to email MRM and seek her advice. We got back out into the city and I realized all over again that it's not a terrible horrible no good very bad place.
Yesterday I made a point to go back out alone and learn a new route to zone 3. I found my bank, found a Chinese buffet, found a phone, and was able to reach my sweet mom. I still am not in love with this place, but I am no longer feeling like I have to flee. I'm still sick, though. Last night's dinner was soft boiled plantains and the juice that they were boiled in. My father would have never been able to stomach it. I was barely able to. When I got to the table, I assumed the plantains were an appetizer, since there were 6 pieces on my plate and 1 on everyone else's. I doled them out so we each had 2, and that turned out to be dinner. We had a pleasant conversation, and afterward, I got really sick and threw up a little and then was up a lot of the night with crippling stomach cramps and my old friend, diarrhea.
Mom and I made the decision that I would continue taking the Cipro, and would buy my own food from now on. I have no control over how they prepare food here, which seems to involve lots of water with lots of e. coli in it. Today some students and I took a quick trip up to the bakeshop where I got yogurt, granola, bread and peanut butter. I'm gonna see what I feel like eating that, and I've stopped brushing my teeth with the tap water.
Right now there is a decision to be made about continuing in Xela or going back and enrolling in a school in Antigua. The big pro with Xela is the absolutely gorgeous weather. If I am going to be sick regardless, I'd rather be sick in cool weather instead of Antigua's suffocating heat. Also, Antigua is more money than Xela, and I'm budgeted for Xela. Also, I adore my family, but I don't adore not being able to eat the food they serve. For lunch today they had pasta with spinach and tomato and it looked so delicious, but I stuck with my peanut butter. The pros of Antigua would be spending the summer with my best bud, MRM, and being a little closer to places we want to travel to.
Before I got here, I had this picture in my mind of how the summer would go. I would spend the mornings studying Spanish in a lovely tropical garden, drinking fresh squeezed orange juice, and making life long friends. In the afternoons, I would walk down quaint cobblestone streets to the clinic, where I would do patient assessments and get to know the people of this city. Evenings would be long, lovely dinners with my family, and then I would collapse into bed exhausted.
At this point, all other things being equal, I'd like to experience Xela without feeling so bad before I make any decisions. I have no idea how I'd feel about this place if when I ate something, I didn't feel awful. Also, there is the giving up factor which is haunting me. The thought of being the pale white girl who got sick on the food that everyone else is eating and had to leave is so humbling. I loathe feeling like a failure. But, how sick I've felt is no fun either.
I am going to Antigua this weekend. MRM was going to come here for her birthday, but Ali will be in Antigua and I felt like I wanted a little change of scenery. So hopefully the MRMs and I will have some time to sit down, perhaps over some of those scrumptious chocolate crepes, and reason through this. Would certainly appreciate your prayers that I am able to make a sane decision, and not be swayed by illness or the despair that I have felt as a result of the illness.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
They Might as Well Have Saved the Extra Bedroom and Made Me a Pallet in the Bathroom
Greetings! Writing to you from an internet cafe and bookstore down the street from my school, where I just ate the first meal that has not made me feel very very ill. Hooray!
To catch you all up: not to give TMI, but here are the facts, have had diarrhea for a week. I expected it to happen at some point, and it was not terribly uncomfortable, and I was still able to eat the food that was served to me and enjoy life, so I stayed hydrated and went about my day. However, 3 days ago I began feeling very ill. First, the allergies. I still have not pin pointed what I am allergic to. My house? My school? The car exhaust? The whole city after it rains? Thursday during school was the worst day for allergies. I woke up and sounded like I had emphysema and it went down hill from there. My eyes were so swollen that it hurt to keep them open. My nose ran and ran and ran and ran. I used up two entire packages of tissues before class was even over, when prior to this, I have never used up a single pack of tissues in my whole life. I sneezed constantly, and the inside of my head was so itchy I wanted to take steel wool to it. Poor Helen tried to accomodate me by moving to the patio for lessons, but even outside it was still really bad. On the way home from school, I stopped at the farmacia for an antihistamine, but I am deathly allergic to the main ingredient in stuff like Clariten and Alavert. So I can only take Benadryl, but there is no such thing as Benadryl here, it is called something else or simply sold by single ingredient. So I had the pleasure of trying to say, "I need some allergy medicine, but also, I am allergic to allergy medicine." I finally bought something called Panadol, manufactured by gsk. I told Erin that if I took it, and my airway started swelling, I needed to be rushed to the hospital and given epinephrine. Thankfully, that did not happen.
So, Thursday at lunch I just felt very nauseous and it was all I could do to eat the food, which was broth with rice in it and a side of boiled carrot, potato and corn. As the day wore on, I felt sicker and sicker. Erin and I went out for a bit to wander around the city and get her a cellphone, and we had pizza and cokes for dinner. It was good, but I remained nauseous. Around 2am I woke up thinking, "I need to throw up. But that is impossible, because I have diarrhea, and it is not fair to have both at the same time." So, went to the bathroom and soon enough was violently throwing up. For some reason, I guess the toilet bowls here are shallower or something, but it kept splashing back up on my face, which was revolting. So there I was, 2am in Central America, covered in my own vomit, with no toilet paper in the bathroom. I rinsed off my face and got my flashlight and searched the house for toilet paper, but there was none to be found. So I took the napkins in with me and got sick again. Once I was done throwing up, I felt a lot better and that lasted for 15 glorious minutes and then I was feeling terrible again. And speaking of no toilet paper, this is a mistake I made once, thought I would never make again, and then keep on making. 3 or 4 times now I have used the bathroom without first checking that there is paper on hand.
I got back in bed, having decided not to go to school in the morning. And then, 30 minutes before class, I felt guilty for standing Helen up, so stumbled to the shower and then to school. I was rocking in my chair all morning, I felt so bad. Helen decided to postpone my exam until Monday. Halfway through class another student, Eli, asked if we wanted to walk to the Mennonite bakery, but I felt too bad. I asked him to get me a blueberry yogurt, which I was able to keep down. I spent the rest of the day feeling like I could vomit at any minute, and was more thankful than you can imagine to find Gatorade at the tienda. Last night, Erin and I decided to go to a movie, but both felt so bad that we never made it. We got as far as the Parque Central, went to McDonalds, went to the store, went home. The whole time I was out, I kept silently praying "Please let me get home before I need to throw up again." When we got back home, I threw up a tiny bit, and then fell asleep with my clothes on and the light on. But I slept for 12 hours and woke up today feeling like I did not want to die. When I feel that nauseous I have absolutely no perspective. I tell myself things like, "You are not cut out for traveling." "You need to become a nurse, buy a little house, and never leave Nashville again." I had decided that it was stupid to learn Spanish anyway. No one cares if I am bilingual or not, everyone speaks English anyway. But today, sans nausea, am feeling like perhaps I should stay and slog through this thing til August.
The nice thing about being sick is that I have not been eating much and nothing at home, so I have not had to worry about being served more food than anyone else. I sat with my family at lunch today, and while what they were eating (cheese fritters and salsa) was not appetizing, the smell of it did not turn my stomach, which is an improvement.
So, enough about icky icky illness. I mentioned that I purchase El Principito the other day, and I sat in the park and read the first chapter (that is when the bird pooped on my head). When I went home that night, A., who has all but moved into my bed, read more of it to me and then read Caperucita Roja (I think I spelled that correctly, Little Red Riding Hood) and Bambi to me. If you keep giving her more books, she will read and read and read. It is nice because when I get out of school, I am so fried that all I want is to sleep and all A. wants is to hang out, so we get books and get in bed and I nap and she reads aloud.
The key for me here is to keep moving. If I stay at home too long or at school too long or even at the same coffee shop too long, I get a little blue. One of the reasons I chose nursing is for the variety. I never want to live the same day twice. As long as I keep moving around and seeing and learning new things (provided I feel well enough to do so) I remain in good spirits. The big activity for today was going to a matinee of Robin Hood, but the movies do not start until 4ish and my friend Ali gets in town at 3, so will save that for another day. Rather, am going to try to find my way to the super mercado in Zone 3. I live in Zone 1 and have been to two non super mercados, just regular mercados, looking for Kleenex and peanut butter and have not found either.
The other night at dinner, A.s father asked me to translate a text message he had received. The text read: "Whether side by side, or miles apart, you will always have a place in my heart." It was followed with: "Send to 15 people you love." But before I had read that far, I stopped, and panicked, thinking, "Does he have a girlfriend?! Am I supposed to translate this in front of A.s mom who may or may not be his wife?!" I still do not know what their relationship is. K. has referred to him as A.s father and also as her spouse, but he does not live there full time and neither of them wears a wedding band. Anyway, I am terrible at translating, and it was thankfully a mass text, so no harm done, but I was so worried for those few minutes.
Speaking of A.s father, he left three days ago and he took the rooster with him. Took the hens, too. I rejoiced when I learned of this, but according to A. he is coming back with them soon. I have NO idea what kind of errand you take with 3 live chickens that does not involve killing them, but we will soon find out. Speaking of killing things, I did a little research and learned that digitalis is fatal to dogs in doses of 6g or higher. But I do not think I have the heart for it, even if it is to put them out of their misery.
Found out yesterday that two friends from Nashville as well as my bestie, Nat, will be traveling to Antigua the first week of July. The plan is forthem to find a beach on either the east or west coast and I will meet them there. Am really looking forward to seeing them, as well as black sand beaches!
Even though I felt like death yesterday, it was the best class so far. I started crying in class on Thursday, because I was so frustrated, but yesterday seemed really fluid. Little by little, I am able to communicate better with my family. I still completely mash words together and abuse the tenses horribly, but we understand one another a little better each day.
Okie dokie, artichokies, be well. Talk soon.
To catch you all up: not to give TMI, but here are the facts, have had diarrhea for a week. I expected it to happen at some point, and it was not terribly uncomfortable, and I was still able to eat the food that was served to me and enjoy life, so I stayed hydrated and went about my day. However, 3 days ago I began feeling very ill. First, the allergies. I still have not pin pointed what I am allergic to. My house? My school? The car exhaust? The whole city after it rains? Thursday during school was the worst day for allergies. I woke up and sounded like I had emphysema and it went down hill from there. My eyes were so swollen that it hurt to keep them open. My nose ran and ran and ran and ran. I used up two entire packages of tissues before class was even over, when prior to this, I have never used up a single pack of tissues in my whole life. I sneezed constantly, and the inside of my head was so itchy I wanted to take steel wool to it. Poor Helen tried to accomodate me by moving to the patio for lessons, but even outside it was still really bad. On the way home from school, I stopped at the farmacia for an antihistamine, but I am deathly allergic to the main ingredient in stuff like Clariten and Alavert. So I can only take Benadryl, but there is no such thing as Benadryl here, it is called something else or simply sold by single ingredient. So I had the pleasure of trying to say, "I need some allergy medicine, but also, I am allergic to allergy medicine." I finally bought something called Panadol, manufactured by gsk. I told Erin that if I took it, and my airway started swelling, I needed to be rushed to the hospital and given epinephrine. Thankfully, that did not happen.
So, Thursday at lunch I just felt very nauseous and it was all I could do to eat the food, which was broth with rice in it and a side of boiled carrot, potato and corn. As the day wore on, I felt sicker and sicker. Erin and I went out for a bit to wander around the city and get her a cellphone, and we had pizza and cokes for dinner. It was good, but I remained nauseous. Around 2am I woke up thinking, "I need to throw up. But that is impossible, because I have diarrhea, and it is not fair to have both at the same time." So, went to the bathroom and soon enough was violently throwing up. For some reason, I guess the toilet bowls here are shallower or something, but it kept splashing back up on my face, which was revolting. So there I was, 2am in Central America, covered in my own vomit, with no toilet paper in the bathroom. I rinsed off my face and got my flashlight and searched the house for toilet paper, but there was none to be found. So I took the napkins in with me and got sick again. Once I was done throwing up, I felt a lot better and that lasted for 15 glorious minutes and then I was feeling terrible again. And speaking of no toilet paper, this is a mistake I made once, thought I would never make again, and then keep on making. 3 or 4 times now I have used the bathroom without first checking that there is paper on hand.
I got back in bed, having decided not to go to school in the morning. And then, 30 minutes before class, I felt guilty for standing Helen up, so stumbled to the shower and then to school. I was rocking in my chair all morning, I felt so bad. Helen decided to postpone my exam until Monday. Halfway through class another student, Eli, asked if we wanted to walk to the Mennonite bakery, but I felt too bad. I asked him to get me a blueberry yogurt, which I was able to keep down. I spent the rest of the day feeling like I could vomit at any minute, and was more thankful than you can imagine to find Gatorade at the tienda. Last night, Erin and I decided to go to a movie, but both felt so bad that we never made it. We got as far as the Parque Central, went to McDonalds, went to the store, went home. The whole time I was out, I kept silently praying "Please let me get home before I need to throw up again." When we got back home, I threw up a tiny bit, and then fell asleep with my clothes on and the light on. But I slept for 12 hours and woke up today feeling like I did not want to die. When I feel that nauseous I have absolutely no perspective. I tell myself things like, "You are not cut out for traveling." "You need to become a nurse, buy a little house, and never leave Nashville again." I had decided that it was stupid to learn Spanish anyway. No one cares if I am bilingual or not, everyone speaks English anyway. But today, sans nausea, am feeling like perhaps I should stay and slog through this thing til August.
The nice thing about being sick is that I have not been eating much and nothing at home, so I have not had to worry about being served more food than anyone else. I sat with my family at lunch today, and while what they were eating (cheese fritters and salsa) was not appetizing, the smell of it did not turn my stomach, which is an improvement.
So, enough about icky icky illness. I mentioned that I purchase El Principito the other day, and I sat in the park and read the first chapter (that is when the bird pooped on my head). When I went home that night, A., who has all but moved into my bed, read more of it to me and then read Caperucita Roja (I think I spelled that correctly, Little Red Riding Hood) and Bambi to me. If you keep giving her more books, she will read and read and read. It is nice because when I get out of school, I am so fried that all I want is to sleep and all A. wants is to hang out, so we get books and get in bed and I nap and she reads aloud.
The key for me here is to keep moving. If I stay at home too long or at school too long or even at the same coffee shop too long, I get a little blue. One of the reasons I chose nursing is for the variety. I never want to live the same day twice. As long as I keep moving around and seeing and learning new things (provided I feel well enough to do so) I remain in good spirits. The big activity for today was going to a matinee of Robin Hood, but the movies do not start until 4ish and my friend Ali gets in town at 3, so will save that for another day. Rather, am going to try to find my way to the super mercado in Zone 3. I live in Zone 1 and have been to two non super mercados, just regular mercados, looking for Kleenex and peanut butter and have not found either.
The other night at dinner, A.s father asked me to translate a text message he had received. The text read: "Whether side by side, or miles apart, you will always have a place in my heart." It was followed with: "Send to 15 people you love." But before I had read that far, I stopped, and panicked, thinking, "Does he have a girlfriend?! Am I supposed to translate this in front of A.s mom who may or may not be his wife?!" I still do not know what their relationship is. K. has referred to him as A.s father and also as her spouse, but he does not live there full time and neither of them wears a wedding band. Anyway, I am terrible at translating, and it was thankfully a mass text, so no harm done, but I was so worried for those few minutes.
Speaking of A.s father, he left three days ago and he took the rooster with him. Took the hens, too. I rejoiced when I learned of this, but according to A. he is coming back with them soon. I have NO idea what kind of errand you take with 3 live chickens that does not involve killing them, but we will soon find out. Speaking of killing things, I did a little research and learned that digitalis is fatal to dogs in doses of 6g or higher. But I do not think I have the heart for it, even if it is to put them out of their misery.
Found out yesterday that two friends from Nashville as well as my bestie, Nat, will be traveling to Antigua the first week of July. The plan is forthem to find a beach on either the east or west coast and I will meet them there. Am really looking forward to seeing them, as well as black sand beaches!
Even though I felt like death yesterday, it was the best class so far. I started crying in class on Thursday, because I was so frustrated, but yesterday seemed really fluid. Little by little, I am able to communicate better with my family. I still completely mash words together and abuse the tenses horribly, but we understand one another a little better each day.
Okie dokie, artichokies, be well. Talk soon.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
A quickie
Hola! Wanted to write something quick. I have an exam tomorrow and need to go to the store before I begin studying, so I probably won't have time today for a proper post, but wanted to let you all know that I am getting all your comments and emails and they mean the world to me!
I'm at McDonald's for a sec -- desperately needed a sundae -- and my friend from school Erin turned to me and said, "I'm SO glad we have internet here." Yo tambien!
Here is yesterday in a nutshell -- I bought The Little Prince in Spanish, I saw leprosy for the first time, and a bird pooped on my head.
Today I have felt very uncharitable towards Xela, but much of that is Sr. Rooster and the fact that I am straight up allergic to this place. I am a histamined mess. But I got some meds for tonight, and I am out of the house and out of school right now, and feeling decidedly better about life.
More to come.
I'm at McDonald's for a sec -- desperately needed a sundae -- and my friend from school Erin turned to me and said, "I'm SO glad we have internet here." Yo tambien!
Here is yesterday in a nutshell -- I bought The Little Prince in Spanish, I saw leprosy for the first time, and a bird pooped on my head.
Today I have felt very uncharitable towards Xela, but much of that is Sr. Rooster and the fact that I am straight up allergic to this place. I am a histamined mess. But I got some meds for tonight, and I am out of the house and out of school right now, and feeling decidedly better about life.
More to come.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
A Child´s Treasury of Ways to Kill a Chicken
Dinner was late last night and I didn´t begin homework until 9:30. By the time homework finished, I was too tired to even turn on my iPod. This keeps happening. My ¨reward¨for finishing homework is to lie in bed and listen to Chopin´s Nocturnes before falling asleep. But for the past three nights I´ve been too exhausted for even that. So I fell asleep immediately only to be woken up at 12am, 1am, 2am, 2:30am, 3am, 3:30a, 4am, 5am and 5:30 am at which point I just got up and showered. Our rooster, I hates him. We live across the street from a field which serves as a small dump for our neighborhood, I think I have mentioned this. The dump means lots of strays. And lots of strays mean Mr. Rooster is bothered quite often, and in turn bothers me. Keep in mind that our apartment is concrete tile floors, plaster walls, and very little furniture. The doors are metal, the windows are metal and glass. So every single little noise sounds amplified, especially when said noise is a rooster 2 feet below your bedroom window. I think he´s here for good. When A.´s dad stopped by 3 days ago, I thought it was to pick her up for an outing. Now, he and the chickens seem permanent fixtures. So I will have to rework my sleeping schedule around the rooster. Which means, naps in the afternoon, and accepting that I won´t be able to sleep in on Saturdays. All things considered, it´s only a hardship when I am in bed, passing the time by fantasizing about cooking the bird.
Last night, A. modeled for me her Mayan festival clothes, all handmade of course, and incredibly beautiful. Then, I let her play with my little handheld fan that I bought as a gag gift for MRM and me, and A. wanted to listen to the whir of it, and put it up to her ear, at which point about a third of her long, gorgeous, silky hair got tangled in the fan and ended up in a knot the size of a baseball. It was awful. She takes so much pride in her hair and I was sure that we would have to cut it out. I´ve never seen worse tangles. So, I carried her into the bathroom, sat her on the toilet seat, and perched myself on the lip of the tub, and poured almost my entire bottle of conditioner on her hair and worked it out single strand by single strand. It took over an hour. My arms were aching from the effort. But her locks were still beautiful once it was all said and done.
It´s getting really really hard having someone making all my meals for me, and giving me the largest portions. I am seated at the head of the table, and my plate or bowl is always overflowing, while K.´s portions seem to get smaller and smaller. At each meal I have tried to share mine with her, and she gladly accepts, but I haven´t figured out how to tell her to serve me the same as everyone else. I tried twice before and we just ended up talking at each other. I decided not to take the beach trip this weekend and instead stay home and try to do laundry in the pila and help with more household chores.
Classes are going well. There are only 6 of us enrolled in morning classes currently. 3 other students are traveling and several others attend in the afternoons. 2 are from Canada, the other three are from Iowa, Cali and Oregon. We all have very different backgrounds but are getting along well. After break today it was maestros vs. estudiantes in a game of English-Spanish charades. We tried to come up with really cerebral phrases that would be incredibly difficult to act out, but the maestros kept nailing our submissions over and over and over. I was able to guess my English words fairly quickly, but was only able to guess one of my Spanish translations. We lost, but it was close.
I requested my same teacher for next week. We seem to be finding a rhythm. There is no lesson plan here, they teachers just kind of wing it based on the materials on hand, what level you´re at, and what you´re hoping to get out of it. We haven´t started any ¨Medical Spanish¨yet but that will mainly be vocabulary anyway. At lunch today, Senor Gaucho asked about my skin, and I had to try to explain my autoimmune disease, ideopathic guttate hypomelanosis. Thankfully, melanin and immune system are a pretty straight translation.
I have felt really dumb all week, and am feeling tired of feeling dumb, but today I received a really wonderful email from my friend James, who has recently moved to Africa for missions work, and who is taking language classes as well. He is also a linguist, and for that reason, I take his advice on learning languages even more to heart. Which is basically this: don´t try to master anything. Be a servant. Be a conduit. Immerse yourself in the people and in the life of the place, and the language skills will come. This is opposite of what I have felt like I ought to do, so it´s nice to feel like I have permission to just be, just talk to people and engage them instead of holing up in a Western cafe memorizing vocab.
My family is Catholic. I am going to see if they´ll let me accompany them to church on Sunday. Allegedly, there are 100K - 1M Guatemalans waiting to be christmated in the Orthodox Church, but I haven´t been able to find them.
Oh, I found out recently that World Vision has approved me to visit my Guatemalan sponsor daughter, Lucia, while I am here. However, they want to transport me from Guatemala City, which isn´t the safest place on earth. So I am trying to work out meeting Lucia, whose village is apparantly only accessible by boat, and would appreciate your prayers that that happens.
My feelings about being her change by the hour. I love it. I´m bored. I´m homesick. I´m annoyed. I love it. I know that come August, I will be really really glad I came, but some hours August feels like a lifetime away. Hoping all is well with you in your respective corners.
Last night, A. modeled for me her Mayan festival clothes, all handmade of course, and incredibly beautiful. Then, I let her play with my little handheld fan that I bought as a gag gift for MRM and me, and A. wanted to listen to the whir of it, and put it up to her ear, at which point about a third of her long, gorgeous, silky hair got tangled in the fan and ended up in a knot the size of a baseball. It was awful. She takes so much pride in her hair and I was sure that we would have to cut it out. I´ve never seen worse tangles. So, I carried her into the bathroom, sat her on the toilet seat, and perched myself on the lip of the tub, and poured almost my entire bottle of conditioner on her hair and worked it out single strand by single strand. It took over an hour. My arms were aching from the effort. But her locks were still beautiful once it was all said and done.
It´s getting really really hard having someone making all my meals for me, and giving me the largest portions. I am seated at the head of the table, and my plate or bowl is always overflowing, while K.´s portions seem to get smaller and smaller. At each meal I have tried to share mine with her, and she gladly accepts, but I haven´t figured out how to tell her to serve me the same as everyone else. I tried twice before and we just ended up talking at each other. I decided not to take the beach trip this weekend and instead stay home and try to do laundry in the pila and help with more household chores.
Classes are going well. There are only 6 of us enrolled in morning classes currently. 3 other students are traveling and several others attend in the afternoons. 2 are from Canada, the other three are from Iowa, Cali and Oregon. We all have very different backgrounds but are getting along well. After break today it was maestros vs. estudiantes in a game of English-Spanish charades. We tried to come up with really cerebral phrases that would be incredibly difficult to act out, but the maestros kept nailing our submissions over and over and over. I was able to guess my English words fairly quickly, but was only able to guess one of my Spanish translations. We lost, but it was close.
I requested my same teacher for next week. We seem to be finding a rhythm. There is no lesson plan here, they teachers just kind of wing it based on the materials on hand, what level you´re at, and what you´re hoping to get out of it. We haven´t started any ¨Medical Spanish¨yet but that will mainly be vocabulary anyway. At lunch today, Senor Gaucho asked about my skin, and I had to try to explain my autoimmune disease, ideopathic guttate hypomelanosis. Thankfully, melanin and immune system are a pretty straight translation.
I have felt really dumb all week, and am feeling tired of feeling dumb, but today I received a really wonderful email from my friend James, who has recently moved to Africa for missions work, and who is taking language classes as well. He is also a linguist, and for that reason, I take his advice on learning languages even more to heart. Which is basically this: don´t try to master anything. Be a servant. Be a conduit. Immerse yourself in the people and in the life of the place, and the language skills will come. This is opposite of what I have felt like I ought to do, so it´s nice to feel like I have permission to just be, just talk to people and engage them instead of holing up in a Western cafe memorizing vocab.
My family is Catholic. I am going to see if they´ll let me accompany them to church on Sunday. Allegedly, there are 100K - 1M Guatemalans waiting to be christmated in the Orthodox Church, but I haven´t been able to find them.
Oh, I found out recently that World Vision has approved me to visit my Guatemalan sponsor daughter, Lucia, while I am here. However, they want to transport me from Guatemala City, which isn´t the safest place on earth. So I am trying to work out meeting Lucia, whose village is apparantly only accessible by boat, and would appreciate your prayers that that happens.
My feelings about being her change by the hour. I love it. I´m bored. I´m homesick. I´m annoyed. I love it. I know that come August, I will be really really glad I came, but some hours August feels like a lifetime away. Hoping all is well with you in your respective corners.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Primero Martes
Greetings from my new favorite cafe with free internet! I still do not know how to do an apostrophe or the at symbol, so I cannot log onto Facebook. Today we toured the main cemetery in Xela. It was muy interesante because there were tombs there based on Colonial, Greco Roman, Gothic, Egyptian and Druid architecture. It was really overcast and the volcano and mountains in the background were misty which added to the creepiness in a good way.
On the way to the cemetery I saw one of the saddest things ever. First, there are lots of stray dogs here. Lots and lots and lots. Nasty, starving, mangy, dirty, matted-fur strays that wander around and try to find some little thing to eat. And a ton of them are pregnant, or have just given birth. I try not to look at them, because it makes me way too sad to acknowledge their existance. But today, walking down my hill, I noticed a dog that looked like cross between a lab and a hound dog, and she was drinking out of a puddle and looking very thin, except she had huge, swollen, sagging teats. As I passed her, I noticed that in addition she had a prolapsed, strangulated, necrotic uterus that flies were crawling all over, and she had her tail wrapped around it to protect it. I cannot tell you what I felt when I saw her. Clearly she has had so many puppies that the musculature that normally holds that organ intact, have failed her and she expelled it, and then it got swollen, so it could not be pushed back in, which is the strangulated part, and that causes the necrosis, or tissue death. I spent the rest of the walk to the school wondering if the same drugs that can kill humans would also kill dogs. If this is so, I am not above going to the farmacia, buying a bunch of potassium or digitalis or ibuprofen and feeding it to her with some meat. I really, really, really wish Xela exterminated the strays like Guatemala City does. I never thought I would say that. But this is no place not to have a home.
Classes this morning went well. I am still so mentally exhausted. We took a field trip to a Menonite bakery two zones away, and I was expecting the Menonites to be from the States, but they turned out to be Guatemalan. I got a whoopie pie which was not very tasty and some delicious homemade blueberry yogurt. There is a fridge at the school and I can keep stuff there if I ever need it, since there is not one at home. I am excited about that. Another thing I am excited about is the fact that the student who lives above me brought Harry Potter books 1-3. I am going to start reading 1 again tonight. Harry and I have been through some of our darkest days together. I am glad to have him with me here.
Last night I tried to communicate with A., without the help of my dictionary. She had climbed up onto my bed and I said, Do you want to listen to your heart? She nodded and I got out my stethoscope and pen light and we listened to hearts and lungs and stomachs and examined eyes for about an hour. Dinner last night was amazing and so so so simple. It was a giant bowl of fresh sliced cucumber and avocado with herbs and lemon juice on it. So far, I have had 12 vegetarian meals here and no beans! I am so impressed with K., she is doing better than me at feeding me. Even though I love beans and would happily eat them, it is nice to have so much variety.
Two nights ago, A.s father arrived. I really like him. I do not know his name, so he is Senor Gaucho in my head. He wears cowboy boots and pearl snaps and has thick black hair that sticks up everywhere and a tiny Hitler moustache and a limp. He came because he had an infection in his gums and needed treatment from the nurse who lives with us. As payment, he brought one rooster and two hens. The rooster is tethered 2 feet below my bedroom window and does, all day, what I only thought roosters do at sunrise. A. loves them. The family tried to explain to me what the plans are for the new additions, but I could not understand. It seems we are to eat them or just eat the eggs, or maybe both. No se. Today at lunch, I learned the Spanish and my family learned the English for: Love is blind, love at first sight, What is in your backpack? and What are you studying? I have no idea how those phrases are related, but that is what they wanted to learn. All the stools were full at lunch, and A. needed to study, so she filled up her backpack and then halfway unzipped the sides, and sat in it like an armchair. She is a smart one.
This is a quick post because my loving, sweet, wonderful, patient maestra said, Please, please, please study and know everything we have gone over by tomorrow. Eek! I feel like I have no time. The school plans activities every afternoon and weekend, and meals with my family last hours, so I do not have a lot of time to study. But I am still getting my feet under me and will hopefully find a routine soon.
Again, I thank you for your thoughts and kind words and prayers. I feel them all the way over here!
So I will leave you be and try to learn los verbos.
On the way to the cemetery I saw one of the saddest things ever. First, there are lots of stray dogs here. Lots and lots and lots. Nasty, starving, mangy, dirty, matted-fur strays that wander around and try to find some little thing to eat. And a ton of them are pregnant, or have just given birth. I try not to look at them, because it makes me way too sad to acknowledge their existance. But today, walking down my hill, I noticed a dog that looked like cross between a lab and a hound dog, and she was drinking out of a puddle and looking very thin, except she had huge, swollen, sagging teats. As I passed her, I noticed that in addition she had a prolapsed, strangulated, necrotic uterus that flies were crawling all over, and she had her tail wrapped around it to protect it. I cannot tell you what I felt when I saw her. Clearly she has had so many puppies that the musculature that normally holds that organ intact, have failed her and she expelled it, and then it got swollen, so it could not be pushed back in, which is the strangulated part, and that causes the necrosis, or tissue death. I spent the rest of the walk to the school wondering if the same drugs that can kill humans would also kill dogs. If this is so, I am not above going to the farmacia, buying a bunch of potassium or digitalis or ibuprofen and feeding it to her with some meat. I really, really, really wish Xela exterminated the strays like Guatemala City does. I never thought I would say that. But this is no place not to have a home.
Classes this morning went well. I am still so mentally exhausted. We took a field trip to a Menonite bakery two zones away, and I was expecting the Menonites to be from the States, but they turned out to be Guatemalan. I got a whoopie pie which was not very tasty and some delicious homemade blueberry yogurt. There is a fridge at the school and I can keep stuff there if I ever need it, since there is not one at home. I am excited about that. Another thing I am excited about is the fact that the student who lives above me brought Harry Potter books 1-3. I am going to start reading 1 again tonight. Harry and I have been through some of our darkest days together. I am glad to have him with me here.
Last night I tried to communicate with A., without the help of my dictionary. She had climbed up onto my bed and I said, Do you want to listen to your heart? She nodded and I got out my stethoscope and pen light and we listened to hearts and lungs and stomachs and examined eyes for about an hour. Dinner last night was amazing and so so so simple. It was a giant bowl of fresh sliced cucumber and avocado with herbs and lemon juice on it. So far, I have had 12 vegetarian meals here and no beans! I am so impressed with K., she is doing better than me at feeding me. Even though I love beans and would happily eat them, it is nice to have so much variety.
Two nights ago, A.s father arrived. I really like him. I do not know his name, so he is Senor Gaucho in my head. He wears cowboy boots and pearl snaps and has thick black hair that sticks up everywhere and a tiny Hitler moustache and a limp. He came because he had an infection in his gums and needed treatment from the nurse who lives with us. As payment, he brought one rooster and two hens. The rooster is tethered 2 feet below my bedroom window and does, all day, what I only thought roosters do at sunrise. A. loves them. The family tried to explain to me what the plans are for the new additions, but I could not understand. It seems we are to eat them or just eat the eggs, or maybe both. No se. Today at lunch, I learned the Spanish and my family learned the English for: Love is blind, love at first sight, What is in your backpack? and What are you studying? I have no idea how those phrases are related, but that is what they wanted to learn. All the stools were full at lunch, and A. needed to study, so she filled up her backpack and then halfway unzipped the sides, and sat in it like an armchair. She is a smart one.
This is a quick post because my loving, sweet, wonderful, patient maestra said, Please, please, please study and know everything we have gone over by tomorrow. Eek! I feel like I have no time. The school plans activities every afternoon and weekend, and meals with my family last hours, so I do not have a lot of time to study. But I am still getting my feet under me and will hopefully find a routine soon.
Again, I thank you for your thoughts and kind words and prayers. I feel them all the way over here!
So I will leave you be and try to learn los verbos.
Monday, May 17, 2010
First Day, or, The Longest Blog Post Ever Written
Greetings. I have had my first day of classes and first night with my family. I cannot find the apostrophe on this terminal, so no contractions today. And to be honest, my brain is so fried right now, I am not even certain apostrophe is the right word.
How to tell you about my family...
I will pick up from the time MRM left. I started crying. I tried really hard not to, but I had been trying hard not to for about 48 hours, and as soon as her shuttle pulled away, I lost it. I wandered around for a while, at the Parque Central and through some of the streets in the center of town. I did not have the energy to face an entire evening with my family, and since it was Sunday, all the bookstores were closed. Bookstores are my go-to destination when I am feeling lonely, because so many of my author friends are there, it makes me feel better. So I tried to find two bookstores, and both were closed. I wandered through a market and did not find anything to buy, and finally I decided to head back to my new home.
I got there and started unpacking, and took as long as I possibly could doing so, but even so, it only took up a half hour. But the act of taking things out of my pack and putting them "away" heartened me some. After unpacking, I read my phrase book cover to cover, another half hour. Then, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, I grabbed my huge English-Spanish dictionary and headed to the dining room. I am not sure what to do about using names here. I do not think there are any privacy issues, but just to be safe, I will not think use their full names. So, K. is mi casa mama and A. is the 6 yearold daughter and M. is the older daughter. Though, to be honest, I have no idea if M. is related to them because she calls K. by her first name, which seems really strange.
I sat at the table with K. and A., who were working on a homework assignment for A. They built an ark from newsprint that was sailing on a sea of styrofoam (Duroport! Thank you, MRM, for knowing that word.) surrounded by plastic animals. A. immediately became my little maestracita (sita?) and began talking to me very slowly and clearly. We ate animal crackers, but not before giving the Spanish and English name for each cracker. We did the same thing with her animals for the ark, she taught me the names of them and had me repeat them back to her over and over again. Then, she got out her fake money, kind of like monopoly money, only it was a reproduction of actual quetzals, and we practiced counting in Spanish and making change. After the ark was complete, we did 3 puzzles together, a Winnie the Pooh puzzle, a Disney princess puzzle and a Strawberry Shortcake puzzle. She called Strawberry Shortcake "Pasita Fresita" which is my new favorite phrase. While doing the puzzles, I learned colors and clouds and rain and various other vocabulary.
When I got back to the casa, I had my leftovers with me from the Indian meal MRM and I had the day before. MRM had taught me how to say, "I have dinner, so you do not need to cook for me tonight" but evidently I butchered it, because K. thought I had purchased dinner for everyone, and surprised me by serving my leftovers to all of us. But they loved it! I was so happy that their first taste of Indian food was from the best Indian restaurant on earth. We had naan and dal and saag paneer and K. also made these egg and onion fritters which I could not eat fast enough. Since that meal, K. has told 4 people all about it and how good it was, so I think I will bring it home several more times.
After dinner, my lessons continued. And I must add that even though I was having a wonderful evening, it was still really stressful. I had my dictionary, A. and K. each had their dictionary and I was looking up every other word, trying to make sense. But somehow we got through it. Once dinner was over, A. got her Spanish vocabulary flashcards and laid them face down on the table, 12 at a time, and would announce a letter. I would then have to choose the correct card and we would go over the 6 words listed on that card. I would tell them what words I knew, and then they would act out the others and I had to guess what it was in English. I taught them the English words for "butterfly" and "ladybug" which they loved repeating. Oh, before that, A. asked me if I liked to read, and if I liked to read stories or books. I did not understand the distinction until I realized she was using the word for fairy tales. I told her, yes, I loved fairy tales, at which point she went and got a copy of Little Red Riding Hood ("Caperucita Roja") for me to borrow.
I am paying USD 150 a week to live here and take lessons. Included in that 150 is my homestay, which guarantees me a safe and clean place to live, as well as 3 meals a day, 7 days a week. What my family gets out of that 150 is 35 bucks a week. I can easily spend 35 bucks on one meal. I am carrying more than that on me right now, and usually carry more than that on me at all times.
Before I had come home last night, I had made the decision to move back to small, beautiful, quaint Antigua, and spend the summer with MRM at the gorgeous McDonalds courtyard. All I could think yesterday was, "I cannot believe I have 3 months here." On my way to the internet cafe just now, I was thinking, "I cannot believe I have only 3 months here."
Around 8pm last night, a family friend came over, who also happens to be a nurse. It took me a stupidly long time to realize that she was not sitting down because my books were lying on the only other available chair. She joined in on the vocabulary game as well and helped A. and K. act out words for me in our very own Spanish charades. Around 10pm I began to worry that she had not left yet, because K. told me that it was safe in our neighborhood, but you should not be out alone after 10 or 11. Finally, she got up and I assumed she was leaving, but she headed to the back bedroom and then was seen brushing her teeth. So she lives with us, which makes us a family of 5, and I am the only one with a private bedroom. A. and M. share the room next to me. K. and the nurse share the room across from me, which is so small that you cannot walk around their two twin beds, but have to climb over them. When I got here, I thought my room was kind of crappy, but it is luxurious to me now.
By American standards, this place is a dump. That is a really harsh word, but it is true. I can remember a few years ago being in Compton/Inglewood with my friend James, seeing the apartment he used to live in and thinking, "OMG, I could never do this." But his old apartment in Inglewood is a lot nicer than where I am currently. Here, there is hardly any furniture, nothing on the walls, no "living room" to speak of, only a single bureau that serves as everyones closet as well as the linen closet. But the place is so flipping clean and the people who live here are so incredibly patient and warm and generous and accepting of me, that it took me hours to realize what is not here. There is not a single chair in the apartment. There are 5 seats in the apartment, and they are 5 cheap plastic stools that we use to sit on at meals, or use as tables when A. and I are making clay animals in the courtyard, or to put the radio on in the kitchen, etc. In the kitchen, there is no runnning water. In fact, there is not a sink in the kitchen. Or a microwave. Or an oven. Or a refrigerator. The kitchen is a tiny room with a wooden bench in it, and balanced on the bench are 4 stove eyes that are connected to a can of kerosene in the corner. There are 2 small metal shelves that hold the food and dishes, and oftentimes both. K. makes food and then covers it and stores it on the shelf. The rice that we did not eat last night is now covered on the shelf, and part of todays lunch was a pot of mashed potatoes that had been sitting there for an unknown length of time and were reheated with milk and butter. The milk is not kept cold, nor are the eggs, but I had both for breakfast and they were delicious. I told the school that I do not eat meat, and I am really glad I did, because even though all the meat she serves is cooked, I feel better about eating bread and veggies that have not been refrigerated than meat. The stove is so low that you have to kneel to cook at it, although it is the perfect height for A. who was helping make tortillas this afternoon.
Outside the house there is a large stone cement sink that the dishes soak in before they are washed. There is also a "pila" which is where the laundry is done. The pila is a stone sink with a slanted, ridged bottom, that you rub your clothes on to clean them. Then you rinse them, wring them, and put them on the line. I hope my cheap-o Old Navy clothes can withstand this. The only sink in the house is in the bathroom. It is tiny, about the size of a magazine, and only has a cold water faucet. The bathroom "cabinet" is a red plastic basket nailed to the wall beside the sink. In the shower (which is huge, yay!) there is also only one faucet. So my heart fell this morning, envisioning 3 months of shaving my legs in cold showers. But not so! It was warm, actually only barely hot, which is how I like it, because hot showers make me nauseous. I cannot tell you how happy that warm water made me. Before I left the States, I got used to turning the water off during the shower except for rinsing off, so it seems natural now. I am trying to use as few of their resources as possible.
The whole week in Antigua I laid awake at night in the hostel praying -- begging, really -- to be placed with the perfect family for me. But also, I secretly hoped they would be rich. In the few hours that I have been here, it is evident that my prayers have been answered. It is almost like, Hey, God knows what He is doing. I am already in love with these incredible people who have opened their home and their lives and their hearts to me, who have so little, but offer it so freely. There is so much love and warmth and affection between them all, it is such a pleasure to experience. I am humbled and honored to share my life with them over the next 12 weeks. I think I will learn so so so much from them. And perhaps Spanish, as well.
And speaking of... School went really well. Which is to say that it is exhausting. This morning there were 6 other students. In the apartment above me lives another student with her host family. So we walked to school and back together today. When we got to school we all met in the kitchen and introduced ourselves and then were paired with our teachers. Mine is named Helen, and she is wonderful. Although I feel bad for her. I hope she makes a lot of money teaching. I do not think I would last an hour having to listen to students like myself bumble their way through the language. I had to take a placement test, which, even though you cannot techincally fail a placement test, I did. We worked in the basics, indefinite and definite articles, present tense with regular verbs, interrogatives, etc. One hour in, I was thinking, At least this will be over at noon, and then I remembered that I signed up for 5 hours of classes and we would not get done until 1pm. At our break, I walked Erin, the student who lives above me, to the pharmacy, because she has been sick with a head and chest cold. We did not find exactly what we were looking for, but I was able to recognize the main ingredients in Sudafed and cold medicine, so she bought that. Hope it works...
After the break, we again gathered in a circle and had to introduce ourselves again, tell one thing me like and one thing we do not like. I said I liked my host family and did not like hot weather. And actually, today was perfect. Overcast and cool. I burned really bad yesterday, so it was a welcome reprieve.
Helen did not assign homework to me, and when I asked for some, what she gave me seems pretty easy. I like easy. For now, at least. Tomorrow we begin integrating Medical Spanish into my lessons. I really want to throw myself into these lessons and learn as quickly as possible so I can begin volunteering at the clinics. Although, to be honest, I am so profoundly exhausted still that I cannot imagine working a 5 hour shift at the clinic on top of all this. Part of me really wishes I was not committed to school in August, and could spend the summer learning Spanish very well and then spend the fall/winter simply working in the clinics. I guess Xela is not going anywhere.
Thanks for reading, and for your kind words and thoughts and prayers. I appreciate them!
How to tell you about my family...
I will pick up from the time MRM left. I started crying. I tried really hard not to, but I had been trying hard not to for about 48 hours, and as soon as her shuttle pulled away, I lost it. I wandered around for a while, at the Parque Central and through some of the streets in the center of town. I did not have the energy to face an entire evening with my family, and since it was Sunday, all the bookstores were closed. Bookstores are my go-to destination when I am feeling lonely, because so many of my author friends are there, it makes me feel better. So I tried to find two bookstores, and both were closed. I wandered through a market and did not find anything to buy, and finally I decided to head back to my new home.
I got there and started unpacking, and took as long as I possibly could doing so, but even so, it only took up a half hour. But the act of taking things out of my pack and putting them "away" heartened me some. After unpacking, I read my phrase book cover to cover, another half hour. Then, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer, I grabbed my huge English-Spanish dictionary and headed to the dining room. I am not sure what to do about using names here. I do not think there are any privacy issues, but just to be safe, I will not think use their full names. So, K. is mi casa mama and A. is the 6 yearold daughter and M. is the older daughter. Though, to be honest, I have no idea if M. is related to them because she calls K. by her first name, which seems really strange.
I sat at the table with K. and A., who were working on a homework assignment for A. They built an ark from newsprint that was sailing on a sea of styrofoam (Duroport! Thank you, MRM, for knowing that word.) surrounded by plastic animals. A. immediately became my little maestracita (sita?) and began talking to me very slowly and clearly. We ate animal crackers, but not before giving the Spanish and English name for each cracker. We did the same thing with her animals for the ark, she taught me the names of them and had me repeat them back to her over and over again. Then, she got out her fake money, kind of like monopoly money, only it was a reproduction of actual quetzals, and we practiced counting in Spanish and making change. After the ark was complete, we did 3 puzzles together, a Winnie the Pooh puzzle, a Disney princess puzzle and a Strawberry Shortcake puzzle. She called Strawberry Shortcake "Pasita Fresita" which is my new favorite phrase. While doing the puzzles, I learned colors and clouds and rain and various other vocabulary.
When I got back to the casa, I had my leftovers with me from the Indian meal MRM and I had the day before. MRM had taught me how to say, "I have dinner, so you do not need to cook for me tonight" but evidently I butchered it, because K. thought I had purchased dinner for everyone, and surprised me by serving my leftovers to all of us. But they loved it! I was so happy that their first taste of Indian food was from the best Indian restaurant on earth. We had naan and dal and saag paneer and K. also made these egg and onion fritters which I could not eat fast enough. Since that meal, K. has told 4 people all about it and how good it was, so I think I will bring it home several more times.
After dinner, my lessons continued. And I must add that even though I was having a wonderful evening, it was still really stressful. I had my dictionary, A. and K. each had their dictionary and I was looking up every other word, trying to make sense. But somehow we got through it. Once dinner was over, A. got her Spanish vocabulary flashcards and laid them face down on the table, 12 at a time, and would announce a letter. I would then have to choose the correct card and we would go over the 6 words listed on that card. I would tell them what words I knew, and then they would act out the others and I had to guess what it was in English. I taught them the English words for "butterfly" and "ladybug" which they loved repeating. Oh, before that, A. asked me if I liked to read, and if I liked to read stories or books. I did not understand the distinction until I realized she was using the word for fairy tales. I told her, yes, I loved fairy tales, at which point she went and got a copy of Little Red Riding Hood ("Caperucita Roja") for me to borrow.
I am paying USD 150 a week to live here and take lessons. Included in that 150 is my homestay, which guarantees me a safe and clean place to live, as well as 3 meals a day, 7 days a week. What my family gets out of that 150 is 35 bucks a week. I can easily spend 35 bucks on one meal. I am carrying more than that on me right now, and usually carry more than that on me at all times.
Before I had come home last night, I had made the decision to move back to small, beautiful, quaint Antigua, and spend the summer with MRM at the gorgeous McDonalds courtyard. All I could think yesterday was, "I cannot believe I have 3 months here." On my way to the internet cafe just now, I was thinking, "I cannot believe I have only 3 months here."
Around 8pm last night, a family friend came over, who also happens to be a nurse. It took me a stupidly long time to realize that she was not sitting down because my books were lying on the only other available chair. She joined in on the vocabulary game as well and helped A. and K. act out words for me in our very own Spanish charades. Around 10pm I began to worry that she had not left yet, because K. told me that it was safe in our neighborhood, but you should not be out alone after 10 or 11. Finally, she got up and I assumed she was leaving, but she headed to the back bedroom and then was seen brushing her teeth. So she lives with us, which makes us a family of 5, and I am the only one with a private bedroom. A. and M. share the room next to me. K. and the nurse share the room across from me, which is so small that you cannot walk around their two twin beds, but have to climb over them. When I got here, I thought my room was kind of crappy, but it is luxurious to me now.
By American standards, this place is a dump. That is a really harsh word, but it is true. I can remember a few years ago being in Compton/Inglewood with my friend James, seeing the apartment he used to live in and thinking, "OMG, I could never do this." But his old apartment in Inglewood is a lot nicer than where I am currently. Here, there is hardly any furniture, nothing on the walls, no "living room" to speak of, only a single bureau that serves as everyones closet as well as the linen closet. But the place is so flipping clean and the people who live here are so incredibly patient and warm and generous and accepting of me, that it took me hours to realize what is not here. There is not a single chair in the apartment. There are 5 seats in the apartment, and they are 5 cheap plastic stools that we use to sit on at meals, or use as tables when A. and I are making clay animals in the courtyard, or to put the radio on in the kitchen, etc. In the kitchen, there is no runnning water. In fact, there is not a sink in the kitchen. Or a microwave. Or an oven. Or a refrigerator. The kitchen is a tiny room with a wooden bench in it, and balanced on the bench are 4 stove eyes that are connected to a can of kerosene in the corner. There are 2 small metal shelves that hold the food and dishes, and oftentimes both. K. makes food and then covers it and stores it on the shelf. The rice that we did not eat last night is now covered on the shelf, and part of todays lunch was a pot of mashed potatoes that had been sitting there for an unknown length of time and were reheated with milk and butter. The milk is not kept cold, nor are the eggs, but I had both for breakfast and they were delicious. I told the school that I do not eat meat, and I am really glad I did, because even though all the meat she serves is cooked, I feel better about eating bread and veggies that have not been refrigerated than meat. The stove is so low that you have to kneel to cook at it, although it is the perfect height for A. who was helping make tortillas this afternoon.
Outside the house there is a large stone cement sink that the dishes soak in before they are washed. There is also a "pila" which is where the laundry is done. The pila is a stone sink with a slanted, ridged bottom, that you rub your clothes on to clean them. Then you rinse them, wring them, and put them on the line. I hope my cheap-o Old Navy clothes can withstand this. The only sink in the house is in the bathroom. It is tiny, about the size of a magazine, and only has a cold water faucet. The bathroom "cabinet" is a red plastic basket nailed to the wall beside the sink. In the shower (which is huge, yay!) there is also only one faucet. So my heart fell this morning, envisioning 3 months of shaving my legs in cold showers. But not so! It was warm, actually only barely hot, which is how I like it, because hot showers make me nauseous. I cannot tell you how happy that warm water made me. Before I left the States, I got used to turning the water off during the shower except for rinsing off, so it seems natural now. I am trying to use as few of their resources as possible.
The whole week in Antigua I laid awake at night in the hostel praying -- begging, really -- to be placed with the perfect family for me. But also, I secretly hoped they would be rich. In the few hours that I have been here, it is evident that my prayers have been answered. It is almost like, Hey, God knows what He is doing. I am already in love with these incredible people who have opened their home and their lives and their hearts to me, who have so little, but offer it so freely. There is so much love and warmth and affection between them all, it is such a pleasure to experience. I am humbled and honored to share my life with them over the next 12 weeks. I think I will learn so so so much from them. And perhaps Spanish, as well.
And speaking of... School went really well. Which is to say that it is exhausting. This morning there were 6 other students. In the apartment above me lives another student with her host family. So we walked to school and back together today. When we got to school we all met in the kitchen and introduced ourselves and then were paired with our teachers. Mine is named Helen, and she is wonderful. Although I feel bad for her. I hope she makes a lot of money teaching. I do not think I would last an hour having to listen to students like myself bumble their way through the language. I had to take a placement test, which, even though you cannot techincally fail a placement test, I did. We worked in the basics, indefinite and definite articles, present tense with regular verbs, interrogatives, etc. One hour in, I was thinking, At least this will be over at noon, and then I remembered that I signed up for 5 hours of classes and we would not get done until 1pm. At our break, I walked Erin, the student who lives above me, to the pharmacy, because she has been sick with a head and chest cold. We did not find exactly what we were looking for, but I was able to recognize the main ingredients in Sudafed and cold medicine, so she bought that. Hope it works...
After the break, we again gathered in a circle and had to introduce ourselves again, tell one thing me like and one thing we do not like. I said I liked my host family and did not like hot weather. And actually, today was perfect. Overcast and cool. I burned really bad yesterday, so it was a welcome reprieve.
Helen did not assign homework to me, and when I asked for some, what she gave me seems pretty easy. I like easy. For now, at least. Tomorrow we begin integrating Medical Spanish into my lessons. I really want to throw myself into these lessons and learn as quickly as possible so I can begin volunteering at the clinics. Although, to be honest, I am so profoundly exhausted still that I cannot imagine working a 5 hour shift at the clinic on top of all this. Part of me really wishes I was not committed to school in August, and could spend the summer learning Spanish very well and then spend the fall/winter simply working in the clinics. I guess Xela is not going anywhere.
Thanks for reading, and for your kind words and thoughts and prayers. I appreciate them!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Feeling unsettled while getting settled
I just said goodbye to MRM. She boarded a shuttle back to Antigua, and I am officially on my own. I'm writing from the Black Cat Hostel, where we stayed last night with 40 others. There was a mass checkout this morning, as all the language students, myself included, packed up and left the hostel for our homestays.
The family I will be living with for the next three months is so lovely. A young mother and her six year old daughter. I'm glad there is a child in the house so I can practice speaking with her after we both finish our lessons for the day. They live a few minutes walk from our school, on a hillside overlooking the city. There are jersey cows across the street, and also a tiny dump, but I didn't notice it smelling at all. One of the other students from my school lives in the apartment above me, so we will walk to and from classes together. My house mother, said it was a very safe neighborhood so long as you're not out alone after 10 or 11 at night.
Last night was nuts. Xela was playing for the country futbol cup, verses Guatemala City, as I mentioned earlier. MRM and I made friends with an Austalian, Ali, and went with her to watch the game, along with the entire city. Before that, MRM and I walked up to La Democracia Market to get some notebooks for me and to acquaint ourselves with the city. There were buses running all afternoon, dropping travelers off for the game. And they had bused in a lot of police officers, as well. We went to watch the game at a place called Salon Tecun, which is this huge colonial building with an open courtyard in the center. They had set up flatscreens throughout the courtyard and it was incredibly packed. There's really nothing to compare it to in the States, we just don't turn out for sporting events with the same enthusiasm and ferocity. It was pouring rain, had been for hours, and there were smoke machines on a stage behind the field, which shrouded the field in the beginning of the game. Between that and the rain, it looked pretty miserable. We were glad we didn't spend Q200 on tickets. Poor Xela lost :( But we didn't stay to see it. We were all too tired. On the way home, MRM mistook the small, domed speedbumps that are all over the streets for a herd of turtles. It was pretty funny.
This morning, MRM and I walked Ali to the bus station, which we thoguht was about a 10 minute walk, but we'd mistaken a smaller bus station for the actual one, and that turned into a 2 hour trek, there and back. But we wanted to make sure Ali made it on to the right bus, and it was good for me to know how to get back there for the weekends that I'll be leaving Xela to meet MRM elsewhere.
Somehow I failed to realize before I got here that Xela is a city. In my head, I was headed to the mountains to live in a quaint little town with clearly marked roads, and everything I needed in walking distance. And though everything here is technically in walking distance, it is a whole lot bigger than I thought. I can't find my house on any of my 3 maps I have, even though I generally have a pretty good sense of direction. But I can get home based on landmarks, which is quite a relief. There are three zones to the city, and many of the numbered roads start over once you change roads. Plus there are lots of diagonals and roads that will stop for a few blocks and then pick up again later. So trying to navigate around here has felt like trying to climb the stairs at Hogwarts, it's never the same route twice.
The architecture here is both beautiful and varied. I mentioned this to MRM and she said, "Yeah, it's almost like they were colonized multiple times by different invaders." It definitely feels like a Central American city, and has that colonial look to it. But there is also a very European feel to it, with lots of Gothic architecture as well.
I spent the weekend vacillating between loving this place and feeling incredibly nervous about living here for the next three months. As I was preparing to come here, and getting through nursing finals and wrapping up work, I couldn't wait to spend a summer abroad alone with time to think and breathe. Now that it's here, I'm realizing how lonely it might be as well. MRM and I were talking about this over lunch today. We both want to travel back to Latin America next summer, but we're thinking a month is about as long a trip as we want. Right now, we're both bone tired. And have decided, 6 days into our vacation, that what we really need is a vacation :) A beach somewhere, with some cabanas and some margaritas. I think I will feel better once I am more settled with my homestay family, and can communicate better. As I was following my house mother to the house today, I couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for what I was about to put her through, seeing as how I barely know survival Spanish. It will be awkward for a while but hopefully I'll begin to pick it up quickly.
Will try to get online tomorrow after the first day of lessons. Hope you all are well!
The family I will be living with for the next three months is so lovely. A young mother and her six year old daughter. I'm glad there is a child in the house so I can practice speaking with her after we both finish our lessons for the day. They live a few minutes walk from our school, on a hillside overlooking the city. There are jersey cows across the street, and also a tiny dump, but I didn't notice it smelling at all. One of the other students from my school lives in the apartment above me, so we will walk to and from classes together. My house mother, said it was a very safe neighborhood so long as you're not out alone after 10 or 11 at night.
Last night was nuts. Xela was playing for the country futbol cup, verses Guatemala City, as I mentioned earlier. MRM and I made friends with an Austalian, Ali, and went with her to watch the game, along with the entire city. Before that, MRM and I walked up to La Democracia Market to get some notebooks for me and to acquaint ourselves with the city. There were buses running all afternoon, dropping travelers off for the game. And they had bused in a lot of police officers, as well. We went to watch the game at a place called Salon Tecun, which is this huge colonial building with an open courtyard in the center. They had set up flatscreens throughout the courtyard and it was incredibly packed. There's really nothing to compare it to in the States, we just don't turn out for sporting events with the same enthusiasm and ferocity. It was pouring rain, had been for hours, and there were smoke machines on a stage behind the field, which shrouded the field in the beginning of the game. Between that and the rain, it looked pretty miserable. We were glad we didn't spend Q200 on tickets. Poor Xela lost :( But we didn't stay to see it. We were all too tired. On the way home, MRM mistook the small, domed speedbumps that are all over the streets for a herd of turtles. It was pretty funny.
This morning, MRM and I walked Ali to the bus station, which we thoguht was about a 10 minute walk, but we'd mistaken a smaller bus station for the actual one, and that turned into a 2 hour trek, there and back. But we wanted to make sure Ali made it on to the right bus, and it was good for me to know how to get back there for the weekends that I'll be leaving Xela to meet MRM elsewhere.
Somehow I failed to realize before I got here that Xela is a city. In my head, I was headed to the mountains to live in a quaint little town with clearly marked roads, and everything I needed in walking distance. And though everything here is technically in walking distance, it is a whole lot bigger than I thought. I can't find my house on any of my 3 maps I have, even though I generally have a pretty good sense of direction. But I can get home based on landmarks, which is quite a relief. There are three zones to the city, and many of the numbered roads start over once you change roads. Plus there are lots of diagonals and roads that will stop for a few blocks and then pick up again later. So trying to navigate around here has felt like trying to climb the stairs at Hogwarts, it's never the same route twice.
The architecture here is both beautiful and varied. I mentioned this to MRM and she said, "Yeah, it's almost like they were colonized multiple times by different invaders." It definitely feels like a Central American city, and has that colonial look to it. But there is also a very European feel to it, with lots of Gothic architecture as well.
I spent the weekend vacillating between loving this place and feeling incredibly nervous about living here for the next three months. As I was preparing to come here, and getting through nursing finals and wrapping up work, I couldn't wait to spend a summer abroad alone with time to think and breathe. Now that it's here, I'm realizing how lonely it might be as well. MRM and I were talking about this over lunch today. We both want to travel back to Latin America next summer, but we're thinking a month is about as long a trip as we want. Right now, we're both bone tired. And have decided, 6 days into our vacation, that what we really need is a vacation :) A beach somewhere, with some cabanas and some margaritas. I think I will feel better once I am more settled with my homestay family, and can communicate better. As I was following my house mother to the house today, I couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for what I was about to put her through, seeing as how I barely know survival Spanish. It will be awkward for a while but hopefully I'll begin to pick it up quickly.
Will try to get online tomorrow after the first day of lessons. Hope you all are well!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Xela, at last!
Greetings from Xela! MRM and I left Antigua at 6am and arrived here around 10am. I got really motion-sick on the way, as we drove through windy mountain roads. But they were all very well paved, which was fantastic. MRM thought she saw a man walking a deer this morning, but we now think it was a very pretty goat. And speaking of goats, tonight is the national futbol championship, in Xela, and Xela (whose team is called the Super Sheep) is playing for the title. We were lucky to find room in the Black Cat Hostel, but not before the grumpy proprietor lectured us on how he doesn´t understand why anyone would want to stay there.
Our final shuttle driver, William, was so kind and helpful. He´d been to Nashville several times and has friends in Knoxville.
Everyone I´ve met at my school has been lovely! It´s across the street from the flower market. Xela is much bigger than I had any idea. And very hilly. I´m overwhelmed and excited, which is pretty much how I´ve felt this whole time.
I will really miss my study buddy and compatriot, MRM, and my tour guides, Henry and Stephen. They left for Lanquin yesterday afternoon and I won´t see them again until August. MRM is coming back to Xela for her birthday in two weeks, and I am determined to be able to have short conversations with her in Spanish.
I had a total freak out moment on the way here. The shuttle driver asked us if we wanted to stop and get some food and use the bathroom and I had no idea what he was saying, and thought, there is no way I can be left alone here.
The past few days in Antigua have been good. After touring the market two days ago, MRM and I happened on a taco shop and she ordered ¨pastor¨tacos for us, thinking it was like ¨pastoral¨and therefore vegetarian. Turns out the meat was really tough, chewy pork. But all the toppings were good, as was the company. Sitting next to us at the counter was Tom, who turned out to be the new in-country director for International Justice Mission, a humanitarian organization I´ve had a tremendous amount of respect for for awhile. Tom was in Antigua learning Spanish, as the person he replaced, a Guatemalan, was moving to the DC office. IJM has international jurisdiction in cases of child abuse, assault, and trafficking as well as handling the myriad social services that rescued kids need.
Last night, MRM and Monica (our sweet, smart Belgium friend from the hostel) and I saw the documentary ¨When the Mountains Tremble¨ which gave a very brief overview of the Guatemalan Civil War, including the roles played by the Guatemalan government, the US Government, United Fruit, and the peasants/campesinos who were getting all uppity and wanting things like running water and a sewage system, and not to starve to death, or be disappeared. It was a good documentary, but it tried to do too much, in the end. Still, I reccommend it.
Will report next week after I meet my homestay family tomorro. MRM and I are going to wander around and get acquainted with this place. Cheers!
Our final shuttle driver, William, was so kind and helpful. He´d been to Nashville several times and has friends in Knoxville.
Everyone I´ve met at my school has been lovely! It´s across the street from the flower market. Xela is much bigger than I had any idea. And very hilly. I´m overwhelmed and excited, which is pretty much how I´ve felt this whole time.
I will really miss my study buddy and compatriot, MRM, and my tour guides, Henry and Stephen. They left for Lanquin yesterday afternoon and I won´t see them again until August. MRM is coming back to Xela for her birthday in two weeks, and I am determined to be able to have short conversations with her in Spanish.
I had a total freak out moment on the way here. The shuttle driver asked us if we wanted to stop and get some food and use the bathroom and I had no idea what he was saying, and thought, there is no way I can be left alone here.
The past few days in Antigua have been good. After touring the market two days ago, MRM and I happened on a taco shop and she ordered ¨pastor¨tacos for us, thinking it was like ¨pastoral¨and therefore vegetarian. Turns out the meat was really tough, chewy pork. But all the toppings were good, as was the company. Sitting next to us at the counter was Tom, who turned out to be the new in-country director for International Justice Mission, a humanitarian organization I´ve had a tremendous amount of respect for for awhile. Tom was in Antigua learning Spanish, as the person he replaced, a Guatemalan, was moving to the DC office. IJM has international jurisdiction in cases of child abuse, assault, and trafficking as well as handling the myriad social services that rescued kids need.
Last night, MRM and Monica (our sweet, smart Belgium friend from the hostel) and I saw the documentary ¨When the Mountains Tremble¨ which gave a very brief overview of the Guatemalan Civil War, including the roles played by the Guatemalan government, the US Government, United Fruit, and the peasants/campesinos who were getting all uppity and wanting things like running water and a sewage system, and not to starve to death, or be disappeared. It was a good documentary, but it tried to do too much, in the end. Still, I reccommend it.
Will report next week after I meet my homestay family tomorro. MRM and I are going to wander around and get acquainted with this place. Cheers!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
We Might Be Giants
Guatemalans are tiny! Especially Mayans. I can't get used to it. They are small and sturdy, like Hobbits, only beautiful. And while we're making comparisons, this country might as well be the Shire on account of how absolutely lovely it is. I'm not sure what I expected. I think I thought it would be pretty, if I thought about it at all. But I wasn't expecting it to be so gorgeous. The short Guatemalans are accomodated for in public restaurants and the like, where bathroom sinks and dining counters hit below my waist. I'm not used to feeling tall.
Today was the first day where we went somewhere that was mostly non-white. Thus far, the place we are staying, and the restaurants we've been to have been very Western. And as such, you get the impression that a long time ago, a bunch of white people arrived in Antigua and said to themselves, "What a quaint, pretty little place. All it needs is a Starbucks and generic Irish pub." And speaking of said pub, it's where MRM and I headed last night when we were trying to find her brothers. We spent more on 2 beers there than a pitcher costs back at the hostel, but we didn't know where else to look for Henry or Stephen. The pub could have been in Dallas, or Hoboken, or Nashville. While we were there, MRM mentioned that Guatemala has a 70% unemployment rate and when she said that, I feltmy stomach fall a bit, like it does on a carnival ride. I must have looked a little dumbstruck, becuase she followed it with, "Yeah, why do you think so many people wander around and try to sell you cashews and stuff?" Then I started to feel ill. And I wanted to buy truckloads of cashews, knowing full well that it doesn't solve anything long term. I think that might be one of my lessons here. Learning the importance of studying and staying the course so that when I am ready to serve, it will be more profitable in the long run than buying a sack of cashews. Tracy Kidder, who wrote the Dr. Paul Farmer biography, "Mountains Beyond Mountains" once said something along the lines of, "There are two ways to think about the poor, one is to not think about them. And two, when you do think about them, send a check, and then forget about them." Sending checks is really important. I do it each month to four different orgs, but I don't want to only be a check sender.
Earlier in the evening, we had a lovely dinner with MRM's house mother, Margoth, and Robin, another student. We talked about a number of things and I mainly listened and tried to follow along as best I could. When Margoth learned I was studying to become a nurse, she told us of this hospital for the indigenous poor that was founded by a conquistador priest who has since been sainted and whose church we visited the day before. The church has been in operation for 400 years and remains "funded" -- if you can call it that -- 100% by donations, but much of the money is stolen by the government. Then the conversation turned to politics and Margoth mentioned how lucky we are to have Obama as our president because he "is very smart and doesn't kill people."
There is a dog that lives at the hostel, Tiara. She's a goldren retriever who must be about 100 years old. She sleeps all day in the soil that the palm trees are planted in, and in the early mornings, she moves to the chairs before anyone else is awake. I love her. She reminds me of the Martins' old dog, Pokey.
We were at MRM's homestay yesterday afternoon to pick up her computer and we went up to the roof to see if we could pick up a WiFi signal, and to meet Claudio, the rooster, and MRM's alarm clock. The view from the roof is spectacular. It had just rained, and on all sides were mountains shrouded in mist, and cathedrals, and the ruins of older cathedrals. MRM turns to me and says, "If you want to see something really sad, look over the side into the courtyard below." The courtyad below looks like a tiny Calcutta or Sao Paulo, though I have never been to either. It's essentially the town dump, with shacks, and people living in them, trying to cook something decent to eat. It was all very ugly and dirty and sick and sad. And I couldn't stop staring. These are the faces they flash at you on late night informercials so you'll send money to far away places. But the places are never that far away.
After the earthquake in Haiti, Dr. Paul Farmer -- physician, anthropologist, founder of Partners in Health, my hero, and all around greatest human alive -- was talking about the devastation, and the poverty that had made a way for it. He said, "There is no such thing as the 'third world.' There is only one world, and we all live in it."
Today was the first day where we went somewhere that was mostly non-white. Thus far, the place we are staying, and the restaurants we've been to have been very Western. And as such, you get the impression that a long time ago, a bunch of white people arrived in Antigua and said to themselves, "What a quaint, pretty little place. All it needs is a Starbucks and generic Irish pub." And speaking of said pub, it's where MRM and I headed last night when we were trying to find her brothers. We spent more on 2 beers there than a pitcher costs back at the hostel, but we didn't know where else to look for Henry or Stephen. The pub could have been in Dallas, or Hoboken, or Nashville. While we were there, MRM mentioned that Guatemala has a 70% unemployment rate and when she said that, I feltmy stomach fall a bit, like it does on a carnival ride. I must have looked a little dumbstruck, becuase she followed it with, "Yeah, why do you think so many people wander around and try to sell you cashews and stuff?" Then I started to feel ill. And I wanted to buy truckloads of cashews, knowing full well that it doesn't solve anything long term. I think that might be one of my lessons here. Learning the importance of studying and staying the course so that when I am ready to serve, it will be more profitable in the long run than buying a sack of cashews. Tracy Kidder, who wrote the Dr. Paul Farmer biography, "Mountains Beyond Mountains" once said something along the lines of, "There are two ways to think about the poor, one is to not think about them. And two, when you do think about them, send a check, and then forget about them." Sending checks is really important. I do it each month to four different orgs, but I don't want to only be a check sender.
Earlier in the evening, we had a lovely dinner with MRM's house mother, Margoth, and Robin, another student. We talked about a number of things and I mainly listened and tried to follow along as best I could. When Margoth learned I was studying to become a nurse, she told us of this hospital for the indigenous poor that was founded by a conquistador priest who has since been sainted and whose church we visited the day before. The church has been in operation for 400 years and remains "funded" -- if you can call it that -- 100% by donations, but much of the money is stolen by the government. Then the conversation turned to politics and Margoth mentioned how lucky we are to have Obama as our president because he "is very smart and doesn't kill people."
There is a dog that lives at the hostel, Tiara. She's a goldren retriever who must be about 100 years old. She sleeps all day in the soil that the palm trees are planted in, and in the early mornings, she moves to the chairs before anyone else is awake. I love her. She reminds me of the Martins' old dog, Pokey.
We were at MRM's homestay yesterday afternoon to pick up her computer and we went up to the roof to see if we could pick up a WiFi signal, and to meet Claudio, the rooster, and MRM's alarm clock. The view from the roof is spectacular. It had just rained, and on all sides were mountains shrouded in mist, and cathedrals, and the ruins of older cathedrals. MRM turns to me and says, "If you want to see something really sad, look over the side into the courtyard below." The courtyad below looks like a tiny Calcutta or Sao Paulo, though I have never been to either. It's essentially the town dump, with shacks, and people living in them, trying to cook something decent to eat. It was all very ugly and dirty and sick and sad. And I couldn't stop staring. These are the faces they flash at you on late night informercials so you'll send money to far away places. But the places are never that far away.
After the earthquake in Haiti, Dr. Paul Farmer -- physician, anthropologist, founder of Partners in Health, my hero, and all around greatest human alive -- was talking about the devastation, and the poverty that had made a way for it. He said, "There is no such thing as the 'third world.' There is only one world, and we all live in it."
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
From Antigua, with love
I can't find the colon on this keyboard, which is aggravating. Oh well. I also can't figure out shift in order to cap a letter. But we make do.
So, today has been very low key. I woke up, showered, did laundry in the shower, and went back to bed. Getting in bed after a shower is one of my favorite treats in the world, and I usually don't allow myself to do it, but since I am on vacation, I am allowed. Breakfast is included in the cost of our hostel stay, and I have ordered the desayuno tipico both mornings, because there is hardly anything better than scrambled eggs, beans with red sauce and crema, and fried plantains. We waited for MRM to get out of class, and then remained at the hostel to watch a subtitled movie and then headed out to lunch. I was very excited to learn that the cafe served kombucha tea, and then very sad to find out they were out of it. After lunch we split up, MRM and I wandered and window shopped and made plans to head to Cafe Sky to do homework and watch the sunset from the roof, but it began to sprinkle so we headed back towards the center of town and made it into another cafe on the main square in time before it began to pour. Our server reminded me of a short, Latin Lil Wayne, so of course I fell in love with him immediately.
I proudly have kept myself sunburn free so far, except for my toes, which I forgot about, and now they look like red Vienna sausages. Poor toes. Wearing sunscreen is a pain, I think it makes me sweat more, or at least feel a lot stickier than I should me. But I've resigned myself to feeling that way all summer rather than burn up and risk more damage to my already melanin-free skin.
Tonight we are supposedly going to "Mexican Night" at the hostel, which merely means 2 for 1 margaritas. Tomorrow night there is some Cuban music off the central park that we're going to try to catch and on Friday night there is a screening of a documentary on the Guatemalan Civil War. So finally I will learn something about this beautiful place I'm living for the next three months. So far I am still feeling very much the tourist here. It doesn't help that I look exactly like all the other tourists here -- aviators, Chacos, Nalgene, cargo shorts, daypack. I've never stood out so much before -- to my knowledge -- but I don't know what can be done about it.
In the two and a half days I've been here, I've already lost weight. And not from Guatemalan diarrhea! Yet. So that's the good news. The bad news is, some of my clothes are already too big, and I have 13.5 weeks left. Mayhaps I'll invest in a gaudy woven belt.
OK, it's dinner time and we don't know where we're eating yet, so I'll wrap this up. But first, an apology -- there's no spell check on this computer, and I haven't reread this post or the last one, something I swore I would never do. So if there are gross misspellings and grammar errors, I kindly ask your forgiveness.
So, today has been very low key. I woke up, showered, did laundry in the shower, and went back to bed. Getting in bed after a shower is one of my favorite treats in the world, and I usually don't allow myself to do it, but since I am on vacation, I am allowed. Breakfast is included in the cost of our hostel stay, and I have ordered the desayuno tipico both mornings, because there is hardly anything better than scrambled eggs, beans with red sauce and crema, and fried plantains. We waited for MRM to get out of class, and then remained at the hostel to watch a subtitled movie and then headed out to lunch. I was very excited to learn that the cafe served kombucha tea, and then very sad to find out they were out of it. After lunch we split up, MRM and I wandered and window shopped and made plans to head to Cafe Sky to do homework and watch the sunset from the roof, but it began to sprinkle so we headed back towards the center of town and made it into another cafe on the main square in time before it began to pour. Our server reminded me of a short, Latin Lil Wayne, so of course I fell in love with him immediately.
I proudly have kept myself sunburn free so far, except for my toes, which I forgot about, and now they look like red Vienna sausages. Poor toes. Wearing sunscreen is a pain, I think it makes me sweat more, or at least feel a lot stickier than I should me. But I've resigned myself to feeling that way all summer rather than burn up and risk more damage to my already melanin-free skin.
Tonight we are supposedly going to "Mexican Night" at the hostel, which merely means 2 for 1 margaritas. Tomorrow night there is some Cuban music off the central park that we're going to try to catch and on Friday night there is a screening of a documentary on the Guatemalan Civil War. So finally I will learn something about this beautiful place I'm living for the next three months. So far I am still feeling very much the tourist here. It doesn't help that I look exactly like all the other tourists here -- aviators, Chacos, Nalgene, cargo shorts, daypack. I've never stood out so much before -- to my knowledge -- but I don't know what can be done about it.
In the two and a half days I've been here, I've already lost weight. And not from Guatemalan diarrhea! Yet. So that's the good news. The bad news is, some of my clothes are already too big, and I have 13.5 weeks left. Mayhaps I'll invest in a gaudy woven belt.
OK, it's dinner time and we don't know where we're eating yet, so I'll wrap this up. But first, an apology -- there's no spell check on this computer, and I haven't reread this post or the last one, something I swore I would never do. So if there are gross misspellings and grammar errors, I kindly ask your forgiveness.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
First Full Day in Guat!
Greetings! I am writing to you from the McDonald's in Antigua. Don't hate! We've been trekking all afternoon, and were headed to a bookstore/internet cafe called the Rainbow Cafe, when we ran into Robin, who is enrolled in the same school as Miriam, and she said, "You have to check out the garden at McDonald's." So we did, and we got sucked in. Just now, Miriam said, "This is SO weird. All of a sudden, it just hit me." It is weird, that we're hanging at Evil Empire, but Robin was right, the courtyard is GORGEOUS. Seriously, people get married in places this pretty. I don't think we'll make a habit of it, but our legs were tired so we stayed.
The past two days have been wonderful. When I arrived we went straight to Miriam's grandmother's house to pick up her dad and the rest of the stuff. Henry & Stephen were already in Antigua at their favorite hostel, Jungle Party. They reserved a bed for me, so the three of us are there, Dn. Ed and Mrs. Myrna stayed at this lovely little B&B that used to be a government official's house. The roof terrace is incredible. We took some photos up there last night, with the volcano and cathedrals behind us.
Before we arrived in Antigua, we went to the Hogar to meet Mother Ines. I had never met her before, but the Martins have been coming to the orphanage for the past 15 years. We ate lunch with the children and the other volunteers who were there and then toured the chapel and the grounds and the woodshop. Myrna said that Guatemala has been closed for international adoptions for the past two years, so the children there will remain at the orphanage until they age out of it or leave of their own will. It's so lovely and the children were delightful. The woodworking shop was very impressive, they had all kinds of computer guided saws and make really beautiful puzzles, toys, jewelry boxes, etc. The wood used is mainly driftwood that is collected by Mother Ines's parents.
An aside, Coldplay is really popular here. Or rather, Coldplay is really popular at McDonald's and at Jungle Party.
After visiting with Mother Ines, who I am in love with, we left Guatemala City for Antigua. I was dropped off at Jungle Party to check in with the guys, and Miriam was taken to her homestay. She TOTALLY lucked out with her homestay -- she is living in this beautiful home above a bakery and she has a maid. Plus, her house mother is a doll. We sat and talked with her for about a half hour last night, and I was able to keep up with about 1/8 of what was being said. Success!
Today we all met for brunch at a little place called Fernando's that the guys love. Prior to brunch, I had made it all the way out of bed and to the hammock on the patio. Henry and Stephen were both in hammocks, too, and reading novels, and I was beginning to feel very left out. The downside of getting everything I need into one bag, was that I had no room for a fun book. All I have on my are my school books. I was sulking that I had nothing but "Medical Spanish" to read when I chanced upon a beat up copy of Haruki Murakami's "After Dark." I was so excited! I read his "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle" several years ago, and I hated it, and then once it was over, I decided I had actually loved it and I missed reading it.
So, brunch -- Fernando roasts his own coffee and now chocolate. We got chocolate crepes and coffee, and if you're ever here, you'll have to do that too. After brunch, we walked around a bunch. We found this gorgeous hotel called "The House of a Thousand Flowers" and toured it and decided that if our friends the Baumgartners ever come to Guatemala, we'll make them stay there. We also toured some ruins and a cathedral and ran across a Mayan woman doing her laundry in a public pila in a square near the cathedral. This was exciting to see, because it's how I'll be doing my laundry once I'm in Xela.
Dn. Ed and Myrna left this afternoon. The guys are here for another two weeks, but on Thursday they're leaving us in Antigua and heading east to a resort town called Lanquin. I'll stay at Jungle Party until Friday, and then MRM and I will take a bus to Xela, stay in a hostel there for two nights, before I meet my host family on Sunday.
We're really enjoying ourselves here. I've never vacationed anywhere like this -- I'm totally digging being surrounded by a volcano and such gorgeous architecture. OK, MRM's computer battery is beginning to die. I hope all of you are well.
The past two days have been wonderful. When I arrived we went straight to Miriam's grandmother's house to pick up her dad and the rest of the stuff. Henry & Stephen were already in Antigua at their favorite hostel, Jungle Party. They reserved a bed for me, so the three of us are there, Dn. Ed and Mrs. Myrna stayed at this lovely little B&B that used to be a government official's house. The roof terrace is incredible. We took some photos up there last night, with the volcano and cathedrals behind us.
Before we arrived in Antigua, we went to the Hogar to meet Mother Ines. I had never met her before, but the Martins have been coming to the orphanage for the past 15 years. We ate lunch with the children and the other volunteers who were there and then toured the chapel and the grounds and the woodshop. Myrna said that Guatemala has been closed for international adoptions for the past two years, so the children there will remain at the orphanage until they age out of it or leave of their own will. It's so lovely and the children were delightful. The woodworking shop was very impressive, they had all kinds of computer guided saws and make really beautiful puzzles, toys, jewelry boxes, etc. The wood used is mainly driftwood that is collected by Mother Ines's parents.
An aside, Coldplay is really popular here. Or rather, Coldplay is really popular at McDonald's and at Jungle Party.
After visiting with Mother Ines, who I am in love with, we left Guatemala City for Antigua. I was dropped off at Jungle Party to check in with the guys, and Miriam was taken to her homestay. She TOTALLY lucked out with her homestay -- she is living in this beautiful home above a bakery and she has a maid. Plus, her house mother is a doll. We sat and talked with her for about a half hour last night, and I was able to keep up with about 1/8 of what was being said. Success!
Today we all met for brunch at a little place called Fernando's that the guys love. Prior to brunch, I had made it all the way out of bed and to the hammock on the patio. Henry and Stephen were both in hammocks, too, and reading novels, and I was beginning to feel very left out. The downside of getting everything I need into one bag, was that I had no room for a fun book. All I have on my are my school books. I was sulking that I had nothing but "Medical Spanish" to read when I chanced upon a beat up copy of Haruki Murakami's "After Dark." I was so excited! I read his "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle" several years ago, and I hated it, and then once it was over, I decided I had actually loved it and I missed reading it.
So, brunch -- Fernando roasts his own coffee and now chocolate. We got chocolate crepes and coffee, and if you're ever here, you'll have to do that too. After brunch, we walked around a bunch. We found this gorgeous hotel called "The House of a Thousand Flowers" and toured it and decided that if our friends the Baumgartners ever come to Guatemala, we'll make them stay there. We also toured some ruins and a cathedral and ran across a Mayan woman doing her laundry in a public pila in a square near the cathedral. This was exciting to see, because it's how I'll be doing my laundry once I'm in Xela.
Dn. Ed and Myrna left this afternoon. The guys are here for another two weeks, but on Thursday they're leaving us in Antigua and heading east to a resort town called Lanquin. I'll stay at Jungle Party until Friday, and then MRM and I will take a bus to Xela, stay in a hostel there for two nights, before I meet my host family on Sunday.
We're really enjoying ourselves here. I've never vacationed anywhere like this -- I'm totally digging being surrounded by a volcano and such gorgeous architecture. OK, MRM's computer battery is beginning to die. I hope all of you are well.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Arrived!
I made it, my bag made it, and I'm in Guatemala City heading to the orphanage our church helps support. Then we're all going to Antigua for the night. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Adios!
T-minus four hours until I leave for the airport, and I have just finished rearranging my gear for the last time. Trying to pack for a 14 week trip has really served to highlight exactly how materialistic I am.
In fact, I turned into a total hoarder.
Thankfully, my friend Jan helped me with some perspective last night. I had, among other things, several Dopp kits CRAMMED full of toiletries that I don't even use. She kept asking me what I was bringing them along for, and my stock answer was, "In case..." In case what? An emergency arises that calls for 12 sample size Neutrogena face washes? This went on for a while and it was, frankly, embarrassing to realize how much junk I believed I needed. Where does it come from? This compulsion to bring so much crap with me that I haven't used once all year long. I can live without witch hazel. I do it every day.
But now we've pared it all down to the contents of a carry on and a daypack.
And this is nothing short of miraculous for me, the person who can't leave the house without an adult version of a diaper bag so that I will never be without something I might need. Several years ago my sister Laura and I went to Las Vegas for her 21st birthday party. We weren't even going to be there 72 hours, and still managed the fill the ENTIRE back of her Xterra with bags, sacks, suitcases, backpacks, pillows, etc. Our luggage trolley at the Hard Rock was almost too heavy to maneuver. So the fact that I am living for 3.5 months out of a carry on bag, and that I've had to pack for: beaches, volcanoes, rainy season, sunny weather, cold weather, hiking gear, clinic clothes, plus all the books I need for Spanish and Medical Spanish, is kind of totally amazing. But it didn't come easy. I've spent the last 4 days wondering what I've needed, buying what I think I'll need, getting home, reevaluating, packing, unpacking, repacking, making returns, buying more stuff and on and on and on. When what I should have done was pack a few outfits and some cash and bought what I needed when I got there.
But enough about packing. It's done.
The last time I was out of the country was the summer of 2003, which I spent in Prague, completing my Bachelor's degree. Once we'd been accepted into the Prague program, we were required to read 6 books off a reading list about Prague's history and culture, keep a journal of our reading, and write an essay about each choice. I was a little put out initially, but it turned out to be an incredibly wonderful opportunity to learn more about a place that's intrigued me for as long as I can remember. So when I arrived in Prague, I felt acquainted to the city in a way I never would have otherwise, and I loved that. And I am really regretting not having that same feeling going into this trip. I feel unprepared, intellectually and emotionally. Happily, I will have Miriam to answer my questions, but I feel like I haven't done my homework, which is one of the worst possible ways to feel in my little obsessive compulsive personality disorder universe. I purchased some of Rene Castillo Otto's poetry collections and I read a lovely novel called Hummingbird House, but I still feel really green about Guatemala and Guatemalans.
Regardless, I am happy-anxious and ready for the summer to begin. I've been slogging through school and working more hours than I should have and saving saving saving my money for months and I'm ready for it to begin.
Also, I am really excited about the school I am going to! It's named after Guatemalan Nobel-prize winning poet, Miguel Angel Asturias, and it's one of the most highly recommended schools specializing in Medical Spanish. I feel like both sides of me, the one who has a Bachelor's in Literature and Anthropology and the one who is currently in nursing school will feel at home there and that makes me very happy.
And if I may be so bold, I feel a little like Harry Potter right now. I'm setting off on an adventure, going to live in a town I never knew existed until just recently, in a place where they speak a language I don't know. And while Platform Nine and Three Quarters is a much cooler way to begin a journey than Nashville International Airport, I have a suspicion that The Land of Eternal Spring might be just as lovely a place to be as Hogwarts.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Shower the City You Love with Love
It's almost 3am, and I leave for Guatemala in 27 hours. Nursing III finals wrapped up on Thursday, and since then, I have been dashing about trying to get ready to leave for the longest trip I've ever taken.
Meanwhile, Nashville is recovering from a 100 or 500 or 1000 year flood.
In the days following Katrina, like so many others, I got to work volunteering in any way I could. And that's when I found out from the Red Cross that the people who were being deployed to the Gulf had all kinds of fancy disaster training. I thought, I wanna be ready next time. So I signed up for the training and in the months that followed became a member of the Red Cross's national Disaster Services Human Resources team and the local Disaster Action Team. In the 5 years since Katrina, I've been asked to activate, but have never been able to secure the time off work in order to deploy.
And then the flood happened in the city I love. The city that's been home to me for as long as I can remember. And I have the fancy training now, and the kickass disaster vest. And I'm leaving.
I've spent the past several days on the verge of tears. It takes hardly anything to set me off. I know I'm exhausted from the end of the semester and am fried from trying to get out of town. But I'm also aching at how much was lost here, and I'm sad that so much remains to be done and I will not be here to do it.
It sounds a little arrogant to say that. But my saying that has nothing to do with any kind of confidence in my own ability. Rather, it comes from the confidence I have in the people I know. The ones who have slept very little since the storm and who will continue their tireless work until it is finished. I want to spend the summer beside these people, giving my time to the place that I love.
I'm trying to remind myself that there is work to be done all over the world, and I am privileged to be able to give of my time in Central America this summer. But a part of me still feels guilty and indulgent, leaving now.
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