- Spending Thanksgiving without my family was weird, but now I’ll appreciate being with them that much more in the future.
- I went out with Sergio for a couple beers that night. After a few pool matches on a table as flat as a putting green and a few rounds of microbrewed hefeweizen, deliciously potent IPA and Cabro (the other big Guatemalan beer… also owned by Gallo), drunken man talk in Spanish was inevitable. For such a lonely day, it turned out to be a great night. Sometimes, I guess, man must drink as well.*
- Machismo really is a big problem here. I mean, I always heard it was, but I guess I just assumed it was limited to cat-calling and the occasional pinched butt cheek. I was wrong. A lot of young guys will often juggle two or three lady friends while keeping the girls in the dark. Of course, young guys become old guys with families one day, and they still hold onto the beliefs that women are inferior, deserve to be domesticated, and absolutely should not leave the house. Having a son is a triumphant moment for a father; having a daughter is too often akin to hiring a new maid. The women here who try to break this cycle by going to college and getting a good job often find themselves unable to get a man.
- After two and a half months of cold showers and sleeping with a pillow the size of a couch cushion; after twelve weeks of a diet consisting of two helpings of beans, four eggs, and at least a dozen tortillas almost every day; after eighty-four days of waking up to the screaming/crying/laughing/beat-boxing of a three year old child, I’ve finally decided to move out of La Casa de Paty.
- I got them all going away gifts. For little Javier and Diego, I brought back a new soccer ball that my little sister got for free and my copy of Spider-man 2. Diego was asleep, but Javier’s face lit up like I’d never seen before when he opened his eyes to find that new, shiny ball in his hands. He hugged me and said I was his friend forever (didn’t quite make it to bff status).
- I moved into the Casa Argentina, a hostel in town with WiFi, hot water, and six power outages a day. Transient travelers and long-termers cook side by side in the kitchen here, creating an interesting mix of accents… unfortunately most of them are in English. In my room, my new bed might have been a comfy mattress fifteen years ago, but the padding has worn thin and I can feel every spring and coil suspending my body. That’s what you get for $3 a night.
- After two days of being here, it feels like I’m incapable of speaking Spanish already (though I can listen better than ever). I’m going to have to make a move soon.
- I went to an elderly home with my friend Rachel, Paty, and Paty’s church group this Sunday morning. We sang, prayed, and ate together for about an hour and a half this past Sunday morning. The twelve elderly ladies and gents there were about 4’5”, with cobweb color hair, leathery skin, and squinty smiles. They all showed off their lack of teeth in glee with the songs and the food. It’s a beautiful thing when faith goes beyond words and becomes action.
*Please drink responsibly.
No comments:
Post a Comment