Quetzaltenango (Xela) - life in "Casa Argentina"

(Repost with pics updated!!!)

Continuing my stay in Guatemala, after my hitch-hiking adventure, I've decided to stay in Quetzaltenango, better known as Xela (Altitude: 2450m) to pursue my Spanish lessons. I was lucky enough to have met a fantastic Spanish teacher and the hostal that I stayed in were full of Argentinians, Hondureneans, Guatemalans and Spanish folks, couldn't have been a better place to learn the language! Given that I arrived during the raining season, it really was the perfect time to sink into the books as everything around me is soaked :)  (They are really not kidding about rain-season!!!)

When I first arrived at Casa Argentina, I knew right away it would be a place I can call home for several weeks. I was spending time with a group of 4 ppl (Argentinian, Mexican, Uruguayan, American) where everynight we would watch a movie (in Spanish of course!) projected on the wall of the dorm. Note to self: always travel with a projector! and we would often cook together as well. We had a convivial time together! For the amount of time I stayed there, I kept seeing groups come and go, but for the ones that stayed, we always hung out together. My semi-usual company were 2 Argentinians, a German, a Guatemalan, a Spanish and an American. Yes, they were all guys! Not that I had anything against girls, but for some reason, Casa Argentina had a very uneven ratio of men-women of 8-1? or was it 10-to-1! Needless to say that, I was being chatted up with the groups of guys that come to the Casa (especially the nomad artesanos) every time. This definitely was helpful to my Spanish learning, abeit a bit space-encroaching. Towards the end, albeit I had a room of my own, I felt suffocated, I needed my own space and I needed to get down to sea level, as the altitude, combined with the winter that was arriving was starting to give me headaches several times a week!!

My days in Xela consisted of Spanish lessons, regular visit to the coffee shop for my study, the traditional market for supply of produce as well as to chat up with the Taiwanese owner of a shop! I couldn't believe my eyes the day I saw the Taiwanese stand selling "動物蛋糕" (animal egg cake) in Xela! The owner, Mrs.Ko was a sweetheart and invited me over for lunch one day with the family. I was sooo thrilled to eat taiwanese food after months of tortillas, frijoles and pollo frito!! We ended up spending the rest of the day together at the local feria. Nothing like the meeting of Taiwanese counterparts high up in a mountain city of Guatemala! I also found my supply of soya milk, what a delight!!

*** Did I ever mention that Guatemalans have a national obsession with "pollo frito" (fried chicken)? On the weekends, one can see queues in front of Campero, the guatemalan version of KFC. ***

As part of my daily visit to the coffee shop, I befriended a barrista and encouraged him to make designs on my cappu. Within a month, he was able to produce the following design and told me that he is thinking of opening his own coffee shop instead of working for another! On the day of departure, I even received a souvenir pen from him :) Nothing better than a souvenir that I can use on a daily basis!

And then there's Maria! An indigenous lady, whom sells her woven products weekly at Casa Argentina. By buying from her, it can't get more "fair trade" than that! :) One night, it was raining hard and thundering and Maria, with all her missing teeth, wanted to buy some tortillas for dinner but was afraid to head out alone. I proposed to go with her and she kept on calling me "chula" (meaning pretty lady) and let out yelps of "Dios mios, chula", and performed the sign of the cross, everytime a car zooms past us. Maria, an adorable creature with an astonishing height of about 1,40m, typical of the mayans (tiny!!) And everytime I made a purchase from her, she blessed me over and over for helping her feed her family. When asked to take a picture of her, she scuttles away for over 10 min to arrange her hair, her belt, her clothes and put on her silver earrings for the picture session! A delight to watch her go to and about. From what I can gather, her usual meal consists of a pile of tortillas (usually 8), with salt or pepita (squash seed powder mixed with salt) and sometimes frijoles (beans) and cheese. Let me not get into the dietary dificiency of the Guatemalans... long story short, I was getting desperate to eat home food!!

During the time I was there, I have met a few groups of nomad artesanos. They have always fascinated me as I cannot imagine myself trying to undertake their style of living. Making and selling art in order to survive and to keep traveling. The hardest concept for me to grasp is not the little possessions one has, but rather the ability to live day by day, earning as you go, without a fix job or income. The idea of the so-called job security is so ingrained in my mind that living with so many unpredictable elements seems an intolerable thought. Most certainly it isn't the most economically sound way to live, but then again the fact that they can do it, show how little do we really need to live and be happy. Most of them are also musicians. Art and music, mingled with occasional MJ (about a tenth of the price from home!) is sufficient for them to subsist! One of them, went as far as living solely for the purpose of standing up against all things "Babylonean" (Definition of Babylon: a city devoted to materialism and sensual pleasure) and inciting folks to wake up from the control the Babylon has on all of us. He spoke with feverish passion and devotion to his cause. Talking to him helps one peel away the learned habits and so-called "normal" ways of living that one has adopted after years of living in this materialistic, capitalistic world. A real free-spirit, so pure that one can describe him as a niño (a child). He taught me, shared with me, his concept of life and how to watch the world with the eyes of a child. That is how one will not be fully sucked in by this mass engine of consumerism that we have undertaken.

All beings are a form of energy. Once born, this energy is then covered with the physiological shape given at birth, combined with education, cultural upbringing, etc. we begin pilling up with layers of learnt behaviours that we acquired whether to protect ourself from the dog-eat-dog world or simply as a natural adaptation to the society in which we live in. Memo, my tall Spanish friend, has an ability to sense and to see through that exterior layer when talking to you. Talking with him, feels like one is talking not man to man, rather energy to energy. Yes, this world is unfair, and he has given up all the priviledges that came from his birth country to live the life of a nomad artist, denying all comforts, all luxuries and take it upon himself to spread the awareness of that we need to rise against "Babylon". He has the gift of reaching deep within you and see the energy, that pure form within us and call upon it. As much as I tried to fight him, he managed to break through. However, I am not ready, I don't know what I am waiting for, or what I want yet, but nevertheless, the conversations we've had are not easily forgotten.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, Memo has professed his love to me, a love that is not physical but rather spiritual.  A love from one of the purest being I have met ever met, it was almost all too much too bear, for I am not used to open up so fast to another being, but yet I felt his energy, as strong as ever. What am I afraid of? Afraid that another soul will see through me? Afraid of myself? Afraid to give up all the comforts of my birth right as he has done in order to pursue a life free of guilt and luxury? Afraid to see the truth and having to give up what I own? I see myself facing the same fear that one is hesitant of giving up to understake a year-long journey such as the one I am doing. The same obstacle that I had once faced, but at a different level...

On another hand, I am rather flattered to be appreciated by such a pure soul, however, I cannot profess that I am as pure as him. What I really like to understand and feel, is what exactly is he able to sense. His keen sense of feeling, detecting the vibe of others, regardless of physical appearance! That gift of his, is beyond my understanding, yet fascinates me to no end because I cannot grasp it. He later told me, later confirmed with another guy friend of mine, that I emenate some kind of energy (not physical!) that men can sense, and thus explains the approaches of multiple men in my journey!?!? But then again, I thought all women whom travel alone are approached by latino men!! What do I emanate? I want to understand!! Can I turn it off so I get hassled a lot less? Or to avoid the kind of weird man who followed me one day, on the street of Xela, in broad daylight. He approached me and said that there was a guy doing something while watching me, and showed me the hand motion of "masturbation" with his hands. So he said he will accompany me in the meantime. I took very little notice to him as I was in a big hurry to get some errands done. He then kept talking and asked me if I understand what that hand motion mean. I was like er... yeah, and kept walking. Then he keep repeating "quieres conocer el p_____?" (Do you want to get to know the p_____?) I had no clue what that p word was, but guessed that it must have meant what I thought. And then he went on to describe, in Spanish of course, something about between the legs and where the milk comes out!! Qué barbaridad! (What an atrocious thing to say!)

On a happier note, one day I hiked to a nearby hill and met 2 girls playing outside their house: Maria and Ana, 7 and 9 years old respectively. I played played tag with the girls and they then invited me to see their dolls in their house, where I was told the parents weren't home. I hesitated for a moment, but took the chance. The girls showed their dolls, their toys and their room to me. We even played "salon de belleza" (beauty salon), to which the girls braided my hair. The moment the girl took my hair in their hands, I felt a warmth that was long forgotten. It brought me back to the moment when my mom did my hair every day before heading to school in front of the mirror. A glimpse of childhood brought upon by the pure curiosity and love of a child. My heart broke and I was so close to tears all of a sudden, completely overwhelemed by the sensation I felt. I felt such closeness, affetion without fear, without holding back anything at all. I did not want that moment to end! The feeling was stronger than me. Again and again, I am amazed at what children can do to me! Their love without bounderies and expectations is what touched me the most. The last time I felt as strongly was when I was sick in bed from vomiting throughout the night thanks to an infection. My mom woke up in the middle of the night to care for me with the kind of love and tenderness that only comes from a mother to her sick child. The love the children and that of mom's have completely broke all layers of defense I have ever built, with a single stroke. My heart was overjoyed, my soul touched and my defensive habits released its grip to savour the moments of love and playfullness. So long had I strived fo rindependance, searched for manners of doing everything on my own that, the unconditional love from a mother and the children, touched me like no other. Made me feel like, perhaps I should stop trying to do everything on my own because although we can go on solo, in the long run, we need to love and be loved. Perhaps I am so used to expect the worst and to protect myself from the world, that letting my heart open up, like that of a child or that of my dear friend Memo, is such a hard task to do. Something that should be natural from born was lost and found again, thanks to Maria, Ava, and my dear mom :)

Almost seven weeks later, goal achieved (which is to study Spanish) I was finally ready to say goodbye to Xela. This tops the most amount of time I've ever stayed in my trip thus far. Looking forward to leave Guatemala, although I was not able to see too much of the country for having sacrificed the time on the language, but then again, who said I want to follow the gringo trail to the dot? :D

Guatemala to Mexico and back : my hitch-hiking experience

Ayeeeayyeeee! Apologies for the long wait! For those who wonder, I am safe and sound in Xela (Quetzaltenango, Guatemala) studying Spanish. Which is one of the reason that made me neglect my inner reflection... I agree, it is long due! Soon you will find out why. However, let me start from the events of about month ago. (for more pics, refer to the links on the right under Guatemala)

Laguna Pacaya on top of an inactive volcano, Chiquimula

Out of the blazing heat of Honduras onto the highlands of Guatemala! After my 5 weeks in Honduras, I returned to my Guatemalan family and, as promised, I had the yummiest Tamale (Usually chicken/pork simmered in a tomato sauce held together by a mixture of corn and rice dough cooked in banana leaves)! It was a very pleasant stay as I needed a good and comfy home to come back to, and that is exactly what I received... with an extra spice. Spent a good week with my friend's family and played with the kids. That is when I realized how different it is to interact with kids that have been educated by parents, in comparison to the kids from the orphanage. Finally I do not feel so inadequate! True I was overwhelemed in Santa Barbara with 40+ kids as I felt like it was impossible to please all the children but with 2 kids at a time, the interaction is more pleasant, controlable, maintenable! I am not entirely a lost cause, yay, a good consolation :)

 

Back of a pick-up truck

I took advantage of this comfortable home to plan my next steps until the next unexpected event that propelled me to get out ASAP. For a good week, I stayed at my friend's brother's house. It was a newly built house that is very similar to that of ours in Canada. So similar and comfortable it was, with the comfort of unlimited internet access, watching the late night show and sharing the cultural shocks with my friend (him and I having both lived in North America and now in Guate) that the whole stay felt almost eerie. I was home... but in Guatemala! More home than I would have ever imagined that could happen on this trip! My friend and I hiked, cooked, watched tv together and shared stories. Until I started to feel a different vibe. My friend has interpreted this friendly bonding experience as something else. I felt frozen with fear as he leaned over my bed one night before bedtime when we were both alone in the house. Looking back, I am greatful that some men have good self-control over their emotions and have a sound moral to respect a refusal. Needless to say that I had a very troubled sleep that night...

The next morning, I knew I had to leave asap. Onwards to a travel that is free of obligations or expectations, which was the reason for my travel. I needed healing time and the journey to Chiquimula to visit the lake on top of the volcano Ipala provided exactly the kind of freedom that I desired, my own space, with no one to respond to. It took me a little over a month to heal from this intrusion into my personal space. I am amazed at how long it took me to heal despite the lack of physical contact. Removal from the element of cause, create a zone of comfort, self-retract into shell for protection, go through the motions of life in denial that it happened, finally reflect and accept. This sheds light onto what a real traumatic experience can take a toll on a human being.

During my hike to volcano Ipala, a Guatemalan has approached me and informed me that the hike up is dangerous for a lone girl and proposed to accompany me (at this point, I had so much conflicting information with regards to the safety of the hike that I relented). We started the climb, ever so slowly as my company needed a break every 5 min. When we finally reached the beginning of the real hike (in the woods), he sat down and told me he was thirsty and tired. He then took out a flask of some transparent alcoholic beverage, and emptied it in one shot and threw the empty flask into the grass. Here I am, in the middle of the mountain, with no one in sight except for my drunk companion continuing telling me stories of tourists being robbed or worst. I looked up and down the path, weighting my options with this man and my own safety. That is when he started to tell me that I like you, you're a nice pretty girl. One never knows in Latin America when they really mean it or not, or I am never sure due to the subtleties of the language. However, that was the last drop of discomfort I could withstand as it ignited the fear factor in me and I ran down the hill, fearing for my dear life, never dared to look back.

As I arrived to the sight of a house, one of the three talking men asked me if I have already seen the laguna. I described them my experience and he actually told me not to worry, that the man is harmless and offered to accompany me past the drunkard. What a relief! It turned out that the poor fellow has obvious drinking problems and was trying to befriend me by giving me compliments and earn some tip by accompanying me on a hike that he was not able to physically carry out.

Angel and I in the back of a pick-up truck

Trying not to fall off in the
back of the truck

Forward the days to my first latin-american hitch-hike experience. I met a Spanish guy who has covered all of his distance in Central America, for a period of 3 months, solely on hitch-hiking! His stories spontaneously reinitiated the adventure in me. We hitch-hiked, hiked, traveled together for about a week. He taught me tricks of the trade as well as Spanish and in return, I taught him English. I was a bit skeptical about this method of traveling, however it turned out to be a wonderful experience. We connected more with the locals, heard their stories, shared a lot of good time in the front/back of the pick-ups. Rain or shine, travelers do not stop! We were banged around in the back of a truck once and almost got bounced out from the back door! Another time, as there were only enough space for one person in the front seat, I stayed in the truck and inhaled some fume due to malfunction of the car (our driver could not stop the engine otherwise he couldn't start it). During one of our breaks, waiting for our next ride, a young girl generously offered us a drink and offered us a place to stay if we ended up stranded without ride out of town. Meanwhile, she shared with us her story of being an illegal migrant who left at the age of 15 from her hometown, alone in search of work in the US by road. The story was heart-breaking, valiant, filled with determination and motivation driven by poverty. I looked upon the face of a pretty face, albeit young she carried a well-worn expression, one that has lived way more than her 21 years of age. Experiences such as this one, is something that is not easily accessible when one follows the "gringo trail" (gringo is a rather derogatery term used in Latin America for white Americans, and sometimes expands to all white travelers).

Todos Santos, Guatemala

Angel and I hitched about a total of 18 rides together. We traveled to Todos Santos, a small village in the north of Guatemala, at around 2500-3000m altitude. One of the most peaceful village I have been to. The scenery is one of lush green and serenity. The local Mayans speak "Mam" and Spanish and is one of the few Guatemalan indigenous Mayan village that men still wear the traditional "traje" (dress). We hiked on non-rainy days and stayed and lived and ate with an indigenous family. One one of our hike, we encountered an old man, who was hiking up the mountain at a steady pace without rest. We greeted him the usual "Buenos Díaz" as it is custom to do in all of Guatemala (Guatemalans are very polite, friendly and helpful in general), and asked him his age: 70. Amazing! He is definitely more fit than we both were as we had to rest...

The Guatemalans of my home-stay speaking "Mam" :) Enjoy!

Once we reached on top of one of the hill, I kindly asked to use the ladies room and were greeted with a warm welcome. A lady with her 4 kids enjoyed the attention and the picture taking. Not all of the folks dislike camera, however the majority still do not appreciate picture taking, as they do believe that cameras steal pieces of their soul away with every shot.

We hitched again onward to Lagos Montebellos (Mexico), which is a group of around 56 lakes on the border of Mexico/Guatemala. For me it was a visa run as well as accompanying my friend Angel on our hitch-hike journey. The lakes are beautiful, pristine and little visited by foreign tourists. It was not difficult to find a lake all to ourselves for bathing! The water was rather nippy but clean clean clean!! Qué ricoooo!!

It was time to part ways as Angel was headed further into Mexico and I, back to Guatemala. After we parted ways, I decided to continue the hitch-hike solo as I really enjoyed it and needed to experience it solo. Every time I put my thumb out, my heart tensed. I made my way back to Xela (Quetzaltenango) with 7 rides and 1 bus ride, safe and sound. Some people really would get out of their way to drive us to our destination and purely enjoy the company of another traveler on long journeys. My last ride even invited me for lunch, to which I cannot refuse as it is impolite to refuse an offer from a host, and even more so from a man in Guatemala! Mom, if you're reading this, I'm safe and sound! Mexico and Guatemala are not countries known with security, however, I want to have faith in the people. Most people are really fantastic and friendly. Those who give a lending hand, are usually those who do not have a lot and understand the difficulty of traveling/living with little dough. Not a single "car" had stopped to pick us up, only pick-ups, trucks and sometime SUVs.