Feliz Cumpleanos

Feliz Cumpleanos                        February 16, 2016

The day began well (and unrolled beautifully) that Friday, February 5.  Candelaria and Gregorio, the owners of Jabel Tinamit Spanish School, had somehow figured out that Bruce's birthday was about to happen. They had ordered a beautiful birthday cake and surprised him with a little fiesta during break time, including singing Happy Birthday in Spanish "Feliz Cumpleanos".  It was a very sweet and thoughtful gesture.  Bruce was definitely pleased.  

That evening, Ana, our host, had enlisted Natsumi, our young Japanese housemate, to cook us a Japanese meal.  Natsumi is in Guatemala for 2 years, working in a program supported by the Japanese government, a bit like the Peace Corps, as I understand it.  She often cooks her own meals.  Natsumi had rushed home from her work that evening and immediately had begun preparations.  

Ana had already done the sous-chef job of chopping garlic, ginger, scallions, chicken, etc.  It was fun for me to be the extra sous-sous chef.

In very little time, we sat down to a delicious meal of miso soup and chicken with a ginger sauce.  I had ordered a blueberry pie - Bruce's favorite - from Mike, an American cafe owner here.  His South African wife had baked it.  Ana supplied a lovely white wine, and Bruce managed to find some music on his smart phone.  It was a delightful beginning to his birthday weekend. 

The next morning, Bruce's actual birthday, we headed to the Lake Atitlan waterfront to catch a "lancha" for the nearby pueblo of Santa Cruz.  Bruce had made arrangements to stay for one night at Isla Verde, an "eco-hotel/resto" on the edge of the lake.  The boat was full of passengers, and the lake was very choppy.  The wind had been blowing a gale for a few days, even ripping the rusty tin roof off a building near Ana's house.  On the water, waves splashed onto the folks in the front of the boat, necessitating that they pull a sheet of plastic over themselves and some bulging bags of produce.  Most of us were protected from the waves, sitting under the canopy of the boat.  

We arrived in Santa Cruz, and then it was off by foot to Isla Verde, which sits further along the lake.  A haphazard route, some of it on land, some of it on rickety boards suspended above the water, led us there. Luckily, we had only backpacks with us.  Rolling a suitcase would have been absurd!  

Not for the faint of heart or anyone with balance issues!  We passed a few really nice homes, a small field of coffee plants, and a kayak rental place before arriving at our destination.  Isla Verde is made up of little casitas, built into the side of the very steep mountain that rises sharply from the lake's edge.  Our bungalow was situated high up and was accessed by many, many stone steps that wound their way through a lovely wooded area.  We got our work-out getting up to it.  Along the way were a spacious yoga/meditation building overlooking the lake and, further along, a tiny massage room.  We passed an outdoor altar for the use of guests, with small statues of Buddha and St. Mary - something for everyone - set among flowering plants.   An old cayuco, a wooden canoe used by indigenous fishermen, had been given new life by being hung like a swing for use as a hammock.  We would be back to the cayuco!  

Our little house, when we finally arrived there, consisted of one simple but charming room with an attached bathroom, down a few steps.  The "eco" part of the equation was the shower, fed by a solar hot-water heater further up the mountain.  The view of the lake was stunning from the front porch and from almost any point on the property. 

The wind had continued to blow hard all day.  That evening it was wild, trees rushing back and forth, whirling and whistling.  At dinner time, Bruce and I made our way carefully down the stone steps with a flashlight.  Eating outside on the lakeside porch was not an option, and we settled ourselves inside with a view of a cozy fire in the fireplace.  A classy young couple from Omaha sat at the other end of the table, and we chatted a bit with them.  The staff, including the young American owner, his British manager, their friendly, funky Canadian waitperson and a handful of Guatamalteca employees, were all helpful.  Bruce's meal ended with a special birthday touch.  

That night the lights of the other little towns around the lake twinkled brightly in the dark.  Strings of settlements, high on ridges along the sides of the mountains, invisible in the daylight, popped out like sparkling bracelets. Above us, the sky was studded with stars.  Muy romantico.  

We spent our 24-hour get-away reading and relaxing, eating a couple of good meals and drinking pineapple smoothies and Moza beer.  Isla Verde had all the necessary ingredients for kicking back. The weekend had been filled with interesting encounters and the kindness of others - all in all, just the kind of celebration that Bruce loves.   

Here are few more shots of the birthday boy.

Saying Good-bye to Carmelina and Jabel Tinamit

Saying Good-bye to Carmelina and Jabel Tinamit                February 13, 2016

Carmelina, center, and two other teachers making pico de gallo for our Valentine's Day fiesta. 

Our formal Spanish lessons at Jabel Tinamit Spanish School here in Panajachel came to a close yesterday with a Valentine's Day fiesta. The vivacious owners of the school, Candelaria and Gregorio, had organized a pot luck party.  All of us, students and staff, had been invited to bring our favorite dish to share.  On an open, airy third story area, the table groaned with typical Guatemalan dishes, such as guacamole & chips (our offering), tamales wrapped in banana leaves, chuchittos wrapped in corn husks, enchiladas, chiles rellenos (stuffed sweet peppers), pepian, fresh fruit, fried bananas in chocolate sauce,  cookies, homemade raspberry ice cream - and always, tortillas.  What a feast!  

 Candelaria (on the left) and some of her staff, announcing the Valentine's Day fiesta.

                       The table laden with Guatemalteca delicacies!

It was also the last day with my young teens learning English.  They lapped up this wonderful meal with gusto!  Great kids.  I will miss them, too.  

    My young teen English students, on the rooftop garden terrace of the school, with a view of a volcano.

 After a month of daily lessons, Bruce and I had been looking forward to the last day of school with a typical end-of-school stew of emotions:  relief that the daily work was over, excitement at what lay ahead, and sadness at letting go of this experience.  For Bruce, it was mostly relief, truth be told.  For both of us, it's been very satisfying to have a growing ability to communicate.  But also, para mi, it's the relationship that has made me look forward to school. For four weeks, I have sat with Carmelina for two or three hours every day, Monday through Friday, discovering Spanish conjugations and vocabulary and trying to plant them in this aging mind.  I have amassed a total of 50 hours of one-on-one time with Carmelina.  She and I know each very well!  Her patience and good-humor are enormous!   She has waited respectfully while I have sifted through my mental backlog of words and endings and expressions in order to put together a thought.  She has racked her brain asking me questions about my life, questions that would allow me to practice my skills by responding.  We have laughed together at my mistakes that inadvertently have communicated some really silly ideas. All of this has occurred while we have shared the very real aspects of our lives and our little every-day events.

      Carmelina holding the rose plant that was my parting gift to her.

It has not been one-way, by any means.  I have loved hearing about Carmelina's life in a small pueblo with the delightful name of Buena Vista (good view), high up on a plateau that overlooks Lake Atitlan.  I've learned about her Mayan family, her schooling growing up and her on-going studies to become a certified teacher at a nearby university, which she attends on Saturdays.  She has told me about her burgeoning business creating lovely purses to sell, about her family's struggle to earn a living and to progress toward a better life.  Her family has no refrigerator, which means that her mom goes to market 2-3 times a week.  In between these trips, her mother creates lovely woven textiles with a backstrap loom and sells them at the market.  One day Carmelina brought a loom to school (they're very portable), and let me try my hand at it.  As fellow teachers, Carmelina and I have shared ideas for teaching English to my little group of young teens. Over time, it's been like a daily chat with a good friend, structured skillfully and seemingly effortlessly by Carmelina to include verbos especiales and two types of past tenses and various other intricacies of the Spanish language.

 Oliver, working hard in the school library, where we have our English class.

Studying at Jabel Tinamit has given Bruce and me a welcome structure and purpose for our days here in Guatemala.  I still have years of study in order to even begin to approach fluency.  But I can make myself understood in a rudimentary fashion - and I can understand even more of what I hear.  School has also allowed us a social life through meeting other students and has certainly offered us a deeper understanding of life in this beautiful but difficult land.   Muchas gracias, Carmelina y Jabel Tinamit!

                   Papaya tree and fruit on the school terrace garden.

           An interesting white bird of paradise in the school office.

Please let me know any thoughts that you have about this post - or any other, through my email:  lwebb34@gmail.com.  Thanks!  

Down a Notch or Two

Down a Notch or Two       February 8, 2016

 

It had been going along so well.  I was feeling good about teaching the little English class.  It was only twice a week and only four kids, at the most:  2 girls who had been coming to class since the first day, one brave boy with spotty attendance, and then last week a new girl had joined us.  They were working pretty hard and seemed eager to be there - as eager as 12-13 year olds can be at 9 am after a long trek on a bus - with their regular school still facing them in the afternoon and who knows what other life issues.  Last Wednesday, only the three girls showed up.  Oh my goodness, were they silly and inattentive!  They yawned and whispered and wiggled and giggled.  I tried to redirect them, and they kept right at it.  I began having a flashback to my days at Gorham Middle School when, as a teacher assistant, I had been traumatized by seventh graders who'd had a food fight in the cafeteria.  

Earlier in the week, I had been thinking of how I would miss these kids when Bruce and I finish our time at Jabel Tinamit, our Spanish school.  Suddenly, I began to be thankful that there would be only 3 more classes with them!  This was hard work.

After class, back at Ana's house, I reviewed the situation and decided to create a few games to help them practice English.  They had become obsessed with a Bingo game that I had made, and games seemed to be their preferred learning mode.  

When the next class rolled around, last Friday, I was ready with two new games.  It turned out that we were assigned to a new space, a more public area.  Other teachers were coming and going.  For whatever reason - the new space, the new games, the blustery wind, the moon - the girls were much more subdued and attentive.  And, when it came time for our break, tostadas and Bruce's birthday cake were being served!  Now all was right with the world.  We finished up our class with photos and renewed good feelings.  But they had shown me that, even though they are only 13 years old and speak a different language, they have the power to bring an adult gringo down a notch or two - and maybe rightly so.  In any case, they are sweet kids and I WILL miss them, come Friday when we finish our time at Jabel Tinamit. 

              

Este y Eso: This and That

Este y Eso:  This and That                 January 29, 2016

Looking out on Lake Atitlan from one of our favorite Friday night hang-outs. 

Our days in Panajachel go by in a rhythm now, though each week is a little different rhythm.  This week Bruce is attending tutoring sessions in the morning, which is his perkier time of day.  I'm still having Spanish lessons with Carmelina in the afternoon.  So, I have solitude in our room for three mornings - when I'm not teaching English to the young teens, and Bruce has solitude every afternoon.  It's working out fine.  We study and exercise and blog and do our pilates hovers and, perhaps, take a walk.  I'm also doing a bit of editing for the school, spiffing up their English for a few documents.  The time seems to go by quickly enough.  We do find that thinking in Spanish is still a lot of hard work, and we tire of the whole thing, from time to time.  On the other hand, we can see progress in our ability to communicate and occasionally feel a slight breakthrough. We can certainly sympathize with immigrants who delight in spending time with fellow immigrants, where they can truly relax as they chat in their native  language.    

Having said that, we do enjoy learning about the Guatemalan culture, of course.  Last week we joined our school's weekly cooking class to prepare pepian, a traditional dish.  It was a recipe that we had made last year, but it's the process and the social opportunities and the yummy finished product that are fun, so we didn't mind repeating it. This time, mi maestra, Carmelina, helped out.  She is a Mayan person - as are all of the staff at Jabel Tinamit - and she lives at home, where the traditions are still strong.  In the cooking class, she was appointed to demonstrate the use of the "molina", the large mortar and pestle used to grind corn kernels for flour for making tortillas, the basis of the Mayan diet.  After watching Carmelina kneel on the floor and apply pressure to the hard kernels, little by little crushing them into a granular flour, we all had a chance to try it ourselves.  

Carmelina is demonstrating the use of the traditional mortar and pestle to grind corn.  Note the traditional clothing that she's wearing, too.  She wove the fabric for her blouse. 

Then I got to try grinding corn.  It takes strength and lots of patience, especially since a large family of 10-12 persons could easily require enough flour for 80 tortillas per meal!  

The pepian ingredients included guisquil (wees-keel), a member of the squash family.  The variety of guisquil being used that evening was covered with 1/4 inch sharp spines, making it very tricky to peel.  In addition to guisquil, the dish is made up of carrots, potatoes, and chicken, all cooked in a tomato-ey sauce that also calls for pepitoria (squash seeds), cilantro, onions, garlic, and sesame seeds.  

The chicken getting started cooking before the pepian sauce was added.   

The results were delicious!  We shared the evening with a group of folks from a Catholic church in Minnesota, including their young, guitar-playing priest.  Their church is a sister church to San Francisco de Asis here in Pana.  They had been studying Spanish and doing volunteer work for a couple of weeks.  

                  Father Nick singing and playing after dinner.

We have some friends back home who play a game when they travel. The goal is to see who can be the first to spot someone they know at their far-away locale.  Well, we had a variation on that here this week. Bruce and I were toddling along the busy street after class, having made an emergency run for a stash of potato chips, when a woman emerged from the shadows and rushed toward Bruce, blurting out, "Excuse me, did you work at UNUM thirty years ago?"  We couldn't believe our eyes and ears, nor did we recognize her at first.  But, it was Barbara, a woman who had indeed worked with Bruce for his short stint at UNUM in the late 1980's.  It turns out that she and her husband live here in Pana for 6 months, and then 6 months in the cute little house that we once rented from her on Long Island in Casco Bay!  Wow! Quel sorpresa! We proceeded to catch up a bit and are invited to their house for lunch next week.   

              The busy main commercial street in Panajachel.

Yesterday, our housemate, twenty-something Natsumi, finally got to welcome her mother and sister to Pana.  They had traveled from Japan by way of New York, which was unlucky this year.  After having spent two of their precious days stuck in the snow there, they arrived in Guate to see the daughter/sister whom they hadn't seen for over a year.  Sadly, they were left with only two days to enjoy each other's company before they had to return to Japan.  As is Japanese tradition, I think, they presented Anna with a gift of a lovely pink fleece jacket - and even gave Bruce and me little gifts!  

That same evening, Ana's brother came for dinner - with a bottle of wine :) - and we chatted about lots of stuff.  Actually, mostly he and Ana chatted, with some input from Bruce, and much listening on my part - since it was all in Spanish.  David is an actor and puppeteer who works with kids.  He told us about his son, who is a sociologist studying (and publishing work on) the drug problems in Latin America.   Both are well-traveled, interesting men, it seems.  

We did veer into politics, too, which is a current topic here in Guate. Several months ago, it became public knowledge that top leaders in the government had siphoned off millions of dollars from this already impoverished nation.   Hospitals are without operating funds. Very little medicine is available.  Doctors and nurses are not being paid.  Schools suffer from insufficient budgets.  People live in homes made of plastic sheeting and die of dengue fever.  As a result, huge demonstrations took place each weekend during the fall. Finally, the corrupt president and vice president were forced to resign and have been imprisoned! They had been elected during our first Guatemalan adventure four years ago. Elections followed - peacefully, which is pretty amazing.  However, with few options available as candidates, the people have now elected a total outsider, albeit one who is said to have the backing of the right wing and the military.  He's a former comedian who is often referred to as a "clown".  Hmm.  Sound like any other nation we're familiar with?  Despite the tight hold on Guatemala by the drug cartels, the endemic corruption here, and the total imbalance of wealth, there is cautious optimism among those who are hungry for something hopeful to happen to this beautiful, beleaguered nation, so full of intelligent, hard-working citizens of good will.  We'll keep a small flame of optimism alive in our hearts, too.  

                               Wall mural of a Mayan outfit. 

Musings on a Saturday in Panajachel

Musings on a Saturday in Panajachel     January 23, 2016

As Bruce and I were walking along a serpentine alleyway leading to the bank today, dodging dog poop and broken places in the sidewalk, passing smokey little tortillerias with the familiar pat-patting sound of hands deftly creating this country's staff of life, I was thinking about folks I know who are wintering in Florida, riding bikes, swimming in pristine pools, strolling among lovely gardens.  I asked Bruce why it is that we prefer Guatemala.  We weren't quite sure, because we love to ride bikes and swim and walk in pretty places.  We concluded that it just seems more interesting here.  

I thought about our day.  On our morning walk, we had passed an interesting house, billed as an art gallery, set back from the street, surrounded by trees, with a rusty, ancient Mercedes in front.  I had heard that coffee might be served here.  We peeked into the fenced yard, and a man beckoned us to come in.  He was the owner and turned out to be a fascinating fellow with both German and Guatemalan heritage.  He led us on an impromptu tour of his organic garden and then offered us a coffee on his porch, sharing his extensive knowledge of gardening, German history, current politics, and art.  It was a most unexpected treat. We may return for Sunday brunch at some point.  

Further along our walk, we stopped to sit on the curb and rest for a bit, watching life go by.  Soon a couple of very young shoeshine boys spotted us, looking about 5 - 6 years old, grasping their worn black boxes that held the polish and cloth.  Bruce was ready for them - with two of his Odyssey of the Mind pins from his 20 year old collection.  He's been distributing them to kids all over the world for a while now.  The unexpected gift took these two scruffy little waifs by surprise.  They never even got a chance to ask to shine our shoes but went off with their new pins - probably wondering what THAT was all about!

Back at our homestay, Tabu, the endearing little dog at Ana's house, greeted us with his squeaky toy in his jaws, dropping it at Bruce's feet in a persistent invitation to play.  We tossed it a few times just to watch Tabu's joy. At lunch, it was just Ana and us, since two of our housemates have returned home.  Ana pulled out a rare delight, a half bottle of red wine and three wine glasses!  We toasted the weekend and her daughter, Elo's, academic achievement in her nursing program.  

      Bruce plays with Tabu in Ana's front yard. 

Later in the afternoon, after our bank business was done, walking along the busy main street, I paused at an open tienda to look at some ladies' shoes with impossibly high heels, wondering if they were new or used, wondering how anyone could hope to negotiate these uneven sidewalks and lumpy cobblestones in shoes like that.  I must have had a bemused look on my face because just then, passing me on the sidewalk, a really old, slightly bent Mayan woman, about half my height, with leathery arms and the sweetest expression, looked up at me to say "hola".  Something made us reach for each other's hands at the same moment.  Her hands were so warm. In my faltering Spanish, I apologized for my cold ones and she responded with a big - mostly toothless - smile, "I'll warm them for you".  And for a moment, she did.  I wondered if she were going to ask me for something.  But no.  With an "Adios, amiga", she continued on her way.  

I think THAT is why we winter in Guatemala.  

Pana with Ana

              Pana  with  Ana                                  January 20, 2016

Last Friday we left our little nest in Antigua and boarded a van for Lake Atitlan, destination of our 6 week return stay in the town of Panajachel, known fondly as Pana. This is the same town where we attended Spanish school last year and lived in a homestay with Ana and her young adult daughter. Since we had had a wonderful experience in both situations, we hoped that we could arrange a repeat - and we did!  I even have the same maestra (teacher).  

Like our ride from Guate city to Antigua, this van, too, filled up completely, with several tour companies sensibly consolidating their customers for the 3 hour ride to Pana.  It seemed a bit more well designed for 14 passengers, with a center aisle and a sufficient luggage area inside the van, albeit accessed through an open window.  We spent nearly an hour combing the city of Antigua, collecting passengers here and there at their hotels and hostals, until we hit the open road.  Outside of the city, little houses perched on steep, steep hillsides everywhere and the highway curved among the mountains. There was a sleepy quality to the tiny pueblos.  With a drought going on - and this being the dry season anyway, the fields are dusty, with corn stalks sticking up like sad, forgotten children.  We did pass a few fertile and well-cared for fields of blue cabbage and bright green lettuce.  

When we got to the Pan-american Highway, we encountered the usual infrastructure problems, although they were being worked upon.  Large squares of the cement roadway had been removed, down 6 inches or so, marked off with white painted rocks to alert drivers - or in some places by leafy branches placed in the road as a warning.  Our astute driver, the same guy as last year, I think, deftly switched lanes in and out to avoid them.  He's an older fellow, well experienced, with no need to break any speed records and unable to do so in his somewhat aged vehicle, anyway.  We're good with that!  

As we left the city of Solala, perched high above Lake Atitlan, and proceeded down the familiar twisting road, amazing views of the lake opened up before us.  It's hard to believe that such an exotically beautiful scene exists, a sort of Shangri-la, this blue, blue water overlooked by three perfectly shaped volcanoes.

Again, the feeling of arriving in a familiar place was comforting.  We told the van driver where we wanted to be dropped off, just across the street from the entrance to Ana's neighborhood, right on the main drag.  The hustle and bustle was the same - the street clogged with tuk-tuks and chicken buses and motorcyclists, vendors cooking chicken on portable stoves along the street, Mayan women in their gorgeous, colorful woven clothing with arms full of products to sell and babies hanging from their backs, long-haired old gringos and the current version of young hippies, dogs roaming around, making it imperative that one watch one's step.  

The main street opposite the "little street" (callejon) that leads to Ana's home.  

We crossed the street and entered the wide passageway that leads, after some twists and turns and a narrowing of the route, to Ana's home.  Along the way, we saw the same ancient, bent woman who spends her days sitting outside her family's home, the same bakery sending out the familiar delicious aroma of sweet rolls, mixed with the smell of wood smoke, and finally Ana's black metal door that, along with the cement wall, affords her privacy and security.  

The spot where the old lady spends her days, letting the world go by.  She doesn't like having her picture taken, so she's not in it!

The end of the alley where Ana's house is.  The big metal door leading into her property is in the shadows on the left.  

Looking out of our bedroom window toward Ana's yard.  At the very back, you can catch a glimpse of the black metal door and the cement wall that provides security to her oasis.

Ana was glad to see us.  It turns out that her daughter, now employed with an American research team investigating dengue fever in a tropical area on the Mexican border, was home for the weekend.  We were delighted to connect with her again!  Also in the home, at the moment, is another student, a Canadian nurse, who was here with us for a short time last year, as well as a the same young Japanese woman, working in the area for two years.  

At the school, Candelaria, the owner, greeted us warmly with hugs and inquired about our family and we about hers.  She assured us that her two sons were healthy, which "is the most important thing". Her husband, Gregorio, was off in a rural pueblo with a volunteer group from Minnesota, painting a school.  

Sauntering along Calle Santander, the main commercial street in Pana, we even encountered a couple of our favorite street vendors: Juan with his load of jewelry hanginng from his forearm, ready to entice passersby, and Jesus, a 12 year old kid with a big smile, still selling cards that his mom has made so that he can buy school supplies. They both remembered us.  We found Jesus - with his cousin - the next day and made a purchase.  

  Jesus is a skilled and smooth entrepreneur.   That big smile is very charming!   

     
So, from our hostess to our school administrators to even the street vendors, we felt very welcome.  

Bruce knew exactly which bar he would patronize to watch the Patriots play, soon after our arrival last Saturday.  There he met two folks from Maine, one an expat retiree from Bowdoinham and also a young couple from Presque Isle, who are traveling.   We expect to meet a couple from Portland in our cooking class at the school tomorrow.  It's a small world. 

In the meantime, while re-acquainting ourselves with Pana, we've been walking the streets, trying to get our daily steps count up above 10,000 on the fit bit that Matt and Izik gave us for Christmas.  

Our daily walk usually takes us to the pier for a look at the boats leaving for other villages on the lake.  We'll take one of them on Sunday when we meet a friend in Santa Cruz la Laguna. 

On Monday, we began our tutoring sessions.  We've been assigned to afternoon hours, not the best time of day for putting our brains to work but we'll cope.  We study from 1-4pm, each with our own tutor. I am excited to have Carmelina again.  She is such a hard-working young woman and patient, knowledgeable teacher.  After class, we walk back to Ana's house, have supper at 6pm, do homework and read and blog :), have our sleepy-time tea and bed down in our spacious room.  

 Cervesa = beer.  We're looking forward to a cold beer on Friday evening!

Today I began teaching English to a small class of Mayan teens at our school, Jabel Tinamit.  These are kids that Candelaria and Gregorio have identified as having potential, with support, to pursue higher education.  At their public schools, they study English, in addition to Spanish and their indigenous language, in this case Kaqchiquel.  But, as so often is the case with foreign language teachers, they don't speak English themselves.  I was a bit nervous, as usual, but ended up having a great time with my two chicas.  We'll meet again on Friday, and a couple of more students will join us. 

So, we're settling in and discovering that what we lack in an edgy sense of discovery this year, we are making up for with a mellow sense of re-connection.  

Hola/Hello!

Hola/Hello                                 January 13, 2016

                                            

We've had a safe landing in Guatemala.  Yay!  I had been a bit dubious when Bruce booked a flight from Boston to Guatemala City, all in one day, with an arrival time well after dark.  In previous trips we had been very careful to arrive in broad daylight.  Were we getting complacent?  He assured me that the hotel that he had booked in Guatemala City was upscale, and that a hotel van would meet us at the airport.  And he was right on all counts!

In fact, Hotel Barcelo was so upscale that it was a bit out of our comfort zone - and certainly like nothing we'd seen here before!  There was lots of security, but rather discrete, as one would expect in a place like this. We were greeted by a massive lobby with soaring, gilded ceilings, a wide curving staircase, and a quiet orderly presence that reeked of privilege.  An elevator whisked us up to our fifth floor room with balcony.   Bottom line: it felt very safe and I was very happy.  The lovely outdoor swimming pool was an added perk that I took advantage of the next morning, just before we began our trek to Antigua.  I fantasized about our Safe Passage boys joining us for a swim.

Our trip to Antigua was an experience that I'm much more familiar with in Guatemala.  Back at the airport, we arranged for a van ride for the 25 miles to Antigua.  The van initially appeared to be taking about 6-7 passengers.  But gradually, more and more tatooed and pierced, casually dressed young backpackers squeezed into the vehicle.  Soon, luggage was taken out of the back storage area and lashed to the top of the van so that an extra seat could be used.  Eventually there were 14 of us.  It turned out to be a small scale version of a chicken bus - and reminded me of the children's folk tale, The Mitten, in which more and more animals improbably squeeze into a mitten - until it explodes!

Our van didn't explode, nor did it lose its brakes (our bigger concern on the steep highway inclines).  We arrived in early afternoon and alighted a few blocks away from our AirBnB, Casa Menta.  It felt so comforting to see familiar landmarks and know just where we were and how to get to our accommodation - a little like a homecoming.  Miwa and Kohei, our hosts, were waiting for us before they rushed off to their nearby organic Japanese restaurant, Origami.  We soon set out for smoothies at one of our favorite leafy spots.  That evening we strolled the few blocks to Cafe Porque Non (Cafe Why Not?), run by a warm young couple whom we had met 4 years ago when they were just starting up their enterprise, now highly rated on Trip Advisor.  Carlos and Carolina greeted us with hugs.

Scene next door from our rooftop terrace where we have our evening glass of wine as the light fades.



When planning our winter adventure, Bruce and I are always a bit torn:  do we head for an exciting new destination?  There are so many places that intrigue us.  Or do we return to places where we've made connections and have put down some tender little roots?  Well, this year is the "return to familiar people and surroundings" year.  So far, it's working out.   And, of course, there are always new people to meet and new experiences to be had - even in a place that we know.  On the van from Guatemala City on Saturday, we met a young man from Alberta, a carpenter there most of the year - and a world adventurer when the snow flies.  He has no debt and saves his money all year so that he can explore the world, frugally, for a few months.  Yesterday we met a couple from Washington, DC, retired after a career with the IRS.  They have done lots of winter travel in the Americas, from Mexico to the tip of Argentina - and are saving the Alaskan cruises for their dotage :).  At home, they are gardeners and she teaches ESL.  When we're on the road, we seem to encounter people with whom we share a certain approach to life.  And then there are our housemates at Casa Menta, all three female and very interested in Mayan textiles.  One of them has a business in Michigan in which she has 750 customers for her eyebrow styling skills!  Really?  750??  Now that is totally out of the realm of experience for this Maine girl!  Stay tuned to find out who else will share our journey this year!

Here are a few scenes from this city that we enjoy so much!  

                  A chicken bus on its way to Guatemala City