So, I’ve had a nice weekend. I wish, for the sake of interest, I could say it was a nice weekend enjoying the spectacular scenery and fascinating culture that Guatemala has to offer. Sadly for you, dear reader, I’ve hardly left the house.
Everyone seems to have been away this weekend. My housemates are, as I write this, on their way back from Antigua Guatemala, the quetzal reserve and a hippy festival at Lake Attitlan. I was invited to the festival, but the thought of a ten hour round trip simply to come back smelling of Patchouli wasn’t too appealing. Besides, I had to work on a Saturday and shouting at a corral of ten Korean kids of a morning is my best paid class all week.
So that left me with nothing to do except to tell my housemates that I intended to spend the entire weekend naked, and head to the supermarket in search of steak. “Could you grab some toilet roll while you’re there?” they asked. No problem, I thought. I got in to Paiz (basically Wal-mart) and located the toilet rolls. A big special offer sign grabbed my attention. “I’m in here,” I thought, “Cheap toilet roll and steak, awsomeproso!” Then I looked at the price: 60 quetzales for 12 rolls. That’s about £5! I’m not sure what the going rate for bog roll back at home is, but I’m pretty sure it’s not that much. Even if it is, as a proportion of my earnings it’s huge, I only earn around £500 a month here and I can’t afford to be shelling out that much just for a wipe. It’s not even good quality either, Andrex shits all over it.
The relative cost of things here is mad, anything vaguely western or middle class is hugely expensive, largely as you are also funding the men with shotguns who guard the store and keep most of the local populace out. Being a ‘canche’ has it’s advantages here as you never get challenged going anywhere, as people just assume that you’re rich. Anyway, by way of a comparison, I bought three bags of fairly basic sweets for one of my classes on Friday (due to a foolish bowling bet). They cost me 75Q, about the same amount I’d spent on full, cooked lunches with drink and sometimes dessert in the local eateries that week.
Basically, a lot of things are damned expensive here. I’m keen to buy a laptop as my lesson planning is causing the destruction of great swathes of rainforest, and my room is starting to resemble that of one of those old people they have to dig out of their flats as they’ve kept every newspaper they’ve ever bought. Sadly, the cheapest laptop here new is about 7,000Q. This is once again because of security issues, and the fact that there’s no internet shopping whatsoever here means the prices are prohibitive to say the least. Fortunately, I might have found someone with a laptop to sell for nearer 2,000Q, so that would be nice. It might even mean more regular bog updates. No doubt you’ll be pleased to hear that.
Definitely the most terrifying thing that’s happened to me this weekend involves an encounter with some of the local fauna. Having woken up from a little late afternoon nap, I was sat downstairs doing my Spanish homework. Grappling with relative pronouns, I was distracted by a movement on the floor. Initially I thought it was a cockroach, but looking again I espied a scorpion sauntering toward my flip-flop shod foot. I squealed, and ran upstairs. Scorpions are a bit of a childhood fear: I used to check under my duvet each night after my Dad told me they snuck into England in banana crates. Having calmed down a little bit, I decided it was time to man up and go scorpion hunting. I changed into some more appropriate footwear and crept back downstairs. I armed myself with a Tupperware box and peered into the dining room. The scorpion was sat by a table leg. At this point I should say it was all of an inch and a half long, and probably as scared of me as I was of it. It wasn’t the fleetest either, and sat meekly as I threw the box over it. I considered keeping it, my flatmate Ben would have been very interested in a scorpion, but I decided that I should set the noble beast free. Sliding a folder under the box, I scooped the intruder up and deposited it at the edge of the patio. Hopefully we won’t be seeing it again, as I’m fairly sure Alice would go absolutely spastic if she saw it.
That though, was about as exciting as anything got this weekend. I watched Fracture in Spanish (awful film) and then a bit of Slipstream with Vinnie Jones (even worse) while supping a litre of Clos Cabernet Sauvignon (surprisingly good). I had steak twice and chips once, and of course the obligatory Friday night tacos and beer. If anyone wants to come and see me, it will be worth it just for a trip to the taco stand by the way. I went for a quick potter round the residencia this evening and peered into the barranco, and said good afternoon to the pretty girl cleaning her car, but that’s about as far as my flirting Spanish (or English) extends.
Maybe I’ll do something next weekend. It feels like I should. If I do, I’ll be sure to tell you about it. Hasta la proximo vez. Grev
Showing posts with label tacos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tacos. Show all posts
Monday, March 16, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
My So-Called (Guatemalan) Life Pt. 1
So, I’m yet to really say much about things here. In between bouts of New-York related lexical diahorrea (and some bouts of the more real kind) I’ve been too busy to write much about what I’m actually doing here. Over the next thousand words or so I’ll try to put that right.
I’ve now been here for about two and a half weeks, though it feels quite a lot longer than that. My weeks have taken shape now and its clear that I’m going to be very, very busy over the next year. I did point out to people before I left that I wasn’t going on holiday, but to have to be up before 7am six mornings a week was rather unexpected. I’m up to teaching about 21 hours per week, to a mixture of young and old, Korean and Guatemalteco at the school and at two local companies. Once you factor in lesson planning as well as six hours of Spanish per week, then you can see I have a pretty packed schedule. The good news is that I do really enjoy it. Most of my classes are a joy to teach and we have a great deal of fun. It also means that I’m going to have more disposable income than I’ve ever had, and absolutely no time to spend it. I’m beginning to think that some traveling after this may well be in order.
The school itself is great. A large, cool building set in a tropical looking garden. We get hummingbirds feeding on the flowers just outside the windows I’m looking out of, which was tremendously exciting when I first noticed it. The people here are lovely and we are well looked after. The Spanish speaking receptionists also make sympathetic conversation partners for learners like me.
Similarly, our house is a joy. I live with three other teachers in a terracotta brick house with marble floors. It’s so huge that we don’t use half of downstairs, though this is also partly due to the current lack of furniture. We have a lovely back patio with built in barbeque, ideal for parties for the half of the year when it’s not raining (see photo in previous post). The house is set in a ‘residencia’, a gated community which is staffed by shotgun wielding guards. They are terribly efficient at stopping anyone unless they are ogling a pretty ‘chapina’ walking past, in which case all and sundry are allowed to enter. While I feel slightly guilty about locking myself away from the city, it is a relief when I pass through the gates. Everyone here lives behind some form of security – I’m afraid that it is a necessary evil. Anyway, we do walk to school through the local neighbourhood, which is more than most of our neighbours do.
In terms of going out and doing stuff, I’ve done fairly little here so far. The truth is it’s not very safe to go out after dark, and most of us are too tired after school anyway. We have had one epic night out around ‘Las cien puertas’ (The hundred doors) in Zona 1 but we were chauffered there and back. Our plans to escape the city at weekends have been scuppered by the fact that either myself or one of my housemate’s has been ill almost continuously. I think it’s due to adjusting to the food, and the recent cold snap that saw temperatures fall as low as 13C! I am plotting escapes at the weekends, though having just given most of my cash to Banco America Central only to be told I can’t access it for 8 working days, I may have to put those plans on hold. The good/bad news is there’s no such thing as ‘going to the pub’ here really – the closest we get is strolling to our local taco stand and buying a couple of litres of ‘Gallo’ from the shop next door to drink with our meal. Last time the owner sent his infant son to get our beer for us - I don’t think there’s much in the way of licensing laws here. The food is great here. We buy fresh vegetables on our way home and eat an awful lot of salad (I know, how the carnivorous have fallen) and it’s heartening to know that anything you eat has been picked within a few miles, rather than flown across several oceans and then polished to within an inch of its life. Local comedors (eateries) provide most of our meals out, often eating there is cheaper than cooking yourself - a meal and a drink will set you back no more than 20Q (about $3).
So that’s really it, in a nutshell. I get up at about 5:50am, usually get back about 8pm and go to bed soon after that. I’ve not been shot or stabbed as of yet. As I’ve said before, I think I’m more likely to get run over. Expect news on any adventures soon, hasta pronto!
I’ve now been here for about two and a half weeks, though it feels quite a lot longer than that. My weeks have taken shape now and its clear that I’m going to be very, very busy over the next year. I did point out to people before I left that I wasn’t going on holiday, but to have to be up before 7am six mornings a week was rather unexpected. I’m up to teaching about 21 hours per week, to a mixture of young and old, Korean and Guatemalteco at the school and at two local companies. Once you factor in lesson planning as well as six hours of Spanish per week, then you can see I have a pretty packed schedule. The good news is that I do really enjoy it. Most of my classes are a joy to teach and we have a great deal of fun. It also means that I’m going to have more disposable income than I’ve ever had, and absolutely no time to spend it. I’m beginning to think that some traveling after this may well be in order.
The school itself is great. A large, cool building set in a tropical looking garden. We get hummingbirds feeding on the flowers just outside the windows I’m looking out of, which was tremendously exciting when I first noticed it. The people here are lovely and we are well looked after. The Spanish speaking receptionists also make sympathetic conversation partners for learners like me.
Similarly, our house is a joy. I live with three other teachers in a terracotta brick house with marble floors. It’s so huge that we don’t use half of downstairs, though this is also partly due to the current lack of furniture. We have a lovely back patio with built in barbeque, ideal for parties for the half of the year when it’s not raining (see photo in previous post). The house is set in a ‘residencia’, a gated community which is staffed by shotgun wielding guards. They are terribly efficient at stopping anyone unless they are ogling a pretty ‘chapina’ walking past, in which case all and sundry are allowed to enter. While I feel slightly guilty about locking myself away from the city, it is a relief when I pass through the gates. Everyone here lives behind some form of security – I’m afraid that it is a necessary evil. Anyway, we do walk to school through the local neighbourhood, which is more than most of our neighbours do.
In terms of going out and doing stuff, I’ve done fairly little here so far. The truth is it’s not very safe to go out after dark, and most of us are too tired after school anyway. We have had one epic night out around ‘Las cien puertas’ (The hundred doors) in Zona 1 but we were chauffered there and back. Our plans to escape the city at weekends have been scuppered by the fact that either myself or one of my housemate’s has been ill almost continuously. I think it’s due to adjusting to the food, and the recent cold snap that saw temperatures fall as low as 13C! I am plotting escapes at the weekends, though having just given most of my cash to Banco America Central only to be told I can’t access it for 8 working days, I may have to put those plans on hold. The good/bad news is there’s no such thing as ‘going to the pub’ here really – the closest we get is strolling to our local taco stand and buying a couple of litres of ‘Gallo’ from the shop next door to drink with our meal. Last time the owner sent his infant son to get our beer for us - I don’t think there’s much in the way of licensing laws here. The food is great here. We buy fresh vegetables on our way home and eat an awful lot of salad (I know, how the carnivorous have fallen) and it’s heartening to know that anything you eat has been picked within a few miles, rather than flown across several oceans and then polished to within an inch of its life. Local comedors (eateries) provide most of our meals out, often eating there is cheaper than cooking yourself - a meal and a drink will set you back no more than 20Q (about $3).
So that’s really it, in a nutshell. I get up at about 5:50am, usually get back about 8pm and go to bed soon after that. I’ve not been shot or stabbed as of yet. As I’ve said before, I think I’m more likely to get run over. Expect news on any adventures soon, hasta pronto!
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