Lesson for the day (quiz to follow):
Macadamia nut are not indigneous to Guatemala. Yet nestled in the hills very close to Antigua is Valhalla, a macadamia finca (farm) that was started some years ago with starts from the California Macadamia Association. There are ten varieties of macadamias, seven of which are poisonous. Here in Guatemala is an edible hybrid unique to the farm on which it grows. Valhalla is a green enterprise--there is no electricity and absolutely no pesticides or chemicals are used, not even organic ones, because they would detroy the delicate organisims that live in the soil and help the trees grow. Unlike many introduced species around the world, the macadamia tree neither crowds out other necessary species nor does it produce anything that is toxic to the natural environment. In fact, macadamia trees are great for cleaning the air. They are likewise very resistant to all kinds of pests. Macadamia trees take about 4 or 5 years to begin producing nuts, but they can be planted right in the middle of corn, coffee, and bean fields. Macadamia oil is high in omega 3s and is an excellent humectant. It absorbs easily into the skin and is resitant to whatever it is you call it when oils go bad (my ability to think in English is rapidly deteriorating. Not that I am thinking any better in spanish).
The finca has provided thousands of starts to many people to plant on their own lands. Initially, the finca bought the nuts from the growers, but soon discovered that the growers could get more money selling the produce themselves. Valhalla no longer accepts volunteers because they were way more work than they were worth and the farm isn't set up to care for somewhat pampered travelers looking for a cheap place to stay.
Interesting but totally useless factoid for the day: Guatemala is the number one exporter of cardomom, mostly because, although it grows abundantly here, no one from here can stand the stuff.
I am telling you this while I enjoy my last moments in the b & b de las capuchinas, eating, what else, but chocolate covered macadamia nuts.

My friend Anne left yesterday to go back to the States. I am spending the weekend in a bed & breakfast because the student house is now very empty and not very comfortable--my room there is cave-like with no windows. A single lightbulb hangs out of reach. There is a bed and a small wooden table with no chair: very institutional feeling. So here I am in a very comfortable room with wifi. And windows. And a chair.

This weekend is the celebration of the founding of Antigua, so it is very crowded with lots of tourists from all over and just as many men carrying obnoxious and scary shotguns of some sort.

Late this afternoon I heard the drums of a parade, and I set out to watch. The sky was dark, so I grabbed my REI rain jacket and followed the sound of the drums. Three different marching bands followed each other through the streets of Antigua. As I was walking along side, the rhythm of three separate beats pulsed through the air and seemed to rearrange the molecules of my body. At the tail end followed a large wooden platform, ornately carved and carried on the shoulders of 16 men and women, all clad in black suits. The platform was the vehicle of a large, finely dressed image of Jesus. Life size dolls, my daughter Lisa calls these old-fashioned Catholic statues, but they are not really dolls and are also much bigger than life-sized. I am not able to fully put into words what the experience was like, what with the drums, the dedication and utter seriousness of the men and women shouldering such a heavy weight, and the rain. It began to pour in that wierd, warm way that makes no sense to Pacific Northwesterners: heavy sheets that should chill a body to the bone, but don't.

The three bands of young people marched on, rapidly gettintg saturated. Jesus was covered with a Hefty bag, yet his carriers didn't miss a step. People crowded into store fronts and under inadequate overhangs in unsuccessful attempts to stay dry. Some gave up and settled into the restaurants of Antigua, but watching those musicians in their startlingly white uniforms valiantly marching through the small rivers that earlier had been the cobbled streets of the town, I felt compelled to stick it out. So I plowed on. The parade finally made it to the final destination, the cathedral, which sits on the main plaza of Antigua. Each band put on a final show, and then Jesus was solemnly carried in and placed in his glass fronted show case where he will wait out the year until it is time to do it all over again. Kind of like the Thriftway drill team that marches in the Strawberry Festival parade on Vashon Island, only not.

Next week I will be moving into the school, which will feel a bit like starting over, I think. I am falling a bit more in love with Guatemala every day.

I have 27 mosquito bites on my stomach alone. For all of you who recommended stuff like vitamin b, fabric softener sheets and organic repellant, GTH (if you try, you can figure it out:)). Gimme the real stuff and let me bathe in it, please.

Okay, now that I have gotten that one off my chest (which, BTW, is the only part of me that is mosquito bite free), I can maybe provide a quick update on the wonders that are Guatemalan.

First, the nasty stuff: let me just say that the antibiotic Cipro is a godsend. I spent 24 hours making passsionate love to a toilet that did not flush at night. "Gross" is an understatment. I am not sure what I did b/c I have been very careful with the water, but who knows. Anyway, I am fully recovered and able to eat all of the rice, beans and papaya that I want.

The school I am attending is fabulous. My profesora is a 26 year old Mayan named Elsa who is studying to be an accountant. She is very exacting and patient & is helping me clean up a lot of really bad habits. I get a whole bunch of homework every night & I am happy to report that I can now read Spanish really well at the 4th grade level. I am also learning some stuff about Spanish punctuation that will help me a lot when I am working with students who are hispanohablantes. I promise I will not go off on an English teacher tear, but I will be happy to share with any of my coworkers who are interested when I get home. Let me just say that Spanish really doesn't seem to have such a thing as a comma splice.

Last Thursday our school had an activity that took us to an out-lying village named San Antonio. It is a pueblo that specializes in textiles and needle work. We went into a family compound where the residents/co-op members showed us all kinds of typical aspects of their lives--everything from a corn fertility dance to a mock wedding ceremony. And of course, when all was finished, we were invited to spend as much money as we liked. I think "Buen precio, mi amiga," is how you say Holly in Spanish because so many people have looked me lovingly in the eye and uttered those exact words.

The textilework is utterly amazing. Elsa told me that she spent two years working on a piece of needle work that she wears to special functions at church and fiestas. Seeing how much time these women spend on their knees in order to make a few dollars is humbling. My friend Anne, who returns to the US on Saturday, is doing her best to help those women up off their knees--she is buying a lot of cool stuff.

Anne and I spent the weekend traveling to Lago Atitlan with Jason, a former professional ballet dancer turned middle school English and history teacher we met at our school. We spent the night in a little pueblo named San Marcos. According to the Mayans, the location is a vortex of healing. Hippies and new-age types have picked up on this & have started to build healing centers & yoga studios and places where people smoke a lot of pot. Still, it is a very tranquil place that is not really touched by the incredible lure of the dollar and we spent a day swimming and jumping off rocks (okay, i didn't jump, but Anne and Jason did) with a whole bunch of little boys in their underpants. It was very cool.

From San Marcos, we walked to a town called San Pedro--2 hours on an up and down road that we shared with tuktuks, horses, dog and pickups with beds filled with people. oh yea--also camionetas (chicken buses to most of you). San Pedro was everything San Marcos was not--kind of an icky, party-central mentality. We left the next morning for Chichicastenango, home to the biggest mercado tipico en Guatemala. I got carsick on the way, so the only thing I purchased there was dramamine. Still, we had fun, although it was very crowded.

I could really go on and on and on, but will stop here. The people we have met--indigenous & fellow travelers alike--have been wonderful so far! Tomorrow I will learn more about the volunteer work I will be doing--I think I will be in a school for los pobres doing what, I do not know.

I have loved reading comments from those of you who have chosen to respond. Would someone please let me know when Laura has her baby? I will light a candle at la iglesia de la merced:).

When I figure out how, I will post some pictures. Stay tuned...

So far, I am impressed by how well I remember Antigua from my two-week stay here last year with Lisa. I haven't gotten lost yet, which is amazing as those of you who know me well will realize.
The house where we are staying is not a homestay but is filled with students from various places. There is a woman--Suzi--who comes in and cooks for us, but she leaves in the evening and we are left to our own devices. So far, It is a great arrangement, and all of us in the house seem to enjoy each other's company.
I don't really have much to say that feels deeply meaningful or profound, although I can report thay last night we went onto the roof of our house to watch an impressive lightning storm over one of the volcanoes in the ring that circles Antigua. The lightning was almost better than 4th of July fireworks, and a lot cheaper. The really cool part was, in one of the dark moments between lightning flashes, the top of volcan de agua lit up with lava like a match head. It only lasted for about 30 seconds, but we were all properly in awe.
Tomorrow our Spanish classes begin and I hope to have more interesting stuff to say as we prowl around.
Adios for now.

This is Suki. She will miss me the most.

I am leaving for Guatemala on Friday with my very good friend, Anne. I will be gone for 2 months and this blog will be my way of feeling like I am talking with all of the important people in my life. I have never done anything like this trip, so I am nervous and excited. Anne will be with me for the first 2 weeks and then I will be on my own. I hope this blog will serve as a means for me to journal about my experiences. I have also never kept a public journal before and as a writing instructor, I think I am feeling a little of what my students feel when I give them a new writing assignment. What are the expectations of my audience? How do I even address my audience when I am not even really sure who my audience is? Some of you I of course know, but even with that information, you are such a motley lot of people, that I find myself a bit unsure what to say. Those of you who know me well will recognize irony in that last point:). I almost always have something to say. I hope I don't bore you! Let me know what you think, or if you have questions, ask!
Peace,
Holly