One of the greatest gifts I have given myself was to celebrate my birthday here in Antigua, Guatemala. It may seem strange, but I really have loved my time here. And although I’m far away from my family and friends, this is exactly where I want to be to have my fiesta!
My day started off with finally opening a birthday card my Grandparents gave to me before I left. They told me that I should open it on my actual birthday, which I did. It was really emotional for me to read it because I know how much they care and it was a real blessing to open that card first thing in the morning. So thank you Grandma and Grandpa!
Breakfast was the usual assortment of bleary eyed gringos and bright eyed Gladis. This morning Gladis gave me a birthday hug and the rest of the students wished me a happy birthday (en espanol). Now generally speaking I don’t like big displays of affection, and I was definitely in for a big display at the school. Initially I thought I would get off scott free, no one made a fuss and my teacher gave me a big hug and wished me a merry day. Ten minutes into my lesson as I was explaining my trip to Volcan Pacaya to my teacher I noticed the entire school had assembled. In true embarrassing form, they sang to me Happy Birthday in English and a song about wanting cake with chocolate (in Spanish). It was really sweet. Afterwards EVERYONE, and I mean everyone, comes and gives you a hug and wishes you a happy birthday.
Those who know me well should know that I am a hugger. I think it is one of the most single greatest things in the world. And being so far away from home, it was really wonderful to have these wonderful locals and foreigners wishing me a wonderful day.
The rest of my day was spent studying 30 verbs on newly acquired flash cards. I was sitting with Gladis though as she watched her soaps. It was really entertaining to watch the dramas unfold on screen and have very little idea what was going on. But in true student form I would ask Gladis questions about what was going on. After all this is a time for learning. At one point though I freaked myself out when Gladis changed channels and just happened to land at a time when the man onscreen was laughing really menacingly. So I tried to say it in Spanish, which would be “risa amenazadora”. However, neither Gladis or I could get it on the first try and for whatever reason it was absolutely hilarious. Especially that Gladis couldn’t say it.
In addition to a birthday celebration we were also saying goodbye to two of the students, Clint and Roderick. So it was a big night. Which meant we went for dinner and dancing. Dinner was at this sort of buffet style restaurant with typical Guatemalan fare. I don’t know what they put in their guacamole here, but I swear it tastes like heaven. I’m guessing it is a combination of fresh ingredients and a lot of lime juice! Then we went to La Sala, a salsa club. Even though my old lady tendencies kicked in, I had a ton of fun. Especially when the locals started salsa dancing. I swear it was some of the most impressive dancing I’ve seen.
By the time we made it back to the house, instead of going to bed Erik, Barbara, Kristine, Emma started chatting. Barbara was sharing with us her incredible story of her cynicism while witnessing the ceremony of cacao in San Marcos, among other hilarious tales. But it was definitely bed time, but not before we had an opportunity to laugh at Clint sleeping with his open door and lights on.
Friday, 30 September 2011
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
What did I do today? I climbed a volcano.
Yesterday was definitely a bit of a wash. I really don’t remember anything of note, except perhaps making a joke with another teacher. Apparently in Spanish if you refer to yourself as “caliente”, well things get interesting. My teacher asked me to ask another teacher (after I made the mistake of referring to myself as “caliente”) if she was “caliente”, which naturally resulted in a lot of giggles about it. Apparently it was sort of a running joke between my teacher and Myra, the teacher in the next desk over. Spanish jokes are fantastic. Mainly because, well they are in Spanish!
But otherwise the day was fairly dull. We were supposed to have salsa classes, which just didn’t happen because of the heavy rain. Instead, happy hour. Which I found slightly awkward with my still modest amount of Spanish. It’s weird to be able to comprehend more than you can speak. It is also incredibly frustrating, because all you end up saying is “si, si, si” rather than actually contributing anything of consequence. But as my teacher says “poco a poco”. I also had a nap, which frankly was awesome.
Today however, I can report was very interesting. Mostly in a good way. I thought I had studied a lot, but realized in the morning how little I had really grasped from the previous day. So my breakfast came with a side order of cramming. All in all the class was great, minus the fact that I’m now working on “this, that, these, those” and frankly in Spanish it all sounds the same. It hurt my brain when you would use “esta” and “esta” (this one should have an accent, but I can’t do it on my mac) in the same sentence; and they mean completely different things. By the end of the class my head was nearing metaphoric explosion and I definitely was grateful for the bell ending class.
Although I made another fairly crude joke today (apparently that is all I am capable of in Guatemala). In Antigua it is rare for a tourist to walk past a shop without someone trying to hand you a flyer or inviting you inside for something or another. So today during my class a guy walked around handing out flyers for some tour to Rio Dulce. I made a joke that I should use such paper as toilet paper. Now, this is probably not appropriate for some, but apparently it was hilarious to my teacher. She proceeded to walk around and tell the other teachers and then more people were “in” on the joke. In any case I had a good chuckle about it, especially after the ese, esta, aquello business.
I also signed up today to visit Volcan Pacaya (not papaya as I later told Gladis, apparently I confuse words too...). From the guest house only Emma and I signed up. Emma is a new entrance to the Guest House and hails from Sweden. Also from Sweden was the other Sevilla student who decided to join in on the fun, Theres. The three of us were escorted to the ‘tourismo’ bus, which we thought would take us to Volcan Pacaya. Instead it drove us near the outside of town and then pulled over. The driver got out and said “un momento”. Which turned into 10 minutes. Finally I yelled “Senor, que pasa?” and he informed us that he did not in fact drive to Volcan Pacaya, instead he was waiting for a different bus with a driver who would take us. Which was another 5 minutes. I ended up being separated from mis amigas and ending up sitting way in the back. Which ended up being next to two guys from Quebec! Jan (pronounced Yan) and Mike.
Both were quite friendly, and Mike apparently has even spent time in my hometown and Fort McMurray, so he even knew my neck of the woods. Additionally they gave me some pointers for when I traveled to Costa Rica, including the name of some guy who apparently runs an adventure service (think zip lines, etc.) and will show you the ropes. Just what I need!
The scenery driving to Volcan Pacaya was beautiful. The rainy season here certainly makes the landscape lush. Once we arrived at the entrance of the Volcan Pacaya park, we were greeted with a man selling ponchos and marshmallows. Which my fellow Canadians obliged the vendor by purchasing marshmallows to roast on the lava, or in reality minor hot spots. I was even able to use my expanding Spanish skills to acquire said marshmallows.
To get to the tourist centre, you have to drive through the community that lives closest to Volcan Pacaya. This meant that for about the last 30 metres of our drive, there were 2 young boys chasing the tourismo bus asking if we wanted walking sticks. By the time we arrived at the centre the boys also offered us ponchos. For those interested, they sold ones with no hoods for 5 Quetzales ($0.63 CAN) and for one with a hood 15 Quetzales ($1.90 CAN). Emma ended up purchasing one, which happened to be a highly durable (kidding) “Maid of the Mist” poncho. I had to laugh at that one and I informed Emma of it’s significance. Along with the boys selling sticks and ponchos was an adorable young girl. She wore a little tinkerbell t-shirt, is only 6 years old and apparently likes to dance--I asked.
Our guide was a very slim man who has climbed Volcan Pacaya everyday for the past 13 years. I told him he must be very strong (fuerte), to which he replied "poco" (little). He was quite entertaining speaking in slow Spanish and broken English (albeit good English). There was ten of us in total, a couple from Israel, three possibly German friends, the French Canadians, and the Sevilla gang. However we were not left alone quite yet, about 3 or 4 men on horses followed us during the steep climb offering us “chicas” a “taxi” or a horse ride. It was both insulting and funny. Mostly because you could tell they thought they were so clever calling “chicas, taxi?” and then giggling. They stayed with us almost the entire climb up the volcano. I eventually pulled ahead and didn’t have to listen, but the Israeli woman had to endure it the entire way up.
We climbed for about 50 minutes to get close to the top of the volcano. On a clear day, you can see Guatemala City from there. Unfortunately for us it was a very cloudy day and the clouds hugged the tip of Volcan Pacaya. It made for a beautiful and totally eerie experience to watch these clouds slowly amble past. Especially in the jungle portion, because some of the trees looked truly ghoulish. Plus when we neared the volcano the steam from the lava (which was now a year old) added to the spookiness. Then it started raining.
At first it was sort of a spit. By the time we reached the pyroclastic “sand” and the natural sauna’s it was downright pouring. Having my trusty waterproof jacket proved essential, however I needed to protect my backpack and it’s paper products hidden inside. So I ended up having to leave my jacket open. Subsequently I got very wet. Later I would try to explain to Gladis, in the comfort of our Guest House, that I looked like a drowned rat. I had to make a lot of gestures to get my point across, and was saved by Clint (another housemate) who was able to give a rough translation. It was much more effective than mine, at least for her understanding. I think my attempts to act it out were much more entertaining.
I sort of wish everyone I know could have seen Volcan Pacaya with me. It was really incredible, even with the rain. I was able to climb into the natural sauna (which you sort of didn’t want to after the steep hike and being soaking wet), slip and slide on the pyroclastic sand and laugh at the rest of our group who was roasting marshmallows in a hot spot. I also admired the fellow Canucks who brought some Gallo beers with them and enjoyed it on the volcano, along with their marshmallows. Which they also ended up feeding to the very intelligent dog who accompanied our tour.
This same dog was also the dog that saved our asses. We apparently spent a wee bit too long on the top of the volcano and subsequently our guide explained that we would arrive after dark fell. Which is not exactly ideal, considering the initial part of the climb was incredibly rocky and had roots sticking out everywhere. Oh, and man sized holes on the path (okay, beside the path). The dog led us down the hill, while our guide hung back with the slower walkers. About two-thirds into our descent, we were in need of flashlights, which Jan and Mike were able to provide. We managed to return to the tourist centre, dog in frount, humans trailing behind.
We were once again greeted by the same boys who offered to “take” back the poncho they sold to Emma. How crafty these little Guatemalan boys are to sell that same poncho to other unsuspecting tourists. However Emma held onto hers, but that did not deter them from trying to offer us sticks once again. Which really were no longer necessary, unless you opted to have a faux-sword fight with them. However I will say that they were incredibly cute kids, which probably meant they did decent business. In particular this new little boy had this delightful giggle. And the same little girl was back again and once again entertaining us. Mike offered her the rest of his dorito-like chips, and she was ecstatic. She really was cute. I now wish I had taken a photo of her.
Otherwise it was a quick 1.5 hour drive back to Antigua, which I spent getting to know Emma and Teres better. It also included some incredibly random radio songs by Sting, No Doubt, Mariah Carey, Whitney Housten, and some truly wonderful 80s hits. By the time we arrived back in Antigua, I was definitely hungry from the excursion. And thankfully Gladis did not forget about us! I even managed to practice more Spanish with her, in my tragically broken Spanish/English. Somehow we managed to understand each other...more or less.
But otherwise the day was fairly dull. We were supposed to have salsa classes, which just didn’t happen because of the heavy rain. Instead, happy hour. Which I found slightly awkward with my still modest amount of Spanish. It’s weird to be able to comprehend more than you can speak. It is also incredibly frustrating, because all you end up saying is “si, si, si” rather than actually contributing anything of consequence. But as my teacher says “poco a poco”. I also had a nap, which frankly was awesome.
Today however, I can report was very interesting. Mostly in a good way. I thought I had studied a lot, but realized in the morning how little I had really grasped from the previous day. So my breakfast came with a side order of cramming. All in all the class was great, minus the fact that I’m now working on “this, that, these, those” and frankly in Spanish it all sounds the same. It hurt my brain when you would use “esta” and “esta” (this one should have an accent, but I can’t do it on my mac) in the same sentence; and they mean completely different things. By the end of the class my head was nearing metaphoric explosion and I definitely was grateful for the bell ending class.
Although I made another fairly crude joke today (apparently that is all I am capable of in Guatemala). In Antigua it is rare for a tourist to walk past a shop without someone trying to hand you a flyer or inviting you inside for something or another. So today during my class a guy walked around handing out flyers for some tour to Rio Dulce. I made a joke that I should use such paper as toilet paper. Now, this is probably not appropriate for some, but apparently it was hilarious to my teacher. She proceeded to walk around and tell the other teachers and then more people were “in” on the joke. In any case I had a good chuckle about it, especially after the ese, esta, aquello business.
I also signed up today to visit Volcan Pacaya (not papaya as I later told Gladis, apparently I confuse words too...). From the guest house only Emma and I signed up. Emma is a new entrance to the Guest House and hails from Sweden. Also from Sweden was the other Sevilla student who decided to join in on the fun, Theres. The three of us were escorted to the ‘tourismo’ bus, which we thought would take us to Volcan Pacaya. Instead it drove us near the outside of town and then pulled over. The driver got out and said “un momento”. Which turned into 10 minutes. Finally I yelled “Senor, que pasa?” and he informed us that he did not in fact drive to Volcan Pacaya, instead he was waiting for a different bus with a driver who would take us. Which was another 5 minutes. I ended up being separated from mis amigas and ending up sitting way in the back. Which ended up being next to two guys from Quebec! Jan (pronounced Yan) and Mike.
Both were quite friendly, and Mike apparently has even spent time in my hometown and Fort McMurray, so he even knew my neck of the woods. Additionally they gave me some pointers for when I traveled to Costa Rica, including the name of some guy who apparently runs an adventure service (think zip lines, etc.) and will show you the ropes. Just what I need!
The scenery driving to Volcan Pacaya was beautiful. The rainy season here certainly makes the landscape lush. Once we arrived at the entrance of the Volcan Pacaya park, we were greeted with a man selling ponchos and marshmallows. Which my fellow Canadians obliged the vendor by purchasing marshmallows to roast on the lava, or in reality minor hot spots. I was even able to use my expanding Spanish skills to acquire said marshmallows.
To get to the tourist centre, you have to drive through the community that lives closest to Volcan Pacaya. This meant that for about the last 30 metres of our drive, there were 2 young boys chasing the tourismo bus asking if we wanted walking sticks. By the time we arrived at the centre the boys also offered us ponchos. For those interested, they sold ones with no hoods for 5 Quetzales ($0.63 CAN) and for one with a hood 15 Quetzales ($1.90 CAN). Emma ended up purchasing one, which happened to be a highly durable (kidding) “Maid of the Mist” poncho. I had to laugh at that one and I informed Emma of it’s significance. Along with the boys selling sticks and ponchos was an adorable young girl. She wore a little tinkerbell t-shirt, is only 6 years old and apparently likes to dance--I asked.
Our guide was a very slim man who has climbed Volcan Pacaya everyday for the past 13 years. I told him he must be very strong (fuerte), to which he replied "poco" (little). He was quite entertaining speaking in slow Spanish and broken English (albeit good English). There was ten of us in total, a couple from Israel, three possibly German friends, the French Canadians, and the Sevilla gang. However we were not left alone quite yet, about 3 or 4 men on horses followed us during the steep climb offering us “chicas” a “taxi” or a horse ride. It was both insulting and funny. Mostly because you could tell they thought they were so clever calling “chicas, taxi?” and then giggling. They stayed with us almost the entire climb up the volcano. I eventually pulled ahead and didn’t have to listen, but the Israeli woman had to endure it the entire way up.
We climbed for about 50 minutes to get close to the top of the volcano. On a clear day, you can see Guatemala City from there. Unfortunately for us it was a very cloudy day and the clouds hugged the tip of Volcan Pacaya. It made for a beautiful and totally eerie experience to watch these clouds slowly amble past. Especially in the jungle portion, because some of the trees looked truly ghoulish. Plus when we neared the volcano the steam from the lava (which was now a year old) added to the spookiness. Then it started raining.
At first it was sort of a spit. By the time we reached the pyroclastic “sand” and the natural sauna’s it was downright pouring. Having my trusty waterproof jacket proved essential, however I needed to protect my backpack and it’s paper products hidden inside. So I ended up having to leave my jacket open. Subsequently I got very wet. Later I would try to explain to Gladis, in the comfort of our Guest House, that I looked like a drowned rat. I had to make a lot of gestures to get my point across, and was saved by Clint (another housemate) who was able to give a rough translation. It was much more effective than mine, at least for her understanding. I think my attempts to act it out were much more entertaining.
I sort of wish everyone I know could have seen Volcan Pacaya with me. It was really incredible, even with the rain. I was able to climb into the natural sauna (which you sort of didn’t want to after the steep hike and being soaking wet), slip and slide on the pyroclastic sand and laugh at the rest of our group who was roasting marshmallows in a hot spot. I also admired the fellow Canucks who brought some Gallo beers with them and enjoyed it on the volcano, along with their marshmallows. Which they also ended up feeding to the very intelligent dog who accompanied our tour.
This same dog was also the dog that saved our asses. We apparently spent a wee bit too long on the top of the volcano and subsequently our guide explained that we would arrive after dark fell. Which is not exactly ideal, considering the initial part of the climb was incredibly rocky and had roots sticking out everywhere. Oh, and man sized holes on the path (okay, beside the path). The dog led us down the hill, while our guide hung back with the slower walkers. About two-thirds into our descent, we were in need of flashlights, which Jan and Mike were able to provide. We managed to return to the tourist centre, dog in frount, humans trailing behind.
We were once again greeted by the same boys who offered to “take” back the poncho they sold to Emma. How crafty these little Guatemalan boys are to sell that same poncho to other unsuspecting tourists. However Emma held onto hers, but that did not deter them from trying to offer us sticks once again. Which really were no longer necessary, unless you opted to have a faux-sword fight with them. However I will say that they were incredibly cute kids, which probably meant they did decent business. In particular this new little boy had this delightful giggle. And the same little girl was back again and once again entertaining us. Mike offered her the rest of his dorito-like chips, and she was ecstatic. She really was cute. I now wish I had taken a photo of her.
Otherwise it was a quick 1.5 hour drive back to Antigua, which I spent getting to know Emma and Teres better. It also included some incredibly random radio songs by Sting, No Doubt, Mariah Carey, Whitney Housten, and some truly wonderful 80s hits. By the time we arrived back in Antigua, I was definitely hungry from the excursion. And thankfully Gladis did not forget about us! I even managed to practice more Spanish with her, in my tragically broken Spanish/English. Somehow we managed to understand each other...more or less.
Tuesday, 27 September 2011
Monday, Monday
Every morning I wake up with the best of intentions to grasp Spanish, yet by the end of my lesson my brain is complete mush. However, I am making some progress, at least when it comes to grammar. The hardest part about all of this is trying to practice and use it frequently, because by the next morning you are expected to know it. I seem to be picking it up and the guest house has a good mix of those with more Spanish and those who have little. Obviously none of us is fluent, except Gladis, however we try.
Monday afternoon was spent studying Spanish from the mornings class after Gladis’ amazing lunch. Then a group of us from the School went up to see Cerra de la Cruz, which is essentially this big cross on the hill overlooking Antigua. To get their we walked from our school and had to “hike” up this hill to get to the look out point. The scenery walking up is all forest, lush and green. So I certainly didn’t mind the 10 minute walk.
Once we arrived there was a mix of locals and foreigners, with our entry the foreigners outweighed the locals. We were given about 30 minutes or so to take photos and be silly. We took the atypical jumping poses with Milton’s expert photographic abilities as well as some other goofy photos. My personal favourite was when Milton lined us up on some of the stairs on the main path to Cerra de la Cruz. It was here that we performed several jump photos, however they were often disrupted by locals coming through. We must of looked really ridiculous, but frankly I found it too funny to really care.
We had an early dinner too to make sure we would make it to Reilly’s pub for Pub Quiz night. It ended up being all but one of the students staying at the Guest House. We arrived early, but it was still fairly packed. The questions were in English and covered science, history, geography, weird laws and music. Frankly, my main contribution was to name Van Morrison as the artist of a song, and know that there is a law in York where you can shoot a Scotsman from the city wall with a bow and arrow. Suffice it to say, it was a late night. Tomorrow is going to be interesting.
Monday afternoon was spent studying Spanish from the mornings class after Gladis’ amazing lunch. Then a group of us from the School went up to see Cerra de la Cruz, which is essentially this big cross on the hill overlooking Antigua. To get their we walked from our school and had to “hike” up this hill to get to the look out point. The scenery walking up is all forest, lush and green. So I certainly didn’t mind the 10 minute walk.
Once we arrived there was a mix of locals and foreigners, with our entry the foreigners outweighed the locals. We were given about 30 minutes or so to take photos and be silly. We took the atypical jumping poses with Milton’s expert photographic abilities as well as some other goofy photos. My personal favourite was when Milton lined us up on some of the stairs on the main path to Cerra de la Cruz. It was here that we performed several jump photos, however they were often disrupted by locals coming through. We must of looked really ridiculous, but frankly I found it too funny to really care.
We had an early dinner too to make sure we would make it to Reilly’s pub for Pub Quiz night. It ended up being all but one of the students staying at the Guest House. We arrived early, but it was still fairly packed. The questions were in English and covered science, history, geography, weird laws and music. Frankly, my main contribution was to name Van Morrison as the artist of a song, and know that there is a law in York where you can shoot a Scotsman from the city wall with a bow and arrow. Suffice it to say, it was a late night. Tomorrow is going to be interesting.
Finca Filadelfia--Coffee in Antigua
I slept in again today (Sunday). Either I’m recovering from severe lack of sleep or I really need an alarm clock. My remedy to that was to try to find a cell phone here. I was also in need of food too because we are not fed on Sundays. I did have a remaining pineapple and watermelon, but figured I should try my luck at the supermarket. Which as it turns out was a total bust. However I had to be careful about time because I was heading to Finca Filadelfia, a coffee plantation, later that afternoon.
So I made it to the supermarket and realized that the produce section consisted of very little produce. Even though I could have stopped at the market and check out the produce situation there, I opted instead to head to go buy a cell phone at a shop I had passed along the way. Somehow in broken Spanish I was able to procure a cell phone! Success! And it only cost $30. Not too shabby.
On my way back I realized that I didn’t know how to set up my phone, nor should I do so on a random Antigua street. So I asked a passerby the time, and I heard 2:20pm. Now in order to get to the coffee farm we were supposed to be picked up at 1:30pm. So I thought I had TOTALLY messed everything up, as I was traveling with some fellow Spanish students, and I had the map with the meet up point. So I half walked, half ran back to the guest house, along the way I asked another person who said the same thing. I was starting to panic. So I busted in, and started apologizing only to find out that I was not in fact late. It was 12:30pm. “Dos” and “doce” sound incredibly alike to the untrained, i.e. my, ear.
So other than the fact that it started raining, we were still able to check out the finca. The three of us departed for the meet up point, the run down San Jose Church. Finally our truck pulled up and we were on our way out of Antigua toward the finca. We passed another village that was seemed to be equivalent to a suburb of Antigua. With a market going on and a beautiful yellow Church. All in all the drive from our pick up point to the finca was approximately 15 minutes.
The plantation grounds were beautiful. Apparently coffee is really good business in Guatemala. They have a few fountains on the way in, superb gardens, and absolutely amazing views. They are right in the hills and the clouds still hung in the air just at the very tops. Our finca guide was Alex, a 23 year old who studies engineering in Guatemala City and works part time at the finca. I’m sure you are all dying to hear about how coffee is grown in Guatemala...kidding. But I will say that it was very interesting.
Some highlights include:
Personally my favourite part was talking to the other woman on the tour (there were only 5 of us total). She and her boyfriend were acting like “tourists” in their own native country, and they wanted to learn more about this product they export. Apparently, at least at this place, 85% of the coffee grown is exported. Only 15% remains in Guatemala. And considering how amazing the coffee is, it is surprising how many people drink instant coffee here. Likely because they cannot afford the high quality coffee beans. Which, as this woman said, is quite sad. Apparently one of the only stores that sells Finca Filadelfia’s beans is Walmart. And, as Walmart has impacted the local Ma and Pop shops in Canada, it has done the same here. All in all it sort of puts the coffee in your cup in perspective.
So I made it to the supermarket and realized that the produce section consisted of very little produce. Even though I could have stopped at the market and check out the produce situation there, I opted instead to head to go buy a cell phone at a shop I had passed along the way. Somehow in broken Spanish I was able to procure a cell phone! Success! And it only cost $30. Not too shabby.
On my way back I realized that I didn’t know how to set up my phone, nor should I do so on a random Antigua street. So I asked a passerby the time, and I heard 2:20pm. Now in order to get to the coffee farm we were supposed to be picked up at 1:30pm. So I thought I had TOTALLY messed everything up, as I was traveling with some fellow Spanish students, and I had the map with the meet up point. So I half walked, half ran back to the guest house, along the way I asked another person who said the same thing. I was starting to panic. So I busted in, and started apologizing only to find out that I was not in fact late. It was 12:30pm. “Dos” and “doce” sound incredibly alike to the untrained, i.e. my, ear.
So other than the fact that it started raining, we were still able to check out the finca. The three of us departed for the meet up point, the run down San Jose Church. Finally our truck pulled up and we were on our way out of Antigua toward the finca. We passed another village that was seemed to be equivalent to a suburb of Antigua. With a market going on and a beautiful yellow Church. All in all the drive from our pick up point to the finca was approximately 15 minutes.
The plantation grounds were beautiful. Apparently coffee is really good business in Guatemala. They have a few fountains on the way in, superb gardens, and absolutely amazing views. They are right in the hills and the clouds still hung in the air just at the very tops. Our finca guide was Alex, a 23 year old who studies engineering in Guatemala City and works part time at the finca. I’m sure you are all dying to hear about how coffee is grown in Guatemala...kidding. But I will say that it was very interesting.
Some highlights include:
- Only women can perform the hybridization of the coffee plants because our hands have a slightly acidic pH and subsequently our hands do not burn the plants (men’s hands are slightly alkaline and therefore do, somehow, burn the plants)
- The red outer most layer, once taken off of the bean, reveals an inner layer which can be turned into jelly. It was quite tasty actually.
- Calculus is used in the roasting process of a “high quality” company. This means that they roast the beans at 180 degrees Celsius and slowly lower it until the inner bean is cooked. Then you start to turn back up the heat to you hit 180 degrees again. This parabola from Calculus is what apparently creates an amazing roast every time.
- They ship the beans un-roasted for export
- The medium sized beans are the highest grade coffee (provided they are arabica beans)
Personally my favourite part was talking to the other woman on the tour (there were only 5 of us total). She and her boyfriend were acting like “tourists” in their own native country, and they wanted to learn more about this product they export. Apparently, at least at this place, 85% of the coffee grown is exported. Only 15% remains in Guatemala. And considering how amazing the coffee is, it is surprising how many people drink instant coffee here. Likely because they cannot afford the high quality coffee beans. Which, as this woman said, is quite sad. Apparently one of the only stores that sells Finca Filadelfia’s beans is Walmart. And, as Walmart has impacted the local Ma and Pop shops in Canada, it has done the same here. All in all it sort of puts the coffee in your cup in perspective.
Saturday, 24 September 2011
First real day in Antigua
Today I was exhausted upon waking. Even though I went to bed relatively early, I just couldn’t seem to get out of bed and function. Breakfast this morning was a delicious fruit salad (papaya, watermelon, and banana). Afterwards I ended up heading out to see some of the ruins in Guatemala with one of the other students in the Guest House, Erik.
Together we ended up heading to see the ruins of San Francisco church with the remains of Santos Hermano Pedro (Saint Brother Pedro), a Franciscan monk from the 16th Century. The ruins were breathtaking. I will try to post some of the photos in a few days so you can see for yourself. Sadly because we all (the students) had a slow morning, we didn’t have a lot of time to wander off and do more before we were expected back for lunch.
After lunch we headed out to book a tour to see a coffee plantation for Sunday afternoon for Erik, Rodderick, and I. Even though I don’t drink coffee I think it’ll be a neat experience to get out of Antigua and head into the hills. Then Erik and I went to see more ruins this time on the outskirts of town. The ruins are called Iglesia y Convento de la Recoleccion, and they were slightly less cool than the San Francisco ruins. Mostly it was because there was no information. Just a semi-destroyed structure. But at the end of the day I’m not complaining. Both were worth the 25 Quetzals I paid to see them (that is about $3 CAN).
I also finally saw the famous Antigua arch as well as the vendors who patrol it. They sell everything from pan pipes and flutes to scarves and necklaces. After paying for our tour, Erik and I sat in the Parque Central for a couple minutes. It was a fascinating display of tourists and locals. The difficult part of sitting there is you are a sitting duck for people trying to sell you their goods, as well as you get to stare at the insanely trim horses pulling the carriages. You could see their hip bones very clearly in their flanks. Definitely a sad sight.
In many respects I wish I had taken a photo of this cute little Guatemalan boy who was selling scarves, and asked me when I said no if I’d get him chicken. At the time it wasn’t funny, but somehow now when he asked me for chicken in English, it was quite hilarious.
Also there was a big wedding going on this evening at the Antigua Cathedral next to the Parque Central. As I write this I can hear fireworks go off in celebration. When passing by, I stopped to watch the two bridesmaids try to enter a limo with their big pouffy dresses. That too was a sight to see.
Oh, and I rode in a Guatemalan tuk tuk today! Trust me, the cobblestones here make it WAY more entertaining than in Thailand. For those who may be familiar with the loco ways of a tuk tuk driver.
Together we ended up heading to see the ruins of San Francisco church with the remains of Santos Hermano Pedro (Saint Brother Pedro), a Franciscan monk from the 16th Century. The ruins were breathtaking. I will try to post some of the photos in a few days so you can see for yourself. Sadly because we all (the students) had a slow morning, we didn’t have a lot of time to wander off and do more before we were expected back for lunch.
After lunch we headed out to book a tour to see a coffee plantation for Sunday afternoon for Erik, Rodderick, and I. Even though I don’t drink coffee I think it’ll be a neat experience to get out of Antigua and head into the hills. Then Erik and I went to see more ruins this time on the outskirts of town. The ruins are called Iglesia y Convento de la Recoleccion, and they were slightly less cool than the San Francisco ruins. Mostly it was because there was no information. Just a semi-destroyed structure. But at the end of the day I’m not complaining. Both were worth the 25 Quetzals I paid to see them (that is about $3 CAN).
I also finally saw the famous Antigua arch as well as the vendors who patrol it. They sell everything from pan pipes and flutes to scarves and necklaces. After paying for our tour, Erik and I sat in the Parque Central for a couple minutes. It was a fascinating display of tourists and locals. The difficult part of sitting there is you are a sitting duck for people trying to sell you their goods, as well as you get to stare at the insanely trim horses pulling the carriages. You could see their hip bones very clearly in their flanks. Definitely a sad sight.
In many respects I wish I had taken a photo of this cute little Guatemalan boy who was selling scarves, and asked me when I said no if I’d get him chicken. At the time it wasn’t funny, but somehow now when he asked me for chicken in English, it was quite hilarious.
Also there was a big wedding going on this evening at the Antigua Cathedral next to the Parque Central. As I write this I can hear fireworks go off in celebration. When passing by, I stopped to watch the two bridesmaids try to enter a limo with their big pouffy dresses. That too was a sight to see.
Oh, and I rode in a Guatemalan tuk tuk today! Trust me, the cobblestones here make it WAY more entertaining than in Thailand. For those who may be familiar with the loco ways of a tuk tuk driver.
ANTIGUA OR BUST!
This is it!! I have finally made it to Antigua, Guatemala! It only took several months, hours of planning, a four hour (1:30am) flight from Los Angeles and here I am!
The first glimpses of Guatemala were absolutely breathtaking! The volcanoes and the valleys are so incredible. As are the cities and villages carved into the hillsides. Flying in was just so impressive that I wish I had someone telling me what exactly I was seeing. I could recognize Lago Atitlan, which looks just as beautiful as I was assured it would be.
The Guatemala City airport seemed freakishly new. And clean. It was both impressive and odd. The airport also seemed incredibly devoid of humans. Yes there was employees, but very minimal. I spent a few moments trying to complete my customs form, which thankfully was both Spanish and English. So I was well on my way to not being a total gong show. However, I couldn’t understand some of the questions on the sheet. Or rather what it would mean to them. I ended up leaving a few blank and hoped that if any of them were essential the custom’s man would fill it in.
I am still struggling with the whole answer in Spanish thing. People would ask questions, and I was marginally able to keep up. At least until I had to blurt out some Spanish. Although I at least take it in stride that my lame attempts at learning Spanish at least left me able to understand SOME Spanish. So huzzah on that. One particularly amusing moment was when the last Custom’s officer asked me where I was from but made a presupposition that I was from the US. Somehow (I really don’t know how) we started talking about boxing. I said that I was a kickboxer, which I hope he understood. He seemed quite proficient at English, so I hope he understood.
I was told by the Spanish school (Academia de Espanol Sevilla) that I would be picked up by a driver with my name and the school name. Sadly he was running late. The only reason I found this out was because several shuttle drivers inquired where I was off too. I informed them that I was headed to a school (escuela in Spanish) and they managed to help me out. They talked amongst themselves and then the main guy, whose name I’ve forgotten, asked me if I had their phone number. Luckily I wrote it down. He called them and I got the answers I needed. About 5 minutes later my shuttle arrived, driver toting a sheet with my name. A short conversation in Spanish ensued. To be honest I was so flustered because I just wanted to get out of there. Mostly because the arrivals part of the airport was outside, with me standing on one side of a metal barrier and 60 Guatemalans on the other. I definitely felt out of place and I suppose I should get used to that feeling.
The driver took me straight to the Student House and I met the lady who cooks and cleans it. Her name is Gladis. A sweet, kind woman of only 17 year old. Gladis and I managed to converse about where I was from, how old I was, what I studied, my family members names, and more. With my limited Spanish I was even able to get answers! Huzzah! I couldn't believe that I was able to have a semi-functional conversation in Spanish. I probably sounded like a complete idiot, but it was absolutely thrilling to be able to do it!
I opted to start school that afternoon. I had a few hours to kill though so I decided to clean myself off and head out investigating Antigua. I managed to find the post office, several banks and the Parque Central across from the Cathedral. I definitely got slightly lost along the way, Antigua seriously has no street signs. Or rather they are sort of randomly posted at one portion of the road and you only happen across those every so often. So you need to count blocks instead. Which when you are wandering and trying to absorb everything, sort of makes you forget about counting.
My first lesson was fantastic! And my teacher, Lorena, is hilarious and seems to know a moderate amount of English. This makes my life so much simpler. We covered 4 different verbs and I definitely had issues pronouncing "nosotros nos llamamos". One important lesson learned was that depending on pronunciation Mama can either mean Mother or breast. Frankly I wouldn't put it past me to ask someone accidentally what they call their breast. It just isn't great though for first impressions.
She did mention that I seemed to follow a conversation quite well and that I seemed to understand a lot of the words she was trying to teach me already. I hope this means that at the end of my travels I will be more capable of conversing in Spanish than I am currently.
The first glimpses of Guatemala were absolutely breathtaking! The volcanoes and the valleys are so incredible. As are the cities and villages carved into the hillsides. Flying in was just so impressive that I wish I had someone telling me what exactly I was seeing. I could recognize Lago Atitlan, which looks just as beautiful as I was assured it would be.
The Guatemala City airport seemed freakishly new. And clean. It was both impressive and odd. The airport also seemed incredibly devoid of humans. Yes there was employees, but very minimal. I spent a few moments trying to complete my customs form, which thankfully was both Spanish and English. So I was well on my way to not being a total gong show. However, I couldn’t understand some of the questions on the sheet. Or rather what it would mean to them. I ended up leaving a few blank and hoped that if any of them were essential the custom’s man would fill it in.
I am still struggling with the whole answer in Spanish thing. People would ask questions, and I was marginally able to keep up. At least until I had to blurt out some Spanish. Although I at least take it in stride that my lame attempts at learning Spanish at least left me able to understand SOME Spanish. So huzzah on that. One particularly amusing moment was when the last Custom’s officer asked me where I was from but made a presupposition that I was from the US. Somehow (I really don’t know how) we started talking about boxing. I said that I was a kickboxer, which I hope he understood. He seemed quite proficient at English, so I hope he understood.
I was told by the Spanish school (Academia de Espanol Sevilla) that I would be picked up by a driver with my name and the school name. Sadly he was running late. The only reason I found this out was because several shuttle drivers inquired where I was off too. I informed them that I was headed to a school (escuela in Spanish) and they managed to help me out. They talked amongst themselves and then the main guy, whose name I’ve forgotten, asked me if I had their phone number. Luckily I wrote it down. He called them and I got the answers I needed. About 5 minutes later my shuttle arrived, driver toting a sheet with my name. A short conversation in Spanish ensued. To be honest I was so flustered because I just wanted to get out of there. Mostly because the arrivals part of the airport was outside, with me standing on one side of a metal barrier and 60 Guatemalans on the other. I definitely felt out of place and I suppose I should get used to that feeling.
The driver took me straight to the Student House and I met the lady who cooks and cleans it. Her name is Gladis. A sweet, kind woman of only 17 year old. Gladis and I managed to converse about where I was from, how old I was, what I studied, my family members names, and more. With my limited Spanish I was even able to get answers! Huzzah! I couldn't believe that I was able to have a semi-functional conversation in Spanish. I probably sounded like a complete idiot, but it was absolutely thrilling to be able to do it!
I opted to start school that afternoon. I had a few hours to kill though so I decided to clean myself off and head out investigating Antigua. I managed to find the post office, several banks and the Parque Central across from the Cathedral. I definitely got slightly lost along the way, Antigua seriously has no street signs. Or rather they are sort of randomly posted at one portion of the road and you only happen across those every so often. So you need to count blocks instead. Which when you are wandering and trying to absorb everything, sort of makes you forget about counting.
My first lesson was fantastic! And my teacher, Lorena, is hilarious and seems to know a moderate amount of English. This makes my life so much simpler. We covered 4 different verbs and I definitely had issues pronouncing "nosotros nos llamamos". One important lesson learned was that depending on pronunciation Mama can either mean Mother or breast. Frankly I wouldn't put it past me to ask someone accidentally what they call their breast. It just isn't great though for first impressions.
She did mention that I seemed to follow a conversation quite well and that I seemed to understand a lot of the words she was trying to teach me already. I hope this means that at the end of my travels I will be more capable of conversing in Spanish than I am currently.
Back to the Homeless in San Francisco!
Well it is official. The day is here. The bag is packed. In fact I’m writing this from my first destination. San Francisco.
I may have just been here a few weeks ago, but I am really grateful that San Francisco is my first stop. Mostly because I feel like it’s a good way to test the waters. In particular I’m fairly certain I’ll need to reassess all I’ve brought. I thought that I was bringing barely anything. But that “barely” anything has filled my 40L bag to capacity. So much for packing light...
But the purpose of this blog entry is not to discuss my arrival in San Francisco, rather to discuss the wonderful friends and family who over the past couple weeks have been sharing with me their concerns, well wishes, luck, and prayers.
For me these moments were bittersweet. I found an incredible amount of joy spending time with the people I love and knowing that they are excited to see me start my adventure. But it has also been difficult to see the sadness on their faces when I leave. For me, I'm about to start a grand adventure, to you all you are losing a friend or daughter, niece, etc. All I can do is say that I am only an email away and hope that in time you will be as excited about all this as I am.
Nevertheless, I now find myself in a San Francisco hostel feeling incredibly loved, incredibly blessed, and incredibly excited. I may not know what the next few months hold in store for me, but I know that all of your blessings and well wishes have meant the world for me.
Stay tuned, things are about to get interesting...
I may have just been here a few weeks ago, but I am really grateful that San Francisco is my first stop. Mostly because I feel like it’s a good way to test the waters. In particular I’m fairly certain I’ll need to reassess all I’ve brought. I thought that I was bringing barely anything. But that “barely” anything has filled my 40L bag to capacity. So much for packing light...
But the purpose of this blog entry is not to discuss my arrival in San Francisco, rather to discuss the wonderful friends and family who over the past couple weeks have been sharing with me their concerns, well wishes, luck, and prayers.
For me these moments were bittersweet. I found an incredible amount of joy spending time with the people I love and knowing that they are excited to see me start my adventure. But it has also been difficult to see the sadness on their faces when I leave. For me, I'm about to start a grand adventure, to you all you are losing a friend or daughter, niece, etc. All I can do is say that I am only an email away and hope that in time you will be as excited about all this as I am.
Nevertheless, I now find myself in a San Francisco hostel feeling incredibly loved, incredibly blessed, and incredibly excited. I may not know what the next few months hold in store for me, but I know that all of your blessings and well wishes have meant the world for me.
Stay tuned, things are about to get interesting...
Sunday, 18 September 2011
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Why I love old things
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| This man is my idol! Spent his Saturday's cheering on the runners! You go Old Man! |
Monday, 12 September 2011
A Trip Before the Trip
I meant to write this upon my return from San Francisco, but as you can imagine with a September 20th departure, my time was running out fast with lots of things left to do. So here is what I consider the highlight of my San Francisco Father-Daughter Bonding extraveganza!
Moment Number 1:
Our Custom’s officer as we departed my hometown explaining his hatred of the photos in the US Custom’s area. He said he understood why Napoleon took off the nose of the Sphinx after staring at it for six months. He stated that he refused to go to South Dakota just because it held Mount Rushmore, one of the photos he was forced to stare at the most. He said that if he ever had a chance, he would take of ol’ Abe Lincoln’s nose. Not exactly what you expect to hear Day 1 from a “patriotic” citizen of the United States of America.
Moment Number 2:
My first trip to the SOMA Whole Foods, a whole 5 blocks from our hotel. Only those foodies, veggies, and similar can fully appreciate the sheer amazement I had walking through that store. The quantity and quality of vegan friendly product and relatively inexpensive organic produce pretty much made me curse that I do not have a whole foods where I live. And I wish that I could have shared that moment with my friend Amanda.
Similarly, walking into Rainbow Grocery was sheer eco-geek nirvana and a vegan revelation.
Moment Number 3:
Not so much a moment, as a find. Dad and I went to the Jazz Bistro three out of six nights and was located one block from our hotel. The Jazz Bistro, as you can imagine, featured nightly jazz as well as decent food. The best night we went, happened to be the first night as well. Where the performers included a four-man band including a bassist, a drummer, a Japanese pianist, and the absolutely adorable trumpet player. He had a black fedora, blues brothers shades, a salt n’ pepper beard, and the sort of footwear that only those 65+ years old can pull off. But to me, he was the bee’s knee’s. They played songs such as Only Fools Rush In, I Can’t Stop Lovin’ You, Ring of Fire, and Whiter Shades of Pale--all with a jazz beat. It was fantastic.
Moment Number 4:
My Dad getting asked in Haight Street whether he wanted to buy or sell marijuana. He didn’t. But that didn’t stop me from finding this absolutely stereotypical for the neighborhood and also completely moronic on the potential “dealer”. My Dad looked more like he left a golf course and the pair of us was the least likely to say yes!
Moment Number 5:
Running into my kickboxing friend, Safi on the streets of San Francisco with his fiance. Something about meeting someone you know in a “foreign” city just makes me incredibly happy.
Moment Number 6:
Guacamole and tacos accompanied by homemade ginger ale at Gracias Madre. This restaurant made Mexican classics vegan. Needless to say I was in heaven eating here. And the caesar’s salad was incredible too...if you ever get the chance to eat there.
Moment Number 7:
Finding Painted Bird, a vintage store with pizazz. Even though San Francisco is known to vintage seekers as a vintage mecca of sorts, I was incredibly disappointed by the stores I went to on Haight Street. Most of them had an incredible amount of vintage, but somehow nothing seemed special, nothing seemed to stand out amid the sheer amount of vintage. But when I found Painted Bird and it’s boutique vintage feel, as well as vintage combat boots in my size, I fell in love with San Fran’s vintage then and there.
Moment Number 8:
The adorable Asian man who spent his Saturday mornings cheering on those crazy individuals training for the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon. Every time a runner went past, you could hear him shout “YAY!”. So when I walked by, I cheered him on. He replied in kind.
Moment Number 9:
Dad and I took three different tours on the trip and each in their own way was utterly fantastic. I enjoyed smelling the foggy, crisp air in Muir Woods. I loved the sea lions lounging in the sun in Monterey. I fondly remember our mad dash in Carmel to see the beach and make it back to our bus in time. And I loved our bicycle ride through Yosemite National Park, in particular running into the same cyclists over and over. In particular the man wearing a Farm Aid shirt who told me I “had to go” if I could.
Moment Number 10:
Having a traveler “a-ha” moment, when I realized that I really do feel like I can undertake my trip to Central America. Walking alone through Mission Street, through the large population of homeless in San Francisco, and everything else made me realize that I really am ready to take this trip. Although I know it won’t be easy and it’ll be filled with moments of terrible lows, it will also include euphoric highs. All I can hope is that the highs outweigh the lows.
Moment Number 1:
Our Custom’s officer as we departed my hometown explaining his hatred of the photos in the US Custom’s area. He said he understood why Napoleon took off the nose of the Sphinx after staring at it for six months. He stated that he refused to go to South Dakota just because it held Mount Rushmore, one of the photos he was forced to stare at the most. He said that if he ever had a chance, he would take of ol’ Abe Lincoln’s nose. Not exactly what you expect to hear Day 1 from a “patriotic” citizen of the United States of America.
Moment Number 2:
My first trip to the SOMA Whole Foods, a whole 5 blocks from our hotel. Only those foodies, veggies, and similar can fully appreciate the sheer amazement I had walking through that store. The quantity and quality of vegan friendly product and relatively inexpensive organic produce pretty much made me curse that I do not have a whole foods where I live. And I wish that I could have shared that moment with my friend Amanda.
Similarly, walking into Rainbow Grocery was sheer eco-geek nirvana and a vegan revelation.
Moment Number 3:
Not so much a moment, as a find. Dad and I went to the Jazz Bistro three out of six nights and was located one block from our hotel. The Jazz Bistro, as you can imagine, featured nightly jazz as well as decent food. The best night we went, happened to be the first night as well. Where the performers included a four-man band including a bassist, a drummer, a Japanese pianist, and the absolutely adorable trumpet player. He had a black fedora, blues brothers shades, a salt n’ pepper beard, and the sort of footwear that only those 65+ years old can pull off. But to me, he was the bee’s knee’s. They played songs such as Only Fools Rush In, I Can’t Stop Lovin’ You, Ring of Fire, and Whiter Shades of Pale--all with a jazz beat. It was fantastic.
Moment Number 4:
My Dad getting asked in Haight Street whether he wanted to buy or sell marijuana. He didn’t. But that didn’t stop me from finding this absolutely stereotypical for the neighborhood and also completely moronic on the potential “dealer”. My Dad looked more like he left a golf course and the pair of us was the least likely to say yes!
Moment Number 5:
Running into my kickboxing friend, Safi on the streets of San Francisco with his fiance. Something about meeting someone you know in a “foreign” city just makes me incredibly happy.
Moment Number 6:
Guacamole and tacos accompanied by homemade ginger ale at Gracias Madre. This restaurant made Mexican classics vegan. Needless to say I was in heaven eating here. And the caesar’s salad was incredible too...if you ever get the chance to eat there.
Moment Number 7:
Finding Painted Bird, a vintage store with pizazz. Even though San Francisco is known to vintage seekers as a vintage mecca of sorts, I was incredibly disappointed by the stores I went to on Haight Street. Most of them had an incredible amount of vintage, but somehow nothing seemed special, nothing seemed to stand out amid the sheer amount of vintage. But when I found Painted Bird and it’s boutique vintage feel, as well as vintage combat boots in my size, I fell in love with San Fran’s vintage then and there.
Moment Number 8:
The adorable Asian man who spent his Saturday mornings cheering on those crazy individuals training for the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon. Every time a runner went past, you could hear him shout “YAY!”. So when I walked by, I cheered him on. He replied in kind.
Moment Number 9:
Dad and I took three different tours on the trip and each in their own way was utterly fantastic. I enjoyed smelling the foggy, crisp air in Muir Woods. I loved the sea lions lounging in the sun in Monterey. I fondly remember our mad dash in Carmel to see the beach and make it back to our bus in time. And I loved our bicycle ride through Yosemite National Park, in particular running into the same cyclists over and over. In particular the man wearing a Farm Aid shirt who told me I “had to go” if I could.
Moment Number 10:
Having a traveler “a-ha” moment, when I realized that I really do feel like I can undertake my trip to Central America. Walking alone through Mission Street, through the large population of homeless in San Francisco, and everything else made me realize that I really am ready to take this trip. Although I know it won’t be easy and it’ll be filled with moments of terrible lows, it will also include euphoric highs. All I can hope is that the highs outweigh the lows.
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