Escuela en San Pedro

Three weeks I have been here, and I loved every single day.

San Pedro is a fantastic town to stop and learn Spanish. There are many good schools, cosy bars and many other travellers with interesting stories. Accommodation, food and lessons are extremely cheap: my hospidaje is $2,60 per evening, I eat like a queen for $5 a day and my classes are $1,30 per hour. Life here is simple and cheerful, every day passes like a soft breeze on a warm summer day.

Walking the streets to find a nice place to stay it was Marie who started talking to me: “Are you looking for a place to stay? I know a really nice Hospedaje.” It was more her smile then the offer which made me says: “Vamanos!”
I found a new girlfriend! Wow we had so much to talk about. For two weeks we were neighbours in ‘Hospedaje Lolita’ and for two weeks we could not stop talking. Marie went to school too, so we had our own schedules, but as soon as school was done we would look each other up and spend time.

Swimming and washing in the wonderful lake

walking the streets

buying vegetables at the market

Playing with Freddy and talking with our hospedajes Horacio and Lola, exploring the little gallejuelas (sand paths) of town, visiting a different place to eat every night, discovering hidden talents among the most fantastic life music I’ve ever heard, emailing our friends, watching a movie and hanging in our hammocks.

Boy how I missed her unorganized personality, her room full with chaos, her bright always presented smile, her cheerful ‘Hola!’ to anyone and everywhere, her stories and her listening ear when she left. We laughed so hard and much, it sometimes hurt. And it was fantastic to share the opinions about the town and other travellers with her.

San Pedro is a little town on Lago the Atitlan, an area that reminds me incredible of Vancouver Island. A huge lake surrounded by high ridges and three inactive volcanoes. There are little towns on every flat and agriculture (corn, coffee and avocados) on every slope. Every morning you see the people go to the fields to pick the fruits of the earth and look for wood. Others will go to the lake to wash clothes and shampoo themselves.

So far I’ve seen woman only wear traditional clothing. Every town has its own colour and pattern, but it’s always a blouse tucked into a long skirt, which is a blanket, wrapped around the waist with a hand made belt. Carrying huge baskets on their head they are the colour and heart of town. It’s fantastic to see them going about. The more I understand Spanish, the more insight I get about that those people are just like us, something that is often seen otherwise because they live so different and poor. But here as well there are problems with the government, schools and religion. And many people have many ideas. The generation that starts ruling the scene gets more and more education, and many won’t let the authorities walk over them anymore.
My teacher, Fransisco, 24, is a source of information; often he gives me long explanations about the people in town, the traditions in culture, the problems with politics and the reasons behind it. I love my classes and I’m surprised how well my Spanish is progressing. Not that I can understand fast conversation or talk without thinking, but I can ask more than: “Como esta!” and “Que es eso?” Finally there is some more room to have local chit-chat, I love it, and I enjoy learning new words every day. It’s the first time in six years that I go back to school, and it’s extremely funny to say: “Shall we meet up after school?” or “I have to go to school tomorrow morning, so I better make my homework.”
For ten days I had five hours of class, one-to-one.

One day Marie and I crossed Lago Atitlan in the lancha taxi to the village of Santa Cruz to go for a walk.

She had heard about this hike form another traveller and we were determent to check it out. The pathways here are not very clear or with signs, it’s not wider then horse-paths and it just goes wherever the people need them. I have no idea why I thought I could do this day bare feet, something wasn’t working in my brain this morning. We started hiking at 9am and didn’t finish until 8pm that night.

It was hilarious. We didn’t even hike that far for the amount of hours; we were just so slow because of my bare feet, Marie’s courage to ignore the abyss beside her, a way to long brake enjoying the gorgeous view of the volcanoes and the darkness which made us see kinda nothing. Hahaha, if I think about it. After going right thru the little town where cars were none exiting we hiked up the hill with a lot of huffen and puffen, ending in another tiny place with some houses and very shy kids. The turkeys were awesome and it was a miracle that even here there were three tiny tiendas (not more than a window in a house with a tiny dark room behind it, hung with chains of chips and rows of pop). It saved our lives; we lived on ten different chips and sweet orange bubbles this day. The road we found after this village was hard, I still don’t know how I concurred the sharp stones for a few hours, but we did it, we made it to other small paths, leading down to another village. Dusk was falling and our tempo didn’t really promise to get us there before dark. What ever! We just sat down and enjoyed another pleasure. I can only image what we must have looked like, walking hand in hand, me guiding Marie thru her night-blindness and Marie laughing me thru my soar feet. But of course we got back to a regular street: “Marie! Marie! I can see the street, we made it!’ Hahahaha. All the way down to the dock where, of course, the last lancha had left at five pm. A huge amount of avocados was waiting to be picked up in the morning and although they were hard as stone, we were willing to eat them if need be. But no worries yet, a night on an avocado mountain was only option two, we first had to check out this dark town.
Just talk to whoever you come across is my advice in those situations, and Marie did so to the only guys in the street. She made things clear enough so that one of them introduced us to another guy who knew an uncle who had a car and who could drive us to San Pedro. A fantastic ride with the most fantastic sights in the different towns we passed followed. Four other men came along, we still don’t know if that was for protection or because they wanted to come along for the ride.
What a day!

Of course Marie and I met a lot of other travellers; there are some very unique Quetzals here in town. One of them was Quillermo, 35, from Spain. The days after our meeting followed with cooking dinners for eachother and long days on the roof of our hospedaje.

When I struggled up ‘Volcan San Pedro’, 3020 meters, extremely steep, but boy what a views, breath taking, Marie and Guipi went for a half-day kayak. And after Marie left to explore more of Guatemala, Guipi and I spend a night in Santiago (a larger pueblo on the lake), exploring its streets and market, before Guipi had to leave to go back to Spain.

Every day is a wonderful window to another experience. By now I know some people form shops, some kids in the street, some of the travellers that sell there jewellery in the street, and the mujeres en la Mercado. So having a stroll through town is like neighbouring with friends. Its one of the things I adore in Central America, the streets are so alive and bustling. There is always something to do, especially on Sunday ‘Feriado’ when the people go for a stroll and you see young loved ones sitting together on the curb. We even spotted kids with hoop-and-stick running down the hill. A smile in Guatemala is as frequent as a sunny day in Airlie Beach or a rainy day in Olympia.

The next few days it will be Christmas. This afternoon I will help Lola, my hospedaje, to set up and internet account so she can keep in contact with her friends she meet thru her hotel. And tomorrow I’ve been invited to make Tamales with the family of my teacher’s wife and with the family of Lola and Horacio.

I hope every one will have two wonderful days, with lots of presents, delicious food, creamy egg-nogg (the only thing I would love to be in North America for right now) and lots of games with friends. You bet that I’m playing Mancala at least ones a day.

Hasta Luego!