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.
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