Temple 1 one of the Mayan ruins in Tikal, Guatemala.
The beautiful pools of Semuc ChampeyThursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
a bird nerd's salute to her grandpa and Señor V
I never thought I would become one... a bird watcher. Yep, that's right, I admitted it, I really have been enjoying the sport of bird watching lately. The only other people I know that are self-proclaimed bird watchers are my grandpa and my friend Adam (or Señor V, as I like to call him now.) I must officially apologize to Adam for making fun of him previously for enjoying gazing at birds. Now, I've crossed over. I am officially one of those nerds that actually goes hiking and then wants to sit and wait for the birds to appear. Even as I type this I am distracted by the beautiful hummingbird outside my window.
Guatemala is a great place to bird watch. I have seen so many different birds of all colors, shapes, and sizes. I had a week vacation a few weeks ago. I got a chance to do some exploring and that's when it hit me...I am a bird nerd (this nickname was given to me by a friend here who noticed my new bird nerdiness.) My friends and I spent a day hiking through the Biotopo de Quetzal, looking for the rare and beautiful Quetzal, Guatemala's official bird. We didn't see any.
I also try to take time everyday to chill in my hammock on the roof and watch the birds swoop and soar through the sky. The sun beats down on the cement and the heat grazes my fingertips and toes as I swing my way to bird bliss. I would encourage everyone to take a few minutes to just be still and enjoy the nature (and birds) around you. It has an odd calming affect.
So, Señor V, next time we are together we have a date to bird watch and we can revel in the fact that we are bird nerds together!
"Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings." -Victor Hugo
Guatemala is a great place to bird watch. I have seen so many different birds of all colors, shapes, and sizes. I had a week vacation a few weeks ago. I got a chance to do some exploring and that's when it hit me...I am a bird nerd (this nickname was given to me by a friend here who noticed my new bird nerdiness.) My friends and I spent a day hiking through the Biotopo de Quetzal, looking for the rare and beautiful Quetzal, Guatemala's official bird. We didn't see any.
I also try to take time everyday to chill in my hammock on the roof and watch the birds swoop and soar through the sky. The sun beats down on the cement and the heat grazes my fingertips and toes as I swing my way to bird bliss. I would encourage everyone to take a few minutes to just be still and enjoy the nature (and birds) around you. It has an odd calming affect.
So, Señor V, next time we are together we have a date to bird watch and we can revel in the fact that we are bird nerds together!
"Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings." -Victor Hugo
Sunday, April 5, 2009
what's shakin?
I ventured onto the public bus yesterday. I have been a bit leery about taking the bus because riding the bus means you are taking the risk of being shot. Not to make that sound too dangerous or dramatic, but there is a lot of violence here. At least four bus drivers get shot and killed in the city everyday. The violence has to do with the gangs and narcotic trafficking in the city although I am not exactly sure of specific details. It's relatively safe to ride the bus during the day, but nights I've been warned against.
At about one in the afternoon, my co-workers and I stepped to the curb outside of our school and hailed a bus as it came flying around the corner. There are bus stops here, but you don't need to be at one to jump on or off the bus. City buses here are old school buses from the states, but painted red. Like the chicken buses, they also have pictures of Jesus and Christian stickers plastered all over them. I've seen quite a few with huge Mercedes Benz signs stuck somewhere to the front of the bus. A "bus helper" stands in the doorway of the bus and yells out where the bus is going. He also whistles to the driver to stop if people are hailing the bus. It costs roughly 8.5 cents to ride the bus. The aisles of the bus are wider than the seats; it is a squeeze to get two people on a seat.
As I was squeezed next to my co-worker and fellow Wisconsinite, Ben, a man came on the bus with a huge box of candy bars. He started describing the product in a really loud voice as he weaved down the aisle handing out candy bars. He weaved his way between all the people standing in the aisle and gave out three candy bars to each person. He was speaking so fast in Spanish that all I could make out was "very delicious, children, gifts..." I was thinking, "Sweet! Free candy bars! I'm hungry!" Turns out, they weren't free. Good thing I didn't rip mine open like I had wanted. I was fighting the urge to do that, trying to avoid looking so gluttenous on the bus! Once the man got to the back of the bus he turned around and made his way back to the front saying, "Cinco Quetzales por tres" which means three candybars for about 80 cents. I tossed mine back in the box as he passed, disappointed.
After school I went out for tacos at a little stand that our staff frequents almost every Friday night. For some reason, the stand and the street were busier than usual. All of a sudden, in the distance, I could see about six gladiators in the distance... actually, they were Guatemalan men dressed as Roman soldiers, short skirt and strappy sandals included. Turns out there was a "procession" being held on the street that night. For about the past month random streets will close down for about an hour as a "procession" makes its way down the street in honor of the upcoming Easter holiday. Antigua, a city about 45 mins from me, is famous for it's processions that march through the town over Easter weekend. Most churches will do a small one. But anyway, back to the gladiators...
They were standing on the street with their shields, a little embarrassed that they were being stared at in their skirts. Behind them were members of the church and men carrying huge spears. Further down the street is a florescent floating figure of Jesus Christ in a blindingly white robe bearing his cross swaying from side to side as it moves slowly down the street. The float is a huge platform, made of wood, I think. Behind the huge Jesus and his cross are a few angels and in front of him a bunch of sheep. The strange thing about the float is that it is being carried by about 40 people. Men and women of all sizes have the float resting on their shoulders. The men are all stooped over because the women are all so short. It takes a long time for the float to make it down the street. A brass band and a few drums follow the float, providing the rhythm for the float's gentle swagger. About ten minutes later the procession is gone; or at least out of my sight. I can hear faint sounds of out of tune brass intstruments trumpeting Jesus's triumph over life as a mortal.
On a side note, I'm officially on vacation! I taught my last class today and have a week off for Semana Santa, or holy week. I'm headed up to Coban, to experience all the wonderful nature it has to offer. Also, I felt two earthquakes today! I was reading in the paper that people aren't supposed to be climbing Pacaya, one of the few active volcanoes here, because it has had some really strong activity lately. I think the two earthquakes today were connected to Pacaya. The whole house was shaking. Nothing broke or fell, but it did make me a little nervous because I wasn't quite up to date on earthquake safety protocol. You should stand in a doorway, in case you didn't know.
So yeah, that's what's shakin' round here! (oh, the pleasure of a cheesy pun!)
Peace out, y'all!
At about one in the afternoon, my co-workers and I stepped to the curb outside of our school and hailed a bus as it came flying around the corner. There are bus stops here, but you don't need to be at one to jump on or off the bus. City buses here are old school buses from the states, but painted red. Like the chicken buses, they also have pictures of Jesus and Christian stickers plastered all over them. I've seen quite a few with huge Mercedes Benz signs stuck somewhere to the front of the bus. A "bus helper" stands in the doorway of the bus and yells out where the bus is going. He also whistles to the driver to stop if people are hailing the bus. It costs roughly 8.5 cents to ride the bus. The aisles of the bus are wider than the seats; it is a squeeze to get two people on a seat.
As I was squeezed next to my co-worker and fellow Wisconsinite, Ben, a man came on the bus with a huge box of candy bars. He started describing the product in a really loud voice as he weaved down the aisle handing out candy bars. He weaved his way between all the people standing in the aisle and gave out three candy bars to each person. He was speaking so fast in Spanish that all I could make out was "very delicious, children, gifts..." I was thinking, "Sweet! Free candy bars! I'm hungry!" Turns out, they weren't free. Good thing I didn't rip mine open like I had wanted. I was fighting the urge to do that, trying to avoid looking so gluttenous on the bus! Once the man got to the back of the bus he turned around and made his way back to the front saying, "Cinco Quetzales por tres" which means three candybars for about 80 cents. I tossed mine back in the box as he passed, disappointed.
After school I went out for tacos at a little stand that our staff frequents almost every Friday night. For some reason, the stand and the street were busier than usual. All of a sudden, in the distance, I could see about six gladiators in the distance... actually, they were Guatemalan men dressed as Roman soldiers, short skirt and strappy sandals included. Turns out there was a "procession" being held on the street that night. For about the past month random streets will close down for about an hour as a "procession" makes its way down the street in honor of the upcoming Easter holiday. Antigua, a city about 45 mins from me, is famous for it's processions that march through the town over Easter weekend. Most churches will do a small one. But anyway, back to the gladiators...
They were standing on the street with their shields, a little embarrassed that they were being stared at in their skirts. Behind them were members of the church and men carrying huge spears. Further down the street is a florescent floating figure of Jesus Christ in a blindingly white robe bearing his cross swaying from side to side as it moves slowly down the street. The float is a huge platform, made of wood, I think. Behind the huge Jesus and his cross are a few angels and in front of him a bunch of sheep. The strange thing about the float is that it is being carried by about 40 people. Men and women of all sizes have the float resting on their shoulders. The men are all stooped over because the women are all so short. It takes a long time for the float to make it down the street. A brass band and a few drums follow the float, providing the rhythm for the float's gentle swagger. About ten minutes later the procession is gone; or at least out of my sight. I can hear faint sounds of out of tune brass intstruments trumpeting Jesus's triumph over life as a mortal.
On a side note, I'm officially on vacation! I taught my last class today and have a week off for Semana Santa, or holy week. I'm headed up to Coban, to experience all the wonderful nature it has to offer. Also, I felt two earthquakes today! I was reading in the paper that people aren't supposed to be climbing Pacaya, one of the few active volcanoes here, because it has had some really strong activity lately. I think the two earthquakes today were connected to Pacaya. The whole house was shaking. Nothing broke or fell, but it did make me a little nervous because I wasn't quite up to date on earthquake safety protocol. You should stand in a doorway, in case you didn't know.
So yeah, that's what's shakin' round here! (oh, the pleasure of a cheesy pun!)
Peace out, y'all!
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
to fall or not to fall...
"And now, I'd like Jasmine to come up to the front of the church for prayer..."
What??? My head snaps to attention. I have been sitting in church for the past 2 hours, doing my best to understand what is going on because it is all in Spanish. My new friend, Ricky, brought me to church this past Sunday. He is very religious, as most Guatemalans are, so I decided to check out a Guatemalan Evangelical church with him. I thought I made it all the way through the service with no problems until I hear the pastor call me up for prayer. I don't have any problems with being prayed for, in fact, it was a sweet gesture. The pastor wanted to pray for my safety in Guatemala and for my soul. The whole church was super excited to see a gringa at their service so I couldn't really refuse prayer in front of the church. The one thing that crossed my mind however, was this: Do I have to fall over?
I have grown up in the church. I have seen a million different things happen in a church. However, this is the only church that I have ever attended where everyone falls over after they have been prayed for. The pastor had a great sermon...I now know that Zarza means bush in Spanish as the sermon was all about Moses and his standing before the burning bush in Exodus. When he did the altar call at the end about 20 people responded and went up for prayer. As the pastor went around and prayed for each person, I noticed that he kept praying for them until they fell over. I don't want to get into church theology in this blog, but traditionally, when someone falls over during prayer it is reffered to as being "slain in the spirit." It doesn't happen all the time or to everyone. When it does happen, it is real. That person really is in another state. However, at this church, it seemed like falling over was just the end of the prayer. Most of the people got up immediately after they hit the floor. I was watching this with much curiosity and then I hear my name and all of a sudden I am in front of the church ready to receive prayer.
I was a little nervous. For one, I haven't been to church for a while. Secondly, the pastor was talking to me in Spanish in front of everyone and I was trying so hard to understand him. Third, I kept having this thought running through my head, "Do I have to fall over?" The pastor starts praying for me, hand on my forehead. We started off at the stairs to the stage, him standing on the middle step and me on the floor. When the prayer was finished we were about 5 feet from the stage. As he was praying he kept pushing on my forehead...with force! I decided I wasn't going to just fall over to end the prayer. Needless to say, I kept stepping back because of the force of his hand on my forehead. It was hurting my back. The pastor kept on praying and praying for me. After what seemed like ages, I think he realized this gringa wasn't gonna fall over, so he quit praying. I actually wish I could talk to him about the whole situation in English.
Afterwards, a bunch of people came over to greet me. I am standing there, feeling like an idiot, doing my best to answer all the questions in Spanish. By the time I got home, my brain seriously hurt. I had Spanish brain...I had been hanging out with Ricky for 5 hours and doing all my communication in Spanish. It is so tiring after a while. That night, though, I actually had a dream in Spanish so I know my language learning is coming along quite nicely.
My church experience was actually really interesting. I got to meet the family of my friend and see his home. Being at this church reminded me a bit of my church back home and that was comforting. I am not writing this blog trying to dis any church or religion, just trying to relay how awkward my experience was.
Dios le bendiga!!
What??? My head snaps to attention. I have been sitting in church for the past 2 hours, doing my best to understand what is going on because it is all in Spanish. My new friend, Ricky, brought me to church this past Sunday. He is very religious, as most Guatemalans are, so I decided to check out a Guatemalan Evangelical church with him. I thought I made it all the way through the service with no problems until I hear the pastor call me up for prayer. I don't have any problems with being prayed for, in fact, it was a sweet gesture. The pastor wanted to pray for my safety in Guatemala and for my soul. The whole church was super excited to see a gringa at their service so I couldn't really refuse prayer in front of the church. The one thing that crossed my mind however, was this: Do I have to fall over?
I have grown up in the church. I have seen a million different things happen in a church. However, this is the only church that I have ever attended where everyone falls over after they have been prayed for. The pastor had a great sermon...I now know that Zarza means bush in Spanish as the sermon was all about Moses and his standing before the burning bush in Exodus. When he did the altar call at the end about 20 people responded and went up for prayer. As the pastor went around and prayed for each person, I noticed that he kept praying for them until they fell over. I don't want to get into church theology in this blog, but traditionally, when someone falls over during prayer it is reffered to as being "slain in the spirit." It doesn't happen all the time or to everyone. When it does happen, it is real. That person really is in another state. However, at this church, it seemed like falling over was just the end of the prayer. Most of the people got up immediately after they hit the floor. I was watching this with much curiosity and then I hear my name and all of a sudden I am in front of the church ready to receive prayer.
I was a little nervous. For one, I haven't been to church for a while. Secondly, the pastor was talking to me in Spanish in front of everyone and I was trying so hard to understand him. Third, I kept having this thought running through my head, "Do I have to fall over?" The pastor starts praying for me, hand on my forehead. We started off at the stairs to the stage, him standing on the middle step and me on the floor. When the prayer was finished we were about 5 feet from the stage. As he was praying he kept pushing on my forehead...with force! I decided I wasn't going to just fall over to end the prayer. Needless to say, I kept stepping back because of the force of his hand on my forehead. It was hurting my back. The pastor kept on praying and praying for me. After what seemed like ages, I think he realized this gringa wasn't gonna fall over, so he quit praying. I actually wish I could talk to him about the whole situation in English.
Afterwards, a bunch of people came over to greet me. I am standing there, feeling like an idiot, doing my best to answer all the questions in Spanish. By the time I got home, my brain seriously hurt. I had Spanish brain...I had been hanging out with Ricky for 5 hours and doing all my communication in Spanish. It is so tiring after a while. That night, though, I actually had a dream in Spanish so I know my language learning is coming along quite nicely.
My church experience was actually really interesting. I got to meet the family of my friend and see his home. Being at this church reminded me a bit of my church back home and that was comforting. I am not writing this blog trying to dis any church or religion, just trying to relay how awkward my experience was.
Dios le bendiga!!
caminando...
As the metal gate swings shut behind me, I step onto the sidewalk entering a different world, leaving the peace and quiet of my house behind me. It is 6:40 a.m. What is the first image to be stamped upon my memory each day? It is always different. Sometimes it is a rumbling bus flying down the road, black smoke billowing behind it. Other times it is a few uniformed school children waiting for the school bus. As of late, it has been a police officer or an armed guard holding some kind of a long barreled gun (a rifle, maybe?) There are officers of some sort guarding each bus stop in an effort to help prevent some of the crime in the city. On average about four bus drivers get shot in the city each day. This last week has been particularly violent.
As I continue my walk to school I pass neon uniformed traffic guards, attempting to quicken the flow of traffic. I pass truckfulls of people on their way to work. Vendors are setting up their stalls on the street. I see the same man setting up his pots of boiling water to sell his hot dogs. I see the same old women always dressed in flowing traditional skirt, nanny to a rich young boy, waiting on the corner with him until the bus comes. I pass the same young girl, cleaning the streets wearing her neon green vest with eyelids painted to match, lazily sweeping a wrapper or two with her orange broom. I also see the same older man with a round belly, wearing the same huge straw cowboy hat, scurrying down the street. The one other consistentcy of my morning walk are all the armed guards. Each business or place of residence will usually have an armed guard at the gate or entrance of the building. You would most likely be surprised to see that most of these guards are about 19 and are smaller than you! There are guards of all ages and sizes, but most are young. Every morning as I walk by, I get the same hisses and cat calls from the guards. Apparently it is common to be hissed at as you walk by, it is considered a compliment to your appearance. However, it gets annoying and a bit awkward. At first, I would smile and say hello each morning thinking, "I better say good morning to the guys with the guns..." Then, as I realized this only encouraged more noisemaking, I quit. What do you say when a guy with a gun asks you out on a date? =o) That hasn't happened to me yet (as far as my spanish skills can tell), but I have been wondering what the appropriate response should be.
Combine all these consistancies with a ton of traffic, people waiting for the bus, lots of horns honking, dirt, dust, and a cool morning chill in the air and you have my daily morning walk to school.
It is hard to believe that I am teaching classes at 7 a.m. It hasn't seemed like a chore to be getting up so early and I quite enjoy my mornings. Come to think of it, I actually enjoy my afternoons and evenings as well. After my morning classes at school I head to the gym, then head home for a nice lunch and a swing in the hammock. I head back to school for another class or two and then head home once again, usually after a stop at the vegetable market, and cook dinner with my friends. I have to say I really have been enjoying myself here.
On Sunday I hung out with a Guatemalan friend that I had made. We were riding on his moto and we passed a sign that said, "Which is better, your dreams or your reality?" As a joke he asked me which one I thought was better. I said both, because I am making my dreams a reality. I was thinking about that today, while having a lovely swing in the hammock. It is refreshing and empowering all at once when you realize you are making your dreams a reality. It makes you feel alive.
So, for anyone reading this who is thinking about making a big change in life...just go for it!!! You won't regret it.
As I continue my walk to school I pass neon uniformed traffic guards, attempting to quicken the flow of traffic. I pass truckfulls of people on their way to work. Vendors are setting up their stalls on the street. I see the same man setting up his pots of boiling water to sell his hot dogs. I see the same old women always dressed in flowing traditional skirt, nanny to a rich young boy, waiting on the corner with him until the bus comes. I pass the same young girl, cleaning the streets wearing her neon green vest with eyelids painted to match, lazily sweeping a wrapper or two with her orange broom. I also see the same older man with a round belly, wearing the same huge straw cowboy hat, scurrying down the street. The one other consistentcy of my morning walk are all the armed guards. Each business or place of residence will usually have an armed guard at the gate or entrance of the building. You would most likely be surprised to see that most of these guards are about 19 and are smaller than you! There are guards of all ages and sizes, but most are young. Every morning as I walk by, I get the same hisses and cat calls from the guards. Apparently it is common to be hissed at as you walk by, it is considered a compliment to your appearance. However, it gets annoying and a bit awkward. At first, I would smile and say hello each morning thinking, "I better say good morning to the guys with the guns..." Then, as I realized this only encouraged more noisemaking, I quit. What do you say when a guy with a gun asks you out on a date? =o) That hasn't happened to me yet (as far as my spanish skills can tell), but I have been wondering what the appropriate response should be.
Combine all these consistancies with a ton of traffic, people waiting for the bus, lots of horns honking, dirt, dust, and a cool morning chill in the air and you have my daily morning walk to school.
It is hard to believe that I am teaching classes at 7 a.m. It hasn't seemed like a chore to be getting up so early and I quite enjoy my mornings. Come to think of it, I actually enjoy my afternoons and evenings as well. After my morning classes at school I head to the gym, then head home for a nice lunch and a swing in the hammock. I head back to school for another class or two and then head home once again, usually after a stop at the vegetable market, and cook dinner with my friends. I have to say I really have been enjoying myself here.
On Sunday I hung out with a Guatemalan friend that I had made. We were riding on his moto and we passed a sign that said, "Which is better, your dreams or your reality?" As a joke he asked me which one I thought was better. I said both, because I am making my dreams a reality. I was thinking about that today, while having a lovely swing in the hammock. It is refreshing and empowering all at once when you realize you are making your dreams a reality. It makes you feel alive.
So, for anyone reading this who is thinking about making a big change in life...just go for it!!! You won't regret it.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
chicken eye...
I ordered chicken eye the other day at lunch. It was an accident, obviously. I was trying to order chicken with garlic, pollo con ajo, but instead I asked for pollo con ojo. I thought it was pretty funny.
On this same day I also saw a dog walking down the road carrying a dead dog's head in its mouth.
There's always something happening in Guatemala.
On this same day I also saw a dog walking down the road carrying a dead dog's head in its mouth.
There's always something happening in Guatemala.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
chicken bus trip
Imagine waking up one morning at 5:30 a.m. to the sound of fireworks exploding right outside your window. Once the crackling ceases, a cheesy version of Happy Birthday ,that sounds like a mix of an 80's Wonder Bread commercial with a few members of the Brady Bunch thrown in, starts blasting from your speakers. As you rub your eyes awake, pull on your jeans, and stumble down the stairs in a sleepy stupor your friends await you at the bottom, groggy yet bright eyed and clapping you into your birthday. Sounds like the ideal way to start your day, right?
Well, that was me this morning. It's not my birthday today, but I got the pleasure of being a groggy clapper this morning for my neighbor Joe. Apparently this is celebratory tradition for Guatemalans on their birthday. Joe isn't Guatemalan, but his girlfriend is and she planned this grand awakening for him. So as the roosters were coaxing the sun's slow ascent over the mountains in the horizon, I was drinking fresh coffee and eating a breakfast of fresh cut fruit, fried eggs and tortillas covered in chipotle sauce with my friends. Although early and probably not the most appealing birthday morning, it was a great way to start the day!
I am happy to say that my living situation here in Guatemala is pretty great. I have a beautiful house with a great view. When the gate to my house closes behind me I don't even feel like I'm living on a dusty and busy road. My housemate and I get along well and my neighbors, also co-workers, are really awesome! We all get together and cook, making each night feel like a dinner party. I like the feeling of community there is among us all.
Since I've been here I have spent most of my time working, with a few little excursions here and there. I've been bowling, attended (and lost) a night of Texas Hold-em at a friend's house with a beautiful view of the city, walked around a little bit, and have been out to a few bars. This past weekend was my first time out of the city. It was wonderful! Until this past weekend I had only heard about the beauty of Guatemala, now I've had a chance to see a little of it!
My co-worker, Andrea, and I headed out of the city to experience the wonders of Lago Atitlan, or Lake Atitlan. We traveled there via "Chicken Bus." I'm not really sure where the name of the bus originated, but from what I can tell, a Chicken Bus is an old school bus painted with really bright colors. Somewhere on the bus you will find a picture of Jesus or the words "JesusCristo" written on them. People sit three across with one tiny aisle in between. When all six people actually sit in the row the aisle disappears and it becomes extremely crowded. Also, I don't think you need to be at the bus terminal to be picked up. Our bus stopped anytime someone was on the road waving the bus down. We would be speeding down the highway, rounding a curve, and the bus would skid to a stop, jerking everyone forward. The journey was beautiful, with roads that curved around the three volcanoes that surround the lake. The ride was one of contrasts, the bus blasting along the roads paying little attention to the steep dropoff less than six inches to my right; and the bus creeping through small Mayan towns, roads so narrow that you can practically touch the people standing on the street.
Our final destination, Santiago Atitlan, is a small Mayan city tucked between two volcanoes, Toliman and San Pedro. The city was host to Festival Atitlan, a music festival a.k.a "hippy festival." Andrea and I picked up our friend Lily from the dock and headed off to the festival, the reason for our journey. The action took place in a pine grove just outside of town. A small stage was set up with an area for dancing in front. People were sprawled out on the grass basking in the sun or seeking shade beneath the pine trees. Local artisans were selling their wares and some amazing food and drinks were being served. There were bands from noon to midnight from all genres: blu grass, folk, funk, reggae, salsa, ska, rock, and blues...etc There was also a really amazing piece of spoken word performed, which I was happy to hear. I met a few really cool people at the festival. Night and day were spent chillin, listening to the music, and chatting with people. I didn't take any pictures this weekend, but I will post some from Andrea's camera.
I headed to San Pedro after the festival. I spent the morning there eating breakfast basking in the sunshine and the breathtaking view of the volcanoes and the lake. I took a boat across the lake to Panajachel. Panajachel is really touristy and the "hub" of most activities that happen around the lake. I spent the afternoon exploring and relaxing by the lake, watching locals swim and eat together. Late afternoon found us smooshed on the Chicken Bus, speeding towards home. I arrived home dusty and exhausted, cheeks red from the sun.
I definitely feel refreshed after my weekend away from the city. I'm looking forward to exploring more of the country whenever I have the chance. I have five days off in April. I'm thinking about heading up to Coban or maybe Mexico. Anyone wanna come visit me? I'd love to have a travel buddy!
Well, that was me this morning. It's not my birthday today, but I got the pleasure of being a groggy clapper this morning for my neighbor Joe. Apparently this is celebratory tradition for Guatemalans on their birthday. Joe isn't Guatemalan, but his girlfriend is and she planned this grand awakening for him. So as the roosters were coaxing the sun's slow ascent over the mountains in the horizon, I was drinking fresh coffee and eating a breakfast of fresh cut fruit, fried eggs and tortillas covered in chipotle sauce with my friends. Although early and probably not the most appealing birthday morning, it was a great way to start the day!
I am happy to say that my living situation here in Guatemala is pretty great. I have a beautiful house with a great view. When the gate to my house closes behind me I don't even feel like I'm living on a dusty and busy road. My housemate and I get along well and my neighbors, also co-workers, are really awesome! We all get together and cook, making each night feel like a dinner party. I like the feeling of community there is among us all.
Since I've been here I have spent most of my time working, with a few little excursions here and there. I've been bowling, attended (and lost) a night of Texas Hold-em at a friend's house with a beautiful view of the city, walked around a little bit, and have been out to a few bars. This past weekend was my first time out of the city. It was wonderful! Until this past weekend I had only heard about the beauty of Guatemala, now I've had a chance to see a little of it!
My co-worker, Andrea, and I headed out of the city to experience the wonders of Lago Atitlan, or Lake Atitlan. We traveled there via "Chicken Bus." I'm not really sure where the name of the bus originated, but from what I can tell, a Chicken Bus is an old school bus painted with really bright colors. Somewhere on the bus you will find a picture of Jesus or the words "JesusCristo" written on them. People sit three across with one tiny aisle in between. When all six people actually sit in the row the aisle disappears and it becomes extremely crowded. Also, I don't think you need to be at the bus terminal to be picked up. Our bus stopped anytime someone was on the road waving the bus down. We would be speeding down the highway, rounding a curve, and the bus would skid to a stop, jerking everyone forward. The journey was beautiful, with roads that curved around the three volcanoes that surround the lake. The ride was one of contrasts, the bus blasting along the roads paying little attention to the steep dropoff less than six inches to my right; and the bus creeping through small Mayan towns, roads so narrow that you can practically touch the people standing on the street.
Our final destination, Santiago Atitlan, is a small Mayan city tucked between two volcanoes, Toliman and San Pedro. The city was host to Festival Atitlan, a music festival a.k.a "hippy festival." Andrea and I picked up our friend Lily from the dock and headed off to the festival, the reason for our journey. The action took place in a pine grove just outside of town. A small stage was set up with an area for dancing in front. People were sprawled out on the grass basking in the sun or seeking shade beneath the pine trees. Local artisans were selling their wares and some amazing food and drinks were being served. There were bands from noon to midnight from all genres: blu grass, folk, funk, reggae, salsa, ska, rock, and blues...etc There was also a really amazing piece of spoken word performed, which I was happy to hear. I met a few really cool people at the festival. Night and day were spent chillin, listening to the music, and chatting with people. I didn't take any pictures this weekend, but I will post some from Andrea's camera.
I headed to San Pedro after the festival. I spent the morning there eating breakfast basking in the sunshine and the breathtaking view of the volcanoes and the lake. I took a boat across the lake to Panajachel. Panajachel is really touristy and the "hub" of most activities that happen around the lake. I spent the afternoon exploring and relaxing by the lake, watching locals swim and eat together. Late afternoon found us smooshed on the Chicken Bus, speeding towards home. I arrived home dusty and exhausted, cheeks red from the sun.
I definitely feel refreshed after my weekend away from the city. I'm looking forward to exploring more of the country whenever I have the chance. I have five days off in April. I'm thinking about heading up to Coban or maybe Mexico. Anyone wanna come visit me? I'd love to have a travel buddy!
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