Hola from Antigua, Guatemala

I walked out of the airport on Tuesday at 6 a.m. to throngs of screaming fans welcoming me to Central America. I guess the Embassy must have sent them an email that 1. I was coming and 2. I needed a ride to Antigua from the Guatemala City airport. Not only were the crowds singing my praises at the airport exit, but they had some homemade signs that read ´shuttle´, ´taxi´ and ´We love you Julie´. Ok, I might be embellishing on that last one... might.

My hostel was meant to send a shuttle that never showed up, so in a daze I latched onto another American girl headed my way. Together, we let the bidding begin. It must have been a combination of scrunched eyebrows, head shaking and a lot of walking around in circles with bewilderment that dropped the asking price from $17 to $10. It certainly wasn´t my Italian. All that got me was a blank stare. And lots of silence. Lots.

We arrived in Antigua, Guatemala´s old colonial capitol and a very, very pretty city. The streets are lined with cobblestone and the one-story concrete walls are as colorful as a Mayan dress. The city is beautiful, but small. I think my first day I walked from one corner to the other in about an hour. You should see Central Park! It´s the size of an actual city block! A small city, granted.

The real attraction is the location. Each morning I´ve been here, I´ve had breakfast with black cinder cone volcanoes collared with meringue clouds, offset by a cobalt sky and lush green hillsides. I could think of worse places to have an egg. But don´t go thinking everything is unicorns and glitter! It rains. Everyday. Around 1 p.m. Everyday. And it doesn´t stop until after dinner. This isn´t the drizzle and rusty tan type climate I was bred in. I´m talking torrential downpours, flash floods, Armageddon! Did I mention the every day thing?

I´m so over the rain. And it´s only Day 5!

The highlight of the week was a hike up one of the fuming cinder cones, Volcan Pacaya. Climbing over ragged crags of molten lava with steam rising through the scorching haze during a lightning and thunderstorm is not as exciting as one might imagine. In fact, it only becomes fun when there´s food involved. So my tour group of complete randoms was smart enough to bring along marshmallows for roasting over the hot spots on our trail. They did not, however, have the foresight to bring graham crackers and chocolate to make it a real party. But one keen woman brought a frying pan and an egg to cook for dinner. Such prescience.

Oh the lava. Lava! I have been waiting so long to see red bubbly lava in its red bubbly form! We didn´t, um, hike up to the caldera of the volcano. That would have been like, dangerous, obviously. So the lava we did see wasn´t the most thrilling. It wasn´t flowing anywhere. It didn´t glob or flame or spit or even singe my sneaker. It was just complacent, sitting there under black caves of its former self, letting everyone take its picture and looking smug. There were even stray dogs laying on the trail, warming themselves in the haze. Unfortunately, Guatemala is not a place for dog lovers... most I´ve seen are strays, starving and mistreated. :(

The trip up Pacaya was more fun than the trip down, thanks to two girls from Holland who would just NOT stop trying to light their cigarette in the lava an consequently wasted so much time that we had to climb back down in the dark. Ay, Nederlanders. If I have not already mentioned the rain, I would like to do so again at this point for added effect. Rain. Dark. Volcano. Holland.

Other things I have been doing to entertain myself: I have now completed two days of Spanish classes. This does not qualify me to say anything remotely comprehendible, but I think my trip back to the airport will be easier.



I´ve also had lunch and dinner everyday with Veronica, my college roommate, who is doing an internship here in Antigua. Today I´m leaving for Lake Atitlan, reputed home to many an ex-pat pothead and the kind of people who live in Eugene. I´m hoping to do a little ´chillaxin´. What, you ask? According to an Israeli in my dorm named Roy, chillaxin is an American term (?), combining the art of chilling with relaxing. Chillaxin. I know, it sounds like a pill for hemorrhoids. But it´s catching on, just you wait for Obama to use it in a speech.

More adventures to come!