Lake Atitlan

So we arrived in Panajachel, some town on Lake Atitlan, surrounded by three volcanos. Sweeeeeeet. We had a nice little hotel too, with only like 8 rooms, check it out:

(Anne bought a giant quilt, which inspired my dad)

The narrow walkway from the street to our hotel, lined with flowers:

It had cool flowers and fruit trees and lots of plants and growing things and bright colors. And most people were happy for more normal-ish showers with pressure and heat, and bigger comfortable beds. Oh yeah, and for each person, including the hotel for a night, the bus ride there and back for the weekend, and a half-day intermittent boat ride from town to town around the lake, the weekend was I think under $40 a person. I forget what we paid- might have actually been a lot less than that. We didn't linger long here though cause it was time for our boat ride.

Lake Atitlan:

These were papayas. Massive. Not sure I've ever actually eaten a papaya.

Our room was up there with that balcony, a nice place at night to sit in some chairs and chill out, which we did do, while waiting for other people at dinner or taking naps.

So we walked down the street to the water, where they were having a swim across the lake (8 kilometers (~5 miles) according to someone down at the event. I don't believe them that it was that far. But whatever. They were having a big party in a small-ish park right there by the water. We got in our little blue fiberglass boat and headed off.

Some town in the distance, Brie and Luke hanging out (which they did much of later on after we left, apparently- they were hospital buddies)

A random wall with little patios and walkways that belonged to someone's house. Kinda sweet.

One of three volcanos.

Pulling away from the dock and the party.

We started seeing the towns across the lake, the volcanos surrounding us, etc. It was nice and sunny and warm and splashy and breezy. Until the typical afternoon weather rolled in and deluged us later. Our first stop was a hot spring of sorts, which was really a tall tall stone wall at the edge of the lake, going right down into the water, and from underneath it seeped hot water. Hot. It mixed with the chilly lake water and also rose to the surface, so there were spots on top of the water as warm as a hot tub, and little swirling pools of warm water around near the wall, and hot bits of water coming out that kept us nice and warm. We lingered quite a bit, while talking to an older man and woman- the woman's family owned the brewery we lived near, and the man was her friend, an Italian from Venice who moved to Guatemala then Cabo san Luca, ten years ago, and never looked back. Except when he said he thought he was losing his Italian because of the Spanish he was learning. We talked about that a bit. Then back in the boat, time for some tourism.

Us up against the wall staying warm, like a hot tub in winter :)

A bit chillier swimming out here.

Me.

Anne and the volcano. Isn't that like the name of a movie?

Looking back into and above our boat at the same time- where the driver stood and watched, stone cold, for like 45 minutes. Unwavering.

Road Trippin'

So finally, that Friday night, after a bit of studying I think, or maybe a nap, we went back to the school for a traditional Mayan meal. It cost like $4 a head. We neglected to BOOB (bring our own beer) but Fabian brought some weed of course, so that made the night fun (for others- you were thinking for a second there weren't you?). It was fun and pretty tasty, and by candlelight with a small enough group of people at each table that we got to know some people, all of whom we'd be traveling with the next morning. We said our goodnights after meeting Cheryl, Cynthia, Anne, Brie, Paul, and Kelsey, and I think that was the night we walked home with Anne cause she lives across the street from the brewery- and so did we.

So the next morning we packed into a minibus and the more robust backpack-type luggage (namely OUR backpack, with our stuff consolidated cause we knew it'd be tight) ended up on the top rack. Yyyyyyeah sweet- later heard horror story from the five U of Dayton kids (some of whom were from Chicago-ish) that on their bus trip to Xela their shhhstuff got SOAKED soaked SOAKED on top of the bus and everything they had was drenched for the next day until it dried. Thankfully no such mishaps.

But that's what happens on Chicken Buses (so-called by Americans, something else in Spanish unrelated). They are repurposed school buses from the US, belching diesel fumes, garishly painted and personalized, usually with names in script letters in the back window, or a phrase in the front window not unlike many Latino hoopties here in Chicago that say "Margherita" or "Dios es me Padre" or something like that in the top of their windshield. Anyway these buses, made to seat like 40, usually seat more like 80. The windows are tinted and there's a wingman guy who stands in the constantly open bus door, hawking riders, taking fares, and jumping up on the roof of the (yes MOVING) bus to strap down their luggage, then he swings back down the ladder on the back of the bus and into the bus. These buses drive from town to town, and you can get like a 45 minute ride for around a dollar. As long as you're not claustrophobic or careening off a cliff phobic. See these examples:

These things were everywhere. If you look closely, the one in the back had the front of a semi-truck, the International brand ones. I dunno how they did that. But its common. Must be like the BMW of school buses.

The front window also stated the bus's route.

By the way, these buses don't actually have chickens in or on them. Its not like Indiana Jones in India or something. But I did see a lady carrying a giant tray on her head with around 7 LIVE chickens tied down on it in a net. See the ladders and racks though??

So, I digress. But that was information in need of dissemination. Anyway, we piled in the microbus, which is like an oversized minivan, not like a full size van, and seats like 14, or 16, depending on...things. Here's us piled in, a photo from the front seat. Miguel on the left is a maestro and was the fearless leader for the weekend. He was sitting on his backpack basically in the metal footwell next to the sliding door. On the way back he turned around and sat on the warm hump sticking out from under the front seats where the engine was. Then there's Paul, Kelsey, Dayton kids in back, some bald dude, Cynthia, and a creepy guy with sunglasses and a mustache :)

Typical scenery during a drive ANYWHERE. My mom would have loved the cliff-hanging roads. Definitely exhilarating.

The trip was tight but not too hot, and we had mostly fresh air except when following chicken buses up or down some mountain. We were always going up or down, by the way. Flat doesn't exist. I think Anne got kinda car sick but everyone else was okay- but by the end I was ready to get out- starting to get car sick/tired of the density of people and occasional fumes. Brie had to pee like mad, which we found out was like every hour, and the rest stop where people (and kids) tried to sell us stuff had no working potty. Bummer. Then suddenly we arrived after two hours, and all of us newly best friends piled back out. (Uh, cue the next slide please?)

Those kids were persistent. And they could smell Anne's weakness for buying things like sharks smell blood and dogs smell fear. And that's Anne handing money out the door of the van. Oh Anne........

This is what you call a Guatemalan carpool.

Though that dog may look completely flattened and dead, he was as life-ful as most dogs in Guatemala- which is to say comatose and gaunt from malnutrition.

Cafe Luna

Our first real adventure doing anything but school was on Friday, when we got together with my dad's maestra Nancy at the city's first chocolatier, or at least at their shop, called Cafe Luna. They have some food and some wicked tasty hot chocolate/coffee/ice cream drinks. We went there to talk some more to catch up on lost time since we weren't in Xela that Monday for class. The place is a veritable museum of...things, like old radios, tvs, and even old Guatemalan currency. We went back there again the following week as a group, which was quite a great time. I tried to get back there a third time but didn't quite make it sadly :)

Margaret, me, Paul, Kelsey, Anne-Luke-Tim (Anne engaged to Tim, both friends of Luke, all from Australia- Luke is currently in Miami possibly having surgery on a brain aneurysm! He's doing an MBA in Barcelona so we might hang out), Brie, Anne, I can't remember her name but she's a teacher at Goshen College, and two sisters Cynthia and Cheryl, who are Canadian but Cynthia teaches at Goshen College and Cheryl lives in Oregon.

A random picture I took that I really like.

My dad and Nancy!

Intermission

Here's some random things I took pictures of in Xela:

Two guards strolling through Parque Central, carrying guns. I think they were machine guns, but I forget. Many stores, like small electronics stores, and also banks, did without high-tech security systems by having someone standing at the door with A SHOTGUN.

Latino mannequins. "Daddy, why are their behinds shaped like that??"

This speaks for itself, clearly.

Cow stomach. Note the texture. Very...textury. Gross.

Lambs brains.

The brewery near our house- they made lots of stuff.

When they start offering "Big Cola" in 3.3L bottles, it becomes....

There were dogs all over the city. Mangy, scraggly, starving, timid, dogs. All the same kind of dog too. Sleeping, eating, walking, chilling out, everywhere.

Friends

Time to tell you about the people I met in Guatemala. I already told you more or less about Lily. First, my teachers. Edwin, who I had the first week, happened to be an architecture student, and he's 27, and he loves Switchfoot. So he and I were friends (or so I thought, cause he still hasn't found me on Facebook like I told him too- and he's on there all the time!)

Gabriel, my second teacher, was like 34, and had proposed to an American girl from Vermont who used to be a student at another school he used to teach at. He's been there and met her family and all, and would move to Vermont :/, but he's waiting to get his Visa. Her answer was basically yes if you can get your Visa. That's rough. He was in a military school so he told me all about his scars, stitches, broken bones, screwing around in school, and lots of marching and drills. He also is a semi-pro soccer player, but there are a bunch of levels of leagues in Guatemala, and he basically is in a league I think within the state (there are 11 states). He plays goalie, and told me how he messed up his shoulder diving into the goal post. He did uh, less teaching and more story telling than Edwin. I also helped him (just by being the "my student who is sick needs to go to the pharmacy" to get let out of and back in to the soccer game we went to so he could sneak in some booze. They don't have beer at the games because people were throwing bottles on the field. They would.

Gabriel giving a short speech about me before he gave me my diploma. I forgot to say thanks to Edwin also- maybe thats why he didn't Facebook me. Sorry dude.

Here's some of the group of people we hung out with:

Frank (real name something unpronounceable, Chinese), me, Brie (Brianna), Kelsey, Anne, the man of honor, and two sisters uh Michelle and I forget already. Nuts. The two sisters were from Michigan, one goes to Calvin College in Grand Rapids, the other was in med school somewhere. Oh and down at the bottom, Paul, the danish guy, who speaks a couple languages, and was gonna stay in Guatemala until December. His friend visited, who dad and I had dinner with, and he said I could stay with him in Copenhagen if I come visit. I'm there.

Me and Margaret. She is an M.Div student at ND, did ACE (two year graduate program in education, that Josh did) knows Rachel Wack (Tigue) somehow, both Father Wacks, and Beth Cassin who was her RA in Lewis. Oh and Josh's girlfriend. I found this all out within two minutes of meeting her. Crazy. Apparently last weekend she got robbed at knife point and had her money and passport taken. That SUCKS.

Kelsey, who is 19, finished her freshman year at Emory (so we talked a bit about Atlanta, a fun a place) and she is from California, plays volleyball, won the like DIII national championships last year. Went running and other sorts of working out often while in Guatemala. She was really nice, pretty fun, and no one thought she seemed 19!

Anne, on summer break from grad school, a Master's in Appalachian Studies. Interesting. She goes to Appalachian State, and was happy to know I had heard of it, though of course thats just cause they beat Michigan in football a couple years ago. She's really interested in weaving, SUPER ridiculous nice, and completely powerless to NOT buy things from people in markets and in the street when they ask, even when she doesn't even have enough money for her next meal and already has more stuff than she knows how to get home :) She's attended all three schools in the research triangle for some period of time- NC State, Duke, UNC.

Brie, a music therapist who's classically trained in piano. So I started wishing we were friends so she'd play me stuff. She plays guitar and sings in a band. I kinda felt like those were all things I could be doing now if I had taken a somewhat different course in life. She went to Loyola New Orleans and was there for Katrina. Lives in California working at a max security prison for people with clinical disorders, doing music therapy for basically schizophrenic murderers and the like. Pretty heavy stuff. I guess thats why she takes martial arts on the side.

A few more shots of the school- from the bottom of the hill, you can see how tall the building is, which is why it has a great view of the city...

And of the courtyard, once again- you can see the roofs we have.

On to the next topic. Does this ever stop?

Guatemala Cuatro- The School

Our school in Xela was called ICA. Stands for, uh.....I honestly forget. Something about a spanish school, I'm pretty sure. It was the tallest building around, with some nice views from the roof, and an open central courtyard where we'd take breaks, hang out, warm up from the sun- the weather was usually cloudy or even rainy, often around 60 degrees, and actually kinda chilly in the shade inside the "classrooms" of the school, which were basically just larger rooms with partitions into very small rooms adjoining the courtyard. No insulation, no nothing, just wood walls and metal roofs, like its Jamaica or...Guatemala, I guess. There were like 25 students there the first week we were there, and we made friends with a handful of them on our weekend excursion, but more on that later. They had coffee and purified water for us to drink, and thats about it. We met here to go on our adventures too. It wasn't really a school in any traditional sense. I think they were doing quite well, despite the fact that school and room and board for a week is $150. Wow.

Sitting around the courtyard:

The computer cluster room, where this dude was almost constantly taking the covers off the PCs for no apparent reason, cause he never seemed to be doing anything hardware related- so maybe they just needed some fresh air. I dunno. He was usually just poking around on the screen and rebooting them. Whatever. The machines were Pentium IIIs and either they or the internet or both, SUCKED. But hey, internet in Guatemala is sweet period.

The courtyard, some stairs leading...well, upstairs.

Good old dad, the subject of many photos. Often people would come and set up their woven things to sell to us.

The school (yellow building, ICA written on top) and volcano.

The courtyard more. And stairs. And people.

Courtyard.

Hallway to classrooms.

Peeps.

More peeps. Dude in the front with the beard is a French Rastafarian named Fabian who smokes weed daily, but doesn't drink. Nice guy. Listens to lots of reggae, as one would expect. Has some dreds that he keeps in his hat most of the time.