Greetings from Antigua! I'm here this week babysitting for the world's brightest 21-month-old (who is also bilingual... beautiful). It's a nice break from regular work on top of the calm after the LSAT-taking and house-moving storm of last week.
Antigua, as I've mentioned before, is a little oasis from the normal Guatemalan life. From the volcanos surrounding the city to the wide array of tasty restaurants and coffee shops, there's goodness wherever you turn. It helps that the house I'm staying in is gorgeous, equipped witha courtyard, skylights everywhere, fireplaces in every bedroom and best of all, a dryer.
I haven't used a dryer since I arrived in Guatemala, as evidenced by the stretched-out jeans that recently started falling off me again (which I'm attributing to a decrease in Nutella crepes and rellenitos cravings). In part to amuse the little girl and in part because my emotions overtook me, I hugged the dryer when I saw it.
So this morning I was extra excited as I measured out the detergent and envisioned the warm, SNUG jeans and sweaters I would be able to wear later in the day. The feeling almost overtook the pain from the chest-to-knees array of scrapes on my body from earlier that morning. While enjoying the volcano views and cobblestone streets on a early run, I spent too much time looking at the volcano and not enough time looking at the street and faceplanted. Hard.
After putting my clothes in the washer, I went back into the kitchen where my girl was enjoying her breakfast and was be-bopping along to the High School Musical soundtrack with her when the housekeeper came in the door and immediately began running around with mops and brooms and buckets. We casually wandered out to the entryway where the stroller and washer and dryer are and found a flood.
Yeah, somehow I managed to cause a second major flood since my arrival in Guatemala. The washer overflowed, abundantly. We mopped and wrung and fixed it all up, my girl screaming "agua!! hay mucho agua!!" helpfully thoughout the whole process in case we were unaware what we were dealing with.
Thankfully there wasn't any damage, except perhaps my crushed hopes for dry clothes by noon. My orange sweater is still stretched out and wet (and the scrapes are still stinging).
9.30.2009
9.23.2009
Coming soon:
Sorry I'm behind on the blogging thing. Between a broken computer, the impending LSAT and a weekend filled with bowling and practice tests in coffee shops, I haven't had a chance.
However, expect a massive update next week, featuring honey salted pineapple, double gokarts, special music in church and yoga. You won't want to miss it.
However, expect a massive update next week, featuring honey salted pineapple, double gokarts, special music in church and yoga. You won't want to miss it.
9.16.2009
What a lovely way of saying what you're thinking of me?
I'm in love with my hurricane radio, who lives in Roscoe's glove compartment and is capable of withstanding any storm or battery shortage that may come our way. Every morning he and I (along with my drinkable yogurt) brave the traffic of the Periferico together, a happy (and half awake on my part) pair.
Usually we tune in to "Los 40 Principales," which keeps me current on Spanish pop/reggaeton music so that I can bust out the lyrics to the choruses at appropriate times to prove my Guatemaltecaness. Hopefully my peeling purple tinted windows are enough to keep people seeing me with my coffee mug in one hand, jamming out to "Te Quiero" or "Te Amo" or whatever else happens to be on at that moment.
Lately, though, the station has just been repeating this awful song about making good girls go bad so I've been surfing through other options. Since marimba isn't really my thing and love songs aren't really what I'm craving in the morning, I usually settle on an English station that sometimes plays awesome songs, but mostly plays hilariously awful songs.
Today was no exception. I present to you my new least favorite song of all time: "Having My Baby" by Paul Anka. The worst part? Someone requested it.
Key lyrics:
Havin' my baby
What a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me
and:
You're a woman in love and I love what's goin' through ya
and finally:
The need inside you, I see it showin'
Whoa, the seed inside ya, baby, do you feel it growin'?
Good grief. Nothing like 70s ideas about gender and relationships in the morning plus bad lyrics to start the day off right.
Usually we tune in to "Los 40 Principales," which keeps me current on Spanish pop/reggaeton music so that I can bust out the lyrics to the choruses at appropriate times to prove my Guatemaltecaness. Hopefully my peeling purple tinted windows are enough to keep people seeing me with my coffee mug in one hand, jamming out to "Te Quiero" or "Te Amo" or whatever else happens to be on at that moment.
Lately, though, the station has just been repeating this awful song about making good girls go bad so I've been surfing through other options. Since marimba isn't really my thing and love songs aren't really what I'm craving in the morning, I usually settle on an English station that sometimes plays awesome songs, but mostly plays hilariously awful songs.
Today was no exception. I present to you my new least favorite song of all time: "Having My Baby" by Paul Anka. The worst part? Someone requested it.
Key lyrics:
Havin' my baby
What a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me
and:
You're a woman in love and I love what's goin' through ya
and finally:
The need inside you, I see it showin'
Whoa, the seed inside ya, baby, do you feel it growin'?
Good grief. Nothing like 70s ideas about gender and relationships in the morning plus bad lyrics to start the day off right.
9.07.2009
15 x 5 = ?
Yikes, it's been awhile.
I just got back into Guatemala City after a lovely weekend with one of my oldest friends. My first memory of Krista is washing our hands after an art project in our homeschool group. I'm guessing the fact that we were finger painting means we were pretty young, but who knows. I'm still known to go a little crazy when you put paint in front of me.
Anyway, Krista told me that washing my hands with cold water was stupid, which served both as a public health service and the beginning of a friendship that's lasted... a long time now.
She came down to Guate last week and we explored the nearby attractions: Antigua, Pacaya (the volcano) and Lake Atitlan. While I don't think she taught me anything new about cleanliness, we did have a lot of experiences.
Highlights:
The offer of a suspicious "free trip" to the beach... and lots of other offers, including a trip to Argentina in camper and a life of modeling original jewelry for the crazy-haired hippie who ownded it.
LAVA. Faithful readers of this blog already know that volcanoes kind of freak me out. Well, Krista and I didn't have the brutal climb of last time, but our guide did lead us over two-day old rock and park us about 100 feet from one of the two giant rivers of lava flowing down the mountain. I doubt there are many places in the world where you can get so close to moving molten rock, which all in all probably isn't a bad thing.
A gorgous hotel on Lake Atitlan. We got in too late to go to my standby hostel, but we stumbled across a gorgeous hotel with unique rooms decorated with all sorts of original stained glass and mosaics and other decorations made out of recycled materials. We stayed in an amazing room that was built into the side of the hill - seriously. The bathroom was filled with boulders and one spilled into our room. And the price was phenomonal. (The website is so worth checking out, although there aren't pictures of our particular room.)
Playing cards in the park in Antigua, while happy children tottered by with ice cream cones. Oh how I love leaving the city and being in the fresh air. And swimming in the lake the next day. And laying on a stone and getting tan, until someone came and edged us out of the rock we had rightfully claimed.
And finally, the boy in Panajachel (on the lake) who was selling greeting cards for 15Q each. First of all, all the children selling things there break my heart (and my resolve not to buy things). I chatted with him a little bit and then he offered me the "buen precio" of 100Q for five of the cards. The sneaky grin on his face as I added up five fifteens and proved him wrong is clear as day in my mind. (I ended up buying three.)
I just got back into Guatemala City after a lovely weekend with one of my oldest friends. My first memory of Krista is washing our hands after an art project in our homeschool group. I'm guessing the fact that we were finger painting means we were pretty young, but who knows. I'm still known to go a little crazy when you put paint in front of me.
Anyway, Krista told me that washing my hands with cold water was stupid, which served both as a public health service and the beginning of a friendship that's lasted... a long time now.
She came down to Guate last week and we explored the nearby attractions: Antigua, Pacaya (the volcano) and Lake Atitlan. While I don't think she taught me anything new about cleanliness, we did have a lot of experiences.
Highlights:
The offer of a suspicious "free trip" to the beach... and lots of other offers, including a trip to Argentina in camper and a life of modeling original jewelry for the crazy-haired hippie who ownded it.
LAVA. Faithful readers of this blog already know that volcanoes kind of freak me out. Well, Krista and I didn't have the brutal climb of last time, but our guide did lead us over two-day old rock and park us about 100 feet from one of the two giant rivers of lava flowing down the mountain. I doubt there are many places in the world where you can get so close to moving molten rock, which all in all probably isn't a bad thing.
A gorgous hotel on Lake Atitlan. We got in too late to go to my standby hostel, but we stumbled across a gorgeous hotel with unique rooms decorated with all sorts of original stained glass and mosaics and other decorations made out of recycled materials. We stayed in an amazing room that was built into the side of the hill - seriously. The bathroom was filled with boulders and one spilled into our room. And the price was phenomonal. (The website is so worth checking out, although there aren't pictures of our particular room.)
Playing cards in the park in Antigua, while happy children tottered by with ice cream cones. Oh how I love leaving the city and being in the fresh air. And swimming in the lake the next day. And laying on a stone and getting tan, until someone came and edged us out of the rock we had rightfully claimed.
And finally, the boy in Panajachel (on the lake) who was selling greeting cards for 15Q each. First of all, all the children selling things there break my heart (and my resolve not to buy things). I chatted with him a little bit and then he offered me the "buen precio" of 100Q for five of the cards. The sneaky grin on his face as I added up five fifteens and proved him wrong is clear as day in my mind. (I ended up buying three.)
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