Have you ever been lost on a Volcano?

Well, you wouldn´t be alone!

Actually, in the end we weren´t actually lost. But for the last hour of our 4 hour descent, we were absolutely convinced we had taken a wrong turn half way down and were headed in the wrong direction to an unknown town. We have still never used a telephone nor did we really know if we would actually be able to get in touch with the guide company that we´d taken for the trip. (yeah, our guide was somewhere behind us with the last few of our 8 person group.)

Oh, and we tried with relative success to ask a farmer on the mountain if he had seen any gringos pass by earlier. Despite his saying yes (plus lots of other things we might have understood), from the description it sounded like another group on the mountain that day.....feeding the lostness...

It´s now 5:05pm and we just got dropped back off at the school just a bit late (we were supposed to be done at 1pm!).

We´re COMPLETELY EXHAUSTED and pretty dirty. (picture at least a 45 degree incline the entire way, lots of boulder hopping, LOTS of mud on washed out trails...and it rained most of the way down)

We´re headed home to shower (we were told there´s only hot water early in the mornings and late at night...sweet!) and then to meet our fellow moutain climbing friends for dinner.

More on this later...

"The Terrible Two's"

We met this incredibly interesting young women here in Xela who is an anthropology major at Stanford University; I believe her name was Julia. So, Julia explained to us that children who are developing their language skills often know what they want to say well before they can actually say it. This explains why children who have entered their "terrible two's" tend to act out. They just can't communicate to those around them and they are frustrated. Hmmm.... OK, fast forward 28 years, add one Spanish language immersion, and only two weeks of classes. Hey, wait a second...

This week I changed teachers and started fresh with a new maestra. Her name is Miriam and she would be the ideal character for the reality TV show Nanny 911--Xela. Picture Mary Poppins, got it? OK, now think shorter, stockier, more strict, and with a thick Guatemalan accent. Love her.

Monday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We covered regular verbs, irregular verbs, prepositions, interrogatives, and much more. My head was spinning; I desperately tried to absorb, process, and regurgitate all the information correctly. Needless to say, it was muy dificil. She gave me about two more hours of homework and sent me on my way.

Tuesday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We covered contractions, sentence structure, gender of articles, and much more. At one point, we took a break so that she could go to el baño. To avoid wasting one second of instruction time, Miriam RAN across the courtyard to the bathroom and ran back. The woman was a machine. Once again, I tried to absorb, process, and regurgitate all the information correctly. She gave me about three hours of homework and sent me on my way.

Wednesday morning, Miriam and I started at 8:00 am on the dot without wasting any time. We tried to cover reflexive verbs, adjectives, and vocabulary. Miriam sensed that I was a little overwhelmed and she quickly changed the plan for the day. I was going to work on pronunciation. She asked me to read a few paragraphs to her. At first I did well, but slowly my mind couldn't distinguish between English and Spanish pronunciation and finally I found myself stuck at the word contribuye. It was so difficult to read that I completely stopped at the word. On my first attempt I completely butchered the pronunciation. Miriam giggled and asked me to try again. No luck, butchered again. She slowly read the word to me and I desperately contorted my mouth and tongue to create the correct sequence in Spanish, but with no avail. I had actually lost the ability to speak. And in my regression found myself turning red, holding my breath, clenching my fists, and wanting to cry out. I was trying so hard. I knew what I wanted to say, but just couldn't do it!

Miriam, being the excellent teacher that she is, asked me if I wanted to take a walk. Wow! I must have really looked frustrated to compel Miriam to waste any class time. She went to the office grabbed a book and we walked to the park nearby. When we reached the park, Miriam pulled out the book for me to use. At first, I thought she may have been kidding, but when I saw her face, I knew this was no joke. The book was very small and the pages were made of thick corrugated cardboard. The words were written in brilliant colors and the letters must have been at least a 20 point font. Each page had one letter of the alphabet and four words to demonstrate the sound of that particular letter. It was one step away from being one of those waterproof books that babies can bring in the bath with them. I spent the next hour, at Miriam's insistence, practicing the pronunciation of the letters of the alphabet. As I read the letters aloud, I couldn't help but wonder what the other people in the park were thinking. The thought was so amusing that I wanted to laugh so badly, but didn't for fear of upsetting my no-nonsense teacher. There I was, 30 years old, reading the alphabet in the middle of a public park in Xela. I have had many humbling experiences during our travels, but this was absolutely hilarious.

I hope I take away a very important lesson from Julia and my experience with learning a new language. When Robert and I do become parents some day, I hope we recognize that there will be many times that our children will be just as frustrated trying to communicate with us as we are with them. I would love to hear more opinions from the many new and experienced parents that read our blog.

Best,

Humbled in Guatemala

Feliz Neuva Año!!

Quetzeltanango, Guatemala, the city we now call home, is located in the Western Highlands of Guatemala, almost four hours due east of the capital, Guatemala City. Primarily known by its Mayan name of Xela (shay-la), the city and highlands area are home to a significant Mayan population -- well over 50%. We're slowly learning bits and pieces of the rich history of the city, region and country. It's quite fascinating really. Particularly the part about the 36 year civil war that ended in 1996, the history of agriculture exports, all seeming to be under the strong "influence" of US foreign policy inthe area. We saw at least a dozen books in a book store yesterday about the CIA's presence in Guatemala alone...there are lots of stories of US backing of various militia and guerilla groups. Okay, so we have a lot to learn and it's happening slowly but surely...little bits here and there from our teachers or from the weekly "conferencias" (lectures). We will continue to share...

But back to the New Year!!

On Monday, July 17 the Mayan New Year began. Our school celebrated the occasion with a traditional Mayan ceremony, complete with decorations around the school. Classes ended early in the morning, making time for the 2 hour ceremony that was performed by four Mayan priests. It was a fascinating experience. Greta, the student coordinator at our school (she's from somewhere in the states), translated the majority of the ceremony.

Mayan years are based around a calendar of 260 days, which are divided into 13 day segments that each represent one of 20 dieties (here are the names thanks to wikipedia). We all gathered around a makeshift fire ring out in a garden area behind the school. We took lots of pictures throughout to at least capture images if we can't remember all of the ceremonial aspects! It started with the priests slowly building the fire with various (flamable) objects, each with a special significance: sugar, flowers, multiple colored candles (lots of candles), charcoal, chocolate, candies, tobacco, and a few other things.


Once the fire was lit, the ceremony celebrated each of the 20 dieties with a special chant followed by offerings (candles tossed into the flames) by those in attendance. As you will see from the pictures, the pyro in me came out and I started to become a bit mezmorized by the fire. It was a very peaceful ceremony -- giving thanks to the air, earth, wind and water and all that they allow in our lives. Sure, it's quite different than what we were used to on Sunday mornings at Government Street Presbyterian or St. Patrick's (it was in a different language and around a big fire with "offerings"), but in many ways it felt familiar as there were common themes to be celebrated.


Click here for the entire set of pictures from the ceremony. Enjoy!

Lost in translation?

Translate this hilarious sign below and win a prize...



*prize to be disclosed at a later date

What's White and Red and Consumed All Over....

COKE!

 

Soda consumption in Xela is completely unimaginable.  And it's not just Coke.  Remember Fanta? Orange Crush? Yeah, me neither.  I thought it had lost its place in the current soda market.  Nope, I was wrong.  It is here in Xela and prospering.

 

Today, we went to a soccer game to watch the local team play an exhibition match.  It was so much fun to sit in the stands with the locals and cheer for Xelaju.  But, as I looked around I couldn't help but be distracted by the number of people sucking down 32 oz containers of soda.  It led me to wonder-- what is the rate of tooth decay and bone fractures in children in Guatemala?  Right, I know, but I AM a Dietitian.  So, I did a little research and found this little quote.  I intend to look into this matter further, but thought I would share this for now.

 

 

"If the cultural, health and economic problems with Coke's colonization of Latin America weren't bad enough, it also has a labor record that puts even most other multinational companies to shame. In Guatemala and Colombia, there is strong evidence that the Coca-Cola company actively supported the murders of union activists by paramilitary members at bottling plants run by its subsidiaries and contractors over the years. In Mexico, El Salvador and other countries there have also been ample allegations of the company using paramilitary strength to prevent unionizing and keep employees in line.

In 2001, Human Rights Watch (HRW) and the United Auto Workers (UAW) filed a lawsuit against Coke for the murder of union activist Isidro Gil Segundo and an ongoing campaign of intimidation, terror, murder and paramilitary activity against union members and leaders. Across the board, Coke and its Latin American bottling partners, including Panamco and Bebidas y Alimentos, have waged vicious anti-union campaigns and been accused of rampant illegal labor practices, intimidation techniques, unfair firings and physical attacks.

... Today, Coca-Cola plainly stands as an unvarnished symbol of neoliberalism and modern corporate mercantilism. It is, plainly said, a multinational corporation exploiting cheap labor and "emerging markets," that employs an array of illegal and criminal business "strategies," and utilizes powerful public relations, marketing and lobbying powers to avoid accountability and fatten the company's profits just as its product fattens its consumers."

— Kari Lydersen, Sugar and Blood: Coke in Latin America, Lip Magazine, 28 May 2002

¿Tu quieres morir?

(I think I just threatened to kill our host mother!)

After that first day of unfortunate experiences, things have already started to turn around.

We had Wednesday morning to get settled into our new surroundings before starting classes in the afternoon. We took a nice walk through Parque Central in the brisk morning air (more on this later) before making our way to a bookstore. Well stocked and connected to a cute cafe, we loaded up on some fundamentals: a new Lonely Planet guidebook to Central America (yes, the same one we left in the states), a used book on Guatemalan history and culture, two notebooks for class, and a few stacks of flashcards. It was only 11am and the day was going well!

We walked back through the park and saw that the infamous cafe was finally open. We entered with our prepared statement...

Encontras una toalla ayer? (Do you find a towel yesterday? We haven´t made it to past tense yet.)

Of course, our question prompted a response. We understood little, but nodded along incessantly after hearing "black" bag thrown in at some point. We looked desperate and threw in some charades to show where we´d been sitting the day before. It seemed to be working! The nice woman went behind the counter and made a quick telephone call, then returned with our lost black bag. Minnie was found!

On to school...

Classes are Monday - Friday of one-on-one instruction for five hours per day. Because the school was maxed out in the mornings with over 50 students, we had afternoon classes from 2-7pm for the first two days. They have been excellent so far, and they certainly weren´t kidding when they billed this as an immersion experience. Both of our teachers are extremely nice and welcoming, but they don´t speak a lick of English! If I understood my teacher, Carmen, correctly on that first day (not a certainty) , the school intentionally seeks teachers that do NOT speak English. It was a bit shocking on the first day, but we have come to appreciate it more and more. It´s truly amazing how far we have come after only three days.

But let´s make sure to put this in context...

We´ve only been here THREE DAYS and we had virtually no Spanish background (none at all for Liz and only 3 touch college semesters for me years ago). So learning even the most basic round of questions and key vocabulary has helped immensely, particularly with mealtime conversations. But we are also still relegated to the present tense, our pronunciation needs serious work, and clearly we need to spend more time with the flashcards. Hence, the title of the post.

As our vocabulary and comfort levels increase, we use our mealtime conversations with Martha (reminder: she doesn´t speak English either) as testing ground for our new material. So today, after spending some time with the flashcards in the morning, we decided we were ready to bring out our photo album after lunch. It went something like this...

Roberto: Nosotros tenemos pictures (in my best Spanish accent)
Martha: (blank look)
Roberto & Liz: (switching into charades mode, start pointing at pictures on the wall) Picture? ... Picture?
Martha: Ah, fotos!
Roberto: Si. Si. Fotos! Lo siento. Nosotros tenemos fotos de nuestra casa y familias en el cuarto. (We have pictures of our house and families in our bedroom.)
Martha: Ah, bueno!
(Success! But then Disaster...)
Roberto: Tu quieres morir?
Martha: (brilliantly blue shadowed eyes grow large with look of concern) Morir?!?
Liz: No! No! No morir, mirar!
Roberto: Lo siento! Lo siento! Tu quieres mirar?

mirar = to see
morir = to die!

Whoops! I guess it´s time to study the flashcards again!

Luckily, it led to a great conversation with Martha. After seeing the few pictures we had, she pulled out hundreds of family pictures to share with us. It was nice learning more about her family and her past.

All in all, we had a great afternoon...until the battles of intestinal fortitude interrupted. We´ll save that for later...

Bienvenidos a Xela!

Some thoughts from last night...

 

July 11, 2006

9:15pm

 

Our first full day is officially ending as we´ve returned to our humble little room and climbed into bed.  We had a much needed conversation and are beginning to find words to articulate just what we are experiencing.

 

In the summer of 1999, after my Sophomore year at Rhodes, I took a trip halfway around the world to the small yet infamous country of Nepal.  About ten days into my trip, as I was desperately trying to rescue my mind and body from depression, isolation and generally being overwhelmed, I made myself a promise -- one that would ultimately help turn that trip into an overwhelmingly positive life-changing experience.

 

I promised myself that no matter how far I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone -- no matter how utterly overwhelming those first 10 days had been in Nepal as I struggled with the harsh reality of third world poverty -- as my worldview was being shattered with each passing moment in ways even the most eloquent authors and guidebooks could not prepare me for...

 

I promised myself that I would not back down.  I would not let my fear and discomfort in those circumstances force me back into my shell.  I would hold my head up, keep my eyes wide open, and seize the day.

 

But more than that, I promised myself to be intentional and reflective about what I was feeling.  I wanted to particularly remember the struggles, mentally and emotionally, that I felt were strong enough to qualify (at least in grandiose writing) as worldview shattering.  Because I knew there was great potential to look back on those first 10 days at the end of all 60 and think they weren´t all that difficult -- that I was overreacting and simply a naive, wealthy, privileged, white American who couldn´t grasp *real* poverty.  I wanted to remember my struggles and let them remain active in my memory.

 

I say all of this because this first full day in Guatemala has forced me to recall and renew that promise I made 7 short years ago.  I´m still a wealthy, privileged, white American, though hopefully a little less naive.  And now I find myself in a similar situation.  I´m overwhelmed once again by life -- my own and most certainly those of my new neighbors.  I´m saddened and fascinated, scared and empowered.  I´m struggling to cope and just trying to let it all soak in.

 

There´s no doubt that the intensity and weight of this trip was put into hyper-speed after a slightly rough start.  The night before we left the states we realized our water purifier didn´t work -- no big deal.  We arrive at our bed & breakfast in Guatemala City after smooth flights only to realize we´d left our one and only travel guide in the States -- how silly of us.  We get up today, made the 4 1/2 hour bumpy bus ride to Xela and taxied straight to Celas Maya (our school) where, in the process of paying the taxi fare, I managed to "lose" my wallet (driver´s license, credit cards, US cash, freshly changed quetzales...even some Jamaican honeymoon money) -- a sincere inconvenience to say the least, but the careful pre-planning meant copies of the cards at least made it easy to call and cancel.  This was a larger bump because it was much more personal, and I can´t say for sure if it happened due to sheer stupidity and my dropping the wallet in the back seat of the taxi, or if the two kids who immediately walked by as we exited the taxi and took care of our luggage managed to work their magic and take my property.  Neither thought is settling, but I´ll live with both.  If that weren´t enough, Liz and I took an afternoon stroll to buy bath towels and wander the city.  It was nice -- particularly the part with the chocolate con leche that was to die for! (be jealous Peter) -- but we got home to realize that we´d somehow managed to "lose" the pink Minnie Mouse toalla Liz excitedly chose from the small fabric store.  She´d put it in her backpack and possibly pulled it out in the cafe (where we´ll check when they open).  That was like a final punch in the gut -- a kick after we were already down and crying.

 

These experiences and stories are already very real -- more so than we´d hoped for in ONE DAY!  But we have clean drinking water, will find a used travel guide or continue writing our own, have the money and credit cards Liz was carrying, and we can share a single towel for the time being.

 

The second half of my seven year old promise was this -- if and when I took another trip that would be as challenging, I wanted to share the experience with someone else.  Luckily, and best of all, Liz and I have each other to get through these experiences one day at a time.

 

Here´s to better days!

 

Hasta mañana,

Roberto

Mornings in Xela

So yesterday was not an ideal start to our time here in Xela. But, today is a new day and our morning was quite a success. I am learning to celebrate little accomplishments that I have certainly taken for granted. For example, showering.

Our host Mother, Martha, is a wonderful older woman who lives less than one minute away from the school. She speaks very little English and that coupled with our Spanish proficiency can make for long awkward silence during meals. Although Martha is considered middle class in Xela, it is a far cry from my understanding of middle class in the United States. However, she takes great pride in her appearance. She is about 5 feet tall. Her hair is a beautiful salt and pepper color and her make-up, including brilliant blue eye shadow, is perfectly applied. She wears exquisite gold rings on all of her well-manicured fingers and her dress is always very neat. Her home, albeit very modest, is impeccably clean. Robert and I share her 6 room home in the heart of Zona 1. The layout of the house is very interesting. As you enter the house, you are in what appears to be a storage area. As you continue through the entrance way, the living area is straight ahead. You can take a left to enter our bedroom or a right to Martha´s. Most interesting, is that in order to enter the bathroom or kitchen you must walk across a small courtyard, where the only sink is located. Hence, the difficulty in showering. I needed to cross the courtyard in the brisk morning (without warm clothes), shower, and get back to our room. My next challenge.

Our travel alarm clock rang at 6am. I swiftly jumped out of bed from under the toasty covers and pulled a sweatshirt over my night gown and put on a pair of capri pants. (very cute visual!) I grabbed our community towel and headed across the courtyard. No problem.

I entered the bathroom where all toilet paper and feminine hygiene products must be disposed of in the waste basket. I entered the curtained shower area and began to derobe--leaving my sandals on. (it was like freshman year all over). This was a piece of cake. So, I turned the knobs to start the water flow and desperately watched two drops slowly fall to the ground. No agua! Why did I volunteer to shower first?

I reclothed and found Martha and in my limited Spanish exclaimed, "No Agua!" She smiled knowingly and led me back to el bano. There she grabbed a box of matches off of the water tank, walked to a box on the wall, and lit what appeared to be the equivalent of a pilot light on a stove. She then smiled and went into the area with the toilet and turned a valve to the left.(ah! a main water source!). Finally, she turned the knobs and glorious streams of hot water poured out of the shower head. I finished my shower and treked back to our room; I was perfectly content with the outcome of my first daily task. Hmmm, now I had to brush my teeth.

Well that was easy!

We thought it would take a 5 month jaunt in Central America to cleanse our minds and bodies in search of the Simple Life.

But who knew that it was all waiting just around the corner from my sister in good ole' Atlanta, GA. Sure enough, we could be living the "simple life" Paris and Nicole style in beautiful Candler Park and not have bothered with 5 months of details.

We debated our options only to realize our tickets were non-refundable. Maybe next season we'll join in. But for now, we'll leave the Simple Life to the feuding duo and keep working on our pilot for a Central American spin-off of "Till Death Do Us Part".

We're off to live the Simple Life

No really, we're not kidding...

These are our lives in backpacks:

- Three pants
- two shorts
- three shirts
- two long sleeve shirts
- few tank tops
- fleece
- few socks and underwear
- one dress (for Liz)
- swimsuit
- raincoat
- umbrella
- keens (+ foot deoderant for Bert)
- sneakers
- LOTS of tampons
- deet-filled bug spray & mosquito net (PROTECTION)
- condoms (even more protection...keep waiting Ian)
- water purifier (cutting edge stuff...unless it DOESN'T WORK!!!)
- medications & medical stuff (yes, we're prepared for the inevitable intestinal warfare)
- hat
- sun glasses
- books
- travel guide
- camera
- journal(s)

Things that didn't make the cut:

- house
- car
- computer
- cell phone
- ipod
- PDA
- wedding ring
- straight iron ( I hear frizzy hair is all the rage in Guatemala)
- Liz's 6 other pair of shoes
- half the underwear (thanks for the tip, Tim)
- few shirts and shorts (don't worry, Bama love will be spread)
- calming body lotion (what do we have to be stressed out about...we're unemployed!)


So here we lie in bed on this, our last night in the country for over 5 months. We have the expected feelings: excitement, anxiety, love, irritability ("Bert, it's LATE"), freedom, liberation, fulfillment, love ("seriously Robert, we have to be up at 5am"), and did I mention irritability? ;-)

You get the point!

What's next? Good question. Stay tuned...

We've ESCAPED!

At least from New York.

We're enjoying a week of family in the mountains of western NC before heading out next Monday, July 10 to Guatemala. Our minds are slowly accepting what our bodies have been craving -- some good ole' fashion R&R!

While in many ways the trip seems surreal, it is increasingly real with each passing thought. It's slowly sinking in -- what we've been talking about and planning for the past two years we are now living. This isn't just our annual trip to Montreat for 4th of July celebrations, but the beginning of a life altering adventure.

We have surprisingly few expectations and pre-conceived notions of what to expect on this journey. Sure, we've read the guidebooks and scoured the internet for tidbits of information and advice. But we've embraced our uncertainty. There's an overwhelming sense of calm knowing that we are on this journey together.

So The Great Escape begins. And as with all escapes, there will surely be implications and maybe even consequences.

Or so we hope...

-Liz & Robert