Tuesday 02/28/06

There was a long line leading off to the Taca desk when I walked into the airport. Luckily, instead of just hopping right onto the end of it, I asked a security guard if it was the line for Lacsa, and he told me no, that Lacsa was using the Virgin Air desk down a little ways to the right. The line there was pretty long too, but at least I didn’t have to wait in both. The very friendly woman at the desk, when it was at last my turn, reseated me because she said my assigned seat was between two people, she asked whether I wanted an aisle or a window seat and after some internal debate, I decided I’d rather risk having to squeeze past people if I had to pee, than miss any sights out the window. She really did me a favor as it turned out, because I had the whole row to myself, which was pretty luxurious. I began reading the Graham Greene novel Dov had given me only a couple hours or so earlier, just before leaving Venice, partly to keep my mind off the people I was leaving and partly to keep myself occupied until take off – it’s a kind of a morbid side of me I suppose, but I always like to stay awake until the plane is in the air, for fear that it will explode on takeoff, and although the ultimate result would be the same, I’d hate to sleep through my own death. Once the plane was up (successfully) I stuck with the book through the first chapter and then stashed it inside my jacket and closed my eyes. I guess I must’ve gotten some sleep, because the flight seemed to go pretty quickly, although it didn’t really feel like I ever managed to drift off. I opened my eyes after awhile and discovered the sun rising through the clouds as I looked down at it from above. It was intriguingly beautiful from that angle.

On the seat next to me were a couple scraps of paper, which I ignored, and a little packet of “aero chips” which were kinda puffy and crispy, and of a familiar but unidentifiable flavor. I flipped the pack over and found that they were platanitos, which was translated for me as plantain chips – there I was, not even off the plane and having a new culinary experience and language lesson all at the same time! I finished the chips, which weren’t great, but were salty and so, had the strangely addictive quality common to their breed. I watched the lush and undulating landscape pass by beneath me, but decided I shouldn’t get my camera out of my bag that I’d stashed away in the overhead compartment – probably a silly decision; those out of the plane-window shots would have been nice mementos.

I glanced down at the scraps of paper that had been next to the chips, and discovered they were my entry papers, waiting to be filled in by me. By that time, the plane had begun its descent, and so I hurriedly filled in my primer nombre, segundo nombre, and primer apellido, and then hoped they’d forgive the blank spaces labeled segundo apellido and apellido de casada. I wished I’d paid more attention to Spanish naming conventions, but it was too late to worry about that then, and I was too busy digging out my passport number and looking on my boarding pass (which had become a bookmark, now that I was thinking it was off duty in its official capacity) to find out what my flight number (numero de vuelo) was. Luckily there were good translations of the longer questions at the bottom of the form, so I was quickly able to write a zero in answer to, “how many minors or legally incompetent persons are traveling with you?” but I glanced around the cabin with an appraising eye just to make sure my answer would withstand any scrutiny at the customs desk. I felt certain I had no live plants or animals with me, and was fairly confident there weren’t even any dead ones, so that got a “no” as did the rest of the questions because I suspected that " no" was the answer they wanted, in order to make both my life and that of the customs agent easier.

The landing was gentle and quick after briefly swooping in over prettily painted houses and factoryish-looking buildings. We deboarded (debarked? got off? dismounted? left the plane, you know) and walked a little way and found the line for customs. Things went quickly and I was greeted pleasantly by a young woman who didn’t seem to mind my “I don’t know” answer to her question about where I was intending to stay in Guatemala. The airport was small. I tried two atm’s before finding one that would take my card, got some colorful local cash (Quetzales, you know) in denominations too large to be easily used. I walked out front, found a seat on a step and dug out my Lonely Planet to see if it would tell me where to catch a bus to Antigua. Before I found the page, a friendly man came up and asked, “Going to Antigua?” I said, “Si” before realizing he’d spoken English. He pointed me toward a bus, and I was off.

The drive was fun and I saw some sights. The bus dropped me off at Parque Central, which is, as the name suggests, centrally located. I found a bench by the fountain, which has four naked women holding there breasts as water flows forth through there fingers, as they seem to projectally lactate the stuff of life itself as a quenching beneficence for all of the suffering children of humanity(see above). It seemed like a sign that this was going to be my kind of place… and even in Venice there were those, who were upset over one little headless Robert Graham nude intended for the center of Windward Circle… ok, ok, maybe there were other issues than nudity involved and this fountain beats the heck outta anything Robert Graham's ever managed, so we’ll let it pass. Regardless, I knew this had to be a pretty good place with a fountain like that there to welcome me.

I read the Lonely Planet for awhile and then heard some music. A procession of school children, led by an officially clad brass band began parading around the square, carrying balloons and shouting chants. They seemed too young and wholesome for political marching, but being an out-of towner, I couldn’t tell what the theme was, or if it was a daily event or if I had stumbled on something out of the ordinary. I got up and walked to the street to watch and snap a couple photos. The whole thing was over in only about ten minutes and then I returned to my bench and the Lonely Planet. Sometime later, it was explained to me that it was a carnival celebration for Fat Tuesday, I hadn’t realized that apparently I was about to give up Los Estados Unidos for lent (and a bit longer).

My research finished and braced with a handful of addresses, I headed off in search of a room and a Spanish school. My search was fruitful and I found a nice landlord who runs a pleasant little place where I rented a room with a table and lamp (and a secure door, so I needn’t worry about leaving laptop and money behind. There’s a common bathroom and shower across a small courtyard, and a kitchen and balcony up a staircase outside my window. It’s maybe a bit damp, but not irritatingly so, and being on the ground floor, I do hear people as they enter, but perhaps if I stay I’ll move into one of the upper rooms, or simply ignore it. I’ll see how it goes tonight.

Took a walk in the afternoon, explored the city, got lost twice and each time found myself and made it back to my rented room. I’m sure there are people who speak English here, but haven’t encountered any aside from the broken English of my landlord (Edgar) and the better, but slightly taboo, English of the Director of the Language School where for the most part they stick pretty faithfully to Spanish.

Now, I’m beat. School starts tomorrow and I need some sleep, even if I really did get some sleep last night, it wasn’t deep and couldn’t’ve been more than a couple hours. I bought a little clock to wake me for school, I don’t want to be late. It’s been a big day, and a pleasant one. Venice seems so distant with so few things to remind me of it… hard to believe that that lovely farewell was only about twenty hours ago.

Wednesday 03/01/06

I shouldn't've worried about waking up on time, the roosters helped me out with that. The noises of people coming in and out needn’t’ve worried me either, didn’t hear a thing and slept great. Went to School this morning, and boy do I have my work cut out for me. Mi maestra se llama Alejandra and she walked me through the conjugations of ser, estar, y tener, and covered a little vocabulario with me. After class, I came home, took a cold, but not unpleasant shower, and set off for a burrito place that Edgar had recommended. Had a very good burro vegetario and headed down to check out the wireless potential at parque central. Looked all over for wireless internet yesterday, finally found it at a painfully touristy spot called the Bagel Barn, just off the park. It worked alright, but cost me five dollars for a bagel (Leonardo de Veggio, it was called__ no that’s not true, but that was on the menu, I almost ordered it, but ended up with one called Guate Guate) and a water. The bagel was good and the water was bottled (I’m kinda terrified of the other, to the point of keeping mouth shut in shower and drying my face carefully__ I don’t like stomach aches) but seemed kinda pricey for Central America. This is a pretty touristy ciudad, although not many North Americans, or so it seems so far, anyway. So I was happy with the burrito, which by comparison was a bargain, and the waitress was very nice. The point of mentioning the Bagel Barn though, is that last night, when I connected to the internet there, I noticed that there was also a connection named “central” which I guessed was at the park, so my plan for today was to go check that out.

So, after lunch I headed to the park. Got a connection, but the sun was so bright I could only barely see the screen. The computer was a big hit with the local kids who quickly gathered around and had fun randomly tapping buttons. I was glad to let them play, but did my best to keep the keyboard clear of potential ice cream drips___ several landed on the backpack, but I can live with that. After downloading email and deciding to read it later at home and out of the glare, I sat back to read a little bit. Before long I noticed a girl sitting at the next bench looking at the book and then whispering to her boyfriend (loudly enough that I heard it though) he’s reading Graham Greene! I looked up and smiled and she explained that she’d been reading Travels With My Aunt, and hated to finish it because she was enjoying it so much; she only had twenty pages to go. That started a conversation, which must’ve lasted a couple hours or more, which was great because not only were they (she’s Nyama and he’s Jaron) nice, friendly, intelligent people, but also they were the first people I’d really spoken to in a day and a half, and I really don’t want to repeat the no-speak experiment down here. Maybe when I finish The Power and the Glory, I’ll give it to Nyama. I hate to give away a gift from dov, especially when it might’ve just been lent to me and not a gift at all, but I think he’d understand. Hmmm, we’ll see. Not certain that I’ll see them again, they’re only in town a few more days, but I agreed to play scrabble with Nyama if either of us could find a board.

Now it’s quarter ‘til nine and I’ve got homework to do before bed.

Thursday, March 2nd

The learning curve in my Spanish class is pretty steep, or feels that way to me. Today was only day two, but I’ve got a lot of info flyin’ around my brain. I feel like I’ve made quite a lot of progress, but it’s rough goin’. I’m definitely gonna study a lot this weekend. It’s a one on-one-class with a great teacher named alejandra. She’s been teaching for seven years and she’s been at this, her third school, for three years. She likes it, but is hoping for a career change because of the unpredictability of the hours. Since the class is one-on-one, I can obviously go at whatever pace I choose, but I really want to try to make as much progress as I can as quickly as I can, so I can start communicating. We’ll see how it goes.

Wandered around the market for a couple hours after class, snacked on a sliced mango and browsed the wares. Kinda lookin’ for a good pair of flip flops, these shoes and socks are buggin’ me. Had some vegetable fried rice at a nice little restaurant. Went to the park and checked my email, but I might have to opt for some other solution to the internet connection because the wireless is pretty unpredictable. Stopped off at an internet bar on the way home to see if I could plug my computer up to their internet, but I don’t have the right port, I’m gonna try to see if I can transfer things via my mp3 player by way of usb, which the girl at the bar said they had, but I didn’t see it and I’m not sure if she understood me. We’ll see. I shoulda thought to bring a cdrw, but live and learn and I’m sure someplace here will sell me one if I look around... and looking around is what I do the most of as it is.

Antigua is a lovely city, and not just because of its name, which of course begins and ends with my favorite letter, as do some of yours, and you might know how I feel about that. But also its architecture and it’s colors and it’s setting, amidst lotsa green hills and beneath the towering volcano. I hope I can figure out a good enough internet connection to upload some photos with this; I took some the first day, but have neglected photography since then due to time or distraction… maybe both. This weekend, during study breaks, I hope to explore, and I’m sure I’ll take my camera with me then.

Time for homework (tarea) and maybe a little Graham Greene, before bed.

Later, still Thursday, 8:30pm (Guatemala is on US central time, just like Omaha, but they must call it something else… it’s an hour behind Ohio and Nuevo York and two hours ahead of LA, if you can believe that).

Finished my homework and went up to the internet bar across from the big yellow chuch (la merced, I’ll tell you about it later___ pretty impressive, but deserves photos and more time for the description, just added a little photo to the right, but I'll get the whole church sometime soon). Anyway, went there and tried plugging in my mp3 player to transfer this and the pics I took Tuesday so I could post it, but no luck. Ended up having una cervesa and watching the football on espn while listening to guns and roses singing about paradise city… just as I was thinking maybe I wasn’t that far from home afterall, I finished my beer and headed back toward my room, greeting the friendly looking guard (I’m not sure what he was guarding, but he was impressively uniformed, blocking the sidewalk, and holding an impressive looking sawed off shotgun, as I walked past) who hola’d me with a smile as he stepped back to let me by. The rest of my walk was pleasant and a bit sentimental as I watched the lovely yellow crescent moon (la luna, dontcha know), waxing at about one-eighth, laying on her back, and wondered what she looked like from Venice and who there might be lookng at just then her just then and were they maybe even thinking of me. Goodnight.

One last bit as I turn off this machine now fully recharged from its afternoon in the park. I was just now reading in the graham greene book, as the murderer lay dying and talking to the priest… something reminded me of what aliza was saying the other day about fairness, and then my mind drifted to the people here, and the people there, and the pandemic discontentedness seemingly everywhere, though I’m not yet cynical enough to believe that it really is everywhere… the thought is not complete, but I think it has something to do with the senseless futility of dissatisfaction… clearly love is our only salvation.

now goodnight__ and sleep well, mis amigos.