Donde yo termine antes?

Where did I leave off last... Tuesday..

I totally almost forgot about Tuesday night! I'm writing this after I've already gotten halfway through the post.. So Vladimir is this guy from the University of Richmond, who went on the week long trip this year last March, the same one I went on the year before. He's here making a functioning and stylish webpage for HSP that most of all promotes the eco tourism trips. Apparently that's where HSP/AMA makes most of its money to fund everything else. Which is good, because I know what the economy must be doing to AlterNatives. He is originally from Slovakia, speaks perfect English (he says he learned 50 words a day of English every day for the month before he had to take the SATs to get into UofR. He still scored higher than I did.) Anyway, he actively seeks out social situations, and takes everyone up on any invitation, no matter what. His spanish teacher, who is an older woman than Rosario, invited him to this restaurant called the Cafe del Che, like Che Guavara, and invited us too as his friends. So he went there, where he was told there would be live music, and Lupe and I tagged along a little later. When we walked in there was a guy giving a speech, and stopped so we could sit down. The room is teeeeeeny tiny. Big enough for something like 8 tables, and it's full of 15 or 20 people. What we figure out, uncomfortably, is that this is the 2 year anniversary of the existence of this cafe, which was somewhat of a radical idea when it opened. No smoking, no drinking, and there's a loft above where the kitchen where music is played. So this guy continued to talk, while Lupe and I are starving. We went there hoping for some food and entertainment, not speeches. and there's no food left. The room is also, apparently, full of family and close friends.. and us. 3 people talk, and then something unintelligible is said, and everyone starts shifting their seats around. I look directly above my head, and to my horror there is a pinata there. This room is small enough that with a long stick you could hit one wall while standing against the other, and now they were going to blindfold some guy and let him do that. It's suicide. So the first guy that talked, the owner I guess, whacked at it for a while. Somebody with a broom continually saved the guy in the corner with the guide rope by holding the handle between the homicidal man's stick and his skull. Then the kid of the owner whacked at it for a while.. Then this girl comes over, and pulls me off the wall and blindfolds me. I could not be more unhappy with this situation.. The pinata is on a rope so that it moves back and forth, and they spin me around, and I could be on mars. I hate this. I swing around, everyone laughs, I never hit it, but it actually hits me! The thing actually knocked me in the back of the head! Plus, everyone is screaming spanish directions at me, which I recognize but am not in the mental state to comprehend. Where is adelante? I don't remember! I hit something, and someone screams "duro! duro!" Harder! so I hit it harder, and realize I'm hitting the broomstick and probably about to kill the guy in the corner, which actually may not have actually been such a bad idea, he was the one controlling the pinata after all. And finally I couldn't take it anymore and handed off the blindfold. The next person to do it, and open it finally, was the other owner of the restaurant.. So It was the two owners, their kid, and me. Why me?? I wasn't the only white girl in the room! I was probably the most uncomfortable looking. Ugh, I hate pinata! I hate it! I've always hated it! It's like being drunk- your sight is obscured, you have no idea what your body is doing, you know you're acting like an idiot, and everyone laughs at you and talks about it later even though you have no memory of what exactly it was you did. I'm not a fan of that feeling, in either capacity. We got the hell out of there as soon as it was acceptable, with a handful of candy of course. Lupe and I were still starting so we went to this italian restaurant and got a pizza and a glass of wine. Oh who knew Guatemalan pizza could be so good! So Lupe and I had a long talk about fashion and what Meg told me we should be making to sell in the states. Also, she told me the possible future of my jewelry, and I made sure she knew how I felt about the new designs and endeavors. Apparently, very few earrings, and possibly no more than what went with her last week, will actually make it to the states. She wants to sell them to the tourist groups that come through with Ben later this summer. It's good in one way, because the money is spent in Guatemala, which is good way to help their economy, and the trouble and cost of transport as well as american taxes is circumvented. However, it means they will be much cheaper. The tourists are willing to spend more than the natives, so not a ton less, but still. I was really hoping, for my own selfish concerns, that I could have a "line" in America, so my friends could see, and my family could buy, all that kind of self centered stuff. Oh well. It's the individualist artist in me. And who knows, it might happen despite. I mean, they've got to do something with the leftovers from the tourist groups. Maybe I can bring them in when I come back. So, mom, that's not much of an answer to "how can I buy a pair?" but it's all I've got for now. My students and acquaintances here want to buy some too, but I don't know how it works. They're not at my liberty to sell or decide for that matter. Your best bet is to go to AlterNatives in Richmond, sometime in the next month, and hope that 1 out of the 16 that managed to make it there is suitable and available!

So that's it for Tuesday.

Lupe, right before she left, decided that the AMA house was going to start hosting a craft market every Wednesday. We would sell all of the backstock scarves that haven't sold well at AlterNatives, the bags from Sylvia's project here, as well as different projects from Hilda's women's circles. Espunpuja and Xeavaj especially have a lot of weavings that they'd like to sell. Also, We're including a free backstrap weaving lesson and a cup of atol de maiz, a popular warm drink in the highlands that's sweet and made from corn. It's kind of weird stuff, they give it to us in Xeavaj every week, the texture of it is a little intolerable on a nauseated stomach. Also, the women whom I teach can sell jewelry there, too, if they want to make any with their own materials on their own time. I got Lupe to explain all of this before we started working, and explain to them too that since tools are impossible to find in Guatemala, the ones that belong to ama are always available here, as well as a clean space to work, as well as me for guidance or help. I hope they take advantage of it. The way I feel is that I'm here all the time, and the reason I'm here is to teach, and the reason I teach is to foster a desire in my students to gain quality of life with the skills I give. So.. this is the perfect opportunity for them. An open market, a way to explore their own creativity without the confines of "my" designs, another opportunity to make money. I hope they take advantage of it. I told them, in my flawed spanish, that I have a phone, and if they want to come by just call-but to make sure to say "hola! Soy Alicia! Recuerdo? Yo asisto tu proyecto de aretes?" (hi! It's Alicia! Remember? I attend your earring project?) Because I bet speaking spanish on the phone is 10x harder.

Blech.. I made guacamole today that was delicious, but I put powdered garlic in it and that taste will not go away, even after 3 hours. I just drank hot chocolate and burped garlic. gross.

sorry.

Anyway, after that I got the girls going with silver-finally after all these weeks of waiting. They were nervous! I guess I am a tough teacher. At one point early on, Etna put her tools down and wiped her hands on the table cloth, she was sweating for being scared of messing up. In Cantel, where Juana learns so slowly, I taught one design and had them make the same one the whole class, so that we had 10 of that particular style. Here, I showed the girls what they could make, and they chose. Most of them made one of each design, and got to the point where they knew how long each one takes, and by the end of class, chose ones that would line up their finishing with their companion, in time for class to be over. Of course they're all perfect! I can't believe how happy I am with the quality. They're serious about it. It also gave me a good sampling of all the styles in all the colors, which Lupe took back with her to the states. I got a call from her yesterday, she said everyone at the store loves the designs, and now I need to figure out exactly how much each individual bead costs for her to decide on a price. That is not a fun job. Plus Lupe has the invoice, so I had to look up every bead on the website that I bought them from. No idea what she'll make the prices. It's tough. She could make them cheap so that they're sure to sell, or she can make them luxury. They'd sell slightly slower, but I think it would be worth it. If she sells them for more, maybe we can pay the girls more per hour. Plus, they are full silver, which is super expensive right now and everyone knows it, and they have real gemstone beads.. Garnets, amber, iolite, moonstone.. Plus people will want to buy the story of the women. People who shop at AlterNatives are half there because the store has a different kind of fashion selection, and half because they have a conscience when it comes to consuming. I think the earrings will be really successful. Plus they have crazy good quality! if I do say so myself.

After class, we all (Lupe, Claudia, Luie, Yanessi, Marvin, Vlad, Hugh and I) went to Hilda's house for lunch. She just built a new house and wanted to show Lupe and treat us to some real Guatemalan food. Her house is gorgeous, a little western style, with huge windows all over. AMA gave her a loan to finish it. It's completely surrounded on all sides by corn fields, which Luie and her three boys spent a good hour running maniacally through. The food was amazing. Rice topped with this delicious long-cooked chile sauce filled with carrots and potatoes and beef. Oh my god. And Hilda's boys are awesome. They all played hide and seek in the house before they made it out to the corn fields. There is a polite custom here where after you eat, and I've really only seen this from Hilda's kids, you go around to all your hosts, bow slightly and say gracias. Then they don't move until you say "buen provencho" which is kind of similar to bon apetit. The first time they did that to me, I had no idea what was going on.. I just kind of patted him on the head awkwardly. Hilda had to tell me what to do. Hilda also has cats, so I got some good feline loving in on Wednesday. Oh god I miss my cats!

That night, after almost a week of begging from Luie, we had a little campfire on the patio. He and Hugh set out bricks for the ashes, and Claudia bought wood, and I bought s'more materials. We got it going in time for Lupe and Marvin to get a roasted marshmallow in, and then they had to head out to the city for Lupe's flight the next day. After she left, Claudia practically collapsed, and meekly asked if we had any tequila! I gave her out last, poor woman, she has to work so hard, and Lupe is so crazy it wears you down to deal with it constantly. Especially, I'm sure, when it's your sister. Vlad went to work on the site, Yanessi went to study, and it was just me, Hugh, Claudia, Luie, and Claudia's mom (who came in to see Lupe) for a couple hours. Watching the ashes turn from red to black, roasting as many marshmallows as we could stuff in our mouths, and occasionally avoiding the smoke signals Luie was working so hard to make by waving a portion of cardboard at the coals. It was really, well, nice. Relaxing. Internalizing.

Thursday I took my laundry out among other odds and ends. Worked on new designs, all that. Hilda came to me with weaving questions. When the tourist groups come at the end of June, AMA always tries to have things to sell to them for the benefit of the women's projects, like my earrings, and last year there were knitted scarves. Apparently Hilda is low on stock for that, and there is donated yarn in one of the store rooms here that she wanted me to look at to see if it could be woven, and with what design. Saying that there is a lot of yarn wouldn't be doing it justice. There are 5 body-sized duffle bags full. And it's all that textured, neon crap that never sells at craft stores, which I assume is why we have it. I set up a makeshift frame loom to test them, found out some good tips, and tried to assemble color schemes and texture mixtures that wouldn't be so noisy. We have bags and bags and bags of this stuff, so I hope it turns out well.

Friday was much like Thursday. I tried to do some more designing. What I now have are simplified images of the symbols from the Mayan Calendar, which I like very much and want to use, but I have no idea how. Fabric! Augh! With wire I don't have to worry about edges unravelling! And embroidery takes SO LONG. And Lupe's ribbon idea, the one that's directly ripped off of that other jewelry she wants me to copy, just is physically impossible. For that purpose at least. I'm trying. At least I'm happy with my primary sketches, I can go from there.

Then there was another school dinner. Apparently they have a diploma for me (they give one to every student when their classes are over, and they make them say a speech. yikes.) So I made tortillas in the house, which I was embarrassed of but proud of myself for being able to make, and brought them in at 7:00. The school is completely full right now, just bursting at the seams. There's a large group from Duke Divinity School, that are kind of hard to talk to, and a couple other stragglers and us. We've been there the longest now. The room where we ate was completely full, so Carlos and Luis ate standing up, Carlos actually ate while dancing. If there's music, he just can't stop! I gave my stupid little speech (which I practiced over frying tortillas) which I'm sure completely mangled the poor, innocent, unsuspecting language, and embarrassed my teachers. But whatever, I do what I gotta do. Vlad made a traditional Slavic dish, that was exactly-EXACTLY-what I ever imagined Eastern European cuisine to be. These weird noodles made by sifting dough through a pan with holes in it directly into boiling water, ham and onions, and then pounds of this unpasteurized cheese that's popular here-and apparently-in Slovakia. It is really sharp and tastes distinctly fermented. It was kind of like swallowing a brick. But interesting. Then there was some impromptu salsa lessons in the adjoining room.. really just people who were done eating and wanted to join the perpetually gyrating Carlos. Also, two people were having birthdays, so we sang "Feliz cumpleanos a ti!" (happy birthday to you, of course) and ate delicious, delicious cake. Here's my new favorite cake recipe- Chocolate two layer cake, with cream cheese icing on top, and strawberry jelly instead of icing in the middle. YUM. Have I mentioned that rum and coke was also provided? This is a great school. I have some great pictures of Olga, the director, and others that I will post soon.

Afterwards, the need for dancing was not yet satisfied, so we went to La Rumba. This time I went home to change into appropriate shoes and lose the bag. There was a large group of people there that I knew, so I was so much more comfortable this time around. Hugh and I really tried to salsa dance, but unfortunately, the two of us are completely incompatible in latin beats. A large part of this dancing is moving slightly outside the beat. Adjusting the tempo of your feet to account for the movements you're doing. And after 6 years of marching band, as well as the beat heavy dancing that I have so enjoyed in the states for so long, I am completely and utterly incapable of doing it. It's like trying to breath underwater. So I gave up on that, and we were sitting around trying to talk over the music unsuccessfully when I noticed Carlos, for the first time all night, was not dancing, so I asked him to. We did 3 or 4 songs, and it is a TON of fun to dance like this. It's not all about shakin your butt like American Hip Hop dancing is, it takes so much skill and finesse. I think one of my problems is that it's not the job of the girl to lead. I have to react to what he is doing- not easy for me! Carlos is such a skilled dancer though that it was natural with him. He has obvious signals. Lots of spinning and knotted arms and back and forth. We did a little Meringue and a little salsa, I like meringue better, the foot pattern is easier. It is so incredibly tiring! I needed a pause, and sat down trying to catch my breath when another guy approached me to dance, apparently he's the resident house dancer in La Rumba who was offering a dance and lesson. So I definitely took him up on that, though I was too exhausted to gain much or be very good. He was not nearly as good. Him in his black pinstripe suit and the over done toe kicks here and there. He also was an outside of the beat dancer, so I was toast. More breath catching at the table, and a guy with a microphone announced group salsa lessons, so everyone at every table, who were just watching, crowded the floor in rough rows, and we all listened and followed the hand signals of the guy I had just danced with. Probably 50 people. That was a lot of fun. At 10:45 it came to the point where we needed to leave in order to walk safely home, so we said goodbye to Carlos and Luis and Jairo-the younger teachers at the school who are all friends, and incidentally the only ones left from our group besides us. We like to close down the dance floor, but not tonight. On the way back, one block from our house, there was another party at an organization called Entremundo. This place publishes a free, bilingual newsletter with really well written socially conscious articles that I always enjoy. They also do some other NPO work, and this girl Melissa, who occasionally also volunteers at AMA, volunteers there full time. Claudia also recently said, after we complained about not meeting anyone and not having any friends, that the Entremundo parties were a good place to start. She was right. We paid 15Q to get in, immediately met this guy from Ireland that was a ton of fun. He was on a latin american tour with his girlfriend... but they broke up in Nicaragua! So he's chilling here, little change of plans, I guess! Also two other girls that we've continued to run into in Xela or Fuentes Georginas or other places. And we did a good hour of dancing our comfortable western style. At midnight it officially hit the point where we had to leave. Even if we were just a block from home.

and we peaced out.

This morning we didn't do anything. Watched the burned Family Guy dvds that Carlos loaned us. After that I put together the numbers of beads etc that Lupe needs and emailed that to her. We went to this strange hotel lobby looking restaurant off parque central, where I got some very normal pancakes, and the ingredients for the awesome guacamole I made today. Tomorrow Claudia is going to teach us how to make mojitos, so we got enough fresh avocados and limes and fresh nachos for our little party tomorrow, too. Also, apparently the Roanoke Times, or it's affiliate section based in Botetourt, has gotten notice (via mis padres) of my little endeavor here in Guatemala. So you Roanokers, keep your eyes open for my article! Muy emocionante! (exciting)

A bit of a nap, some reading of my Gunter Grass book (so good and so weird), and this. Writing blogs is becoming a part time job. I need to just do a little every day. Trying to get out 4 1/2 days at once takes something like 3-4 hours. Everything is just so exciting here! I can't leave ANYTHING out! Plus this is my journal now. I don't want to forget anything. So really this this is more for my benefit than yours. I also almost never edit or proofread. So if any of my old english teachers start reading this-sorry! Run on and fragment sentences are my FAVORITES! They're just so much more fun, I like the freedom of them.

Vlad, the social butterfly, has invited us out tonight with the others from school, but after last night, I just can't do it. I need a night to just eat guacamole and hot chocolate and read and write and sleep!

Yo Tengo Plata!

And now for my week. It took about 3 hours to write that last post, so we’ll see how far I get through this without crapping out.

Monday I slept as late as I could (7:00) and got up to start working. Lupe brought all my materials in with her, tools and all, so I needed to organize. I have 5 pairs of earrings, 20 each, and one necklace design, 10 each. One type of earrings matches the necklace (I don’t do it myself, nor do I quite see the point in it for some reason, but I know most people like to match.) Soooo, I bought the ABSOLUTE MINIMUM of everything, trying to save money (it was still over $500) so I have to watch over these materials like they’re the crown jewels. I don’t have a single wire to spare. So to make sure I have enough of everything, and especially to control exactly how much of everything each individual uses, I separated the materials for each pair into its own small plastic bag (bolsita.) It’s not my idea-I totally was inspired by Kim’s genius here. There were a few unmade earrings from when she was here two years ago in these types of bags that I thought was just the best idea ever. Anyway, I’m counting these out one by one and realizing that I don’t exactly have enough of what I thought I did, bead wise. It was an interesting creative challenge, though, because I had Kim’s old beads, which were all really nice, and Lupe brought some pearls she bought for the store a long time ago. So I have some designs with classy lady pearls, some in a relaxed purple, iolite, and moonstone, some super bright ones with reds, amber, garnet… all kinds! And then I took all my silver wire (thank god Kim left some because I didn’t buy enough) and cut it into the lengths they’d need, threw those in the bags, and when it was all said and done, I’ve got basically no wire left. Well, what I have is lots of wires with heads on them for holding beads on one end with a loop on the other, and what I need is straight long wires for loops on both ends. The shorter ones with heads can work if you cut the head off, but they’re so short they’re hard to work with. So about 8 ours of that- my eyes hurt- and I was ready for this week.

Today I went to Cantel, so excited about bringing Dilma and Olga and Juana their plata (silver) that I forgot my keys, money, everything else (don’t worry, I didn’t need them.) This time, I brought a white sheet to cover the table with (what we work on is a plastic fold up table with olive green wreaths printed across it- straight from the 70’s) so that everything would be easier to see, and not roll. We practiced a bit, and I handed out their bolsitas! Every bolsita has a letter for the type of design, and a number corresponding to which particular earring it is including color written on it in Sharpie. Today, we got through pairs 1-10 of design D. So much more than I thought we would, plus the month of practice together with the threat that I would withhold the good stuff until they were ready, made them not only perfect, but perfectionists! Juana has some troubles still. When she concentrates she has good hands, and she wants to sooo baaad! But she’s rough with the materials, and she is absent minded. She broke one wire, so I had to dole out one of my precious spares, and then she made one or two closed loops without including the component that was supposed to be threaded onto it… Ooops.. The first time she did that, she frantically said “Caitie! Como se dice (how do you say)… error!” It made me laugh so hard I didn’t mind sacrificing another wire. She’s so amazing though, she tries so hard, and now that she’s getting it she’s so incredibly happy. No more sarcasm. And before when I told her something was good, one out of 5, she just kind of nodded and plodded along more.. Now when I tell her it’s right, she believes me, and she lights up. When I first came here 4 weeks ago, I thought Juana was around 40. She had that giant screaming baby, and all these kids running around, and she was kind of stressed about making things presentable for me and working with me.. Now I really feel like she’s at least 5 years younger than I thought. She’s literally brightened up in front of my eyes. This is good for her. The other thing is that when they’re finished, I write their names on the bolsitas, just in case I lose my paperwork, whatever. I gave her the Sharpie and she’s like “you’re going to have to do that because I don’t know how to write.” I don’t want to act surprised about things like that.. I know a lot of women around here either weren’t able to or weren’t allowed to go to school.. But it did kind of occur to me now that this woman, with her 5 crazy kids and her home life that never allows her outside interests, now has a skill, one that she does well, and can bring her some extra money to possibly get out of the house now and again. This is what AMA does which is so beautiful. It gives these women something to feel proud of as an individual. They already have a lot of pride in themselves, their community, their family, their culture, but things like what Hilda does with the women’s circles gives them individual strength, too. Also, with the younger girls like Dilma and Olga, they’re learning this now, the techniques and skills and eye for good quality, and also the organization, the opportunities. They can grow with this. Lupe says that she wants me to keep an eye on my students for a successor for me after I go back, and absolutely without a doubt I would choose Dilma. The girls in my class in Xela are more business savvy, and a little quicker with their fingers than Dilma, but Dilma is a teacher. It’s written all over her face. She’s so gentle and proud. Next I want to pick her brain for developing creativity. I think if someone was to do what I do as a job, they’d need to be able to do the things like utilizing the available materials, and making new designs when old ones don’t work, or teaching new designs if someone else sends them to her from the states. Once again, gotta see how it goes.

So we ended up making 10 pairs of earrings, at about 30 minutes per. I feel like we could sell these for $30 or more in the store, definitely. From what I understand, they are going to be paid hourly, depending on the number of earrings they make. So if they make 4 pairs of earrings, and the earrings average 30 minutes each, they get paid 2 hours of work. Part of my job is keeping track of how quickly the designs are made so that I know how much everyone gets paid in the end. As of right now, I don’t know how much it is they get an hour. I have a feeling it sounds pathetically low, but turns out to be a lot for them. I don’t know what normal Guatemalan wages are.

Lupe saw the earrings and was really happy with them. She’s going to take all the finished ones I have back to the States with her on Thursday to see how well the do. I hope I hope I hooooooope well! I want to continue with the wire working, if they sell quickly, maybe they’ll let us keep doing it. I understand so well the desire for fabric jewelry, I want it too, but the wire is working so well here, and the women have put so much time into just learning the techniques to be finished with the jewelry in only 2 or 3 weeks! It’s almost not worth their time, they don’t get paid for learning, only for earrings, so if I immediately go into teaching a new technique, once again that cuts their profit.

Argh, it’s complicated.

When I came back we ate lunch, Hugh went to school, I started writing my last post, then there was a trip at the school which I tagged along for. We went to Trama, which is a weaving cooperative based in Xela. There, they work with 5 communities of women, doing similar things as AMA, but solely with weavings. They provide the thread and the women decide what they want to make, what colors to use, and they sell them in the store in Xela as well as make them available to international markets. They also teach weaving lessons there, which is how they pay all their overheads.. Every Quetzale from the sales of their textiles goes right back to them. I like that idea much more than the hourly rates, but AMA/HSP doesn’t have the resources to be able to do it. Of course I bought a scarf and a wall hanging. I might as well go ahead and acknowledge that I have a scarf collection. It’s gone from an affinity to an enthusiasm. Oh well. They’re pretty and I use them and they all have a story!

That’s is well enough for now. I can’t believe how much I’ve written today. I need to get things together for my Xela class! The girls here are smart enough and catch on quickly enough that I’m going to give each girl the choice of what she wants to make and have a handout to instruct, rather than teaching one design to all the girls at one time. This way, there will possibly be more examples for Lupe to take to the store. Ok. It’s been good getting this out.

El Grande Fin de Semana

My weekend was so dauntingly event filled I’ve been procrastinating writing about it. But now things are starting to pile up and I can’t write about mis estudiantes until I write about everything else. I really want to write about the women, but it has to wait.

Friday night we got home from school and Hugh wasn’t feeling well. He was a little bit feverish, and having stomach cramps. We had to leave that night to go to Chichi to spend the night, and he wasn’t up for it. So we loaded him up with some medicine, and gave him a free weekend to sleep it off. After two hours of driving, Lupe, Vlad, Marvin, and I made it to Chichi and spent the night in a little hotel there. We were only in it for 6 hours, so I can’t really make a comment as to whether it was nice or not. The bed served its function just fine.

At 4 again we left the hotel on our way to this attraction near Coban, in the central lowlands of Guatemala. We weren’t going to eat until somewhere around 8:00, so I made sure I sat in front, since my carsickness is so much worse on an empty stomach. It didn’t help that much. Once again, I just tried to sleep through it, though there were occasions when I felt downright dizzy. We drove through the mountains, some of the most beautiful peaks I’ve ever seen. They were completely vertical and incredibly high, but there were still one or two plots of farmland, nestled right onto the peaks. At some point, we got to a bridge over a gorgeous teal blue river and stopped to take pictures. When we opened the door we realized we could see straight down to the rocks below us-the bridge had an iron grating for road surface. It was a bit disquieting. After a while we got back in the truck and drove another maybe half mile until traffic was stopped in front of the end of pavement/beginning of dirt and gravel. We were wondering why there wasn’t any oncoming traffic.. Marvin got out and asked around, found out they were dynamiting the road ahead and it wouldn’t open till 9:00. He told them we were peace corp volunteers (which would make us very important) but I’m not sure if that helped. It was 8, so we went back down to the river to entertain ourselves. I found a rock to perch on to watch the tadpoles, Vlad took some video with his borrowed video camera, and Lupe and Marvin apparently went rock hunting. She called me over at some point because she found a huge chunk of jade. Definitely jade. Later, they also came across this strange rock that was semi-translucent and kind of the size and shape of a tree trunk. It was super soft and brittle, and marvin knocked off a couple chunks with the block of jade. At first they thought it was amber-it’s about the same color and transparency, but when we got it wet it had bands running through it like agate, and it had an obvious crystal structure that was really brittle and fragile. I don’t know what it is, I’m bringing a chunk back though to see if anyone in the US could tell me, or at least cut it into something I could use for jewelry!

We went back up the mountain, where they were letting traffic through, and fought our way through the construction zone, that was probably 20 or more miles long. We finally, FINALLY stopped for breakfast at this cute, small restaurant. It was all open air, and they served us blackbeans and eggs and tortillas. Delicious tortillas. Back on the road, this time Vlad’s in front, another two hours and we’re in the jungle. We turned down an undeveloped road, and every time Lupe opened the window to take a picture wet, hot air rushed in. We passed through some small rural village, which was interesting for me, because the costume changed quite a bit with the heat. The women there wear cortes with the specified million yards of fabric, but instead of wrapping it around the waste multiple times, they have what looks like an elastic wasteline, and the fabric is bunched around so that it’s more free. Also, they don’t wear huipils like they do here, they wear a spaghetti strap top or lingerie, with a billowy squarish top on top of that, made out of neon lace. Usually neon, not always.

Out of the jungle appeared these really well maintained cottages, and a swimming pool. What? A swimming pool? This place was apparently a kind of resort. There was a man made lake with a swimming pool attached to it, with a large club house that was kitchen/bar/office in the middle, restaurant on the outside, and no windows, just railings. This place is developed around a natural spring and laguna, with a cave and zipline and other things. We paid Q75 for the tour up to the spring, and ate a quick lunch in the restaurant. The tour left at 2:00, and by then it had started sprinkling. We jumped in what was basically a jeep with grandstand seating in the back, drove less than a mile, and they dumped us out at a trail that led to a blue lake nestled in the trees. It was dumping rain at this point, and we waited under a shelter for a while, hoping it would let up. We were there scouting for places to bring new groups of ecotourists in the future with HSP. Kind of a fun diversion for them to do between building stoves and whatnot. We wanted pictures for the new website that Vladimir is here making, so we pushed Vlad and Marvin out with our only rain equipment to take some, while Lupe and I tried to stay dry under the shelter. After about 10 minutes of kicking the dirt, I said “I don’t mind getting wet..” “me neither!” and we ran out into the rain anyway.

Under the canopy there is the most gorgeous vivid blue lake hugged by large leafed, waxy green jungle plants. There were some guides there that asked if we wanted to see the spring, which of course we do, so he took us up a muddy trail, occasionally crossing fallen trees with railings attached to them. At the top of the trail is the spring, which is kind of half cave too. Half of it is overhung with stone, stalactites and all, and half of it is under tree and sky. The guide told us there is an underwater cave there that you can scuba dive to if you want, granted you come with your own license and equipment. Also there is a cave in the wall above the lake (I don’t know how you get to it) that goes back 50 meters, in which the developers found an altar and various drawings, writings, and objects from Maya religious ceremonies. One writing said something about how this was the cave of the Moon, which also has something to do with the corn. I can’t fully remember, and Lupe isn’t a very good translator. Below the cave is a waterfall, which I’ve posted a picture of, complete with rope bridge in front of it. On our way back we stopped back at the larger lake with the zipline, and by god, I did not spend 8 hours being deathly car sick to just look at a zipline! I took off my boots and jumped, clothes and all! 3 times! The tour guides didn’t even bother looking at me like I was crazy, I think they just sighed. Another stupid American. If I only get one opportunity to fly over a perfectly blue lake of fresh water, surrounded by tropical foliage, in the middle of a rain storm, I’m going to take advantage of it.

After that, we walked barefoot back to the jeep and were able to change clothes in the clubhouse. After 8 hours of driving, and only 2 hours of visiting, we got back into that damn truck and headed out again. It was still raining when we headed out, and still raining when we got back onto the new pavement on the way to Coban. As we were going up a steep hill, the truck lost traction a bit, and the wheels spun. It happened again on a different hill. At first Marvin thought there was oil on the road, and he stopped and checked out the tires to make sure they were functioning correctly. After a bit, we came to a place where the traffic was stopped, navigated through it, and passed a tractor trailor, inserted into the guardrail on a pin turn. There was a policeman there, and Marvin asked what was going on with the road.. the policeman said that the pavement was made with bad materials, and so every time it’s wet, it gets slick like cement. It rains for a straight 6 months! So…. I’m going to avoid Coban for a while.

We decided to not even bother going all the way back to Chichi, and looked for a hotel there in Coban. We found one really easily, ate at Pollo Campero again, and I slept like a log. What a good sleep that was. We left again at 7, stopped at a bakery for a breakfast of bread and cheese in the car, and went straight back into that construction. This time I had food in my belly, and the climate was so nice we had the windows down, so I thoroughly enjoyed the ride. The landscape there is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s close to the Rockies in Colorado, but imagine that but populated with farmland and the unimaginably vibrant colors of native dress. There is something so inherently gorgeous in the mixture of impossible landscape and human endeavor.

When we got to Chichi we went to one of the same restaurants we went to last year with the whole group. Apparently Marvin and Fernando and some of the other guys that drive/are firefighters in Chichi own in or something. We got a delicious lunch for free, either way. Then we left to check out the market. We went in one shop (thank god one with a roof) for one second, turn around and it’s pouring. We’re at the gulch of two hills, with the street rising on either side, and at the bottom is an open vent for water. The amount of water that was coming down was completely awe inspiring, and the sheer amount of water that came rushing down those hills was quite the spectacle. Especially to the right, where the hill was higher, the shack-keeper in the street there was wearing sandals with a two inch platform, and was still over her ankles in torrential brown water, laced with plastic packaging. We stood there for a good 20 or 30 minutes, waiting for it to let up, which eventually it did, but the water was still so deep in the streets. We were running out of time before Marvin came to pick us up, so we braved it. Towards the left the water wasn’t ankle deep, and most the people had cleared out, so it ended up not being hard to walk. We checked out some tiendas, walked past the giant white church where I took a memorable photo last year of a woman selling flowers, and went to one shop where Lupe knew the merchant so figured she could get good prices. She wanted coins, antique or replica coins with holes punch in them for jewelry. There were a few, most didn’t have holes, and I just plain don’t much like the idea of putting these pewter coins in the jewelry. It’s hard to make something like that look valid, or stylish for that matter. What we did find were these charms- nickel I think- handmade in the shapes of birds, peacocks, roosters, donkeys, an owl, a fish, something that looks like a platapuss?, and a lion I think. We got everything they had, 8 in all. I think they’re adorable. Don’t know what to do with them, but I love them. Then we went to another store where we bought clothing for alternatives. It’s the same woven articles they have in all the tourist shops around here, but half the price since we were basically buying wholesale. I made Lupe get wrapskirts, 24 in all, of every imaginable combination of colors, and she also got these blouses for her “gay customers.” She knows her clientele, I’ll give her that much. A lot of my suggestions for buying are coming from Meg, who emphatically and ecstatically told me right before I left that “tribal patterns are so in right now.” I got online and looked up Urban Outfitters’ website, and sure enough, it’s all over the place. Actually last night Meg sent me an email of a lot of things that are popular in NYC that have Guatemalan inspired patterns. Really detailed descriptions of things that are or will be successful… I know that one of Meg’s many talents is merchandising, and watching/analyzing/making predictions in the fashion scene, so I totally trust her, and I’m really psyched for how good this might end up being for Ben and Lupe in the store. I’m amazed with how lucky this is! So I’ve been pushing her suggestions, and they’re going with it. I hope it works out for the best. Every day I go in the sewing studio and ooh and ah over the new patterns Sylvia is making. Seriously, these bags are so amazingly cool. I can’t wait till one is done so I can post pictures. And I want one of each. And one of each for Meg, and one of each for Mom, and one of each for everyone I know.

Soooo, 30 minutes late for Marvin, we find him and head the heck home. That 2 hour drive was like dessert. Got in, and I’ve rarely seen Hugh in such a giddily good mood! He had a ball here by himself apparently-Claudia and family left for Tehutlah, so Hugh got the run of things. He tends to incline towards a solitary nature, so he enjoyed the lonesomeness. Got to wake up early and play guitar or cook or whatever without worrying about waking people up, got to go to bed really early at night without me trying to drag him around, walk around in his underwear, who knows. He thinks he was just exhausted and had eaten something bad, because after a long night’s sleep he didn’t feel sick at all anymore. So great news with him, I was worried about him all weekend and wasn’t able to call to check up on him.

That night we ate dinner together, drank un pocito tequila, and Hugh and Vlad traded off playing guitar (folk for pearl jam.)

And THERE. was my weekend. Tah dah!

Jueves y parte de Viernes

THURSDAY!

What a massive day. Wednesday night, Marvin came to the house. He’s one of the drivers we had when we came here last year. He usually lives in Chichicastenango, which is about 2 hours away. He knocked on my door and told me to be ready to leave at 4:30. So in my brand new room I slept like a feather, which is the farthest thing I can think of from a rock. Every time a car went by or a dog barked I woke up. Plus the room is really big and smells kind of bad, so it was just a bad night. So 3:30 rolls around and I’m awake but stay in bed till I have to get up. Marvin and I leave at 4:30 and I have to tell him I don’t know much Spanish, which really might have been a bad thing to do, because instead of trying to talk to each other, I think he thought of me as being kind of hopeless and we didn’t talk at all after that. We picked up Sylvia at her house and got on the road.

5 hours later we’re in Antigua, stopped in front of a hotel which apparently Lupe and Vladimir stayed at that night. Lupe jumped out and directed us to a restaurant to meet her at. There I had a giant bowl with a mixture of fresh fruit, granola, and rich yogurt. Which I ate about 10 bites of. Seriously, the roads around here are nothing I’ve ever experience before. Add that to the nature of the truck, and I’m toast. It has a row of seats behind the driver that’s equal the amount of space as probably my Camry, but it’s the cab of a truck, so the windows are small and placed more industrially than esthetically. Then the windows are tinted, so I’m in a truck pod, I can’t escape the interior of the truck, so I get so unbelievably nauseous. The only thing I can do then is to just try to fall asleep. Which I did. But it didn’t help my appetite.

After we finished breakfast, we all piled in, Vlad included, to go to a market in Antigua. This town is tourist city. There were probably more white people there than Guatemaltecos. Antigua is also ancient. It was the capital of the country for a while, till a water volcano destroyed it. That’s right, a volcano erupted that was full of hyper-heated water and killed everyone. I’m not sure what year that happened in, but it wasn’t the first time Antigua was destroyed either. There was a fire at some point too, if my memory serves me correctly, and each time the city was rebuilt it was in a slightly different location, so there are technically 3 different Antiguas. The market was kind of like an outdoor shopping mall full of those kinds of stores that you see in tourist towns. Carved masks and lots of weavings. There was one store that sold all second hand Mayan traditional clothing, which is where we got a bunch of belts and different patterned items for inspiration and to actually use for new jewelry ideas. I also made them get this unbelievable brilliantly colored Corte. Cortes are traditional skirts that is honestly just made out of straight yardage. It is rectangular in shape, and contains something like 5 yards of material. It’s wrapped around the waist several times and secured with a long woven belt that is also simply wrapped around and the ends are tucked in. Usually, the corte has a simple vertical and horizontal cross embroidered on top of the multicolored fabric. Carlos told me the pattern of the horizontal line indicates the days of the Mayan Calendar, and the vertical line signifies the months. These people are the real deal. I’m telling you. When your every day clothes have that many hidden secrets, you’re not messing around as a culture.

After we got what we were looking for there (I got a belt with birds embroidered on it, what a surprise,) we were walking through the market, talking about ideas with Guatemalan jade, as we then also stumbled onto a store exclusively selling it. Lupe asked where the storekeeper got her jade, took a card, and we went back to the hotel to pack up the two new travelers. Lupe made a few frantic phone calls which I couldn’t even begin to translate, I had no idea what was going on, and then told us to hurry, we were going to the jade factory. I’m pretty confused at this point, too. She gets in a cab, we follow in the truck, and end up at this compound behind a tall steel fence and razor wire. We knock at the door, totally uninvited, some lady comes finally and lets us in. On the right, under a corrugated steel roof and a fence are 5-6 men and women in front of lapidary machines, grinding and polishing. On the left is a larger roofed section with some bellows and hammer, which I take to be the metal working side of it. We follow the path back and back, through papaya trees, to where some automatic machines are cutting giant bricks of jade into more manageable pieces, and go inside this giant, expensively furnished house in the middle of a giant, well manicured yard, sit at the dining room table and order things. They brought out every color Guatemala had to offer, every shape, and we even ordered some custom. Lupe knew of one other factory, apparently, so we got a little from one and headed to see what the other was about. That place was smaller and clearly more geared towards tourists. The silver workers were under and open air studio type building (which I am incredibly jealous of) and inside was a showroom with all their makings. Lupe asked for the raw stones, no silver, and some lady scratched some up unwillingly. We looked around, noticing how the prices were not only high, but they were marked in dollars, not quetzales, which is a very bad sign. The lady ended up telling us their jade was something like 10x more expensive than the other places. So we left there in a hurry.

It’s about 1:00 now, and I’m thinking we’ve done what we needed to do, we can go home now and be back in time for a late dinner, but no, we’re off to Guatemala City. All five of us and luggage included. We stopped at Pollo Campero (the chick fil a of Guatemala) and headed to a shop downtown that vends fabric. I’ll just go ahead and say that this place is my heaven. It is a cooperative project where traditionally made Guatemalan fabrics are woven in bulk for the world market. It’s incredibly good quality, incredibly well made, stunningly beautiful, and incredibly expensive. I got the honor of being looked at as the most educated in style and fashionable person of the bunch, I guess my qualifications were that I was young and from the U.S. Also, being related to Meg counts in my favor. I basically got to pick out all the fabrics for the new line of bags Sylvia is making for AlterNatives. I was in heaven. Her designs are all so incredibly cool, one of them is actually inspired by a bag I sent to Lupe, telling her something like it would be popular at the store. So that bag will be made out of the corte we bought in Antigua, and then others from the fabrics we picked out Thursday. 4 in total I think. Heaven. And I want them all. Sylvia is so incredibly talented as a seamstress, and the work she and the two other girls do is just amazing. I want one so bad and they haven’t even finished the designs yet.

Well, anyway, enough of my bliss session. We got back in the car and made the long trip home. I was in the middle of the back seat, which was good because it gave me the full view out the windshield, but bad because I’m trapped. I don’t know what it is about boys. It’s like they expand once they sit down. They will take up as much space as they believe they can physically allow. So I’ve got my knees jammed together, halfway in Sylvia’s seat, because as time goes by, Vladimir just expands. It’s a physical law that applies to most boys that will forever confuse me. I think if I took a particular offender and tied his legs together, after 3 hours in a car, the rope will have frayed and snapped. Such is the force of the expanding boy. (Sorry Vlad, this isn't completely directed at you, but boys in general.)

Sorry, that was quite the tangent.

Once again, incredibly sick. Vladimir keeps talking to me, and I keep uh-huh-ing, but I just can't can't keep up with the chatter. With my stomach about at the level of the gravel beneath the tires, I’m just not up for brainwork. I want to go to sleep. Eventually I think I do.

We arrive around 9, eat some black beans and eggs, and talk for a while. Claudia introduces Vlad to the house. I think he’s only staying here about a week though. He says he wants to live somewhere that is more socially active. This place is a bit of a wallflower as far as that’s concerned. I like it that way though.

Friday morning Lupe’s got me up and supply shopping again. I was supposed to go to Espunpuja, but I told Lupe about the troubles I was having there, and she basically decided to cut out losses and told me not to go anymore. If this isn’t their thing, this isn’t their thing. We’re just going to waste money and time and my patience trying to change it. So I played hooky on espunpuja. I’m a bit relieved about it. Hugh, Sylvia, Lupe, and I, with Marvin still driving, ran around town getting ribbons, beads, and leather together. We came back and worked feverishly until we couldn’t stand it anymore. It’s frustrating, though. Lupe has examples of jewelry she wants to reference for new design ideas, which I’m all about, but as we were shopping, she made it a point to buy the exact-to the T-materials that were used in the examples. Same leather, same beads, same ribbon, same colors. It’s scaring me. I’m not into that. We get back and she starts more or less going at it. She has an idea in mind, but doesn’t have the means to follow it through. It’s kind of what I went to school for, so I was pretty successful with it. I don’t think she quite understands the creative process. Coming up with an idea, which is where she’s at, and she’s good with that, but then brainstorming, refining, thinking through the details of it. Sketching, playing, working, getting to know new materials. It’s difficult! Making jewelry out of textile is general is difficult, unbelievably, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to do it myself for something like 2 years now, unsuccessfully. She started cutting and stitching and gluing, and I could tell she was really unhappy with how it was going. I got myself some clear thread and that ribbon, and I’m kind of excited with what I found out I could do with it. I think what Lupe was working with-the original weavings-is a good plan, well representative of the region and culture, and will work, but will be really hard and take some time to figure out. I’m up for the challenge, though. What else I’ve got going on with the ribbon, though, I think will take on a different life. I major part of Maya culture is maize, corn. The Mayans figured out a way to grow and prepare fields so that they could harvest the same fields year round without tiring out the soil. It’s an involved process that has been difficult, since, to reproduce, but benefited them by making it, literally, so that they only had to work 3 months out of the year to provide all the food they’d need. This then allowed the Mayas the extra time and freedom for religion, art, cosmology, study of the heavens, and abstract though in general. The science museum in Richmond has an upcoming project with this farming method that Ben (Lupe’s husband) has a part in, and HSP is planning some events in correspondence with it. Soooooooo, I’m thinking about this jewelry having some design element of the corn leaves in it. We’ll see how it goes. Lupe seemed ok with that. I couldn’t tell if her lack of excitement was directed at the project in general not going the way she wanted it to, or frustration for her unsuccessful hours of gluing weavings (trust me, it was hard to watch that beautiful hand woven fabric get cut and glued and cut some more. I’m about to do the same things to it.. I’m sorry, weaving gods, don’t punish me!)

I went to school after that, in no mood to put up with any crap. I couldn’t help but feel like I was being treated like a preschooler by Rosario. She had me read this book about the sun, and another about the rain, which were meant for kids. I understand this concept, I did it with Carlos. I’m on a gradeschool reading level, here, so I’ve gotta read gradeschool books. It’s the commentary provided with it that killed me. “And the sun makes the water in the oceans turn into clouds!! I don’t like thunder storms, they’re scary! Don’t you think so?” Yep. I did have a science class when I was in 3rd grade. And please talk to me with your adult voice. Claudia called Olga to tell her about Vlad, who’s going to be a new student, and I think told her I was unhappy with me teacher. She asked me, quietly if I was happy with my last two weeks, and I told her not really. I’ll tell her the full story of it sometime, but there’s never really any privacy. I actually still have one more class left since I missed the one on Thursday. I hope I can take it with someone other than Rosario. She’ll probably just try to get me to fix more jewelry. She offered, very emphatically, to come to the house and teach me here. She really, really wanted to do it. She tends to be of a lazy nature, being a hamster and all, so the only way I can figure why she would want to come over so badly is so she’s close to all my jewelry equipment. She wants desperately for me let her be in my class, she likes shiny things so much, and she’s so emotionally involved in my repairs to the things she’s brought me. I think it was a strategy. Anyway. I think I’m done with her.

After class we came home and I left again for a voyage throughout Guatemala that had me jumping in jungle lakes with all my clothes on, among other things. I’ll have to write about it another day, it’s too late now and I’m too tired, but there will be pictures of our adventures on Flickr. So you can check those out before you get the full commentary if you want.

La Semana Hasta Miercoles

I feel like I’ve been pretty busy so far this week, but I can’t remember doing anything. I haven’t had a chance to get online since Sunday, so not much in the way of updates. Right now it’s Wednesday night, and I’m writing this in a document to post later when I can wrangle some internet. I might have to put it on a zip drive and go to the internet café. We’ll see what happens.

Saturday: Hugh and I got up and made a big breakfast. I made the world’s most perfect hashbrowns that have ever existed. And some so-so eggs. Then we went out to towards the parque to see what there was to do. Hugh especially wanted to go to the English-language bookstore because he was out of sleazy thrillers to read. I guess everyone needs a break from cultural ethnomorphagraphy. Hugh is the type of person that when he needs to choose something, he does it carefully, and he weighs it out long and hard before anything of importance happens. So we were in the bookstore for a good long while. In case you’re curious, I bought The Flounder, by Gunthar Grass, which I am enjoying very much, probably because it’s one of the weirdest plots I’ve ever tried to follow, and another very odd looking book, a fiction about Halley’s Comet. On the back there is a quote from Tom Robbins saying “Wow! This book would melt the top ice off a bucket full of stars!” I decided to go with my gut and trust Tom. Hugh got the Phantom of the Opera, and something terrible about 50’s style gangster sleuths in Old Time California. Or something. After that we came home. Hugh spent up all his energy with decision making. I went out by myself and got some produce (3 plantains and a pound of tiny native pears for 10Q, pound and a half of tomatoes and a red pepper for Q7.5 [that 8 year old that was keeping shop was a hard bargainer, she totally ripped me.]) and I went up to the second story of the market because I was looking for a skirt. All that packing and I didn’t bring anything nice to feel pretty in! One pair of sneakers, flip flops that I don’t wear outside the house, 4 pairs of pants, 4 or 5 tee-shirts, 3 long sleeve shirts, and various types of accoutrements for cold weather. Really, with all the traveling I do and dust I breath, that’s hardly enough clothes to successfully get me through a week before I need to pay for laundry. I try to wait 2. The whole ground floor of the market is temporary stands full of cheap crap and food, the second floor is more empty, more calm, and permanent shops mostly of the touristy persuasion. Lots of scarves and weavings and carvings that say “Remember Guatemala” in Spanish. I got what I thought was a wrap skirt, got home, and it ended up being wrap style pants. A little odd, but very comfortable. I’ll have to take a picture later. It’s winding into the rainy season now, so I actually doubt I’ll get a chance to wear them.

The rainy season here is the real deal. It’s not what I thought it would be. I imagined what you read about with rainforests.. Every day in the afternoon there’s a big crazy deluge, with perfect unclouded sun and warmth before and after. No. It’s more like there’s wet haze all morning, in the afternoon it starts raining around 1, and then it doesn’t stop until 8, if it does even then. It’s moderate from June to August, with what I can only describe as an unreasonable and unexplainable 15 day dry spell mid Augest, and then from the end of August to November, it’s rain all day every day. No haze in the morning, just rain. The air never dries out, your wet towel stays that way for a month. Your clean laundry in the closet is cold and damp when you put it on. Oi. I’m a little concerned about it.

Sooooo, I have come to decide that the one pair of shoes that I have here that I am willing to wear outside the house, some $20 sneakers that I bought for the sole reason that they were exactly the same color as the dust I remembered from Espunpuja, are just not going to cut it. One, once they’re wet, they might never be dry again, and they’re only cloth, cheap cloth at that. Two, once those dirt roads in Xeavaj and Espunpuja get wet, well, they’re more slip n slides than roads after that. So I have a distinct feeling that my classes will commence in those places only after I complete a mud hike to get there in the first place. I’m on the hunt for hiking boots.

Sunday when I wake up, the one thing on my mind is boots and I can’t sit until my need is satisfied. We went up to the park at around 9:30, so I could see the church procession. It’s a full out formal affair, I had no idea. First a well dressed crowd assembles around the mouth of the church courtyard, then you start seeing musicians dressed in tuxes and beautiful latin banners with silver embroidery, and they start filing onto the street, parade style. And then, from behind the tall walls, comes 12 men carrying a platform, pall-bearer style, with the gilded throne of Jesus, complete with velvet, flowers, the heavenly corona chased from sheet thin gold, the works. There’s also two people carrying a life size angel that reminds me of a doll. When the puppet-masters stop sharply, her joints move as if she’s walking. It’s kind of creepy. The procession starts when the 3 trumpets, 4 trombones, and a couple 10 year old drummers start their processional, and the whole thing goes ever so slowly, all the way around the park. The whole thing. Every single Sunday. Apparently there are also other types of platforms that the men carry. Hugh saw this two weeks ago, only instead of Jesus on the throne, it was some sort of silver knight! After we watched that for a while (I’ll have pictures of it up soon) we went to the Maya Café for desayuno (breakfast) and had some good eggs and black beans, tortillas, plantains.. it was good stuff. With that in our bellies we headed off to Democracia to look for my boots. I heard there was a mall there called Paiz, and I figured that would be a better bet than one of those creepy dudes in the street to try to buy some quality boots at. It’s about a 20 minute walk, and we had to pass through the open air market, which is massive and impossibly crowded. I get kind of worried in places like that. It’s easy to get distracted and lose, or “lose” important, and expensive, items… such as money… and cameras… so we tried to get out of there. I went to every shoe store in Pais, practicing my very best Espanol: (Yo busco las botas… para caminar en las montanas.. Tienes?) I understand if you’re a salesperson, or a Spanish speaker in general, you have to work really hard to understand what I’m trying to get at. I think sometimes they told me no just so they wouldn’t have to deal with me. So no boots in Democracia. I even tried to look in the market stores there, the ones that are actually in buildings, but I got really creaped out. My comfort zone is not bartering in Spanish, and usually they’re not much interested in having me understand everything they’re saying or doing anyway, it’s easier to just give me a number and not let me leave. On the way back to Xela, about 3 blocks from the Parque, on the other side as our house, we passed a very reasonable and safe looking shoe store where I saw many boots through the windows. I wandered in, and a very helpful and easy to understand woman showed me what they had, understood what I was looking for, and by god, I found me some boots. And she even took 50Q off the price when I told her I needed to go home to get more money. I need to work on this bargaining thing. Anyway, mis botas are wonderful, though they desperately need to be broken in. They’re heavy and leather and very comfortable despite being stiff, and they were probably about half here of what they would be in the U.S. Hoo-rah.

Monday we went grocery shopping and went to school. Not a whole lot to speak of. I still dread Rosario as if her name were Mrs Clemmer and she was teaching sixth grade world geography…

Monday night I had a nightmare that I was shot 3 (or 6?) times in the stomach, and had to find someone to drive me to a tienda here so I could buy minutes for my cellphone, because I knew I was dying and I wanted to talk to Hugh one last time.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a nightmare.

Tuesday Hilda and I went to Cantel, and Hugh stayed around here. It’s my last class there before we get silver and start going at this jewelry thing for real, so I threw my last techniques at them, inspected all their work extra carefully, and had them make the exact replica of the most complicated earring, substituting crap for silver wire. That day, Hilda said she was caught up on work, so she sat in and I taught her quickly too. I guess she’s been watching everyone else for a long time, cause she just picked it up and did it right away. If only everyone were as good with their hands as my boss and my driver! She’s also a rampant perfectionist apparently, too. She didn’t make any that she thought were good enough, though they were completely perfect. Olga and Dilma, of course, are always flawless and bashfully modest, and Juana, oh Juana, she tries so hard. She’s so much better, but she’s still not consistent. I’m finally better at communicating, and being less intimidating, and being more friendly and open minded and complimentary, so she’s being more respectful and open minded of me and my teaching style too. After class, once again, I hardly have time between getting off the bus and school to eat lunch, much less do homework. 5 long hours of rosario. This time she tried to give me all her ideas for “Liiiiiinda!” jewelry that I should design. Things that she tried to convince me no one’s ever thought of before, and insisted that I should invite her to the US so she could design a line of jewelry for AlterNatives… I wanted to stab myself in the eye with my pencil. I want to learn Spanish! Not watch you draw zigzags for 3 hours! Spanish!

This morning, Wednesday, my class is here in Xela. I really didn’t have anything left for them to do. I get my materials tomorrow when we pick up Lupe (which should be pretty exciting) and they’re learned everything I’ve got, so I gave them all the different kinds of beads I had and told them to play. I think they might have been kind of bored. I know it’s kind of a waste of their time. But I can’t cancel a class, they need regular practice with their hands to be able to remember fine movements, so I know it was to their benefit to be here even though it was pointless. They didn’t complain or anything, but they weren’t all that excited either. I ended class probably an hour early, and afterwards there was all kinds of action going on in the house, trying to get ready for Lupe’s arrival. Apparently Lupe is bringing a guy named Vladimir with her, someone who went on the week long vcu trip this year and is returning, though I don’t know what for. The plan is that me and Sylvia (the director of the sewing project here in the house) are going to leave here at 4:00 am to drive up to Guatemala City to retrieve Lupe. We’re going in the truck, and this guy Marvin, who I remember from my first trip here a year ago, is going to drive us. So Marvin is staying here tonight, and tomorrow night we’ll have him, Lupe, and Vladimir too. It turned out that the best thing for us to do is to rearrange room situations so that Lupe stays in the room I’ve been in, Vlad and Marvin are in the room next to my old one, and I get a new bedroom. My new room is a manse. It’s huge. It’s for 4 or more people usually, I guess for if AMA has a lot of renters or a lot of volunteers. It even has it’s own attached bathroom, though the sink only turns on and off by the valve at the base of the wall, and the shower doesn’t get hot water. So really, I’re not exactly benefiting from that part. It’s also on the side by the street, so it’s rather loud. At this point, between the fireworks and the loudspeaker cars, I’m kind of immune to traffic noise, though. My only complaint is that the room smells bad. Musty. Hugh said while I’m gone tomorrow he’s going to buy some incense. I hope that makes it better. I’m wary of incense as a cure to stink, it’s usually rather the cause. Anyway, we’re picking up Lupe tomorrow, and she’s got lots of ideas for new jewelry designs that don’t use any metal, only fabric. We’re going to look in one store in Guatemala City that exclusively sells well made textiles made for Guatemalans by Guatemalans, and then we’re going to Antigua for similar materials, I think. I’m not sure. I’m just happy to have my materials tomorrow, much less get to play with more! The only problem with the arrangement is that I have to miss class on Thursday, which is ok in one sense because I can make it up on Saturday, and terrible in another sense because it extends my time with Rosario by 1 more day. I ran into Carlos on the street today and he asked me how I was liking class. I told him, truthfully but mildly, that I didn’t like class with Rosario much, that I didn’t think I was learning much. He didn’t act surprised at all. He’s not the type to badmouth his co worker, but he did offer to meet with me other times to practice and talk and get more help if I wanted, which I do. Augh! I need to sleep! This thing took two hours to write almost!

(This was written wednesday night and I just got around to posting it. My weekend was crazy. More later.)