Random Thoughts from a Guatemalan Traveller
Trip Start
Dec 26, 2006
1
9
90
Trip End
Dec 25, 2007
Quetzaltenango, Guatemala
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
The one thing I will guarantee is that this email will wander all over the place as my head threatens to explode off of the top of my shoulders - then again no-one said learning a language was gonna be easy!
My daily life as it stands at the moment goes a something like this folks:
I start my day with a great little gadget I collected in Canada called the "Total Body Expander". Oh yes folks for $10 bucks I get my daily workout with some dodgy rubber contraption that I am sure you can see advertised in the early hours of the morning courtesy of Chuck Norris and the infomercial crew. I half expect to open my door and see Chuck and a live studio audience oohing and aahing as I flex my biceps, triceps, deltoids and back whilst nodding my head like an idiot. Well it is the only physical exercise I get in Xela apart from walking and inhaling muchos carbon dioxide, but that is another dot point!
Next up is the shower, all 64 jets of which lets say 32 work and of those 32 maybe 8 expel warm water. And have I mentioned there are more electrical wires in the shower than in entire houses back home. I get the "don't touch" part, so far so good. And as guatemaltecos average five foot not much and I am 6 ft 2 you can imagine the lengths I go to to get wet when I get in the shower. And did I mention the toilet has no seat or lid so placing your clothes whilst in the shower becomes quite the balancing act. I nearly lost my pants to the bowl but my jaguar like reflexes prevented tears.
Next up is breakfast, the second largest meal for the day. This consists of guatemalan coco pops with milk, followed by a fried egg and fijoles (black beans) and some bread washed down with a cafe. The trick here is to not go too hard too early on the coffee because it is required to swallow the bread which on its own without liquid is damn near impossible. A man can choke on that stuff I tell ya! Conversation is in espanol, which in my case means understaning every third or fourth word and predominantly grinning like an idiot for most of the time, when I am not concentrating on swallowing the bread that is!
The black beans then work their magic on my boughs so I think you know what comes next. And yes, the paper goes into the open basket besides the toilet, face down as I prefer not to admire my work and just let it be....becuase there it stays until the end of the week.
At 8am I begin my spanish lessons, a mere 2 minutes walk from my house to the school. This is my second week of school and teacher number two. My teacher Helen, a mere 21 years of age from the first week did not suit me at all with her regimented style of teaching. The lessons ran from 2-7pm and come 6pm I was usually yawning my head off as she gazed out into the distance cutiin her damn eyebrows...and all the while I am paying for this. She also spoke about two words of English which makes it a tad difficult to ask any questions which usually comes with learning. So it was ´´adios muchacha´´ to Helen and hola to Guillermo for my second week. Also changed the time to mornings as 8am to 1pm seems to suit my yawning patterns.
The saying ´´ýou can´t teach an old dog new tricks´´ has been ringing true of late. Learning a language has been way harder than I had imagined. Sure I did a year of Spanish in 2003 but while that gives you a base to write it is no help when it comes to speaking or understanding what the locals are saying. Two seven year olds back home would be engaging in more rivetting conversations than I am at the moment with my family. There are only so many time a day you can use the words gracias, por favor, hola and si. Sure I can say I am from Australia and my name is Darren but after that the cupboard is pretty bare. I liken it to trying to drive a car minus three wheels and an engine. I have another week and a half at the school before the trip begins in full and I am outa here. With a bit of luck things will fall into place and I can start to speak like a 10 year old guetemalan boy some time soon.
After I finish school I head home (straight across the road) for lunch which is the biggest meal of the day. My host family have really good meals compared to others (think cheese sandwiches for lunch and oatmeal for breakfast all day, every day....and not a vegetable or slab of meat in sight) and lunch is usually sopa con arroz y verduras (soup with rice and vegetables) followed by chicken and tomatos in a broth. I have yet to leave a scrap on my plate, no surprise to those who know me, in the most part because the serves are not huge. But this is their country and not mine so who am I to complain. It just means more space for the blueberry donuts and tacos (total cost about $2) useful in order to help keep the pants up. Jenny Craig should just screw her 30 day plan and send her disciples to Guatemala, because after 2 weeks here they will be back to the size they were as a teenager.
After almorzar (lunch) I get out la casa (house) and head into town, via the bakery and taco shops. It is not so much a case of smell the roses but hold the breath as the bus blowing enough diesel smoke to engulf a small city roars on past you, packed to the rafters with people, chickens and other assorted items. The city of Xela has a pretty imposing backdrop the main focal point is the volcano towering in the distance. This guy has been dormant for many a year so I am confident of not waking up surrounded by lava in the next couple of weeks. The people of Xela are what you would call distant, not the happiest bunch around but I cant say I blame them given the civil war which raged for 13 years and killed thousands only ended in 1996. Having said that I have never felt threatened and it is a safe city to get around on foot with death by moving vehicle more probable, particularly when I am in posession of donuts from the bake shop.
Have hooked up with a few other students here and we usually spend the afternoon doing the spanish homework whilst downing chocolate mochas at Cafe La Luna. And can I put a word in for the mochas, like no other. They use the local chocolate with a shot of espresso coffee. Sweet fancy moses indeed. Sometime in the arvo we usually end up in an internet cafe of which there are hundreds before wandering back along the most uneven footpaths ever contructed, not really constructed by laid at random, for cenar (dinner). This is the smallest meal of the day and usually involves more egg and black beans and a cup of tea, coffee or hot chocolate. It has been known to involve only a cup of chocolate and a piece of bread...hence the donuts and tacos around 4pm.
After more conversations where I pick up every third word and usually miss the vital joining verb that is required to understand what is being said, I head to my room out back to read, listen to tunes on my i'river and fall asleep around 9.30pm. All the while I am being watched over by Jesus whose picture beams down on me 24-7 from the bedroom wall.The man pops up all over the house, from the last supper over the dinner table to the nativity scene (and this is the mother of all nativity scenes) in the lounge room. Yeah you could say this country is religious. One of the first questions you are asked by family and teacher is are you religious and do you believe in god. Whatever your opinions are it is advisable to answer yes to all of the above. Somehow the family is under the impression that I am a protestant with a great interest in Israel. Go figure as I have no idea how that came about but they seem happy with that so a Jewish Protestant I am!
And while I am talking about my family I have to say I lucked out here. There are two sisters Letty (a teacher) and Hildy (cooking and domestic duties), Letty´s son Ludwig (sole english speaker in the house and teacher) and her daughter Nancy (have a guess..a teacher) and Nancy´s 8 year old daughter Mishell. Mishell is a bundle of energy and also the easiest to understand given her age. We have a secret handshake that changes each week with this weeks involving a shake, a fist and a twist at the end. They are an exercise in patience given my limited spanish and the fact I bring my spanish dictionary to the kitchen table each meal in order to get ask a question other than ¨what animal does this meat come from´´ or ´¨you guatemelans sure love beans and eggs´´.
So as you can now gather the life of a traveller in Guatemala is not all glamour, rum and donuts....although more rum would be appreciated, may even improve my spanish! As you may have read the title of this email contained the word ´´random´´ but this is about as random as family planning so here goes...(after 2 hours of Michael Jackson we now have that Genie in a bottle C Aguilera blaring out the speakers in Spanish....bring back Michael I say)...
On the weekend I headed down to Lake Atitlan in an effort to escape the noise and fumes of Xela. And to prove the world is indeed a small place a lady on the mini-bus was from Mt Gambier called Jean McArthur. She knew mum by name because they went to school together. So mum she says to say hello and wondered if you went to the school reunion last year?
As for the Lake it is surrounded by three towering volcanoes, lets face it with McDonalds you get fries with your meal, in Guatemala its Volcanoes´. Travelled down with three americans and we stayed at a place that typified the phrase ´´you only get what you pay for´´. At barely $5 this place had it all....no luke warm water, only cold, no blankets, only sheets and more stray cats and dogs than at the pound back home. But hey I only had to lie there trying to sleep for 6 hours until every rooster and dog on the island decided to get everyone else up at 6am. However the place we stayed at San Marcos La Laguna was an awesome spot on the lake looking out to the volcanoes. Think ageing hippies still living the dream and you have San Marcos. More guitars, headbands, hairy pits, soy eating vegetarians and renditions of Kumbayah to last me into my next lifetime.
When in Rome came to mind so it was off to get the hour neck head and back massage and let me say it was the best massage I have had. My massuese from the UK had the strongest hands which also came in handy as I threathened to lurch off the table a couple of times courtesy of the knots in my shoulders. Saturday night saw us stuff ourselves stupid at the local restaurant knowing you were not limited to eggs and beans for choice. And these guys put the ice back, into icecream thast is for sure. And then the hippies brought out guitars, headbands, thai-dye and proceeded to sing about making mad passionate love amongst the wildflowers whilst running their fingers through each others hair (head and pits I presume). I have to give credit to the version of ´´Nothings gonna change my world´´ by George Harrison as it was pretty sensational.
If it is Sunday on San Marcos it must be Yoga so for two hours I proceed to remember how I used to be able to twist my body but alas no more. Although I still kick ass on the one-leg-look-like-a-tree-and-balance move. In true hippy style our teacher was from India complete the the softly softly voice urging us all to ´´look into the light, be it red, blue, yellow or green´´. Only to realise that another stray dog was about to bear down on you and your mat or a mosquito was about to dive bomb you from great heights. Thanks but I will keep my eyes open for now and take your word about the lights. After a weekend of relaxation, food and drink and not a car or fume belching bus in sight it was time to return to normality, and what better way to start than a trip in a diesel belching boat back across the lake to Panajachel.
And so another weekend came to a close in Guatemala, a country that has had a real bitch of a time last century but with a bit of luck (and no more bank closures leaving citizens with not a cent to their name...there is something to be said for living in an over'governed country like Australia) is starting to get it together.
Yep, still no much randomness but I am not changing the title now. So stay tuned for more adventures including trips on chicken buses to far flung places, climbing volcanoes (if the lava doesn´t get you the crimnals will) and many more misguided attempts to speak the language with the locals, apart from ´´dos blueberry donuts por favor´´ which I have down pat...and yes they are real blueberries I tell you.
As for coincidence I have one last quick (yeah I can do quick) story for you. Think January 26 and Australia Day back home....mates around the barbie with brews in hand, ladies in the kitchen talking shoes and making salads....meanwhile in Xela as I walked the streets home to another meal of eggs and beans a van roars past advertising margarine of all things with a loudspeaker blaring ´´Land Down Under´´ by Men at Work. Homesick sure but at the end of the day travel ya gotta love it!
Thanks again for all the emails everyone has sent from all over the world letting me know what has been going on and if another person says their life is boring then I will personally smack them across the back of the head as you have no idea how exciting your ´boring´is when travelling. Sure picking lint out of your belly button does not really constitute a weekends activity but it sure gets a laugh over this side of the world. And if anyone can tell me how the lint gets there in the first place drop me a line.
Cheers, Love and everything in between to you all,
Darren ´call me huevos and frijoles´Hall
