Break

After yesterday’s suck fest, I decided to take a day off. Robin left this morning at nine to go back to the U.S. and then on to Honduras for her missionary work. I woke up later than usual (8am) but still in time to eat breakfast with her and say goodbye. It was sad having her leave. I’m not sure how things will be now that she’s gone, but she was a funny little bird and I’m glad to have known her.

Today was mostly a day of wandering. I spent most of it with Eddie, my new amable from Yorkshire by way of London. His homestay had become unacceptably boring recently and he was in search of a new family. Alicia’s home had room and so we went to visit. I had been contemplating leaving the Panederia, mostly because of some missing money, but decided to stick it out. I’m comfortable here, minus the two hundred, and while it would be supremely cool to live with some friends, the new homestay is a twin bed. Maybe that sounds obnoxious, but I dare anyone to move down to a twin after twenty years in a queen.

Later on we decided to go to Pastores, the town of Forrest’s water workshop, and check out their famous leather making and boot shops. We found the chicken bus heading to Pastores and hopped aboard. Eddie was determined to buy some cowboy boots so he could legitimately apply to be a gaucho on an Argentinian ranch. I wanted red boots. We found both. After wandering the single shop street of Pastores, we both decided we liked the look and proprietors of a shop called Bronco Botas. Eddie lucked out, with boots his size and taste. I had less fortune, with my large feet. Eventually the señora settled in to measure my foot with a ballpoint pen on the back of a news flyer. She measured my arch and then slid the tape over my heel to make sure I could slide my foot in the boot. I told her my preferred color, corinte (reddish) and forked over 100Q (12 dollars) and the promise that my custom made boots would be ready in eight days. I hope I remember to go back.



Pastores was a typical Guatemalan town I believe. The main road housed most of the leather shops, and another large road intersected in a T and led straight up to the church. There were a few men with drums and a flute, playing tunes around workers on a ladder and with a bunch of streamers, getting ready for Corpus Christy I imagine. The cemetery was creepy and awesome, the mountains in the distance gorgeous and the river water sparkling and quick. And, like everywhere here without tax help, trash and garbage strewed the roads and rivers. For some reason, when we left Pastores, we decided to walk back towards Antigua on the side of the road. We only walked for a bit before hailing a bus, but in that brief stroll I noticed one spotlessly clean area. It was a privately owned field, but incredibly noticeable for its lack of refuse. Strange. It was like my brain had forgotten what an expanse of green looked like and registered the clean park field as an anomaly.



Guatemala is gorgeous, and Antigua is stunning, but every country has its problems. Poorer countries often have a problem with municipal jobs because they cannot pay employees. The first thing that is noticeable about someone is their appearance, and countries are no different. Everyone here notices the beauty of Guatemala, and the trash that consumes it. Still, despite everything, you can't help but be overwhelmed at times.



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For dinner this evening we ran over to Rainbow Café. Somewhere along the way I had forgotten to eat lunch and by 7pm I was ravenous. Ordering chicken nachos was a great idea, and I dug in enthusiastically without noticing the small group of 8 year old girls that had assembled around the microphone. Hoping to be transformed emotionally by their musical talent, I was nevertheless unsurprised when their first song turned out to be a phonetically sung Spanish version of Doe A Deer. The cute factor ran out around thirty seconds into Take Me Out to the Ballgame, but one little girl’s rendition of John Lennon’s Imagine was surprisingly tender. Still, after fifteen minutes I was ready to pay out 20Q and call it an evening. Happily, their little concert ended quite soon and was followed by the local Rainbow crooner. His covers of Bono and Kings of Leon were welcome.

This evening turned out to be full of local music. After Rainbow we headed out to find a different bar. The goal was a pub with a plug so I could use my computer and internet. Eddie stopped by his house and picked up his laptop as well and we walked over to 5th for a stop in the nice wine shop. We got all the way in, asking for a table near a plug, when I realized that we had forgotten about WiFi. For some reason it had slipped both our minds and I thought it was hilarious that two gringos would wander around Guate with computers and cables, looking for wine and high speed.

We found it across the street though, at Don Rodrigo, along with a pleasant highland Mayan band on marimba’s and an upright bass. An old couple at the next table got up to dance and the little man was incredibly cute, spry on his feet, dancing a little courting step around his wife.

The evening’s musical repertoire ended on the corner of 5th in Parque Central with a group of local singers, dressed in matching red and silver buckled outfits singing old Spanish ballads. They had drawn quite a crowd, for good reason, as the lead’s voice was strong and well sung. He had an accordion and the rest of the group played guitars, upright, trumpets and a violin. We listened for a good bit before heading home, and I really enjoyed their playing. The singer was enthusiastic and happy, even dancing a little jig during one of his ballads.

Today was a good day, full of happy people and good decisions. I made some pharmacist laugh so hard today I thought he’d pass out. All I did was go in and ask for cleanser. Eddie’s thumbs had been damaged in the week’s street mucking and he was a bit worried (rightly) that they’d have to be amputated. We stopped by a pharmacy and I said to the shop keeper, “Necesitamos hydrogen peroxide.” For some reason, he thought this was hilarious. I don’t know if it was my accent, or the fact that I mixed one easily conjugated spanish verb with two english medicine words, or maybe it was Eddie and his thumbs. Whatever the case, Mr Pharmacist started cracking up, which made me and E started laughing, and the whole thing just got out of control. Strangely, he knew exactly what we were looking for and came back with hydrogen peroxide, 3Q, in a nicely boring brown bottle. Still cackling, he took the coins that E forked over and we left the shop. It was a funny incident, and uplifting somehow.

A good day.