Guatemala City to San Marcos...

I finally got to Guatemala (City) Tuesday morning and spent most of the day missing my friends from the plane adventure & feeling a little sorry for myself, helped along by the incessant rain. That evening I ventured out of my room and ended up having a long talk with Isabel, the owner of the hotel. We talked about Mayan history, why Guatemala is the best country in Central America, our children, and so many other topics I can hardly remember. It is always intriguing to me to get different takes on history; according to Isabel, the 40-year violence in Guatemala was a matter of some Mayans fighting others and nothing more. I also found it interesting what while she very much cherishes and values Mayan traditions, she has many negative opinions about present day Mayans. When I quietly broached the matter of US involvement in the violence, she tentatively agreed with me and then proceeded to discuss very freely how US influence has caused the deterioration of Guatamalteco culture and economic viability. It seemed clear to me that she needed to know where I stood before she dared to share her opinion. I find it a fascinating and familiar phenomenon to recognize that I am hearing certain things for the second, third, or fourth time without remembering the first time; it’s as though, having committed myself to learning about something-in this case Guatemala-I am now absorbing information by osmosis. An example of this is the Mayan calendar. Isabel told me that the Mayan calendar ends in 2012, signifying either the end of the world or a profound reordering. I had heard this quite recently, but Isabel elaborated. She said (more or less) the Mayans foretold that we would cause such destruction to our planet through destruction of the environment, violence against the disempowered, and not recognizing the sanctity of life (my translation to English) that it would be necessary to start over again. A relevant website:
Yesterday morning at the hotel I met a man named Daniel from the States who decided, after an hour of conversation, to travel to Atitlán with me. We left Guatemala (City) at 11:00 and have hardly stopped talking since. We both seem to have a great need to share our stories, both recent and past, and to process where we are in our lives. We have discovered that we have so much in common that it would take pages to go into those details.
We reached Pana (or Panajachel or Gringotenango) at 3:30 yesterday and had lunch at a small restaurant overlooking the lake. Although I had looked forward to this adventure on my own, it was comforting and reassuring to have a new friend with whom to venture forth and (I am ashamed to admit) help schlep my bags, made heavy by many books.
After exploration and more conversation, Daniel and I found lodging with the help of two 14-year-old entrepreneurs named Jose and Juan and agreed this morning when we met up that, while we liked to think of ourselves as intrepid souls, we would like luxuries such as mirrors, toilet paper, non leaky toilets, towels, no whining dog locked up in a shed next to my room, and (my top priority) a bedside lamp. We also agreed that we were spoiled enough to want real coffee and real milk for breakfast instead of instant coffee and dry milk. Internet access is not a possibility at any of the hotels, so I am training myself to write my messages and reports in my room and then going across the road to the internet place periodically.
Note: I will do my best to answer everyone’s e-mail, but there will be more lag time as a result of this arrangement.
We have ended up for the time being at a wonderful place called Pace Real that has beautiful gardens and a variety of cottages and bungalows set among trees. As a result, the cost of lodging has risen from $7 each last night to about $10 each. I found my spot right away – an upstairs A-frame room with a loft called Luna de Miel (honeymoon), a sleeping loft, and a lovely porch covered by a thatched roof that feels like a tree house. I am sitting there now listening to the rain which has started again after a respite this morning. Daniel took a while to decide before he chose his room – Arriba (above) on the first floor. Go figure. My room does not have a shower, so he will share (separately).
Our Spanish has suffered through spending so much time together, but it has been a wonderful companionship and mutual support. He schleps bags, chats people up even better than I do, and calculates currency conversions while I have been translating, buying water for us, finding out when la lancha (the boat) leaves, and giving him Spanish study websites. I think each of us feels we are getting the better end of the bargain, which is reassuring. And of course there’s the talking, which has continued. This morning at breakfast, where we split an omelet and DID get our real coffee with real milk and watched various hummingbirds- one of which was the approximate size and color of a small robin-I suggested that it was as though we were stranded on a desert island and were trying to tell our stories as quickly as possible before the ship came to rescue us. His response: “Well, we could go hide.” I will miss him when he leaves.
San Marcos is a small and magical place, a soggy paradise. Most of the pueblo is inaccessible by car, and people get around on narrow cobblestone paths through the tropical forest. Last night as we sat and talked, we could hear chanting from a charismatic church service, birds and crickets calling, and an occasional dog barking. We have the sense that we are at the end of the world.
The rain is so heavy that the kids have not been to school all week and will not go back until next Monday.
I have met some of the teachers at the language school where I may teach, and one of them was mercilessly corrected my Spanish. I told her she would get her payback when I started teaching English!
Saturday I will go to the university to observe the teacher training and talk with the people there about the possibility of working with them. Right now that is my lowest priority; I am more drawn to either staying here and working with the Spanish school or going to Antigua to work with Patrick, the man I mentioned earlier. Next week I will go there to the Congreso on human trafficking and meet with Patrick to talk about possibilities. He has already told me he can put me to work teaching English.