el sábado

After two days of field visits at our site in Quetzaltenango - widely known as Xela, the abbreviation of its original K'iche' name - I was left to my own devices and flying solo in the Western Highlands for the weekend.

Xela and Antigua are the Guatemalan meccas of Spanish-language schools and foreigners flock here to learn from the Guatemalans, who apparently speak the Midwestern equivalent of Spanish: slow, clear and with a neutral accent. But instead of partying with the hordes of 20-something gringos on Friday night, I opted for a quiet evening with my Kindle and The Professor and the Housekeeper. As my newly-engaged and thereby automatically wiser friend Jinna put it, on some nights, I'm not just getting too old for partying; I've been too old.

The agenda for Saturday was:
- a visit to a glassblowing cooperative in the nearby pueblo of Cantel
- an afternoon dip in the hot springs at Fuentes Georginas

cantel, guatemala | august 2011

fuentes georginas | august 2011

All day, I couldn't wipe the silly grin off my face. Not when I was the only gringa squeezed into a gutted passenger van with 25 other people. Not when I was noticeably the tallest person on a "chicken" bus with over 100 indigenous Guatemalans sitting 4 (or 6) deep on each bench. (I love feeling not-height-challenged here!) Not even when the cooperativo wasn't running tours due to an electricity outage.

Instead, I found myself focusing on my senses. The bright colors and designs of the indigenous textiles. The smell of the noxious fumes and emissions from ancient vehicles. The cries of the chubby-faced babies. The lyricism of Spanish interspersed with local indigenous languages. The pleasant mountain breeze against my bare cheek.

At this altitude (2,400 m/8,000 ft), the sky appeared blindingly bright blue, punctuated by giant wispy clouds, and there was a refreshing crispness in the air. I can confidently report that I am not missing the suffocating heat and humidity of an ATL summer.

zunil, guatemala | august 2011 

xela, guatemala | august 2011

Twas a great Saturday.

The end.

ps. Sunday was not so great. Motion sickness + bad food = projectile vomit x 2. Let's just say it was a lovely 5-hour bus ride back to Guatemala City.