Earthquakes and Eruptions and Cyclones, oh my

Starting out with a nice picture of the valley just outside of Antigua, I took this picture while on top of Pacaya. It has been a busy few weeks here in Antigua, Guatmala. Kyra joined me a week ago, we have been going to Spanish classes together (together in the sense of in the same school, since all lessons are one on one and her level is still quite a bit higher than mine). It is wonderful having Kyra here, she is always fun to be with, except that all of the male 20 somethings are vying for her attention, and I have to keep reminding them that she is my daughter and how embarrasing it would be for them to have a 52 year old man kick the @$*%! out of them. My Spanish is moving at a snails pace, some days seems better, some days even worse. My teacher keeps trying to convince me that the process is altibajo (up and down), but I still think I'm liguistically retrasado (delayed, retarded). I am out of the house and living in the student housing with Kyra, these two Mayan women cook our meals, if they stood on each others shoulders, they would barely be as tall as I am, but they make the best pancakes in the world.

Kyra and I were watching a movie at the school in the afternoon on the El Salvador civil war when we experienced a 3.4 temblor (tremor, or mini-earthquake). Immediately after the tremor, there was a sudden loud part in the movie, and we both shot three feet out of our seats. The locals tell us that they get as many as 10 tremors a year like that one, but it was the first time I've ever experienced one.

But wait, there's more.

Evidently, the tremor triggered an eruption of Pacaya, the very volcano I climbed two weeks ago (see previous post), sending rocks and ash flying all over the place, killing a reporter, and as many as 3 other people who are still missing. The black ash blanketed Guatemala City and has closed down the airport for the last 4 days. I have here a video link that was taken just a minute or two after I moved out from under the flow that I was standing under in the previous post. Just click on it, it is only a minute long, and it gives you a sense of how active the volcano is right now: http://www.flipshare.com/ViewReshare.aspx?i=8f4c1d4b-5221-44a4-92e4-1e2e07672307&s=14107403&emt=b871045f-96e6-468c-bca5-724a29301965&locale=en-US&senderLocale=en-US

But wait, there is still more. If you order now, we will throw in a free cyclone with the earthquake and eruption!

Thats right, we have a cyclone (hurricane, only on the Pacific side rather than the Atlantic) that is pounding us as I write this, with as much as 50 cm (20 inches) of rain expected in the next 2-3 days. That is more than 2 years worth of rain in Albuquerque! We were going to go to Lago Atitlan this weekend, but the threat of mudslides is too great to be traveling right now. Our little house is springing leaks left and right, the streets are ankle deep rivers, it has gotten so bad I went so far as to buy an umbrella! Right now it is raining so hard that it is nearly impossible to carry on a conversation indoors. The good news is that all of this has been great for my Spanish, how else would I have learned the word for earthquake (terremotto), flood (inundacion), landslide (derrumbe). Anyway, before all this started, Kyra and I went for a walk and found this family doing a street performance.

The immediate future is going to see Kyra and I taking classes and awaiting the arrivel of Deborah and Elise in less than 2 weeks! That is if the world is still here as we know it.

Back to School

I felt that my Spanish was stagnant and that I needed to do something to take it to the next level, por eso, I flew to Antigua, Guatemala last week where I am attending (intensive) Spanish classes M-F from 8 to 3 and staying with a local Guatmalan family.
First, the family. I am staying in the front of their house with the grandparents, Alicia and Raphael. They are in their 80’s, but their health still appears to be good (a rarity here). I share a bathroom with them and at least 2 other family members (quite frankly, I'm not sure how many people live in the house or that I share a bathroom with). The house is typical of houses in Latin America in that at least three generations of the family are living in a sprawling house that was built a room at a time as needed. My bedroom is just that, a bed in a room. There is a single bare foco (bulb) dangling from the ceiling which offers just enough light to read at night. I feed the mosquitoes throughout the night since the room lacks a mosquitero (mosquito net) and is too hot to keep the windows closed. One of the daughters, Maria, cooks me my meals. So far, they have been simple, but good. There is a pet loro (parrot) named Pancho (of course), who starts talking to himself about six in the morning. He asks himself questions and answers them himself. I think I might be joining him soon. The good news is that he speaks Spanish, and since he says the same thing over and over again, I'm able to understand him. Spanish here is somewhat different, the accent, the rhythm, the vocabulary, but I’m already getting used to it. They are having more problems with my accent then the folks did in Mexico, I figure my accent is a cross between gringo and Mexican. I’m sure it will morph soon into a mezcla of all three, gringo, Mexican, and Guatemalan, and then no one will be able to understand me. Should be fun. Actually, folks here are much more accustomed to gringos and Europeos who don't speak Spanish well, so they know how to slow things down a bit without talking to you like you were 5 years old. This was not the case in Campeche, folks there weren't used to non-Spanish speakers, and since none of them spoke a second language, they weren't sure how to deal with me. They tended to either talk way to fast, or dumb it down too much.
The school, Sevilla de Antigua, is simple, but thankfully they have wireless internet, so I can communicate with my family. My cell phone, of course, doesn’t work here. The school is only a few blocks away from my house, so it is an easy Trek.
Antigua is still a pueblo. Deb and came here some 23 years ago, the summer before we got married. It has easy access to several big volcanoes to climb. I remember when Deb and I climbed Acatenango (13,045 feet), we got to the top of the mountain, it was freezing cold and raining hard. We crowded into a cinderblock shack (about the size of an average bathroom) with at least 20 other people to spend the night. The sardine analogy was perfect because, since the floor had 2 inches of standing water in it and the roof leaked, we were packed in water. All the while we were being asphyxiated by the gases coming from the crater not 200 yards away. Good times. Thinking back on that night makes me feel a little better about my accommodations here.
Antigua is still beautiful, suprisingly, it hasn't changed that much in 23 years. It is Spanish colonial with a smatering of ruins left standing after a devastating earthquake in 1773. The center plaza is filled with people all day and into the night, it is the center of the social scene, not unlike Campeche, and, doubtless, the vast majority of Hispanic towns. The place is crawling with anglos, mostly Europeos, who are either here to go to one of the dozens of Spanish schools, or simply traveling the area. The locals seem to take it all in stride, so far I haven't noticed the resentment in their eyes one often sees in touristy areas. In general, Guatemaltecos are friendly and laid back. The town itself is pretty safe, in sharp contrast to its bigger, dangerous neighbor 30 miles to the north, Guatemala City.
I have enclosed a picture of the Inglesia San Francisco de Asis with Volcán de Agua in the background (12, 356 feet).
Maria's brother, Freddy also lives with us, he is quite the artist, he took me on a tour of his works, which are hanging in the local churches and museums. He is sordo (deaf), (so is Maria), and he told me that he is able to paint well because his mind isn't constantly cluttered with noise. He can simply immerse himself in his work. I have enclosed a picture of him at the Inglesia San Francisco de Asis with one of his nicer pieces behind him. He has pieces all over the world, he paints religious themes, which he says are easier to sell, but he also does modern art.

When he first told me he was an artist and that he wanted to show me his work, I was afraid I would be put in that awkward position we have all been in where we have to pretend we like something we don't, but, fortunately, his work was excellent. In fact, a good bit of the artesania here is nice, I have a picture of a small artesania mercado with a ruin on the right, and of course, Volcán de Aqua in the background.
Yesterday was Friday, I finished my first week of classes and decided I needed to get out and do something other than study, so I went with a local excursion troupe on an overnight backpacking trip to Pacaya, an incredibly active volcano. It just recently started acting up, with dozens of new flows developing just in the last couple of days. The tour included a hike up in the afternoon where we sat on a ridge line watching the spews of lava erupt from the crater while sipping wine. They then fed us dinner, after which we went right to bed because the next morning they woke us up at 3:30 for a hike to the lava fields. Watching the lava flow down the side of the mountain in the dark was one of the coolest thing I've done in a long time. The picture below was taken as the sun was rising over Pacaya. It is a bit dark, but if you look closely you can see the flows on the lower right.I got within 10 feet of a flow that opened up right before our eyes. When we hiked down to the lava field, the flow you see to my right was just a glow under the rocks. While we watched, the pressure from the lava underneath pushed a large rock out of the way (which was obviously acting as a plug) and lava started flowing out, creeping slowly down the hill. It was so hot where I was standing that I had to move after about a minute. Besides, if I hadn't moved, there is a good chance I wouldn't be here to write this. Two people were killed and another injured on this very lava field not 3 weeks ago. Evidently, a lava flow triggered a land slide that buried them. Anyway, I have to go study for my Spanish class next week, my teacher is quite the task master (all classes are one on one). Class usually consist of 2-3 hours of grammer followed by 2-3 hours of conversation. You would think that I would be near fluent by now, but alas..... however, I guess I can call myself conversant, and if I keep this up for the rest of my time here (9 weeks), I might even make the distinction of bilingual. Anyway, ouch, my brain hurts after class each day. My daughter Kyra will be joining me for classes at the end of next week, and three weeks later, the rest of my family will join us. I will keep you up on the details and let you all know about future adventures as soon as they happen, Hasta luego!

Tulum and Tummy Troubles

I hadn’t left Campeche on my own since I’ve been here, (3 ½ months) so I decided it was time to go for an adventure by myself. There was another Puente (of course) for Cinco de Mayo, so I jumped on a 9 hour night bus to Tulum. Tulum is a modest ruin by Yucatan standards, but it sits on the cliffs overlooking those magical beaches on the Caribe side, which makes it a must see. I met a Morman guy on the bus to the ruins, and we decided to walk the ruins together. He had just finished his 2 year missionary work in Guatemala and was knocking around Mexico on his way back home. When we were up on a cliff overlooking the ruins, we saw this great little inlet of beach and decided to climb down the rock face for a swim. While we were body surfing in the choppy waters, this official-looking guy started screaming at us to get out of the water. At first I thought he might be telling us there were sharks in the water, but, after seeing no evidence of a dorsal fin, I realized that the beach we were on was cordoned off from the ruins and was off limits. It was probably the first bad thing that young Morman man has ever done in his life. (Mom always said I was a bad influence). I took this picture right before the felony was committed. Please note that someone was already at the scene of the crime, and note also the iguana enjoying it all in the foreground.I stayed at a youth hostel when I was in Tulum (emphasis on youth), it was cheap, but offered me yet another opportunity to feel even older than I am. Actually, the folks there were incredible, they seemed interested in learning a bit about a 50 something year old who was still willing to travel on the shoestring. I was equally interested in their stories, one woman from California was 3 years into a trek around the world. She started out in Equador teaching English, made her way through South America, then over to Southeast Asian, including Thailand, the Phillipes, Singapore, then over to Canada, down to Central America, finally ending up in Mexico. She told me she had no plans of returning to the U.S. any time soon. Another young man from Canada told me he had been robbed four times during his travels, three times in the U.S alone. I told him we make sport out of robbing Canadians. He seemed to believe me, which explained why he had been robbed 4 times. I shared a taxi with several of them to (yet another) cenote a few miles outside of the pueblo. This one, the gran cenote, was indeed grand. By far the biggest of the five I have been to, one can scuba dive way back into the depths of it, still, I chose the more timid approach and snorkeled around. There is something about diving deep into a dark tunnel that just doesn't resonate with me. Here is a picture of it. While we were there, someone told us there were two other smaller cenotes further back in the jungle. We made our way down a sendero (trail) where we came upon two holes in the ground, the larger of the two no bigger than a patio table, with a ladder descending down about 20 feet to the water level. The water didn't look all that inviting, full of leaves and God only knows what else, but when I stuck my head in the second, smaller cenote, a pair of Turquoise browed Motmots flew out of the hole, sat on a branch nearby and allowed us to marvel in their splendor. Now, I realize that bird watching is one of those things that either appeals to folks a whole lot or not at all, and that the vast majority of folks fall in the second category, but I really love to spot new, colorful birds. All told I have seen close to 50 new species since I've been here. (Steve, if your reading this, you probably will be disappointed with me, I remember you telling me you saw some 150 in Costa Rica in 2 weeks). Here is a picture of a Turquiose browed Motmot (not mine, I didn't have my camera out at the time). I couldn't help noticing the color of the bird's tail in relation to the color of the water in the cenote and the ocean in Tulum. Coincidence? You be the judge.

After two days in Tulum, there wasn't much left to do, so I took a collectivo to Playa del Carmen. Collectivos are mini-vans that are both cheaper and faster than the buses. The only disadvantage to them is they drive like a bat out of a cave (or, more apropos, a Turquiose browed Motmot out of a cenote) and you have to pile your luggage on your lap. I think of all the beach areas I've visited, Playa del Carmen is my favorite. Cancun has bigger waves, Tulum is more layed back, but Playa del Carmen has better coffee than Tulum and is safer and less populated than Cancun. I am going to try to make it over to the island of Cozumel some time in the near future, but not on this trip.

My Spanish is undergoing a little different test, it is always a challenge to change my environment a bit to see if my language skills are sufficient. In the clinic, conversations tend to be similar, and I have gotten used to saying the same things over and over again. Traveling alone, I have to figure out how to say all kinds of different things, such as "Qué sugieres para cenar, mesero?", which translates to "What do you suggest for dinner, waiter?" Had I have asked this, he might have answered "Yo Sugiero que usted come en cualquier lugar pero aquí", which, loosely translated, means, "get out of here now!" Had all of this transpired, I might not have gotten my first case of Montezuma's revenge of the entire trip. I will spare you the details.

More later, amigos!