Volunteer Teaching

From Iain: We're in the thick of three weeks of volunteer teaching in Nebaj now.  I'm doing computer and cooking classes while Tanya is doing English classes for both children and adults.

Simon Says "Touch Your Nose"

The cooking classes are for the restaurant that the group will be opening shortly.  A chef is coming from the U.S. in a few weeks to teach them to prepare Indian main courses so I'm showing them some simple baked goods.  Two challenges are the limited ingredients and equipment available here, but so far we've successfully made bread, cookies, and carrot cake.  If we can find chocolate we'll try brownies tomorrow.  Bethany and Sierra have been helping in the English and cooking classes.
I've also been helping to update the group's laptop computers and to eliminate the plethora of viruses most of them are infected with.  I wonder if the bozos that write these viruses would be at all bothered by the knowledge that their actions have prevented this organization - who cannot afford to pay for computer assistance - from being able to use their computers to help their community.  It's dispiriting how long it is taking to undo the damage to those computers that I can fix, while some of the computers are beyond my limited ability to repair them.  Thank goodness for freely available antivirus software.

Arrival in Nebaj

From Iain: We chickened out of taking a chicken bus from Xela to Nebaj and instead arranged to be driven by car.  With our luggage, the buses sounded just a little too daunting since they would have involved at least one change, possibly more.  Since Nebaj is a little off the beaten track, taking a shuttle van didn't seem to be an option, but after trailing around a series of travel agencies in Xela we managed to knock the price of a private car down from US$200 to US$130.  So, on Friday a friendly chap called Jorge drove us to Nebaj in his Toyota Corolla (about 90% of the vehicles in Guatemala appear to be Toyotas).  I'm not sure he didn't bite off a bit than he'd bargained for since he evidently hadn't driven to Nebaj before (he asked for directions from bystanders on five or six occasions).  He also had to drive over about 23 million speed bumps on the way and with each one scraping the bottom of his car his grin got more and more strained.  The already throaty sounding engine of his car sounded noticeably rougher when we finally rolled into Nebaj about four and a half hours after setting off.
The main reason we're in Nebaj is to do some volunteer work with Grupos de Mujeres y Hombres por la Paz, an independent community organization of Ixhil Mayans.  Some of the members, Abraham, David, and Miguel, met us when we arrived and showed us into our home for the next three weeks, their recently acquired and renovated hostel.  It's very basic and it looks to have been a struggle to make the building that houses the hostel habitable, but the members of the group are all very friendly and eager to make things work for us while we're here.  It appears that we'll be helping them with English and computer classes and also with learning to do some baking for the new restaurant project that they have.  This is all still a little up in the air as we've only been here a few days , so we'll post more details on this later.  In the meantime, here's a quick view of Nebaj and some of the group members who accompanied us on a walk yesterday:

Nebaj

Guatemalan earthquake

From Iain: We left San Antonio early this morning on a chicken bus bound for Quetzaltenango (nicknamed Xela) in the Western Highlands.  After about two and a half hours we arrived safe and sound and found a taxi to take us to our hostel, Casa Renaissance, near the city centre.  About 10 minutes after arriving we heard some low rumblings and then felt the floor beneath our feet and buildings around us begin to rattle and shake quite violently.  At first I held the girls close to me under a door frame but then we quickly scurried to join Tanya in the open courtyard of the hostel.  The ground seemed to be moving around as we stood there with the other people in the hostel, almost like being on a ship in rough waters.  The movement lasted probably 30-40 seconds.  The power went out right away and has just come back on about an hour or so later.  Fortunately the hostel kitchen has a gas cooker so we were able to make some tea while we waited for the power to come back on.  One of the other hostel guests went out to the street and heard from a taxi driver that there has been some damage in Guatemala City, perhaps even some people killed.  There was minor damage to the hostel, with some plaster falling from a wall and a light fixture breaking in one of the rooms.  Apparently the earthquake had an estimated magnitude of 7.4 and was centred just off the Pacific coast of Guatemala, about 115 km from where we are now.  There is more information on the BBC News website and pictures here.

From Bethany: Did you hear about the huge earthquake in Guatemala? I was in it. We'd just arrived in this new hostel and like 20 minutes after we arrived the earth starts shaking. Me and Sierra are like, "big deal, an earthquake." Then mommy tells us to get outside, so we do. It was really cool because the windows were all rattling and it felt like we were on a boat. The ground was actually moving!!! Later it was all on the news and everything and apparently it was the biggest earthquake since 1976 or something like that. It was strange because I wasn't actually scared while the earthquake was actually happening but afterward I was when I realized that while Sierra and I were laughing and having fun that other people in Guatemala were dying.

Chilling by Lake Atitlan

From Iain: I was wrong, the bus we took from Antigua to Panajachel on Lake Atitlan was a chicken bus.  The chickens had to ride on top of the bus, however.  Not only do the extravagant paint jobs brighten up and differentiate the old school buses, they also make them go about ten times faster.  Ideal for zipping round blind bends on mountain roads.  The driver tries to keep the bus moving at all times, even while passengers hop aboard or jump off.  There are also no delays while the ticket guy puts the larger items of luggage on the roof with the chickens - he simply climbs onto the roof with the luggage while the bus is still moving and then climbs back down into the bus through the back door.  In fact he kept popping up to the roof - maybe he was feeding the chickens too?
We're now spending a lazy week on the eastern shore of Lake Atitlan in a small town called San Antonio Palopo.  Since the tourist season hasn't really picked up yet, we're the only guests at what would probably be called a boutique hotel in North America, the Hotel Nuestro Sueno.  Unfortunately the shower head in our room broke the first time we tried to use it and, after a heavy rain shower on the first night, the roof leaked a little.  So, we're now in a grander room with an even more impressive view of the lake.
So far while we've been here we've eaten some fine breakfasts and dinners at the hotel, explored the town, gone kayaking on the lake,  eaten chocolate-covered frozen bananas and strawberries on a stick, and flown kites along with half the town during the All Saints' Day holidays.  Some of the kites flown by the townspeople had a diameter of at least 10 feet.
Today we ventured out of town and rode in the back of an open pickup truck to Panajachel, where we caught a public lancha (small motorboat) to San Pedro on the opposite side of the lake below the volcano of the same name (one of three volcanos ringing the lake).

San Pedro Volcano, Lake Atitlan

It turns out that San Pedro isn't much of a place to visit unless you're an aged (or not so aged) hippie or are looking for a Spanish language school.  Still, it was a good day out and we had a great, very filling lunch at Cafe La Puerta, where we sat outside right by the lake.  Whereas the boat out had taken an age, the boat back to Panajachel fairly whizzed though the water at a tremendous speed, giving the girls quite a thrill.  We had a bit more trouble catching a pickup back to San Antonio as a sudden downpour seemed to dry up the supply of pickups going our way.  We finally managed to find one and squeezed into the back with another twenty-odd people (who knew little Toyota pickups could haul so many people at one time?).  The sun was setting as we made it back to our hotel.

Antigua

From Iain: Today we spent a relaxing day wandering around the markets in Antigua.  We bought some interesting fruit, including lychees, some small oval green/red/yellow fruits with a thin skin, large pit, and sweet, slightly chalky yellow flesh, and some large brown fruits that resemble a potato from the outside but have a texture like a ripe pear on the inside and a very sweet taste.  We also bought some freshly made tortillas (both regular yellow corn ones and black corn ones), refried beans, and salsa.  For a dessert we bought a selection of hand-made candies and cookies, including some great fudge.
No-one felt too inclined to visit any specific tourist sites but we're planning to return to Antigua in a month's time when we can be a bit more adventurous.  Tomorrow we're catching an early bus to Lake Atitlan, although not a "chicken bus" (old, repainted U.S. school bus) like the ones below (at least, not as far as we know).  So it's early to bed now.

Chicken Buses and Volcano, Antigua

Two lines

From Iain: Our unpleasant experience at U.S. immigration a few days ago is still bothering me, so perhaps if I write about it some more I can purge it from my system...
We - all the passengers coming from Peru - were happy to land, surprised to feel so fatigued having been sitting for so long.  We'd all diligently filled out our landing and customs forms on the plane and we walked expectantly to the immigration hall.  We came to signs dividing us into two groups, U.S. citizens and residents one way, visitors another.  Since the girls and Tanya are U.S. citizens but I am not, we had to follow the visitors' sign.  Beyond the signs, the citizens and visitors from our flight entered the respective mazes winding their way to the border agents in their booths.  The signs above the booths indicated that half were allocated to citizens and half to residents.  Another flight's passengers were already in the lines and there looked to be about twice as many passengers in the citizens line as the visitors line.  All seemed well.
As the lines began to move, we in the visitors line began to take in the finer details of our situation.  We noticed that the citizens line was moving much faster than our own.  We could also see that while every citizen's booth contained a border agent, many of the visitor's booths were empty.  In fact, we could only see two agents processing visitors.  As we glanced around at each other to seek confirmation in each others' faces, one of the visitor agents left his booth and went into an adjoining office.  We kept looking for him to come back out again.
Soon all the previous flight's citizens and residents had been processed and many of the citizens and residents from our flight had also gone through.  The visitor's line had barely moved and the agent who had left his booth had not returned.  We began muttering quietly to ourselves, wondering why this was happening and how much longer we might be here.  Some of us had connecting flights and it seemed more and more unlikely that we would make these connections.  A man in a uniform at the front of the lines seemed to be directing people to the agents in the booths.  We assumed he was a border agent.  When some of us tried to ask him for help he ignored us and we realized he was only helping the citizen's line.  We then noticed a similarly uniformed woman in front of our line but she would not help those of us with connections either.  She soon appeared to tire of being asked for help and wandered away somewhere.
Another agent entered one of the visitors' booths so that we now had two agents processing us again.  Still our line crept forward while the citizens' line raced through.  As we looked more closely at those lucky visitors at the booths who were being processed, we noticed that after questioning some did not walk through to the area marked "customs" but were instead lead away through a separate door.  We became anxious about their fates, but not as anxious as we were that we would also be lead through that door when our time came.
Despite having been replenished with U.S. citizens and residents from other flights, the citizens' line had now dwindled to a handle of people and the uniformed man turned his attention to our line.  Perhaps now he would help us, we thought.  However, he did not permit us to now go to the agents in the citizens' booths.  He entertained himself instead by shouting at anyone who put their bags on the ground while they waited.  We were too frightened by what might happen to us if we did not comply to refuse his unreasonable demand.
Soon the citizens' line was nearly empty and and our spirits raised at the thought that the agents in the citizens' booths might soon start to process us.  All of a sudden the two visitors' agents left their booths and disappeared into another room.  As we looked to the uniformed man for an explanation he taunted us by saying they'd finished their shifts and we would have to wait here all night now.  We refused to believe his taunts but then we looked over to the citizens' line, which had now filled with new arrivals from another flight.  As they began to go to the agents in their booths, a man in our line could restrain himself no longer and called out, "That is not fair.  We have been waiting for a long time and they have just arrived.  We do not treat visitors like this in my country."  As we all murmured our agreement, a woman working for our airline suddenly began directing those of us at the front of our line to go to agents in the citizens' booths, alternating with the newly arrived passengers.  The agents in the booths did not object.  The uniformed man disappeared.  The woman from our airline gestured for us to move as quickly as possible.  She told us another flight was coming and we would have to move back to stand in front of the empty visitors' booths once those passengers reached the immigration hall.
Before this happened we reached an agent in his booth.  He did not welcome us to the U.S.  He did not apologize for our wait.  He processed Tanya and the girls, as U.S. citizens, in a minute or so.  It took a while longer to fingerprint me and take my photo.  Once processed we asked to speak to a supervisor.  One came and we described our experience to him.  He did not appear to hear us, however.  He told us he allocates an equal number of his agents to the citizen and visitor lines.  He did not wish to discuss with us that today the numbers were unequal.  He was unmoved that all the U.S. citizens and residents from our flight had been processed within 20 minutes while nearly two hours later there were still visitors from our flight who had not been processed.  He told us he had no responsibility for the uniformed man at the front of the lines.  He aggressively told us that budget cuts meant that he did not have as many agents as he would like.  He did not apologize for our wait.  He did not welcome us to the U.S.

Onwards to Guatemala

From Iain: We've spent the last few days making our way from one continent to another to begin the Guatemala portion of our trip.  We left our Pisac home of three months on a bus driven by a crazed driver up to Cusco at an unfathomable speed.  We then spent a pleasant day wandering around a few museums in Cusco, none particularly worth writing home about, however.  The highlight of the day was an evening performance of Andean dance and music that we attended.
The next day we got a flight to Lima - just over an hour crossing the Andes.  Once there we were picked up by a taxi arranged by our hospedaje for two nights, the B&B Tradiciones in Miraflores.  With everyone feeling a little fatigued by the activities of the last week we decided to simply visit a single museum during our time in Lima.  We settled on the Museo de la Nacion, which turned out to be a good choice as it was interesting and informative without being overwhelming.  There was a photo exhibit on Machu Picchu, a good display covering the history of Peru, a couple of more in-depth displays on an archaeological site in Peru and the extensive road system constructed by the Inca, and, finally, a photo exhibit on the internal conflict of the 1980s and 1990s (the girls did not view this last exhibit).  I don't have too many photos from our time in Lima, but here's one from inside the Museo de la Nacion:

Museo de la Nacion, Lima

We left Lima yesterday on a flight to Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  The less said about the day the better, since it ended up being one of those grueling travel days when just about everything seems to go wrong: a late taxi, check-in problems, boarding delays while everyone was searched, a humiliating hour-and-a-half wait in the visitors line at U.S. immigration while 10 agents processed U.S. citizens and residents each in well under a minute, while 2 agents processed visitors, each taking upwards of 5 minutes each while we were fingerprinted and had our photos taken.  We finally got to our hotel and made the best of it by having a late night swim in the pool and two large decadent pizzas delivered to our room.
Today we had a much better travel day (why is it so much more pleasant these days to leave the U.S. by plane than to arrive in the U.S. by plane?) and a much more positive welcome when we arrived at Guatemala City.  We whizzed though immigration and customs in a jiffy and were then driven at high speed to our hotel in Antigua, Posada Dona Luisa, where we are all now, very tired indeed ...