As we sat at dinner, I started to feel a slight tickle in my shirt. The tickles kept coming and going, while I scratched and attacked in between sentences. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Brian, I have ants in my bra!”

There are few things I hate more than insects. I knew that coming to Central America could pose a threat to me, comfort-wise, in this area, but so far there hasn’t been too much drama. Our room in San Pedro liked to attract big, nasty spiders, such as the one below. Luckily, Brian would take care of this for me without complaints since he knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until it was so.

I guess we’ve just reached that prime climate here on the Pacific coast of southern Mexico because the main problem we’re dealing with is of all the freaking ants everywhere. I was walking down the street on our first day in Puerto Escondido and felt a sting on my toe. I looked down to see a little bitty ant clinging on for dear life. I’ve woken up to many random ant bites on my body. At restaurants, they’ve tried to crawl into our drinks and further onto us from the table cloth.

Back at our hotel I noticed ants all over the floor, which I proceeded to sweep out of the room. The next morning, the other bed (we paid for a triple) that had all of our stuff on it was crawling with ants – the little itty bitty kind that hide themselves so well until there’s a swarm. We frantically shook all of our stuff off and hung whatever we could up, but it was of no use. The ants persist.

The ants at the hotel became so bad that Brian and I bared the extreme heat here to cross town in search of another place to stay. Ok, so we also wanted to find another place to stay in order to save some money. Our new hotel is half the price of the other and a 5 minute walk from the beach still. Now, however, we feel as though we’ve traded one bad thing for another because instead of ants we just have tons of surfers. There is far too much testosterone and MTV present downstairs. And just like ants, or cheerleaders, it is possible to put up with maybe one or two at a time, but when there’s an entire group together at once, they just have a way of causing irritation.

*I don’t really hate surfers. Just the ones we have here.
**This is a dramatization of actual events. Well, while some ants were harmed in the making of this blog post, Puerto Escondido is actually quite pleasant.
***We leave tomorrow night for another 13 hour bus ride to San Cristobal de las Casas. Maybe we’ll actually get our butts off the beach and do something now.

When Brian and I arrived in Xela over a week ago and had to resort to buying what we call “winter apparel”, we both decided a trip to the beach was in order. Unfortunately, Guatemala is not known for its beaches, and since we were already so close to the Mexico border, we headed north all the way to Puerto Escondido, or what we like to call Paradise. It wasn’t an easy trek, that’s for sure. Here’s a little recap:

1. Got rid of hair. Brian has been sporting a beard for some time now, but when he returns to work and goes clean shaven, he doesn’t want a freaky beard tan line. He decided to get a cut and shave from a salon down the road.

2. Said bye to the host family. We had been living with our host family for a week, and you can really tell they have people coming and going a lot because it was no thing to them to see us go. Overall, it was great. The mother cooked us 3 meals a day and provided Spanish chit-chat whenever we wanted to practice. The daughter was also always ready to talk, whether we knew what she was saying or not.

3. Waited for our shuttle to Tapachula. We left on Sunday morning at 7:30 for a four hour trip across the border. If only you could tell how cold I actually felt at this moment. I think I only showered 3 times that week in Xela because the heaters in the shower didn’t work too well on already really freezing water.

4. Enjoyed the scenery. The shuttle ride was awesome because you could see the landscape change from mountainous to more tropical plains filled with coffee trees. We also noted the temperature change drastically as we shed every layer of extra clothing we could, converted our pants to shorts, and threw on our sandals. Here’s a cool picture of an active volcano we passed along the way. Supposedly it erupts like every 45 minutes, which you can see is probably true since it, and the mountain behind it, is covered in ash.

5. Tried to speak Spanish. Once in Tapachula, we had 12 hours to kill before our bus left to Puerto Escondido. It was truly 12 hours in Hell, and not only because it was flippin’ hotter than Hades and we had no place to call home except a boring/crowded bus station, but also because we realized that our 3 weeks of Spanish lessons were not paying off. Up until crossing the border, Brian and I both felt pretty confident in our ability to communicate with people only in Spanish, but even ordering a bus ticket in Mexico posed a threat. Simple questions such as, “Can we pay with cash?” and, “What is this thing on the menu?” resulted in major, major confusion. What’s the deal, Mexico?!

6. Rode a 1st class bus for 13 hours. Yep, that’s right. Our ride from Tapachula to Puerto Escondido was a 13 hour, overnight ride. It really felt like being on a plane for 13 hours, so even though it was long, it was quite bearable. Towards the end, however, I did start to feel a bit nauseous from the constantly winding roads.

7. Arrived in Paradise. We made it to Puerto Escondido, and checked into our sweet pad. We are the only people currently staying in our hostel and it has a kitchen, pool, Jacuzzi, fridge and satellite TV in the room, and its only a 5 minute walk to the beach. I’m usually not much of a beach person, but after a cold, cold week in Xela, it was necessary.

That’s all for now. Nothing much exciting going on. We’re just taking a vacation from traveling and Spanish classes before heading back to the eastside of Guatemala.

My favorite Guatemalan dish is from the breakfast menu, but I often find myself ordering it for dinner as well. The first time I had it in Antigua, I wasn’t quite sure of what to do with it. They brought out eggs, some funny looking cheese, fried plantains, and bowl of black/brown pasty soup.

I looked to Brian in confusion. “What are we supposed to do with this?”

We both weren’t sure what the proper process was since it was only our first day in the country. Most of all, we didn’t want to look like fools if there was some traditional way of eating it.

“I guess I’ll try dipping stuff in it,” I said.

I tried a little of my toast, a little of the cheese, and even a little of the banana. We realized it was just some sort of black bean soup, but I just wasn’t sure if I liked the taste combination at the time.

I decided to give it another try, and the taste started growing on me. I started mixing everything together – I was in love. “Eggs with black beans…” I said, “where have you been all my life?!”

Sometimes the beans are less soupy, and sometimes the cheese is more of a cream. Other times, the eggs come with onion and tomato, or you might be lucky and get tortillas instead of bread. It doesn’t really matter to me how it comes – I still love it. Even after getting sick off this meal last week from a shady local restaurant that smelled of urine and old beer, I continue to order my huevos y frijoles.

On the way to Xela, and while walking around Xela, I realized having our backpacks stuffed with all the wonderful things we bought in Chichicastenango was going to be a problem. After tightening my straps all the way on my pack, I was still having trouble getting it to fit correctly (I have definitely lost some weight here! Not to mention the fact I ate something bad last week and couldn’t eat much for quite some time after.), and the weight was also making my bad knee hurt a bit more than I’d like. It was at that point I knew I was willing to lay down some cash to ship a box home. However, I had no idea how hard just finding a box to put our stuff in was going to be.

Normally, in the states, I’d just go to the post-office and buy a box for shipping. To my dismay, the post office here sells nothing of the sort. Actually, the post office is pretty barren and dismal. The lady there started giving instructions on where we could buy one, in Spanish of course, but after the initial “go five blocks that way, turn here, turn here…” we both lost interest and decided to go another route.

We started with an actual bookstore thinking they were bound to have a few, but alas, I was wrong. We then wandered to a small grocery store, but even this place was lacking a box. Then we decided a libreria, a paper store, would be a sure shot. The problem, however, was that we didn’t even bother to look up the word for box before heading out. I saw a box on the shelf, too small of course, pointed to it and tried to tell the lady in broken Spanish that we needed one.
“Papel?” she asked.

“No, no, a… box,” and then I continued making a box shape with my hands. The lady still didn’t get it.

Finally, on the fourth try, a kid in the store understood what I wanted and shouted out, “Caja!”

Ah, there was our word – caja. “Necesito una caja!”

No, they didn’t have any cajas, either. Our last resort was the mercado (location with many different vendors). There’s a mercado here that is actually partially indoors, so we went traipsing through all the different levels, scoping out our options. No boxes, anywhere. Finally, in the basement, we hit the jackpot. There was an aisle full of cajas, just waiting to be scooped up by a needy American, such as myself. I picked one up, but then Brian said we should ask if we can have it. I agreed, but the vendors were not there. We went down the aisle to another woman, but she was uninterested in our broken Spanish and said it belonged to someone else.

Argh. What to do?! We looked everywhere for a box, and there it was in my hands, ready to go.

“Let’s just jack it, man,” I said to Brian.

“I’m not touching it,” he replied back.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

I looked around and planned our next moves. I weaved left and bobbed right through the aisles until we hit sunlight. Success! We had our box.

Now we just needed to find some packing tape…

*It’s cold in Xela… higher altitude.

In the last post, I made a reference to the “Quiere pan” lady in San Pedro. There are actually many, but one in particular is very persistent with her job of haggling any passerby to buy one of the pastries she carries in a basket on her head. It did not matter how many times you passed by and said no, she would still come at you with her spiel of “Hola! Quiere pan? Pan de banana, pan de chocolate o canela?” Not a day went by that we did not turn down this offer.

Well, you know you’ve been in San Pedro too long when the “Quiere pan” lady starts saying, “Quieres pan?”* Brian and I then knew it was time to catch a bus to our next destination: Quetzaltenango (Xela for short).

We arrived in Xela early this morning, and were pleasantly surprised. Being the second largest city in Guatemala, we weren’t exactly sure of what to expect – poverty, crime, blackouts, earthquakes – but soon realized it is kind of like a larger Antigua only without all the tourists. Yep, so far no one has really spoken English back at us, we stick out like a sore thumb walking down the street, and some people even stare at us. This is going to be a great place to study Spanish!

The amenities of the city are also a pleasure. There’s free wi-fi all over the place, lots of nice cars, clean toilets (still can’t flush the toilet paper), universities, a hospital, lots of police officers, a soccer stadium, firefighters, multiple ATM’s, wide sidewalks … I even noticed that every person at Pollo Campero was wearing a hairnet! Yes! You almost feel as though you’ve stepped back into civilization, or it’s as though we are no longer in a third world country.

In hopes of picking up a bit more Spanish (the one-on-one lessons are more than worth the money!), we’re taking a more intensive week of lessons here, which consists of 25 hours of study with a teacher (instead of 20) and living with a Guatemalan family. We meet our family tomorrow, and since we’ll be with them for 3 meals a day for the next 7 days, we hope it is a good one. We heard they live right next to the Gallo and Moza factory (that’s Guatemalan beer for those who don’t know), so Brian’s convinced they’re into partying. Haha. Wish us luck!

*Quieres would mean that we are on friendly terms.

1) Chicken Buses aren’t for chickens. - Seriously, there are no chickens on these buses. If you can’t take whipping around mountain roads at high speeds, then these old-school American buses aren’t your best bet for getting around Guatemala. We had our first experience on our way to Chichicastenango last weekend, and honestly, I’m not excited about taking another this weekend to Xela (Quetzaltenango).

2) I can actually tan. - After thinking for the past years I’ve become allergic to sunlight, I am actually getting something resembling a tan during the past couple of weeks in Guatemala. I think Brian is a little jealous because he remains pasty despite spending more time in the sun.

3) Hot water is a luxury we miss! – In Chichi, we decided to splurge and stay in the nicest place in town for a change. It was a much needed break from the basically camping lifestyle we’ve maintained in San Pedro. I heard Brian shout from the bathroom, “I’m washing my hands with hot water!” with a hint of amazement in his voice. I immediately grabbed my two dirtiest shirts and proceeded to wash them in the sink until they had reached a clean unseen since our arrival.

4) There are places in Guatemala where you don’t listen to dogs bark all night. – Guatemalans definitely do not spay or neuter their pets, meaning stray animals roam the streets at all hours of the night, sometimes barking or meowing profusely (we later learned this type of meowing that sounds like a cat dying is actually mating noises). I didn’t realize how much of a problem it was until we stayed at the nice hotel in Chichi and didn’t hear a peep all night. Wow, that place was totally worth the money!

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5) Bartering is hard work! – Chichi is known for its huge market on Sundays where even the streets, not just the plaza, fill up with stands. Brian and I decided this was where we were going to get most of our souvenir/gift shopping done, so we hit the markets hard. Let’s just say we were both exhausted after only a few hours of haggling with merchants and turning down wandering peddlers. Only after this experience did the “Quiere pan” lady not bother me quite so much in San Pedro.

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6) Pana is actually a cool town with electricity! – You might know from a previous post that our only experience in Panajachel was without electricity. We decided to give it another try the night before heading to Chichi, and we are very glad we did. Pana is a completely different, bustling, and inviting town when it has power. We thoroughly enjoyed our stay this time, especially since this is a bigger town than San Pedro with more options.

7) It’s winter here. – No matter how hot I get during the day, there’s no getting past the chilly nights. I made sure to buy a hat at market last weekend.

8 ) Leg muscles are vital. – After having to walk up and down the hill of San Pedro every day, and squatting over sketchy toilet seats, one sure does start to be thankful for thigh muscles.

9) I actually packed quite well for this trip! – There are a few things we brought that have come in handy more than once. A) Collapsible cup. We use the cups to share beverages, drink free pure water available at hotels, and to help rinse our toothbrushes since we can’t use the tap. B) Medicine. Immodium, pepto, and decongestants (for flights/mountain rides) have all been worth every penny. C) Multi-tool. I’ve used my multi-tool to peel fruit, clean my nails, and open our liter bottles of Gallo. D) Scotch tape. I’ve used scotch tape to tape things in my journal, post notes around the dorms, and to fix torn money that wouldn’t be accepted otherwise.

10) It’s amazing how so little can help someone so much. – We bought 10 tortillas yesterday for 2 Quetzales, after which we were informed our money would help feed a little boy or girl for 3 days. We get about 7.5 Quetzales for every US dollar – you do the math.

Just wanted to do a quick post on the place we are currently staying at in San Pedro. This is a video we did of the school´s dorm (I know our families would like to see where we are staying). We are taking Spanish with Casa Rosario, which is very cheap here in San Pedro. There are other cheaper schools, but this one uses a lot of the money to help the children of the community. I think the instruction is pretty decent as well! If you are in San Pedro, it would definately be worth checking out!

Anyways, Brian and I are about to take off for the weekend, so no great posts until next week!

It’s hard to concentrate in class when:

a) You’re surrounded by beautiful gardens bathing in the sun
b) You’re able to hear the waves from the lake washing ashore
c) Your Spanish language teacher spends more time picking his nose than he does quizzing your grammar.

If you guessed C, you have the correct answer!

We started our Spanish lessons last Friday, and I knew from introductions that my teacher and I might not have the best relationship. We went through introductions, shook hands, and proceeded into our little hut on the beach for instruction. As soon as we sat down, he went at it, in full force. I had to look away quickly to keep myself from vomiting. I gave it some time and looked back, and he was still going at it! Oh my god, I just shook his hand!

To make things just a bit more disturbing, he did this thing where he rubbed his fingers together… to get the boogers off! Just typing this now I am dry heaving. He proceeded to do this at many points during our lessons. Anyone know how to say, “Stop picking your nose!” in Spanish? Or, maybe next time I’ll pull out a tissue and offer it to him.

Brian got very lucky with his teacher. I’m green with envy! On our break, my teacher introduced himself to Brian, after which I pulled Brian far away and told of the nose-picking predicament. He was just as grossed out since he, too, just shook his hand. We found a sink by the bathroom and washed up really well.

Brian thinks I should ask for a new teacher, and even though I’m dying to, I just think it would make things even more awkward. I mean, this is how this guy makes a living, and if I cancel on him, he might not get paid this week. It is a dilemma!

Also, we were planning on staying in San Pedro for four weeks of language lessons, but now, after being here, we are probably only going to stick around for two (and not just because I can’t stand my booger picking teacher). Our tentative plan is to move on to Quetzaltenango and maybe do another week of lessons there. After that, we might head over to Copan in Honduras, make our way to Rio Dulce back in Guatemala for a jungle river ride, and further up to Tikal. Ah so much time, and so much possibility.

“Hurry! Run to the doorway!” I tried to say, but there wasn’t time. I was already out of my chair in motion. My body was reacting before my mind could even process it. Brian, too, was reaching for his bag and on his feet. It was a complete fight or flight response. The lights flickered a few times, and when it all stopped, they dropped completely out for a minute. Other people in the restaurant scurried to light the candles, but the lights came back on. At the calming motions of the owner, everyone returned to their seats.

I had just gotten done emailing my mom upstairs about the craziness from the previous few days. Brian and I were hanging out in the restaurant below after dinner so we could catch the movie of the night – Team America. The lights were on and we were full of good food. Finally, San Pedro felt like a place instead of a dark hole in the wall.

Then it happened – yet another event we had no control over. I felt the floor starting to vibrate, and it persisted. Then, it felt like it got stronger. That’s when we started to run for the doorway. It lasted only a few seconds, but it was a terrifying experience! My first real earthquake and it had to be in a third world country. Honestly, I started thinking about all the weird events occurring this week – 1) really cold weather, 2) extremely strong winds, 3) the lack of electricity – and I figured the earthquake tied into this chain of events. It was like the previous events were omens of bad things to come – something you might hear about on a TV special.

In retrospect, the quake was probably nothing – a mere tremor – but I was definitely ready to hop a bus to Costa Rica that night. The owner played it off like it just happens, some hippies started cheering, but Brian and I were a little freaked out. Was there going to be more? Is it safe to stay? It is amazing the type of thoughts that run through your head. You just never know, right, what could happen. My fears were not alleviated until we talked to another language student who said he didn’t really feel it when he was walking on the other side of town. I think our experience was so bad because we were right on the lake on a deck-type restaurant setup, making it extra wobbly.

So, all is well now since this incident. Brian and I went to the market today and bought some local (organic) veggies to make soup. I’m still nursing a sinus infection, resting and drinking lots of water, while Brian is spending tons of time reading. We are finally feeling comfortable again with San Pedro (except for all those damn hippies!).

I believe we last left off in Antigua, recovering from our New Year’s celebrating. After a much needed day of rest, we decided to head off on the 2nd to Panajachel where we would catch the boat ride across Lake Atitlan to San Pedro. However, the seemingly simple task of getting on a shuttle to Panajachel turned into a very long day. Little did we know there were many more of these to come.

The hostel owners were supposed to have booked the shuttle to Panajachel for 12:30pm. Because of this, Brian and I spent most of the morning preparing for take-off, dreading the mountainous ride while nursing our current illnesses to a manageable level – I with my slight ear/sinus infection, and Brian with his intestinal distress. We waited and waited, and made many phone calls, until we found out the shuttle was set for 4pm! With this new schedule, I figured we’d probably not be able to take the ferry from Pana when we got there, but decided to take the chance and go.

So after wasting a complete day just waiting for the shuttle, we continued on our journey through dark and windy mountains. I didn’t think twice about the fallen branches and such that lay in the middle of the road at the time – that is until the driver asked us where we wanted dropped off at and all I could see was a pitch black street with people walking up and down.

“This can’t be it,” I said to myself.

I stalled. I was definitely sketched out by the lightless town. Shopkeepers were trying to run their stores by candlelight. How were we ever going to find a place to sleep that night with no lights, especially since the driver confirmed the boats were no longer running at that time. The driver finally had enough of my broken Spanish and basically kicked us out of the van onto the dark, crowded Panajachel streets, loaded up with our backpacks and only one mini-flashlight. We started walking.

Luckily, my spot-the-American game skills pulled us through this tough one. I saw these two guys walking up the street and just knew they spoke English, and when that was confirmed as they walked past with the sounds of English words fluttering about, I flagged them down and asked if they knew of a good hotel or hostel. Well give one point to our team because they took us to their hotel and even bargained a decent price for it on our behalf. Whew.

The two Americans let us know that the power had been off all day there, and also that the unusually strong winds bringing in unseasonably cold air kept the boats from operating since the morning. It felt like Hell. At dinner (yes, we did find restaurants open and operating by candlelight) I just kept thinking about how sketchy the food seems already, but now with the idea of no refrigeration the entire day, Brian and I decided to go vegetarian. Unfortunately, yet again, I was let down because my pasta sauce was full of meat that I desperately tried to pick around. After choking down what we could, we fell asleep at the hotel to the sounds of the tropical storm force winds pounding corrugated siding and rooftops in the darkness.

Morning came and so we made our way to the docks to hop a boat and get across the lake to San Pedro since we at least had a home ready and waiting for us there. We both knew the ride was overpriced, but we couldn’t have cared less because we just wanted to leave Pana. During the boat ride, we heard a British family mention that the blackout was on a national level, bringing chaos to Guatemala City especially. I’m not sure how that made us feel – better or worse – about the current situation. However, we couldn’t dwell on that thought long since we had more immediate concerns, namely the fact that our little boat was getting rocked kind of fiercely by the waves. Imagine our shock when we got to San Pedro and found out that NO OTHER BOATS WERE GOING OUT TODAY BECAUSE OF THE CHOPPY WATERS!

Eventually, we made it to our place at the language school and got settled as best we could. The power would flicker on for a little bit at times, but then go out just as you were eating dinner or finishing a chapter in a book. It was a rough couple of days. We didn’t shower because there was no hot water and it was so cold out. Then yesterday around 1pm, the lights turned on and have basically stayed on since. Brian and I ran for the showers. When the lights remained on through the evening, we figured we were back in business.

All seemed well until after dinner at D’NOZ when something else completely crazy and unexpected occurred…