Ok, so the idea of a blog is, presumably, that you should update it. This has not been happening. I can only apologise profusely and and attempt to rectify the situation forthwith...
In an ideal world, the time between this and my last post would have seen me carefully jotting down hilarious phrases and witty anecdotes, leaving me now solely with the job of pulling these constituent parts into a satisfactory, neigh glorious, whole.
Unfortunately, such jottings are conspicuously absent, so, absolutely do not expect any concise storytelling as I assure you, dear friend, you will be sorely disappointed. Although, having said that, I could in fact abandon this whole ridiculous blogging business and simply write novel with all the material Gladis, my teacher, has imparted since our fateful meeting. Like, for serious. Everything that could ever have happened to anyone (mainly bad) has happened to her, to one of her friends or to one of her numerous family members. The woman is an accident and tragedy-prone hoot.
Soooo, I've been working with an NGO called Neustros Aejados just outside Antigua for the past few weeks. The organisation incorporates lost of different projects, for example, they run a homeless shelter, a malnutrition clinic for babies, a school, an anti-human trafficking division, a food distribution programme etc etc. There are a few Americans knocking about - god love 'em - but, on the whole, it is run by local Guatemalan people. Actually, quite a few of the staff were people who went to the school as kids and returned, having completed university, to help the system to continue.
I find it a bit difficult to talk about some of this stuff because at times it has affected me in quite a profound way and I'm fearful of sounding like a voyeuristic chump. I have spent quite a lot of time at Casa Jackson - the place for malnourished babies - and out with the social workers who visit the families of the children at the school... I should add that the school is for, quite literally, the poorest people in the community, therefore, in order for things to work, when a child is taken on, the whole family is incorporated, with Neustros Aejados working closely with them to provide support in various forms. I'll go into more detail another time but it's late, I just got back from working in a homeless shelter (Mother Theresa eat your heart out) and I need my bed...In fact, sod it, I'm doing the bullet point thing:
- Electric shocks. Unavoidable. Especially in the shower. Can't remember the last time I had a shower without getting an electric shock. Effing annoying/ potentially life threatening.
- Ladies night in Antigua. To be avoided. At all costs
- Americans abroad to build stoves. See above.
- Hocotees. Would recommend. Little apple pear plum cherry things which taste like, and I suspect actually are, little nuggets of fruit heaven.
- Lago Atitlan. A huge crater lake surrounded by volcanoes. An absolute must-see before you pop your clogs - you cannot beat a Sunday morning swim off a rickety wooden jetty into crystal clear water. Ignore rumours of toxic algae.
- Helmets. Wear one when you ride a dirt-bike into the mountains. Or if you don't, do NOT tell your Mother.
- Earthquakes. A new experience. Not convinced it is an experience one would like to repeat on a grander scale.
- Salsa lessons. First one today. I wish I could say I styled it out, I fear the truth maybe somewhat different.
- Chicken buses. Efficient, cheap and fun but hold onto your bag. A journey aboard one would definitely be aided by having a rudimentary grasp of Spanish i.e. we didn't/ don't so had not a blithering clue what was going on.
- Baby sick. Not cool. 'Nuff said.
This post probably isn't going to be in the running for any sort of literary award, however, given the time of day and my lack of inclination, I would argue it represents a sterling effort.
Adios
Friday 23 April 2010
Friday 9 April 2010
No hablo espanol
So, nearly two weeks has passed since I arrived. That's mental. Ease myself in gently I thought, but then, you know what they say about the best laid plans.
Last Wednesday, I found myself on the side of a volcano; Pacaya was it's name and pretty stunning it was too, especially as it's extremely active. As I stood a comparatively conservative foot away from the river of molten lava, watching a couple of jaunty Antipodeans laughingly lean over to light cigarettes from the face-melting heat, I am fairly sure anyone within a two mile radius who ever vaguely flirted with the notion of Health and Safety regulations must have spontaneously combusted...
Yet, possibly, one of the best things about the whole gloriously terrifying affair was knowing that you'd never be able to do this in Europe or the US where, instead of being left to clamber over this shoe-dissolving moonscape to your heart's content, you'd be locked in a holding pen 14 kilometres away and given a pair of padded binoculars. After, of course, signing numerous forms of varying legibility, legality and small print which would ensure that no one, under any circumstance, could be held liable for any sort of injury or misfortune that may befall you. Ever. Even if they shot you in the face on purpose.
Somewhat different but in other ways similarly alien, this Easter weekend my adopted family quite unexpectedly whisked me off to the home of their eldest son on the Pacific Coast. He lives with the rest of his huge family, AND his wife's huge family, in a half built house near Puerto San Jose. A nice house actually but the money ran out before they could finish it, I never did get to the bottom of why. Quite possibly because 97 percent of the time I have literally no idea what's going on.*
Cor blimey guvnor it was HOT. I mean 40 degrees at nine in the morning hot. As in, self-confessed hypochondriac that I am, I really thought I was going to die during the night. To fend off what I felt to be an impending and unpleasant demise, at two in the morning I abandoned my bed in favour of the sofa which, although not much cooler, was nearer the fridge so I was able intermittently to return to for bags of ice which I could then press onto my face and stomach. This, however, had the unfortunate side-effect of consolidating any suspicions they all might have had that I'm a bit of a strange one.
Despite the somewhat extreme weather conditions and unbelievable number of sodding mosquitoes, who apparently love a bit of pasty English tottie, I was once again pretty overcome by the level of hospitality and welcome I received. An overwhelming few days at times, yes, but jumping onto the back of an open pick-up with approximately 14 smiling family members, feeling the wind in your hair, banana trees and tiendas blurring together at the roadside (from the speed we were travelling at, not the influence of narcotics, don't worry mum), I would defy anyone not to find themselves with a grin of exhilaration on their face. In terms of an 'authentic experience', a phrase favoured by tourist brochures from here to Blighty, you couldn't ask for much more.
This whole traveller 'embracing the new and exciting maaann' shebang was brought into sharp contrast by a drink I had with a scintillating chap in Riki's bar, however. This character - let's call him Tristan (as that was his name) - declared, moments after we met, that he 'couldn't be bothered with any of this carrying around pretend dead people bollocks' for Antigua's Holy Week. Indeed, according to him and his fascinating perspective on life in general, people here are 'weird' and waste money on a load of crap that doesn't mean anything or serve any sort of purpose. Why then, I asked with interest, was he in Guatemala for one of the most famously religious events in the world? Turns out that this delightful bloke (massive tool) was in Guatemala to act as a guinea pig for a medical test. Whilst he got to stay in 4 star hotel and have his holiday paid for, he was also being used as a subject upon which to experiment a new drug. Hm, what a legend, we'll definitely be keeping in touch.
*case in point: when I thought we were going to buy fish we actually pulled up at a hospital where I was presented with a newborn baby.
Last Wednesday, I found myself on the side of a volcano; Pacaya was it's name and pretty stunning it was too, especially as it's extremely active. As I stood a comparatively conservative foot away from the river of molten lava, watching a couple of jaunty Antipodeans laughingly lean over to light cigarettes from the face-melting heat, I am fairly sure anyone within a two mile radius who ever vaguely flirted with the notion of Health and Safety regulations must have spontaneously combusted...
Yet, possibly, one of the best things about the whole gloriously terrifying affair was knowing that you'd never be able to do this in Europe or the US where, instead of being left to clamber over this shoe-dissolving moonscape to your heart's content, you'd be locked in a holding pen 14 kilometres away and given a pair of padded binoculars. After, of course, signing numerous forms of varying legibility, legality and small print which would ensure that no one, under any circumstance, could be held liable for any sort of injury or misfortune that may befall you. Ever. Even if they shot you in the face on purpose.
Somewhat different but in other ways similarly alien, this Easter weekend my adopted family quite unexpectedly whisked me off to the home of their eldest son on the Pacific Coast. He lives with the rest of his huge family, AND his wife's huge family, in a half built house near Puerto San Jose. A nice house actually but the money ran out before they could finish it, I never did get to the bottom of why. Quite possibly because 97 percent of the time I have literally no idea what's going on.*
Cor blimey guvnor it was HOT. I mean 40 degrees at nine in the morning hot. As in, self-confessed hypochondriac that I am, I really thought I was going to die during the night. To fend off what I felt to be an impending and unpleasant demise, at two in the morning I abandoned my bed in favour of the sofa which, although not much cooler, was nearer the fridge so I was able intermittently to return to for bags of ice which I could then press onto my face and stomach. This, however, had the unfortunate side-effect of consolidating any suspicions they all might have had that I'm a bit of a strange one.
Despite the somewhat extreme weather conditions and unbelievable number of sodding mosquitoes, who apparently love a bit of pasty English tottie, I was once again pretty overcome by the level of hospitality and welcome I received. An overwhelming few days at times, yes, but jumping onto the back of an open pick-up with approximately 14 smiling family members, feeling the wind in your hair, banana trees and tiendas blurring together at the roadside (from the speed we were travelling at, not the influence of narcotics, don't worry mum), I would defy anyone not to find themselves with a grin of exhilaration on their face. In terms of an 'authentic experience', a phrase favoured by tourist brochures from here to Blighty, you couldn't ask for much more.
This whole traveller 'embracing the new and exciting maaann' shebang was brought into sharp contrast by a drink I had with a scintillating chap in Riki's bar, however. This character - let's call him Tristan (as that was his name) - declared, moments after we met, that he 'couldn't be bothered with any of this carrying around pretend dead people bollocks' for Antigua's Holy Week. Indeed, according to him and his fascinating perspective on life in general, people here are 'weird' and waste money on a load of crap that doesn't mean anything or serve any sort of purpose. Why then, I asked with interest, was he in Guatemala for one of the most famously religious events in the world? Turns out that this delightful bloke (massive tool) was in Guatemala to act as a guinea pig for a medical test. Whilst he got to stay in 4 star hotel and have his holiday paid for, he was also being used as a subject upon which to experiment a new drug. Hm, what a legend, we'll definitely be keeping in touch.
*case in point: when I thought we were going to buy fish we actually pulled up at a hospital where I was presented with a newborn baby.
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