Via Byway, My Way.

My replacement memory card reader still has not come, looks more doubtful as each day passes, but one of my amigas, Yuhen from Chicago, let me borrow her reader so I can finally upload some pics! Thanks for all your comments regarding the trip to Momostenango, and Mel your comment under “New Home, New Food” made my stomach rumble and caused it to begin a labor strike / protest against the real food I’ve been eating down here. Because once again my pobre (poor) stomach has been inflicted with the Curse. For the past few days I have attempted to convince myself and all of you readers that I can handle black beans, eggs and tortillas, but not just all at once. Well, it looks like I will now only be able to eat one at a time and not with the others, because this morning for the 4th morning in a row it was eggs, black beans and bread/tortillas.

My body finally said “Enough.” So in the later morning during my class, I had a horrible stomach ache, which I still have as a write this. I am just glad that I am here, close to modern restrooms (still can’t put anything in the toilets, though), instead of hiking up a mountain or volcano. I am hopeful that my body can recuperate in time for Saturday’s 3-day trek. When I sit down tomorrow morning for breakfast with those black beans and eggs and tortillas looking at me, I will just have to pass. Because my stomach can’t take anymore punishment and my body needs its water.

But at least my lunch kicked ass! Soup, grilled tortillas with melted cheese, cucumber and red pepper salad, watermelon and a sweet mandarin drink. Here are the pics of my new home and some of the food I’ve eaten the past few days!

My room actually has a closet with shelves! And no bed bugs!!! It is spartan and small, but with a bed, desk, chair and a place to put things on a shelf, I love it!

My bed, with actually SHEETS that are soft and comfortable. I don’t need to sleep in my sleeping bag and can actually enjoy sleeping in a warm environment.

I have an outlet to charge my camera battery, and even a calendar hanging on the wall. Such luxury! (compared to my previous homestay)

This picture was taken looking from the dining area into the central courtyard. The closed door ahead is to my bedroom, the open door is for another bedroom that my father’s sister is currently using this week with her two daughters, and on the right next to my room is another door for my small bathroom. The house is quite spacious, and my family could host more students but Olga, the school director, is quite strict about having more than one student per household (but having more than one student is quite the norm despite her rule).

The dining room. The glass of juice is freshly squeezed mango mixed with water, sooo goooood.

Chicken broth rice soup, a little out of focus because I was trying to be quick in taking my picture without being noticed.

Lunch this week. Actual meat? And veggies? And a wonderful sauce? I definitely have been missing out.

Breakfast mush and a roll. I actually like mush, which is a sweetened cream of wheat kind of hot breakfast.

Chicken pasta soup.

My lunch today, yum yum yum.

My mom, (I can’t believe I forgot her name, so embarrassing) and her daughters in law Andrea (the really tall 5 year old) and Jemena, who will turn 3 on Saturday.

I will upload the rest of my pictures into my future emails, so while I still wait around for my replacement at least I’ll have the opportunity to post my pics from my hikes and other activities. And before I go, here’s a quick shout out to Angela, celebrating her birthday today. Welcome to the 30’s amiga, they are not as bad as you might think! Feliz cumpleaños!

The following is an entry that was never posted, so
I’m trying again and hoping that this will work
because this is the last of my posts with pictures. I
still am not able to upload my pics from my camera and
my replacement card reader has not arrived, so enjoy
the pics!

Today I took a day trip with some
> classmates to Momostenango, which is about 30 miles
> outside of Xela. They are well known for their
> handmade wool blankets, ponchos and other woolen
> products. We took the cheap chicken buses from bus
> terminal Minerva to the home of a lady who sells her
> work in Xela. The following is just a pictorial of
> my day..
>
>
>
> From the bus stop at the side of the road (the bus
> will stop anywhere along its route), we hiked down
> the hillside to the family’s little plot of land
> complete with an outhouse, chickens and their work
> area.
>
>
>
>
> I’m not a weaving type of person, so I don’t know
> the name of these contraptions but they take the
> wool and somehow create these real kick ass
> blankets. It takes about one week to make a small
> rug or blanket.
>
>
>
>
> All the colors are natural and there are no
> chemicals used. Dye comes from plants, rocks and
> other natural products.
>
>
>
>
> It’s a family business, and the youngest 10, is
> pretty adept at putting together the designs and the
> carpet.
>
>
>
>
> A closer look.
>
>
>
>
> Judy tries her skills with a little assistance
> from one of the sons as Preston takes aim for an
> action shot. Judy and Preston are from Portland
> spending 3 weeks in Guatemala to learn Spanish and
> to do some traveling.
>
>
>
>
> The finished products.
>
>
>
>
> Dad shows some of our group different blankets
> from which to choose.
>
>
>
>
> Mom made some wonderful hot tortillas and tostadas
> which we filled with beans, guacamole, hot sauce and
> cheese. Deelish!
>
>
>
>
> Enjoying the food inside the little cocina and
> comedor area of their living quarters.
>
>
>
>
> Afterwards, we journeyed into Momostenango and to
> these strange rock formations.
>
>
>
>
> So, does it look like I’ve lost a little weight
> yet?
>
>
>
>
> A better aeriel view of the rock formations.
>
>
>

Our final stop was the mercado and church plaza
area of Momo, and then another harrowing ride back
aboard the chicken bus where we all got pretty sick
from all the “normal” driving (read fast, reckless –
by our US standards – and crowded). But we made it
back!

I really hope this entry posts to the blog with
the pics! More later…

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For my last week of classes I have a new family.  No, I didn’t do my homework to report back my host mom’s name, but her husband is Ernesto and he is a radio personality here in Xela and actually lived and worked in California for a few years a while back.  The home is only a 2 minute walk from school, which means that I can avoid all of that disgusting dust and smog fumes from the buses and cars on my walk to my first homestay.  Currently I share the home with mom and dad, as well as Ernesto’s sister Claudia and her two hijas (daughters) Andrea (5 years old) and Jemema (almost 3 years old).  What is very surprising is the level of maturity that Andrea displays.  Little Tonito from my first homestay was just that–little, tiny, with a mind that didn’t seem too advanced for his age.  As a matter of fact, the two German girls that stayed in the home commented that Tonito was stupid.  Andrea, on the other hand, has a highly developed sense of self and the world and is quite the intellect.  She is also almost twice Tonito’s size, and I wonder if she really is 5.  But she is, and will be 6 next month.  She showed me some of her tarea (homework), and I was impressed with the quality of the materials and books that her school sends her home with.  I’m wondering if the development of the two kids I’m comparing has a direct relationship to the schools or quality of education that they receive.  I know that Tonito goes to school for 3 hours per day, and I’m sure that Andrea gets at least that much.  As far as public versus private, I don’t know what type of school each goes to.  But it is definitely apparent that sizing up Andrea and Tonito, pun intended, shows that Andrea is quite a bit more advanced as far as education goes.  Just a quick observation I only thought about just now.

 My food situation is improved, even though for breakfast this morning I once again had eggs, black beans, corn tortillas and bread.  Just can’t get away from it.  But like I said yesterday, there is a certain amount of care and preparation that is miles and miles different from my first home stay.  I’ve eaten quite a bit the last 2 days, and I believe that my body may go into overload shock from the quantity of food I have had the opportunity to indulge in.  So today I purposely did not buy any fruit, empanadas or other snacks during my break.  Funny how sometimes you set out to do something, and what you try to avoid still finds its way back to you.  Because despite my withholding of buying food, somehow I still ended up eating offerings of other students and racked up points for eating some papaya, pineapple, 8 donut holes (cinnamon, glazed, sugar), macadamia nuts, chocolate, half a Peppermint patty (one of my last remaining candybars from home) and something else that I can’t remember now.  Tonight I’ve informed my host mom that I won’t be eating dinner, as I’ll be going with some friends to the Royal Paris Cafe for the Tuesday movie and dinner night.  The film tonight is “Umberto D” from Italy in Spanish subtitles.  Since my Spanish is going oh-so-well, it will be interesting to see how much I can understand.  So I suppose I’ll need to report back tomorrow with my experience, as well as finding out the name for my new host mom.  I still think it’s something like “Aera”.  Hasta mañana.

Okay, the whole thing about the hike and my stomach, it was all made up! I retract my statements. I only do this so that I can bring some peace of mind to my mother, who doesn’t take too well to how I treat my body. I am fine, I was fine, because I actually spent the weekend at the Xela mall, eating at the foodcourt, watching Hollywood movies dubbed in Spanish, and searching for the best price for a washing machine. So yeah, that’s how I ACTUALLY spent my weekend.

And because my weekend was so laid back and lazy, I have decided that I need more physical activity for this week. Well, aside from my physical demands on my mental mind for learning Spanish, I went ahead and signed up for the Quetzeltrekkers 3 day hike from Xela to Lago Atitlan. This one won’t involve waking up at 4 in the morning or having stomach ailments — at least that is not the plan.

This is my last week of Spanish classes, last Friday another Portlander, Judy, ended her series of classes. She’s now in another part of Guatemala on a Habitat for Humanity project–small world we live in! I’m surprised that I didn’t meet any other Portlanders today, but my school did get 3 from Connecticut, one from Denmark, one from Germany, and one from California.

Finally, for my last week of classes, I did inherit Kathy’s family. Last night my dinner was corn tortillas and black bean soup! And for breakfast this morning? Fried egg, black beans and corn tortillas! Unbelievable! No, believable! C’est la vie, and such is my luck. But know what? There is a difference in preparation. I cannot stomach how my last family prepared the beans and eggs and tortillas. My new mom, oh crap! I forgot her name!!! Aoer? Aeyr? Aeoe? Well, she actually takes time and care into her meal preparation, so even though I was initially horrified at the prospects of my dinner, I gave it a shot and enjoyed the soup and FRESH, hot off the grill corn tortillas. And my breakfast this morning? After I swore on Elvis’ grave that I would NEVER eat that combo of food again? Well, I didn’t break my word to the King. I specifically said that I could NEVER eat the combo of corn tortillas, black beans and eggs. Together. But I can eat 2 of the 3, or 1 of the 3. I have an out. And so this morning, I ate the black beans and the fried egg, but sin (without) the corn tortillas. Instead I just had a slice of bread. So I didn’t break my vow. I am still NEVER EVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER FOREVER eating that combo of black beans, eggs and tortillas. Well, unless I get paid over $1,000, then maybe, just maybe I’ll suffer the torture and those war flashbacks of climbing the mountain with my diarriah, vomit, dehydration, no energy, ailing stomach and 50 pounds on my back breathing air at 4000 feet. Oh wait, that didn’t happen. Nope, it was just a great story, people know that I’d never do something like that! So bring on those eggs, black beans and tortillas. I can take it.

I lie.

That is my kryptonite.

Miserable. An experience I will never forget.

Vital Stats:

Number of hikers: 31 Germany, Australia, US, Bulgaria, Sweden, UK and more
Number of guides: 3
Number of times I threw up: 1
Number of times I hovered over the ground in throw-up anticipation: 5
Number of times I shit in the woods: 3
Number of times I practiced my Spanish: ZERO
Number of times I cursed under my breath: Gillions, kabillions to the 65th power
Number of medicine “pills” taken: ZERO
Number of times I went out of the tent from 4pm-4:30am (twice — once to throw up, the other to pee)
Food I ate on Saturday:
Breakfast: scrambled eggs, corn tortillas, black beans, 2 small portions of fried bananas, and a little bit of yogurt.
Snack: Trail mix! No, couldn’t eat any of it.
Lunch: PBJ sandwiches, salads, guacamole, chips, etc. etc. But once again, I couldn’t imagine putting anything into my system.
Dinner: Soup, pasta, cookies, bread. NADA. I ate a small portion of a chocolate bar around 11pm in the evening. And had a little tea that one of the guides got for me.

There is only one experience that has pushed me to my physical and mental limits. That was my first marathon, where at mile 22 I hit the wall and bonked. I had been averaging around 9 minute miles, but the last 4.2 miles were more around 11, then 12, then 13 minutes…I cramped up and had nothing left in my energy stores. I knew that if I stopped running, I wouldn’t even be able to walk to the finish. No stopping, gotta keep going I told myself. At the finish, I basically collapsed and medical personnel were there to assist me. The last mile was the absolute worse. I have no idea how I was able to finish. Just a matter of pushing pushing pushing.

The hike to Volcan Tajumulco was supposed to be a little more difficult than my previous hike up to Volcan Santiaguito. It is the highest point in Central America. The night before, I we went out to celebrate Kathy’s last days in Xela. After our weekly dinner at school, we went to a local bar and then to Casa Babylon. Somewhere between the school dinner and Casa Babylon, I unfortunately managed to score a stomach virus. Was it the strange tasting spaghetti that one of the teachers, Sylvia cooked? Maybe it was the yogurt liquado with melon at the bar? Or maybe the plate of meat that I ordered at Casa Babylon? It tasted really good, not unlike the funky taste I had with the yogurt liquado. Can spoiled yogurt cause bouts of diarriah and stomach flu-like sypmtoms? Whatever it was that I ate, the combination of the Friday night food intake and the Saturday morning breakfast at the local comador (restaurant) did not sit well. I can honestly say that I am damaged for LIFE. Never ever never ever forever will I eat the combination of eggs, black beans and corn tortillas AGAIN! Especially not after how it made me feel on the hike up, and then looking at it looking back at me when I spilled my stomach to the ground. There is now a definite association between black beans, eggs and corn tortillas that will forever be ingrained in my mind. I am traumatized.

I woke up Saturday morning not feeling so well. Once again, even though I went to bed at a normally good time of 11:30pm, I just couldn’t get any sleep. I woke up at 4:30 for the 4:45 meeting time. Staying at Casa Argentina, Quetzeltrekkers offices are right there so I didn’t need to hike 30 minutes to the meeting place like I did on Wednesday.

We rode the backs of pickups to Bus Terminal Minerva, where we took a chicken bus to San Marcos. We were early enough that we were all able to sit down. Then, at 7:45 we sat down at the comedor. And my worst nightmare came true. The breakfast that I shall not speak of. I had already felt a tremendous pain in my stomach on the ride over, and used the bathroom twice before we took another chickenbus to the starting point of our climb. Unfortunately, over half of us were not able to sit on the 90 minute ride. I was able to get a seat, but the bumps and the curves made me feel even more nauseated and in no shape to hike, let alone climb a mountain.

If it were different circumstances, I would say that the climb is not really that difficult. There is a lot of altitude gain, but the guides take frequent stops and we really go at a turtle’s pace, simply because the terrian is so steep. This was unlike my previous hike, were the pace was a little faster and it was quite the work out. The views were fantastic, that is if you take the time to look. Because most of the time, your attention is focused on the ground and where you walk and step. And for me, it was trying to support all the weight on my shoulders and not think about my ailing stomach.

Somehow I made it to base camp at 4pm. I felt like shit. We were 220 meters from the summit. Base camp is where we would spend the night and then wake up early the next morning to climb the final ascent to watch the sunrise.

I was so helpless and listless and had nothing left. Everyone but I chipped in to set up camp. I laid on the ground in a little ball. I was helped over to the nearest tent, where I collapsed into the tent in my fetal position for the remainder of the evening and into the morning. I missed out on the hike to the viewpoint to watch the sunset. I also missed out on the dinner, the campfire, the marshmellows and hanging out. Saturday evening was just miserable. I wrapped up in my warmest clothing in anticipation for the rough cold, but because of my condition I was hot and sweaty all night and I was just in pain. I must say though, I didn’t really get cold while I was in the tent.

4:15 am arrives. Time to gather together to hike in the darkness to the summit for the sunrise. We left around 4:30, I was in the middle of the pack. Still feeling like shit, I tried to keep up but fell behind. I took frequent stops, trying to breathe and trying to talk myself up to the summit. Good thing I had my headlamp, because it was pitch black and you were seriously climbing, using all four limbs to get up to the next ledge or clearing and resting where you could. The whole time I struggled, but others were in the same boat. It was a good hour of effort before I finally reached the top. But I was not out of the clear yet.

The top afforded spectacular views 360 degrees around, but when I am huddled into a little ball, sitting up against a rock with the fierce winds whipping all around, it is a little hard to enjoy. I stayed at my rock for an hour as we waited, and then watched the sun rise. But for me, staying in that position created a side effect that I did not anticipate. My left foot froze. Seriously, I just froze to the point of no feeling. I could feel the onset of tingles but didn’t think anything of it. It was when I went to feel my ankle with my hand, but couldn’t feel my foot, when I knew this was not a good thing. I couldn’t wiggles my toes, and when I tried to move my foot up and down, I couldn’t feel a thing. Such a strange feeling to lose feeling in a part of a body that you know should be working. I was able to get the attention of a guide, who unraveled her sleeping bag, untied my shoe and put my foot in the warm cocoon. I rubbed my foot and tried to move it, the whole time the sun coming up and everyone enjoying the scene. It was probably 10-15 minutes before I gained some feeling in my foot, and then finally when we left to go back to camp I was able to stand and then walk on it. But the whole sunrise over Central America was anti-climactic. So much hard work to get up the mountain, then when I get there, the wind is so freaking cold that I almost freeze my left foot off.

I don’t need to go over the rest of the day. We got back to base camp, I finally put some food in my system (oatmeal), and I made it down and back to Xela by 6pm. I will never forget this period of 24 hours.

Only my first marathon surpasses the physical and mental torture that I endured during this climb. What I did was stupid, but I am stubborn so I guess it isn’t surprising that I would push myself like this. But climbing a mountain in darkness, totally dehydrated and without food for the last 24 hours, dizzy and without energy, is just plain dumb. Miserable is the only way I can describe my hike up Volcan Tajumulco. I somehow survived on nothing more than sheer will and hard-headed stubborness. I know one thing for sure though. I have had my last serving of eggs, black beans and corn tortillas. Yuck, puke, gross, barf, Volcan Tajumulco.

Once again I find myself with very limited internet time, plus I still can’t upload all of my recent pictures, so a quick update before the weekend.

Phat Tuesday was much more than I, and the rest of the gringos I was with, than I bargained for. I need my photos to explain what really happened, but let’s just say for now that kids smashing hollowed out eggshells with confetti is putting it very very mildly. Our group of 6, and then 8, were targeted from the get-go, and while it was fun initially, things got a little out of hand and I think we left just in the nick of time before one of us might have become seriously injured.

Tuesday night was also the very last night of my homestay with my family. When I returned home at 10pm I noticed that the house had been re-occupied. Bags were left in the la sala, the lights were on. But no sign of my mom or little noisey Tonito. I took a last shower, packed my bag, and went to bed. But couldn’t sleep for the whole night. Which doesn’t help when one must go backpacking in a few hours. I woke up at 6am, left a note on the kitchen table with the keys, took the last yogurt in the fridge, and walked the 25 minutes to the meeting point.

The hike is the easiest of the 4 that Quetzeltrekkers offers, so I figured this would be a good way to gauge my ability. There were 8 of us, plus 2 guides. Totaly hiking time is only 3.5-4 hours, but with plenty of breaks and rest stops (including a dip in the lake) the total was closer to 6 hours. I thought that I was in shape. Yeah, but maybe not after eating half the number of calories that I am used to back home. The trek up Volcan Santiguito totally kicked my ass. I hate to admit it, but I was the weak wus in our group. I haven’t really backpacked with gear and food and 4.5 litres of water before. Plus my bag isn’t really that big, so I had to be creative with hanging our extra food and such on my bag. The first few hours were fine, just level ground. But the part after lunch was excruitating. My legs burned, I huffed and puffed and the weight on my shoulders was a huge burden. Plus I over ate during lunch and the immediate work up the mountain took it’s toll on my stomach filled with 3 P&J sandwiches, tortillas chips and guacamole, potato salad and lots of water. I am still feeling the soreness in my shoulders.

One of my calf muscles cramped up just before we arrived to camp, so when we finally arrived to our clearing, everyone pitched in with setting up tents, kitchen, etc. and I was the lazy one in the bunch as I “stretched” and pretended to be preoccupied. I did help thread one tent pole though, so I wasn’t totally useless! We were about 2km from the volcano, and during the evening’s trembles and eruptions, the clouds finally cleared away to reveal a beatiful night sky with lave flows viewable from our vantage point. Volcan Santiguito is the most active of Guatemala’s 37 volcanoes, and it did not disappoint. Any closer and we would put ourselves in great danger, as there have been deaths in the last few years with people trying to climb it and getting caught by rock projectiles and vents. So our viewing spot was just as close as I wanted to be, thank you very much.

I realized something during my overnight hike up the Volcano. I like being clean. I like having that feeling of a warm, relaxing shower and climbing into clean clothes. Because I hated how I felt coming down the mountain. Itchy mosquito bites all over my arms, neck and legs. Inhaling dust from the path. Having my shirt soaked in sweat. And being showered with ash. Our route was a beautiful one with changing landscapes and challenging terrian. Going through the trees, our path is narrow and we knock into the vegetation on numerous occassions, which means a shake, rattle and roll and the person behind you gets a fine layer of ash. I felt so dirty and grimey yesterday. Dank and stinky and everyone else was too. So as I type this all nice and clean, I know that 24 hours from now I’ll be back in the state of wretchedness once again.

Because despite how badly the “easy” hike Volcan Santiguito kicked my ass, I decided to sign up and climb Volcan Tajumulco for tomorrow. Common sense says I should not, especially in my body’s banged up condition, plus that fact that everyone I’ve talked to who has done the hike say that they froze during the night despite 2 sleeping bags, layers of clothing, gloves, hats, you name it. Yeah, I should probably just enjoy my hostel room and go out to dinner at Cafe Royal Paris or something. But nah, it’s time for another hike. Cause I’m stubborn, cause that’s what I’m here to do (learn Spanish? okay, I’ll bring my flash cards on my climb tomorrow) and what better way of spending the weekend than climbing up to the highest point in Central America, camping out 200 meters below the summit, then waking up at 4am to climb to the top and watch the sunrise? Well worth the 8 hours of freezing in my dirty clothes and my sore, cramped up muscles, I say. Well, I guess you’ll have to wait until Monday to see what I really have to say. But that’s the plan anyways. And with a HUGE group of 30 climbers, there’s bound to be someone who is more of a wus, more of weakling than I am. Forget about playing basketball every weekend and running marathons, I have the utmost respect for people carrying 50 pounds or more on their back hiking up a mountain, this is hard work! And so I hope I’ll somehow manage to get to the top tomorrow, only freeze for 5 or 6 hours, and come back Sunday evening (to my new family! Kathy’s family!!) to a warm shower, good food, and time to recount the hike. So while everyone is enjoying a nice Saturday evening at home or in a restaurant or in the movie theater, please send WARM thoughts my way because I will seriously be freezing 4000 meters above sea level (no idea what that is in feet, I missed that chapter in my econmics / home economics class). And before I go, a shout out to Megan who returned back to the states and is using the Spanish she learned at Sakribal for up to 5 hours a day, way to go! (okay I lied Megan, but we’ll just pretend, okay?! We miss ya!). Have a fab weekend all!