Week 8 (Day 52, 53, 54, & 55); Week 1 of Panama City

This week in has led to general feelings of being overwhelmed and critical of myself.  I am attempting to balance many things, all of which could potentially be full-time endeavors, all while staying at a very hectic and chaotic hostel. 

#1 I am continuing to study Spanish but now in the afternoons which seems to be right in the middle of the day with little time for doing my own thing in the morning and evening.  Also, there are 4 of us in the class which has led me to not get as much personalized attention and in turn has made me a less serious student.

#2 Even though I haven’t been taking my study as seriously I would really like to be at a point where I am conversational in Spanish.  This means that I would need to stay down here longer.  So a large part of my time recently has been looking for work (both volunteer positions & paid work) down here since I seem to be running out of money very quickly ever since leaving Guatemala.  This has also meant scheduling interviews into different parts of my day over unpredictable Skype.

#3 Just being a tourist!  I find myself in this really awesome city, a confluence of cultures, with a vibrant energy.  But instead of out and exploring it I find myself consumed with all these other things and judging myself for not seeing what’s out there in what may be my only time in Panama City.

Part of my judgment is about choices I have made in my travels.  Why didn’t I start looking for work sooner when there wasn’t a time crunch aspect?  I should have started this process as soon as I arrived, but then again I hadn’t known if I wanted to stay or not.  Why did I not listen to advice that Xela was the best place to learn Spanish if a person were truly serious about learning?  I guess because I also wanted to experience other places.  Even though these other places have been more distracting and more expensive they have still been valuable experiences.  I guess I needed to experience the difference on my own and come to my own conclusion that Xela is truly the best place to learn Spanish.  And also along the same lines, why did I not set up volunteer work before coming down?  I guess because I needed to know Spanish first.

Ahhh, compassion.  I keep reminding myself to have compassion for myself.  The Tuesday after arriving, slow to get moving and all I ended up doing with my morning was an interview and a conversation with my mom.  Trying to tell myself that I just needed to recover from my crazy hectic travel day.

I think some of the judgment may also be about living amongst so many people and comparing myself.  My room has 12+ dorm beds, always full of different people.  I wake up early and then slowly experience the clearing out of the room and then suddenly I’m the only one still hanging around.  But part of the problem is that with so many people I always find myself distracted with conversations.  Talk to one person here, another there, then I’m never able to get myself out the door.

Surprisingly, I think most of the conversations have been in Spanish.  There’s Ursula, the German from my class who likes to quiz me in some sort in relation to class.  Then Yukki from when I was in Guatemala who’s Spanish is probably better than his English so it’s better for us to communicate in Spanish.  I think my only English conversations have been with another weird guy from Florida who comes down here every few months because he “can’t afford Europe anymore.”

Then there are multitudes of tourists from South America.  For the most part I haven’t really talked to most of them, but here in Panama is probably the most Spanish I’ve heard spoken in a hostel!  The one’s I have spoken with: The older woman from Colombia.  She is very friendly but for some reason I really don’t understand her accent so it’s always a struggle for us to communicate. 

The guy who slept on the bunk above me from Argentina.  Interestingly he made fun of how terrible the Argentineans are at speaking Spanish but he was the most clear and understandable, always speaking slow and deliberately when conversing with me.  He asked me advice about traveling to Guatemala and I was surprisingly able to understand his questions and respond accordingly. 

And last but not least, the artist from Venezuela who had taken a liking to me.  For the most part it was fine he would just smile at me in a flirtatious sort of way.  However, on Saturday, the day I left the hostel he was still drinking from the night before when I saw him in the communal area of the hostel.  That seemed to have given him the courage to tell me how enamored with me he was.  He even made me a necklace.  I have to give him credit for commenting on and noticing my “energy” which I have heard compliments about from other energetically aware people.  But then I really wanted to get going with my day, to get out and actually be a tourist for the day, and couldn’t seem to get myself out of the conversation.  In the end I just walked away from him giving him hope that we would speak again in the afternoon, only to take all my stuff and sneak myself out of the hostel and disappear, hopefully, never to see him again.

Oh, another thing about this hostel: the guidebook says “pending renovation” and was written 2 years ago.  I guess they are still renovating so many years later.  As with much of Panama City they are in the midst of fixing the place up but haven’t shut it down at all in this process.  With hallways covered in paint, workers always hanging around, and at least half of the bathrooms closed due to the renovation, it has not been the most pleasurable experience.

Wednesday morning I was able to visit the History of Panama Museum before class.  Thursday I walked into the downtown area of Panama City via the Cinta Costera (a waterfront greenspace).  It was a beautiful area and I was amazed by the limited activity.  I would compare it with the path between Lake Michigan and Lakeshore Drive in Chicago where tons of people utilize the space.  But in this case it was empty.  Again worlds apart from the Central Avenue area of town.  One of the things I love about the energy of this area is the multitudes of kids running around, while this Cinta Costera had many playgrounds that were completely empty!  After exploring a bit downtown and seeing yet another world all within Panama City I was able to take the metro back to the Central Avenue area and walk to class (I was late).

Friday I worked on applications.  Then had an interview.  This again went later than expected and I ended up being late once again for class.  More evidence that afternoon classes are not good for me and that I have too many things going on right now.

Day 51 (Day 1 of Panama City)

So Monday morning, I wake up to a stopped bus.  I figure it is just a bathroom stop since it is still very early.  But then everyone seems to be getting off, my clock says 3am and with the 4am time change it would have still just been a 5 hr bus ride when it was supposed to take another 8 hours.  I guess it doesn't take quite as long when you go in the middle of the night.

I decide to hang out in the very large and modern bus station as I wait for it to get light (I didn't know if reception would be open or not at my hostel and didn't want to find myself standing out on a dark street).  I get myself a metro card (I'm excited to finally be able to utilize public transit), try to get a card for the pay phone too so I could call the hostel instead, and get myself some cash (Panama uses American Dollars so now even though I still don't understand when they tell me prices in rapid Spanish at least I understand the currency unlike the Costa Rican Colon).

When I finally go ahead and get a taxi to my hotel a guy tells me it will be $10.  This sounds outrageous to me (the guide book says anywhere in Panama City shouldn't cost more than $4), but since he started so high I only bargain down to $8.  Later in the week my Spanish teacher says that even $6 from the bus station to Casco Viejo, they're ripping you off.  Oh well, I guess I just need to get better at walking away.

Once I got to the hostel I tried offering to pay for the previous night for a bed (I had gotten an e-mail from my new school that I wouldn't be having classes till the afternoon) but they were completely full.  The receptionist said I wouldn't be able to check-in till 1 and gave me a key to the very full luggage room and sent me on my way.  I found my way to a quiet and in-descript coffee shop where I spent a couple hours regrouping.

Afterward, I walked around a bit in my new neighborhood of Casco Viejo catching some of the beautiful views of the city.  I found my way to my school to pay for the week of classes and check-in.  I then went to have lunch in a pretty touristy little cafe with menus in English where I was able to spend some time with my Spanish notes.  I realized I needed more paper and decided to walk down to the supermarket that I'd asked at the school where to find.

My walk out of the tourist area, old town, was awesome!  Still old buildings, reminiscent of New Orleans style.  Tons of activity, colors, and vibrancy!  Some of the indigenous dress down here is also so vibrant and colorful.  It has so many parts to it, including the beaded sleeve that goes around their calves.  By the time I found some paper and paid I was a bit late for my class and hurried back to the school.

My class is huge compared to what I've had so far.  4 of us ladies and one male teacher!  Grace is a Korean-Canadian who is a Environmental Engineer and moved down here with her boyfriend.  Donna is an American-Canadian who is planning to move to Mexico for work.  And Ursula is a partially retired social worker from Germany.

It is so much different with a larger class!  Ursula is the most talkative and I think there is some judgement about different styles of learning the language.  Plus there are definite gaps in my learning where I don't know what the teacher is saying but others in which I am ahead of others in the class.

Also, I am really disliking having my classes in the afternoon.  Mornings are difficult for me to get going and out of the hostel without the structure of a morning class.  I feel like I'm missing out on this amazing city by having this obligation in the middle of the day to be in class.

Once back at the hostel and checking-in I find myself bombarded with being recognized.  Yukki, one of the guys I had been hanging out with in Guatemala was at the hostel, then Ursula appeared too, staying at the hostel for the week.  When I finally make it to my room with my backpack, it is also very overwhelming.  A dorm of 12 people, everyone is on top of each other, there is no space for anything!

After finding Yukki again and briefly catching up with him I make my way back to the more local part of town for dinner.  The diner I go to has been recommended by several sources but I find it to be one of the worse diners I have ever been to.  I realize it is tied with the diner I went to in Tiburon when I lived there over the summer.  Reflecting back I think how crazy my life is!  Was it really just this last summer that I was in a dramatically different diner that is somehow comparative to this diner in Panama City?  But at least this one has people watching going for it.  It is absolutely filled with life and diversity while the one in Tiburon only had rich, white, retired folks.

Then also reflecting on my day, the many worlds I had been among in just a 24 hour period.  Just 24 hours prior, crossing the chaotic and disorganized border.  The quiet bus ride, the safe-haven sort of tourist lunch spot, the hectic hostel full of foreigners from all over, and now this very local hang-out spot.  So many worlds, so many different experiences evoking very different emotions all in one day!  I think this is one of the things I like best about Panama City, you only have to walk a couple blocks to have experiences worlds apart from one another.

Day 50 (Travel Day: From Costa Rica to Panama)

Well, this day turned out a lot different than expected.  Perhaps not the whole day, but the morning at least.  I had planned on spending one last leisurely morning in San Jose, checking out the butterfly exhibit at the museum and trying this Gallo Pinto breakfast that both my teachers had raved about.  However, after the hostel manager's warning I had checked out my travel guide which also recommended buying international bus tickets ahead of time.  The original plan had been to show up at the bus terminal in time for the afternoon bus for the 16-18 hour trip to Panama City where I had both a hostel and school reserved for the week.

However, due to the warnings I decided to leave my backpack at the hostel and get myself to the bus terminal first thing in the morning and then return later with my things.  I tried to find the bus to head down there once again without much luck.  After I'd walked awhile, I realized that I was nearly halfway there anyway so I might as well walk the whole way.

Once there it took me a bit to find the right desk for Expresso Panama, the bus line that went all the way to Panama City.  She told me that the next bus I could get on wasn't until Wednesday.  Hmmm, I guess they weren't kidding about booking ahead of time.  I decided to try the other more expensive bus line across town and realized I better not waste time wandering around the city some more and invested in a taxi.  Same story there, no bus until Thursday.  Why don't these bus companies have websites where you can actually purchase the tickets if you have to get them so far ahead of time?  I guess I could have gotten it as soon I arrived into San Jose or come into town once last week, but this is ridiculous.  Well, now what?

I'd initially left the terminal but went back in to try and figure out my options.  According to my guide book, I could also take a series of local buses and cross the border on my own.  So I decided I better get myself back to the hostel and get myself to yet another bus terminal to try and get to the border earlier since I would be transferring a bunch which would probably take more time.

On my way back, I also attempted to try and find a bus but ended up walking again.  Between my first evening and morning here walking with April, walking in circles last Sunday before my homestay pick-up, walking last night back and forth several times between the hostel and contact improv, and walking all across town to the bus terminals today, I'd say my feet know San Jose quite well....

Needless to say, I took a taxi with my giant pack to the Tracopa bus terminal.  Once there, it took a bit to get my bearings, after which I stood in line to get a ticket.  Here I had a problem.  I didn't have many colones (Costa Rican currency) left because I would be leaving the country and didn't want to have a bunch left over.  I could get myself a ticket to the border, but didn't have enough money to get myself to  the city an hour over the border.  So I guess I'll just get myself to the border then.  According to the guide book, I could then get myself to David (the town an hour into Panama) in a minibus from the border.

I then counted up the few coins that I had left and bought myself a bag a chips (the only thing I will have eaten nearly the whole day, so much for an awesome authentic costa rican breakfast of Gallo Pinto).  Then I headed to my bus and encountered the next problem.  I was informed by the ticket taker that this was the 11:20 bus, my ticket was for the 11 o'clock bus.  How did I miss my bus?

I went back to the ticket window to try to explain my situation.  If I thought she had been unhelpful the first time, she was even worse this time around.  In the end, she had me give her an extra $7 which I was able to pay in american dollars and changed my ticket to the 12 o'clock bus which went directly to David however my ticket still said that I would be going only to the border.  So much for me thinking that Costa Rica totally was tourist driven and catered to tourist, this lady was so unhelpful and unaccommodating.  Missing my Guatemalans, reflecting fondly on my first bus terminal experience where I missed my shuttle and they called it back for me.  Also missing the chicken bus terminals where there were always tons of people lending a helping hand and showing me where to go.  I guess in the chaos, there are is also a lot of camaraderie.  This land of lines and ticket offices is just so cold and inconsiderate!

The driver of the bus to David though was a whole different story.  He was so sweet to me!  As he took my bag he asked where I was headed.  There was some confusion because my bus ticket said I was going to the border but I obviously wanted to go further.  He ended up calling some more official guy over to translate for me.  This guy was surprised I spoke some Spanish but was able to clarify some of what the driver was trying to tell me.  He then took me back to the same window where he interacted with the mean lady instead of me.  I handed over my passport and another $7 for the immigration fees and was told I would pay the driver an additional amount to get all the way to David.

Ahhhh, goodness, finally on a bus headed in the direction of where I wanted to go.  No stress for a few hours at least as I waited on the bus.  At one stop I rationed my money a bit further and bought an ice cream, now only the equivalent of 32 cents, not much I can buy with that.

Then the border....  the guide book was absolutely right totally confusing, chaotic, and absolutely unclear about what you're supposed to do or what line you're supposed to be in.  Luckily, at times the driver was there pointing me in the right direction.  I have no idea what I would have done if I'd try to cross on my own.  One line for getting out of Costa Rica that took almost an hour to get through.  Then you walk a couple hundred yards, maybe crossing the border, I'm not really sure, to get another semblance of a line.  Here I could have given my 32 cents to a little girl who was going around to everyone in the line begging.  But I didn't remember it till after she was gone and it probably would just encourage that kind of behavior anyway.

Next problem!  Once I got to the front of this second line (another hour or so), they actually did ask for proof of a ticket out of the country.  This was supposed to be a requirement for getting into Costa Rica as well but the border agent never asked me.  My vague plan had been to take a San Blas boat tour to Colombia so that's what I told this agent.  He said I had to have a ticket out of the country.  I'm not sure the bus driver quite understood that all I needed was wifi to purchase a ticket and kind of took me on a wild goose chase looking for it.  In the end I found a hotspot right near the border agent and quickly purchased the boat ticket because I wasn't sure what else to do.  Once I put in all my payment info though, it said that I would get a confirmation e-mail within the next 24 hours.  Crap, 24 hours!!!!

However, once I got back to the border agent he didn't care too much and didn't even really look at the message and just stamped my passport.  All this time too my bus driver had been checking in with me.  I felt bad if I held up the bus, but was glad to know that he wouldn't likely leave without me.

An hour or so later we arrived in David at about 9pm and then came the problem of finding a bus to Panama City (my guide book said the last one was at 8pm but when I'd asked the driver he said I would be able to find one when we arrived).  After some wandering around I found the right ticket window where there was already a line of people from my bus who actually knew what they were doing (unlike me).  I got a ticket for the 11 o'clock bus and went to go find some food (my first meal of the day)!

Half way through eating I suddenly remembered that my guide book said that Panama was an hour ahead of Costa Rica.  Had my cell phone changed on its own or no since I had no wifi?  I asked the worker at the outdoor restaurant the time.  So thankful that this bit of information had come to me suddenly but so much for my leisurely dinner.  Quickly got myself back to the bus terminal.  So glad I didn't miss yet another bus....

Here's to the day that never ends, it goes on and on into Monday.....

Day 49 (Contact Improv)

Oh, my goodness, I so needed that!  I have been seeking out contact improv for awhile now but hadn't fully realized how much my body was craving it until receiving it!  Getting myself to contact improv was my self-determined main task of the day.  And though it didn't come without it's challenges, I managed to accomplish my goal.

I really don't know how I manage to call myself a dance/movement therapist and go all these months without slowing down enough to listen to my body.  Even though I was directed to let go, slow down, and listen solely in Spanish where I probably only caught every 5th word at most, my body rejoiced.  We were standing in a circle then and all I craved was to drop to the amazing wood floor.  Then I realized that I hadn't been on the floor, truly grounded and feeling the earth beneath my body since maybe October when I was last at Contact Improv in Berkley.  I found myself scanning through all the bedrooms and hostels I've found myself in since then realizing that they have all been hard cement floors.  Sure I've been active in my body through all my hiking and walking, but have truly been unaware.

Next we were directed to form two circles, one inside the other, and to one by one, to truly see the people in the other circle.  No words, but just to be seen.  With the anxiety that accompanied this, I realized that it is not only about speaking Spanish that makes me nervous down here.  It is about being different, feeling like an outsider in a culture that is not my own, that when they looked me in the eye they saw somehow that I did not belong, that I was unlike them.

Interestingly, the day before, my teacher Vinicio had done a class on the non-verbal communication of their culture.  All this time learning Spanish and truly there is so much more to the words that even when we take that away completely there is still so much difference.... and also so much similarity.

And then the sub-culture of Contact Improv.  The fact that we are miles and miles away, people from all over the world, and though it may have some differences, we connect in yet another language that doesn't involve words at all, but only our bodies.  I thought too about how long it's taken me to even learn the language of Contact Improv, the fact that I'm still learning it but that it's easier to participate in this dialogue of two or more bodies even when you don't know the language.

Then as I sat on the outskirts taking it all in, realizing that in addition to dancing there were also conversations going on in Spanish around me.  But I realized that even if I had been back in San Francisco or even Chicago I wouldn't have been participating in the side conversations.  My MO is to be a wall flower on the outskirts, observing, quietly justing sitting back and watching.  April had found it hard to be here and not be able to communicate, to talk to people.  One of my traveling companions earlier had made a statement something to the effect of needing to be outgoing down here because there is no other choice.  For me there is, it is easy for me to be silent, to watch, to just look on at this culture from the sidelines without needing to be a part of it.  Maybe that's part of the reason I like it so much, having an excuse for not participating.

Despite my normalcy of distancing myself from others, the people at this jam were very welcoming.  It wasn't difficult to enter dances as I have so often found in the Bay Area Contact Jams.  Everyone danced with everyone.  A small group of them gathered for drinks afterward in a nearby bar and invited me along.  There they included me more, at times attempting to speak slow so I could follow the conversation.  All my worry about there being too much English spoken in Costa Rica; even though they all knew some English, more English than I knew Spanish, we continued to struggle through my limited knowledge of the language.

So amazing to be so easily encompassed into a local gathering, not other foreigners but actually people from the country.  To have this instant community through the world of Contact Improv.  I wondered if I would have found this same community if I'd sought it out in Germany.  Though I attended weekly dance classes there (regularly scheduled, both a modern and ballet class) I'd always only looked longingly in on their connections, never talking to any of the other students in the class.  But somehow Contact Improv is different.  Beautiful connection....

As for getting myself there....  My morning started off slow.  My last breakfast at my homestay in Tres Rios was a delicious tamale, a large cup of coffee, and more fresh fruit.  I then took a shower and took my time packing up.  I think I finally left the house with my giant backpack full of everything at about 11:30.  I knew where to catch the best but probably should have done a better job at asking the people at the school about where to get off.  In the end, I saw a park that I thought was near the hostel I'd booked and impulsively jumped off the bus.  No bueno!  After I'd walked aways and gotten my bearings, I'd realized that I was still quite far from my destination.  In the end, I found a taxi to take me the rest of the way.

Once there I was still a little early for check-in but they were done cleaning so allowed me to claim a bed anyway.  The owner offered very little help when I asked him about getting a bus to Panama City for the next day.  He said I would need to book it then but said that the only way to get there would be to take a $6 taxi to the bus station to get it.  I'm staying at your hostel (=cheap), why would I spend more on a taxi 2 days in a row then I spend on a bed in your hostel?  All these buses, and there is none that go in the general direction of the bus station?  It makes no sense.  Even the people at my expensive language school attempted to help me with using public transportation.  Why wouldn't the owner of a hostel not be able to help his customers with public transport?

In any case, I looked toward my guide book for assistance and attempted to find a bus headed in the direction of the bus station.  No luck.  I decided if I continued I would miss out on Goal #1 of the day of getting to Contact Improv so went back the other direction to get myself there.  However, I had found the location of the jam a few days prior on my computer and made the mistake of only knowing the general location since they don't even really use addresses here anyway.  I thought that with a name of Taller Nacional de Danza it would be in a well known and large building.

However, when I found myself in the general location where I thought it was, it seemed to be only residential.  I sat at the intersection where it should have been located for awhile trying to decide what to do.  Eventually, I decided to walk back to a different building with Nacional and Teatre in it's name. I asked a guard there about the location of the building I was trying to get to.  He'd never heard of it, but asked someone else who directed me to a building in the other direction past where my hostel was.

Since I was near my hostel anyway, I went back there to access the wifi and pull up the location on my phone.  Oh, how reliant we are on technology....  If I'd only had google maps and GPS during my bus trip too I would have avoided getting off at the wrong spot.  With my phone map in hand, I was easily able to find myself back at that same intersection that I'd been in earlier.  On the sign the name of the building that I was looking for was just smaller and secondary to another name it had.  I was probably a half hour late and had only missed a portion, probably just my time on the floor that I eventually got to after the directed portion of class.

Day 46, 47, & 48 (Week in Tres Rios, Costa Rica)

Boy, am I exhausted.  Pretty much all I've done is walk to class, attend class, have lunch, attend class, and walk home all week long.  Perhaps 6 hours of class a day is a bit much, especially when I don't care for the 2 hours I spend with my afternoon teacher very much.  Wednesday, there were moments that I just wanted to walk out of the class.  I'd decided that I would just tell the director of the program that I wasn't going to continue my afternoon courses for my last two days.  They felt like it was an absolute waste of my time when I would probably be more productive studying on my own instead.

However, I did end up continuing.  Thursday I convinced myself it would only be an hour's worth of class (we had done an extra half hour Wednesday and Friday so that we could do the afternoon activity on Thursday).  Then Thursday ended up being a bit better again so I decided to just stick it through until Friday.

Something about Costa Rican culture that has been pointed out to me in several different ways during my short week here.  In the movie I saw Tuesday, in a cartoon my morning teacher showed in class called "The Impossible Dream," and in my host family.  Women in the household are absolutely nuts with the amount of work they do and the speed at which they work.  From the moment they wake to the moment they sleep they are busy busy busy!!  They even speak at a mile a minute in addition to being loud and engaging.

In the family I live with Constanta not only does all the household chores but also works while I'm pretty sure Marcos is retired and doesn't do much of anything all day.  However, I have noticed Marcos do some tidbits here and there around the house but primarily he just sits and watches Constanta in action.  "The Impossible Dream" was about a woman who dreamt that her husband and son actually helped out around the house.  However, my teacher said that this is beginning to shift a little but that it is just so much ingrained into their culture.

I have continued to have breakfast with Constanta and Marcos.  Usually we have a bread with cheese.  When there is an egg it is just with cheese, but when there is no egg it has some kind of processed meat in it too.  Also, a lovely array of cut fruit (lately the two of them having been sharing a bowl while I have my own).  We also have a large cup of coffee with our breakfast.  There is also sometimes another coffee hour in the late afternoon shortly before my dinner.  Instead of the coffee they bought me some tea since I wasn't sure if the caffeine would keep me up at night.  Last night there was also some delicious empanadas at the before dinner meal.

I'm usually the only one eating a full meal at the dinner hour.  However, in this instance with this family it does not feel awkward.  Maybe I've just gotten used to it.  But I think it's that this family just goes about their business while still making me feel welcome rather than trying to force conversation with me or ignoring me completely.  Maybe it's that they are generally happier people and it rubs off on me too!  Or maybe it's part of the Costa Rican culture that's different that Guatemalan culture.  Who knows?  In any case, for dinner I've had combinations of a bean/meat soup, fish, rice, and salad these past few nights.

The school activity on Thursday was a visit to Cartago, the original capital of Costa Rica.  There we first visited some ruins of a church that was repeatedly destroyed by earthquakes before it was completed.  Then we went to the city museum that had previously been the police station and prison.  After that we went to the beautiful Los Angels Church full of culture and an interesting history.  Then we walked through the central market which was so much calmer than any of the ones I visited in Guatemala despite it being one of the market days.  Afterward, Vinicio (our morning teacher) dropped us off at the bus that would deposit us back near our homestays near the school.

In that brief bus ride I attempted to chat a bit with my one other classmate, David, in English (the first time I'd spoken English all week, other than on my bookclub call).  However, after a short time I realized it was better when we barely communicated in Spanish.  An older gentleman probably in his 70s, how can he have travelled so much, lived so long, and still be so sheltered and fearful?  I have to give him credit going outside his comfort zone and trying to learn a new language at an older age, but I'm definitely glad that never again will I hear him refer to every other person, including President Obama as a  "gangster."  I have definitely met people of all sorts on this trip....

Vinicio on the other hand will be sorely missed.  He had his wife bring in his 10 month old daughter as a surprise to us on our break today.  You should have seen how his face lit up in showing Camilla off to us.  He has been a fantastically patient and clear teacher!  The director, Gaby, and assistant Dayla have also been so welcoming and helpful during my stay here!  I can't believe the week has already flown by so quickly and I will be yet again off to my next destination...

Day 45

Another breakfast with Marcos and Constanta of eggs, a cheese sandwich, and a huge plate of fruit (papaya, watermelon, and bananas - I was again the only person who ate fruit).  Class again was great with Vinicio and flew by.  I had lunch at the school (I'd brought a cup of noodles, an apple, and some chips).  Silly for me to have worried about too much English.  Breaks here are taken with the teachers and directors of the program and they only speak Spanish to us.  So even on my break, I'm not actually getting a break from learning the language.

In the end, I decided to stay with my afternoon teacher.  I figure that out here in the suburbs I don't have much to do in the afternoons anyway, much less to distract myself with, might as well dive in and try to make the most of my less than stellar teacher.  It ended up being a little better than the day before however he still appears to have his own agenda rather than "personalize" his teaching to my needs.  I know that he's trying to be aware of what I need; he had us simulate a therapy session, but instead of telling me about real life in Costa Rica he made up a pretend problem.  Then just as we started to get into some more meaningful conversation he decided he needed to abruptly change it up and have me work on grammar that isn't important for me.  Umm, the whole point of the afternoon session is conversation and practice useful to me....

This school's afternoon activities are lacking (only 2 activities scheduled for the entire week) especially when considering the price of the school and far out location where there isn't a lot to do.  I took part in the showing of a movie this afternoon.  Also, I was the only one there so it wasn't much of an opportunity to socialize.  However, I really enjoyed the movie.  It was called "El Regreso" and was about a Tico (Costa Rican) who had been working in New York as a writer for the past 10 years and returned to Costa Rica to see his dying father who he hated.  Also, it had English subtitles so I could actually follow along.

Back at home I found that the shower here gets really hot :-).  However, I had a difficult adjusting it to the right temperature.  I also found my clean clothes!!!! (They do laundry here as a part of the homestay and I hadn't done laundry since when I left Xela.)

They served me dinner early (not one, but two hamburgers) since they were heading out to church for the evening, I think, though I'm not totally sure.

Day 44 (My School in Tres Rios)

Well, I might be rethinking what I said about wanting to stay here if I were able to afford it.  Though the suburbs are nice and it has been a good opportunity for me to recharge after my time in Guatemala and running all over the place with April, I am quite isolated out here with not much to do.  Though it is nice for a week, I don't think it would be good for me on a long-term basis.

The school is in an even nicer suburb than the one I live in about a 10 minute walk from my homestay. It is in a gorgeous house and the neighbors even have automatic garage door openers and there is one part of the community that is gated.  It appears that it is two family home with an upstairs and downstairs apartment but both are being used for the school.  The kitchen is also very beautiful on the downstairs level (no granite counter tops and small, but nicely decorated) while there is cabinets and countertops in the upstairs kitchen but no appliances.  

There are many classrooms in the house, all converted bedrooms.  My first thoughts are that I guess I am paying for the space considering this part of the quality is way above anything offered at my schools in Guatemala.  As class with Vinicio began I had the same thoughts about quality as he handed out bound workbooks and utilized several other resources in his class.  They also provided us a plastic folder with some maps and information about the area.

As I walked back up the hill to find some lunch during my lunch break I found myself wondering how they remain afloat.  A director, an assistant director, and a teacher all for only two students (the only other student is an older gentleman from Florida, we have a group class together in the morning, he has been to this school before and has returned for more).  Then I remembered how much I'm paying and that was with a discount too.  With all this space that they have, I wondered if they could just lower the price of their school and attract more students and thereby actually earn more money.

Then there is also the fact that we our left to our own devices for lunch, it is not provided in the homestay as it was in Guatemala and there are limited options out here in the suburbs in regards to restaurants.  I think a reason for this is that the homestay is not most of these families sole income as in Guatemala.  They are working during the day.  This aspect of the culture it is different.  They have a bigger dinner meal here while in Guatemala lunch was the biggest meal.  However, on weekends I think they revert back to lunch being the most important family meal.

For me, this is difficult.  My family here feeds me huge portion sizes for breakfast and dinner.  I think I'd much rather have them separated out and have them pack a lunch for me with half of what I get for breakfast and dinner.  However, I am grateful that they actually eat with me in what actually feels like a family meal though for breakfast they give me fruit but don't eat any themselves.  Here I also get tons of carne(meat) but I'm very much missing all of Ordelia's delicious vegetables (if only I could take bits and pieces of each place, school, and homestay).

In any case, I ate in an expensive restaurant for lunch (one of the only options).  I'd ordered spinach crepes and didn't realize that this used to be one of my favorite dishes as a child until it had been served to me and looked almost exactly as it has when I was a child.  However, I have to say that the cheese sauce that my parents served with it was much better than it was here.  

I then returned to school for a 2 hour private class with a different teacher (they had given me a deal for the intensive option of 4 hours group class plus 2 hours private for the price of the group classes because I had mentioned the huge price difference from Guatemala).  I was sorely disappointed with my teacher.  My school, Personalized Spanish, prizes themselves on the personalized aspect of their school.  However, this teacher didn't listen to me, didn't try to assess where I was, didn't appear to have talked to my morning teacher about what we worked on earlier, and appeared to have his own agenda.  By the end of class the white board (another resource my other schools didn't have) was a mess, he had no organization whatsoever to what he was teaching and my brain was on overload.  Also, he had so much anxiety, which is something I've been finding I take on of other people's very easily.

Later, when I arrived back home, I thought about canceling my afternoon classes (with my discount I could save $50 by only taking class in the morning).  All the resources and the original advice I got about selecting a school rang true, "there are no good or bad schools, only good or bad teachers."  All this money I'm spending and this is what I'm getting, an inexperienced teacher just like my second school in Guatemala.  It made me miss Ari so much, how he actually took time to get to know me, my needs, and fill in the gaps of what I still needed to learn ever so slowly as to not overwhelm me but give me a chance to practice what I'd already learned.  But it also made me grateful for my morning teacher and his ability to take 2 people of varying abilities and interests and teach them cohesively.

In any case, after a short rest at home I set out to find the grocery store to get something to pack for my lunches for the week.  During my walks I find several storefronts with activities for kids like dance, tutoring, birthday parties, etc.  I am surprised at how similar life out here is to life in the suburbs back home.  Walking around it feels very similar to my home on the outskirts of a medium sized town in Germany when I lived there so many years ago.  The grocery store as well is worlds away from the ones in Guatemala and even in San Jose proper.  It felt just the same as any of the nicer grocery stores in the states with all the same products and similarly neatly arranged rows.  I was even offered a food sample in the produce department!

Back at home we had a coffee meal.  It was around 6pm and was just tuna salad and crackers.  I was wondering if I hadn't understood right and that this was supposed to be my dinner.  However, at 7pm another meal was served, pasta with carne.  The kids (Christopher and another grandchild) poured some sauce over theirs from a plastic container and I followed suit.  It wasn't till after I'd poured it on that I realized that the product "salsa de tomate" was not actually tomato sauce but ketchup.  I tried convincing myself that it was the same thing, both a sauce made from tomatoes, but my taste buds didn't agree.

Day 43 (Day in San Jose, Costa Rica)

Today marks the halfway point to my trip as scheduled.  However, walking through Tikal this week, I realized that I don't want to leave here until I can actually speak the language which I think will take me quite awhile. So now my mission is to figure out a way I can make money down here so that I can extend my trip past my original March 2nd departure date.

My middle-mark day started with a few of the others in the shared dorm room getting up bright and early to take their bus.  There was also another guy (I'd spoken to him the night before) in the room traveling alone just for the long weekend from Texas.  He couldn't decide whether to join the others and appeared to have a lot of anxiety about it.  In the end he didn't go with them but then asked me about how to take a bus to the nearby volcano.  He appeared to have a lot of anxiety about that as well, saying that he knew no Spanish and wondering if they were safe.

Ummm, what is it with American's?  Do I look like I know all the languages of all the countries I've traveled to?  Maybe I need to have a stronger fear reflex too.  But what about all the people from these countries picking up and moving to the states?  What about our ancestors when they first moved to America?  Do you think they knew any English?  Get over yourselves!!!  Especially if you're going to travel all the way down here.  Are the hotels and tourist attractions really all you want to see of this country?

Sorry for my tirade.  I did actually feel for him.  I even thought about taking him under my wing and going with him somewhere.  But then I remembered how relieved I had been to finally have a day on my own to just chill out and I told myself "What are you thinking?!?!?"  So instead I left him to his own devices and went for a walk through San Jose.  I went up through a couple parks (Parque Espana and Parque Morazan) and walked further south to the beautiful Teatro Nacional.  This was the same area that April and I had walked through the first night in San Jose but a little more low key midmorning on a Sunday.  It was interesting seeing so many fewer traditionally dressed indigenous people as in Guatemala as well as the much less elaborate clothing.

I was looking for the right bakery to have my breakfast in but ended up walking in circles for quite awhile.  Eventually, after over an hour of wandering around, I finally found one that seemed good enough.  I examined my map and devised a plan for other things I wanted to see but then realized I would have to just head back since check-out was at 11am.  I did manage to walk through what I thoughts was the main market area.  Night and day difference between this market and those in Guatemala.  Though they appeared to have the same set up with a combination of food stalls and clothing and miscellaneous stalls, the crowd was nowhere to be found.  Where were all the people that had filled the Guatemalan markets?

Walking back, I took more of a direct route through less pretty parts of the city.  Also like night and day from the pedestrian areas I had been walking through earlier.  Once back at the hostel I packed up my things and checked out, then headed up to the rooftop restaurant with my giant backpack to wait for my ride for 6 hours.  Sometime around 1pm I ordered some lunch.  I was pleasantly surprised at the quality after my terrible fajitas there the night before.  I ordered chicken "gordon" blue.  Interestingly it was covered in a tomato sauce and served with rice and salad.  It was a good size portion and quite filling.

At 10 to 5 I headed down to meet my ride.  I got off to a bad start with my homestay.  My host dad, Marcos, was quite upset with the doorman because he had asked for me and the doorman said I wasn't there.  He said that they had been waiting since 4:30.  Marcos had his girlfriend with him as well as his 10 year old grandson, Christopher.  I sat in back with Christopher.  He was playing a game on an i-pad and talking to the game in English.  A sudden wave of tiredness washed over me as I tried to make sense of the Spanish in the front seat and answer as best I could when I was asked a question.

Christopher said a few more things in English such as "I have a headache" but it didn't appear he was talking to me.  I'm not sure if he actually thought in English or if he was just doing it for my benefit.  Either way I was impressed.  What if we as American's started our second language education at a young age instead of waiting until high school?  After all, I had taken a few Spanish classes back in first grade and some of what I learned actually stuck.  Mom, what didn't you have me continue with those early morning classes?

Otherwise, Christopher pretty much ignored me.  He did help me out a couple times speaking to me slowly in Spanish when I appeared confused about something.  Definitely a different experience with an older child than it was with the younger child in my last homestay.  Christopher has a better grasp of me not understanding while the child in my last homestay still spoke to me in and expected me to understand Spanish.  It seems crazy that less than a year ago a child his age was living with me as my foster child in Chicago.  In this case, little Christopher seems so much more innocent and sheltered than J~ was in her very difficult 10 years of life.

Eventually we arrived at the house in the suburbs.  I would have never imagined I would ever say this after my summer living in the fancy suburbs of Marin County, but I felt more sense of relief at the quietness of the suburb.  Perhaps I just need an opportunity to recuperate after my many weeks among cement streets and building and tons of people.

As I was shown to my room as well, a sense of relief.  All this time, I hadn't realized how much I've been missing until I suddenly have it once again.  I have a wardrobe here!  I haven't had a drawer to put my clothes in since the first house in California for a month back in July!  I have a real desk, a headboard, nightstands!

 Though things are still basic here and there are still cracks in the walls there is a definite difference in standard of living between here and the places I lived in Guatemala.  The cars out here in the suburbs are nicer but the kitchen was still basic.  A real drying rack for the dishes while the Guatemalan homes just had a plastic basket.  However, I don't think they go crazy with all their remodels and needing the newest and best as we Americans do.   No granite counter tops though they do have a stainless steal refrigerator.  But basically, only the necessities, the things you need.  A few cupboards, a stove, an oven....  Similar to the kitchens I saw when I lived in Germany years ago.

Eventually, Marcos' irritation about my pick up wore off.  He is awesome!  So sweet and worried about my cough that still seems to linger.  I'd worried about too many people speaking English in Costa Rica during my tourist stint, but he doesn't speak of lick of English!

I'm certainly paying for this higher standard of living.  If only it cost less I might stay longer.  But for only a short time perhaps the money I'm spending to stay here is well worth the week of recuperation.  These were my thoughts as I drifted off to sleep with both a top sheet, bottom sheet, a blanket, and a bedspread on my comfy double bed (this combination is also a first since being down here).  It's the little things you take for granted....

Day 42 (Travel Day from La Fortuna back to San Jose)

On my own again!  A strange relief or calm washes over me with this realization.  After weeks spent with my new found friends in Xela and then 7 days spent being a tourist with my friend from the Bay Area I find myself solo once more.  I feel almost as though I have a fresh start, an opportunity to really dive in and get serious about my Spanish study without the distractions of other people, travel, and tourism.  Many times in the past I have had a similar sense of relief after having long-term visitors to my apartment in Chicago before a different sort of sadness and loneliness sets in.  Perhaps this will come again, memories of my feelings when I first started in Antigua or Xela not being too far in the past.  But for now, I feel a sense of relief at only being responsible for myself.  To not have to feel left out or like I should be hanging out with the other people I am with.

April was off again this morning at 8am.  She was off to Monteverde to see the cloud forest and I continue to count my pennies, trying to save them up for the expensive language schools of Costa Rica and Panama.  I had wanted to get back to San Jose to attend a Contact Improv Jam in the afternoon, but alas, the first bus back didn't leave until 1pm.  Therefore, I had another slow morning spent in the same coffee shop with my latte with chocolate syrup spelling out "latte" where I recopied some of my Spanish notes into a newly purchased notebook.

On the bus, I spent time thinking about how similar this trip has been to my drum corps days.  All the buses, lugging my stuff from place to place.  Being exhausted enough to be able to sleep in any condition (noisy, light, bad mattress, co-ed dormitory).  The last two mornings in the hostel having made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the complimentary breakfast, just like when I was in drum corps.  Even the juice tasting like our kool-aid/tang mixtures.  Looking out the bus window, seeing a field as very similar to the many we practiced on throughout the US, imagining our field lining crew getting up bright and early to turn it into our practice field.

It makes me wonder if those days spent touring the US in drum corps was the impetus for my love of international travel.  I wonder if there is a higher proportion of us drum corps veterans that become international explorers in comparison to the rest of the American population.  For me, I'd only made it one summer past my age-out year before obtaining my first passport, an incredibly fast 10 years ago almost to the day returning from my first international trip to China.

As this bus ride continued and continued and continued it became more and more clear that I wouldn't be getting back in time for even the last hour of the Contact Improv Jam.  Once we finally arrived at the bus terminal I tried calling my homestay to come pick me up from the pay phone.  At the second approach of a taxi driver trying to "help" I finally seceded and allowed him to call him from his cell phone since the pay phones did not seem to be working.

Turns out my homestay family was at a beach for the weekend and would not be returning until 5pm the next day.  After some argument about which one to take me to (both the taxi driver and my homestay host spoke no English, both the call and discussion with the driver afterward was all done only in Spanish), the taxi driver took me to the hostel of my choosing which was nearby.  He ended up overcharging me for using his phone but at least the hostel had space and was relatively reasonably priced though somewhat cold and industrial feeling.  I spent the evening hanging out there, eating their terrible fajitas and having a beer at their rooftop bar.

Day 40 & 41 (La Fortuna)

Went out in search of breakfast.  According to the guide book there was supposed to be a nice little vegetarian restaurant overlooking the park (Parque Nacional) right next to our hostel.  We walked around the block and couldn't find it.  We walked through the beautiful park instead. On the other side of the park there also did not appear to be any restaurants.  We walked another block and came upon the dim sum we had walked by the night before. April agreed to indulge me stating that it was only her second time having dim sum.

The restaurant was tastefully decorated with traditional (chopsticks brought over in hot water and CARTS!!!) dim sum service. While seated waiting for our food I did a bit of research.  The Chinese first immigrated to Costa Rica also for the railroad and have been trickling in ever since.  People of Chinese ethnicity make up 1% of the population.

After breakfast we packed up once again and took a taxi to yet another bus station.  There we bought our tickets to La Fortuna and waited with several other tourists.  

The four hour bus ride was nice enough. I was glad to have no air conditioning, but open windows instead which led to being a little sweaty but at least I wasn't freezing.  There were also moments of beautiful scenery which somehow reminded me of being in Switzerland with the cows and the rolling hills.  Interestingly enough when I later read the guide book, it made the same comparison, Costa Rica being the Switzerland of Central America.

Once we arrived in La Fortuna we were greeted with the usual horde of taxi drivers, hotels, and tour companies trying to get our business.  We made our way through town to the hotel we'd already picked out of the book.  Here they said they didn't have any of the cheaper dorm beds left but then quickly changed their tune once we decided to go elsewhere.

We later found the gentleman at the front desk to be quite friendly.  He conversed with us in English but then as he checked-in another couple, spoke with them in German.  When we asked him about other languages he listed off several others which he had some knowledge of.

For dinner we walked through the small little tourist town to what they call a "soda."  We had traditional "cansados," mine with fish, April's with beef, which were actually quite good.

In the morning April was off to a zip line tour (I'm trying to conserve my money for language courses and to last me another month and a half at least).  I took it easy, taking awhile to make it out of the hotel and then just staying connected and trying to plan my next moves at a coffee shop.  April joined me at the same cafe for lunch when she returned back from here tour.

Just in case I wasn't quite sure what I ordered.

Afterward we headed back to the hotel where I made my first phone call completely in Spanish in order to reserve a spot for the evening at a hot springs!  We decided to walk the 4 kilometers there which wasn't too bad for about the first 2.  But then we were caught in a couple downpours (it had been raining on and off all day) and we lost our sidewalk and were simply walking on the side of the road at dusk.

The hot springs was very resort like with several waterfalls and many tourists.  This is one of the main differences I am noting between Costa Rica and Guatemala.  Tourism is very built up here in Costa Rica, it very much drives their economy and they cater right into it.  This also means that the whole country is teeming with tourists, Americans, Australians, Europeans.....  And also many giant tour groups.  It seems Costa Rica is the place to be!  However, I appreciate the much more authentic way of travel in Guatemala.  I'm not here for the luxury resorts and the adventurous adrenalin rush, but for the immersion in the culture.  I suppose the culture here is tourism and I'm certainly immersed right now in that.

In any case, we hung around the hot springs for the evening and then got a taxi back to our hotel and called it a night.

Day 39

I was freezing on the night bus back to Guatemala City. However, no motion sickness and all considered I had a decent night sleep.  All my years of experience getting as much sleep possible through the night on a tour bus with drum corps paid off.  We arrived back in Guatemala City at about 5:30am.  We waited at the bus stop until it was light then set out to explore Zona 1 of the city for a bit.

First stop breakfast.  Then as we were walking we came across a secondary school teacher who wanted to practice his English.  We went, once again, into a cafe and chatted with him for a bit until it got awkward when he asked for school supplies for his classroom.  He then went on his way and we made our way to the Central Park where the palace was located.  From there we went to, yet another cafe, to access some wifi before our flight to Costa Rica.

Not too much to report about the flight, other than April being unable to find us seats in economy so having to pay for business class tickets but also getting a meal service along with that.  Once at the airport in San Jose our ride wasn't there and we ended up having to work with one of the people bugging us for giving rides at the exit to the airport.

Our taxi driving was pretty crazy, yelling at other drivers, someone on the phone, or telling us his strong opinions about things.  Our hostel was an interesting old house and we got an upgrade out of the dorms to a private room in another part of the house.

After we settled, we went out for a bit in search of cough medicine for me (I still haven't been able to completely shake this virus from last week) and an ATM.  The streets of San Jose were quite lively and much more diverse race wise (even a small little Chinatown) than anywhere in Guatemala.  There were several pedestrian walkways where hordes of locals were just hanging around.

Day 38

I got up early in order to try and be in the park as soon as it opened at 6am.  Only problem, it was pouring which delayed my start a bit.  I attempted to find some food to take in the park with me at the visitor center but everything was closed.  Eventually I decided to just go for it.

I started at Temple VI and worked my way southwest through the ruins.  At some point I was starving and had to make my way back out.  I had coffee and huevos rancheros for a reasonable price (finally!) at a small little restaurant outside the park.  Then made my way back from the other direction.  Interestingly, I think my favourite part was the ruins that hadn't been excavated, they just looked like hills covered in dirt, grass, and trees. So amazing that these giant structures simply remained hidden all these years!

After I'd climbed the highest one (Temple IV) I needed to book it back out of the park in order to get my bag out of the room at check-out time.  I made one stop at Plaza de los Siete Templos on the way back and am sure glad I did, such a calming and peaceful place, I only wish I could have spent more time there.

Once I got back I just chilled and showered in the shared bathroom until our same shuttle arrived to take us back to Santa Elena.  Once there we just grabbed some fast food and waited until our night bus back to Guatemala City was ready to depart.

Day 37

Spent a few hours in the morning trying to organize my school for the week after my friend's visit and studying up on some Spanish.  First week of not starting Spanish class bright and early on a Monday morning.  Eventually went back to the room to see if April was ready to start our day.

We headed out to see the island of Flores.  It was fairly quiet other than a strange little procession of people parading through the streets (I'm really not quite sure what that was about).  Also, it was interesting to note that the island was more or less being swallowed up by the lake, with many spots where the water was spilling over onto the streets. 

Shortly, we made it around to the other side of the lake where the bridge to Santa Elena was.  I'd been rushed on my way out of the bus station the night before by the taxi driver and had been unable to purchase our bus tickets home after visiting Tikal as I had hoped.  Therefore, we headed back on foot so I could purchase them now.

Once there, I found a different bus company to go back with because I had felt motion sickness the whole way up.  The bus tickets also turned out to be a little cheaper.  We also spoke with a guy who knew English and had a company that organized shuttles to Tikal.  He told us to come back at 2:30 to get into Tikal later that afternoon so we would only have to pay one entrance fee (if you enter after 3pm, your ticket is good for 2 days).

On our way back to Flores we stopped at the market.  It was a fairly low key market.  Only problem, the streets were made of dirt and it had rained the night before so my feet got quite muddy.  We also walked through the mini-bus depot which were a smaller scale of the chicken bus terminals down in southern Guatemala. 

Once over the bridge again, April purchased some souviners/necessities for the trip up to Tikal.  I tried to stop at another travel agency to check out some other options for getting up to Tikal.  However, though I participated in it, I really didn't understand our conversation in Spanish about their services.

After that we had to rush back to pack up our stuff to get out of the room before check-out.  We had a tiny bit of an argument about whether or not we had time for lunch.  But ended up stopping at a nice little cafe overlooking the lake for lunch.  Then we rushed off in a tuk-tuk for the bus station.

We made it just in time! We went in the office to purchase our tickets in the midst of a worker cleaning the floors by pouring buckets of soapy water on them and then sweeping the water out the door (needless to say, we got a little wet).  Afterward, we went to wait by our little red shuttle for a bit with a couple from the Bay Area before our ride was ready to go.

But instead of heading on our way, we drove through the market area and stopped at that same little makeshift bus terminal we had walked through earlier.  Here we waited for our bus to fill up with the locals and were finally on our way.  In total, other couple counted something like 28 people on our 15 passenger van.

In Tikal, we checked into the Jungle Lodge and then went into the park explore the Gran Plaza at sunset.  Afterward we showered up and went in search of food.  The restaurants outside the park were all closed so all that was left was the really expensive one attached to the hotel. 

Day 36

Not much to report for today.  Spent the whole day on a bus to the north of Guatemala.  The bus did make a stop for lunch.  Then another in which my friend almost got left when she went to the bathroom.  Upon arrival a taxi overcharged us to go to the little island of Flores.  The first hotel had no rooms available.  The second was a go.  It started pouring outside right as we were ready to go to dinner.  Luckily there was a restaurant next door and we shared a pretty good pizza.

Day 35

Travel day. I'm sad but also feeling ready to be leaving behind the guys I've been spending the majority of my time with these past three weeks in Xela, 2 of them (Richard & Leo) having known them from my very first week in Guatemala when I first started taking classes in Antigua 5 weeks ago.

Heading back to the capital, the place I spent a day in when I first arrived, 5 weeks ago to the day.  How different it is with 5 weeks traveling in the country under my belt, 5 weeks worth of Spanish knowledge and practice.  Heading to meet a friend who I have also only known a short period, since my summer in the San Francisco Bay Area.  Such strange pockets of my life experiences. A year ago working daily with people with mental illness in a psych hospital in Chicago, 6 months ago moving from house to house in ritzy Marin County while looking after 3 young children, and now leaving behind my crazy traveling amigos from all over the world who have been drinking and smoking their way through the country.

I feel like a different person experienced and was present in each of these very different contexts of my life.  I don't feel like I'm the same person I was with the same needs and desires as I had when I first met April in the Bay Area last July.  Such a short time ago feels like a lifetime ago.

Enough of my thoughts. My day. With all my belongings strapped to my back I headed out for the bus terminal.  I didn't leave myself quite enough time and definitely got my workout trekking up the hill as fast as I could in order to arrive by 9.  About a block away, some guy seemed to be telling me that the bus already left and that I needed to take a taxi, but when I got to the office they told me to have a seat.  There were 2 Mayan women waiting as well but we waited awhile and I began to worry.  After awhile, the 3 of us were ushered into a taxi.  Then we got to a street and parked for a couple minutes before a very old Greyhound bus came by and we got on.

When I'd bought the ticket, I'd gotten to specify what seat I wanted. But when I got on it was already taken.  In all, the experience wasn't much different than taking a chicken bus, we still stopped for vendors to get on and other travelers got on and off throughout the trip (2 different guys sitting next to me at different times, one with a strange smell, the other falling asleep on me).  I found myself to be quite irritable. Maybe with the chicken bus experience I expect this but the Pullman bus, somehow I expected a little more.

Once in Guatemala City I thought it a bright idea to walk to the hostel where April was waiting for me.  It was a lot further than expected, I got lost, my bags were breaking, and I was sweating up a storm.  But somehow I made it!

We grabbed some food at a very expensive nearby restaurant (the most I've spent on a meal thus far).  It makes me worry traveling with someone on "vacation" rather than other career travellers who also seek out ways to spend 1-2 dollars on every meal.  Then spent the evening at the hostel chilling and planning for out trip up to Tikal.  

Week 5 (Day 30, 31, 32, 33, 34)

I'm behind in my writing so I'm going to just try and remember the highlights of my week.

Monday - After going to a cafe in the afternoon I suddenly needed to come back to lay down because I wasn't feeling so well.  A cold-like flu is going around the whole hostel right now.  I had to get up in order to get some dinner.  I set out in search of soup but didn't find any.  However, the power went out for a large block while I was out at a familiar restaurant. I had finished eating and was just studying when the power went out so I just paid and hurried home since it was completely dark.  Back at the hostel I had good practice listening to Leo and the hostel manager speaking Spanish adding in a sentence here and there for 2 hours in the dark before the power finally went back on.

Tuesday - Went on the afternoon activity with the school to a nearby village of Salcajá.  We basically just walked through the pretty mellow market.  We then went and looked at the very first church built in Central America.  Then a house where they manufacture Calda de Frutas that tasted a bit like a port wine.  I bought a small bottle.  For dinner we went out to a Japanese restaurant and got a Korean bimbimbop dish which was pretty good.  Then we went to a trivia night which was really kind of silly and our team miraculously came in second place.

Wednesday - My cough kept me up most the night.  I'm not sure how I made it through class but somehow I even managed to focus enough through an hour long conversation after class with another German student before rushing off to a cafe to have my book-club Skype call.  During the call a cold chill overcame me and all I could think about was getting home and under the covers.  During the freezing walk home I found a pharmacy and was able to use my Spanish to get some "night quill."  Interestingly you don't have to buy the whole box here.  All I had to get was one dose for 5 quetzales!  Back at home I was really sad to not get to participate in the salsa lessons with double the amount of men then women.  Afterward it sounded like they were have a blast hanging out and I so wanted to get myself out of bed to join them.  But I still felt so cold and my illness felt debilitating.  All in all I ended up spending over 13 hours in my bed and probably wouldn't have even needed the medication but I'm sure it helped anyway.

Thursday - It was hard to get out of bed after my 13 hours but after a couple hours of class I started feeling much better.  The afternoon activity was a movie.  I watched for a little while but needed to take care of some business for my upcoming trip so I took off.  I had trouble finding the bus terminal and wandered for a bit, asking for directions at another Spanish school.  The bus wasn't leaving Saturday morning until 9:15 when I thought there was one at 4am so I would be back in the capital to meet my friend Saturday morning.  But I'd had a hard enough time finding this terminal so I just decided to buy the ticket and let my friend fend for herself.  Back home I made the pasta with a zucchini like vegetable once again.

Friday - Last day with my awesome teacher Ari!  He decided to overwhelm me by mapping out all the grammar of Spanish.  Man, do I still have a long way to go!  We had a pot luck at the school.  I went to the post office to send some of my stuff back home and it was a little pricy but at least I've lightened my pack a little.  I have mixed feelings about leaving after 3 weeks here in Xela.  I'm ready to see more things and meet new people but I also have a relatively close-knit group of friends here and have finally started feeling comfortable here.  In my last walk through the city I thought, "Wow this city has really grown on me!"

Day 28 & 29

My awesome teacher Ari was able to come in for an extra class on Saturday in order to make up for the one I missed on Friday with my trip to Lake Atitlan.  Afterward I grabbed some fried chicken with one of the guys, Patrick.  We headed to a cafe with some nice views to do some studying.  Back at the hostel I had some leftovers that I had made the day before I'd left for the lake for dinner.  We hung around for a while having some wine and beer at the hostel and the hostel manager's local friends came by as well.  Eventually, we ran out of alcohol and about half of us decided to go out dancing.  We ended up at some place called Pool & Beer with a good mix of locals and foreigners.  The bars close around one when begins the crazy phenomenon of after-parties.  Basically, the whole of the bar that just closed down follows one another to some secret party with secret doors that you are quickly ushered through before authorities see you.  I didn't stay long before being accompanied home by one of my male companions, Nick.

Sunday started out quiet and slow.  After another cold shower and some coffee I headed to get some breakfast with Patrick.  After returning a bunch of us headed out to the hill that overlooks the city.  It was a little over an hour walk/hike to the outskirts of town and up the hill.  It was a nice view from the top where lots of families were gathering with some fun playgrounds one of which included a large cement slide.  Before we headed back to the hostel we grabbed some tacos for dinner.  The rest of the evening was chill and we watched a movie together before I headed to bed.

Day 26 & 27

Happy New Year!  I woke to the New Year in Panajachel with a plan to take a boat over to the city of Santiago and then try and find my friends in San Pedro, both little pueblos on the lake.  On my way to the boat docks I stopped for a pastry and coffee in a little German bakery and was able to connect with my mother for a bit via imessage using the wifi there.  For some reason I expected the boat dock to be a bit more organized but it was just like the chicken buses with trying to figure out the right one to get on and the workers yelling out where their boat was headed.  The boat I got on to Panajachel was filled with Guatemalan tourists.  It was a nice little journey to Santiago across the lake.

In Santiago I walked for a bit up the hill.  I found the big church and market area.  I was surprised to find the market still a bustling place despite the New Year's holiday but not overwhelmingly so like so many other market areas I have been to in other parts of Guatemala.  It was also a very nice change to see so much beautiful traditional Mayan clothing including the men.  It was a quiet relaxing little exploration for me and after an hour or two I headed back down to the port to find a boat to San Pedro.

This time my boat was filled with mostly American hippies, another culture that is pretty foreign to me.  There had been some kind of hippie festival the night before and they were all headed back to San Pedro which was somewhat of a long-term hippie gathering place.  Once in San Pedro my first order of business was to get some food in me.  After walking all the way up the hill to the main part of town I took a wrong turn and went down a winding residential area.  Eventually I found myself back at a Chinese restaurant that served me a heaping pile of relatively good chicken fried rice.

Second order of business was to find a place to obtain wifi so I could try once again to connect with my friends now that I was in the correct place.  At a tiny little place where I ordered a strawberry shake I was able to get on wifi but there was no word from my friends.  I decided to head toward where the buses took off and see if by some miracle the buses were still running on New Year's so I could just go back to Xela where I still had my room booked at the hostel.  I was impressed with myself asking the lady at the little store where the Catholic Church was (where the tour book said the buses departed from) and was able to understand her directions all in Spanish.

At the church I found the mostly closed market and a dancing celebration with masks, but no buses.  This celebration is by far the weirdest and best Guatemalan traditions I have seen thus far in my month of being here.

As I would be stuck in this city, my next order of business was to find myself some reasonable accommodation.  The places I attempted, using my newly acquired Spanish, of course, were all completely full.  I went back down toward the docks where I found the huge foreigner and hippie section of the city down by the shores of the lake.  Here I miraculously ran into my friends who invited me to stay in their room with them for the night.

We hung out for a bit overlooking the lake on their terrace and then left to eat some tacos and go to a few different bars.  However, it was a fairly quiet night, perhaps they all partied too much the night before.  It was interesting to get a little taste of the culture of San Pedro and fine by me that everything was pretty chill.

In the morning we got lunch and then headed up to the church to catch a bus.  The last chicken bus headed back to Xela had already left but we were easily able to take one headed toward Guatemala City and then transferred to another bus at the interstate.  We were back in Xela by 5 pm and the rest of the evening was pretty chill, grabbing dinner and then spending the rest of the evening at the hostel.