Antigua, DAY 5
It´s Day 5 and my stomach is finally starting to untie... if only I would stop eating mango, pineapple and tostado, I could avoid the Tums altogether.
I arrived in Guate City safe and sound on Saturday night. The Beenes´ picked me up, and, but for the armed men at the door of the airport, I wouldn´t have even known I was in a different country. We chatted late into Saturday night, then went to a HUGE church in Guatemala City on Sunday morning, where I listened to a translator with very nerdy earphones.
Sunday afternoon, we all drove the Beene Suburban a quick 45 minutes to the touristy colonial city of Antigua, where all of the buildings are yellow and pink, and the streets, though crowded with volkswagens and three wheeled ¨Tut tuts¨, are set with cobblestone. After lunch, I met up with Melanie, another missionary who works with the Beenes. Melanie arranged for me to stay with her in the sprawling colonial-style home of ´Carmen,¨a kind-hearted, if slightly frazzled South Carolinian expat.
So my first two nights were spent in an old room adorned with American navy medallions, old flags, and books on political theory. I enrolled at a Spanish school down the street, and ate three meals a day courtesy of Carmen, who frantically brought out salt and pepper shakers, napkins, and forgotten courses as we ate.
Of course, being the ultra-savvy traveller that I am, I decided to push my comfort zone a little more... Carmen´s place was comfortable, but with four American women living in one house, the atmosphere took on that of a discontent boarding house, and there was little hope of improving my Spanish when I had access to CNN, Fox, and a group of Americans to fall back on.
Enter Greg and Bucky, the ex-Peace Corps Volunteers (thank you for the reference, Elizabeth Mays!) who started a non-profit program in Guatemala, and invited me to a hygene presentation up the hill from Antigua, in a little town named Santa Tomas. After the presentation (of which I gathered ¨don´t poop in the river¨and ¨don´t drink from the sink¨) , they introduced me to Yolie, a native Guatemalan who gives talks to tiny Pueblitas throughout the area, and suggested I live with her and her family in order to get a real taste of Guatemala... sans running water, English, and a comfortable bed.
And so... to Yolie I must hurry! Dinner will be on the table soon, and my 15 minute busride is absolute chaos!
more later...love and prayers for all
I arrived in Guate City safe and sound on Saturday night. The Beenes´ picked me up, and, but for the armed men at the door of the airport, I wouldn´t have even known I was in a different country. We chatted late into Saturday night, then went to a HUGE church in Guatemala City on Sunday morning, where I listened to a translator with very nerdy earphones.
Sunday afternoon, we all drove the Beene Suburban a quick 45 minutes to the touristy colonial city of Antigua, where all of the buildings are yellow and pink, and the streets, though crowded with volkswagens and three wheeled ¨Tut tuts¨, are set with cobblestone. After lunch, I met up with Melanie, another missionary who works with the Beenes. Melanie arranged for me to stay with her in the sprawling colonial-style home of ´Carmen,¨a kind-hearted, if slightly frazzled South Carolinian expat.
So my first two nights were spent in an old room adorned with American navy medallions, old flags, and books on political theory. I enrolled at a Spanish school down the street, and ate three meals a day courtesy of Carmen, who frantically brought out salt and pepper shakers, napkins, and forgotten courses as we ate.
Of course, being the ultra-savvy traveller that I am, I decided to push my comfort zone a little more... Carmen´s place was comfortable, but with four American women living in one house, the atmosphere took on that of a discontent boarding house, and there was little hope of improving my Spanish when I had access to CNN, Fox, and a group of Americans to fall back on.
Enter Greg and Bucky, the ex-Peace Corps Volunteers (thank you for the reference, Elizabeth Mays!) who started a non-profit program in Guatemala, and invited me to a hygene presentation up the hill from Antigua, in a little town named Santa Tomas. After the presentation (of which I gathered ¨don´t poop in the river¨and ¨don´t drink from the sink¨) , they introduced me to Yolie, a native Guatemalan who gives talks to tiny Pueblitas throughout the area, and suggested I live with her and her family in order to get a real taste of Guatemala... sans running water, English, and a comfortable bed.
And so... to Yolie I must hurry! Dinner will be on the table soon, and my 15 minute busride is absolute chaos!
more later...love and prayers for all
posted by Sarah Ruzic at 2:06 PM
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