Okay, I am sorry, I am obviously not a blogger by nature. I didn’t succumb to the food poisoning, as many of you might suspect. No, I just started working at a couple of jobs in Antigua: bartending and working at a hostel, and didn’t have much spare time. I spent almost 4 lovely months there, constantly meeting new people at the hostel and enjoying a very high culinary standard, before moving on to revisit Honduras. After being chased out by a horse (see below), I am finally coming home. See you all in a week!

I got hit by a runaway horse about a week ago.
I got to spend a night in a posh honduran hospital: extremely modern and clean, I got a private room with cable, and there was a little mall downstairs with a salon and newspaper stand and espresso bar.

I was walking along the side of the street (no sidewalk), heard a horse, realized it was really close, heard someone yell, realized it was going to hit me, and then I don´t remember anything for an hour, but apparently I flew about 3 meters and landed on my head. I am still a bit shakey, but completely fine, and I have some really cool souvenirs in the form of x-rays and a CAT scan of my head.

After it happened this really nice, wealthy Honduran man took me back to his house, and someone cleaned and bandaged my scrapes, and then he drove me to the hospital in Tegucigalpa. Also, his sister is a doctor, so he called her for advice, and stayed to translate. Everything was fine, and they kept me overnight for observation. I am still pretty sore, and have a bit of a headache, but overall, it could have been much much worse. And my insurance should cover it.

I got my first case of food poisoning this weekend!

I went to back to Copan Ruinas to pick up a lost ATM card, before heading back to Antigua for a spell of hostel and bar work. I was in town for just about 24 hours, but I managed to eat the wrong thing for dinner. Quesadillas with a bit of cabbage and cilantro on the side. Never eat the vegetables. I woke up at about 11pm not feeling so hot. I woke up at 2am vomiting. It was a long night in the hostel bathroom. Luckily my dormmates claim that they slept soundly through it all, and by about 7 in the morning I was able to keep down some ginger ale. I convinced the dorm manager to let me stay an extra hour after checkout, so I got to sleep til 11. Then I hoisted my pack and stumbled over to the shuttle to Antigua, bought a ticket, and promptly collapsed in one of the chairs. Once the shuttle came I rudely stretched out in back seat, forcing all the others in the van to double up in their seating, but luckily it wasn’t that crowded. After sleeping most of the way to Antigua, I dropped my stuff of at the dorm…and went to work! It was supposed to be my first day training at a bartending job at the Monoloco (Crazy Monkey). I tried my best, but the bar manager was very understanding when I only managed to stay about an hour. I have my first real shift today but it should be easy: it’s ladies night, and I am working the ladies bar. Basically just lots of cuba libres, and other mixers.

I am actually going to be busy now, after months of doing whatever I wanted. I am working at the hostel that I am staying at (the Black Cat), which is 6 shifts a week, 4 1/2 hours each shift, and then I work 4 nights a week at the Monoloco. So, basically, my food, lodging, and booze are all paid for, and I am getting some cash from the bar job. If I really get motivated I am going to try to sneak in a few hours of Spanish a day too, but that might be a little ambitious. It will definitely feel good not to have a steady stream of outgoing cash for a while. It is amazing how easy it is to spend and spend and spend.

 Wish me luck tonight.

I felt like I was made miniature, and floating in one of the fish tanks at Dangerhouse. shrimp, anemones, urchins, hermit crabs…Plus a few giant groupers, barracuda and pipefish. Snorkeling was really cool, and definitely made me want to try scuba diving.

Well, the North Coast of Honduras was a bit of a bust. Bad weather, no people, sinister vibe. I spent about three days trying to do something interesting and then gave up and decided just to head straight to Roatán. Luckily I picked a good morning to leave, the sea was calm, and I just sat outside in the back of the boat and basked in the sunshine. Apparently on the boat before and the boat after mine, the crew went around handing out sick bags to everyone. There were only four backpackers on my ferry, and we all ended up in the same hostel: Valerie’s. Cheap, yes. Clean, no. It was disgusting, but since all the other backpackers were there I chose filth over loneliness. The first day there was pretty chill, until about 9pm. Then the guy running the hostel had his “birthday” party (it was unclear if it was actually his birthday, or just the excuse he was using). Lots of people came over, they grilled hamburgers and hotdogs, and then went out for Ladies Night at the local bar. I tagged along for a free drink, but unfortunately Ladies Night ended about the same time they saw four girls all heading into the bar. Apparently they weren’t actually expecting any ladies. I got caught talking to an American bachelor party, and left about as soon as I could extract myself from that conversation. The next morning I was scouting around for a better hotel, and ran into two of the surfers that I hung out with in El Salvador. It felt like seeing old friends again. I spent the rest of the time in Roatán hanging out with them, snorkeling, exploring the island, and watching two people go to 2000 feet in a homemade sub. Check it out at www.stanleysubmarines.com All in all, a good couple of days.

So, through some fortuitous circumstance, I was in Copan Ruinas for Halloween weekend, and all I gotta say is, State Street had nothing on Honduras. Craziness.

Apparently this is the third year in a row that this party–organized by Peace Corps volunteers–has been happening, although I think this year may have been a little better organized than past Halloween’s. It was a spectacle. I think a lot of the “success” of the party comes from the isolation that the PCV’s live in for most of the year, but man, they were ready to party. By 8:30 on Friday they were all hammered, with one guy passed out on the floor. I left early, but when I wandered through the central park the next morning, there was a large group of them standing around, looking really, really hungover. They were all silent, except one girl who had her hand on her stomach and was saying “I really don’t feel good.” Then I realized why they were standing in the square. It was almost time for the hash run–a 5 km run, with a beer stop in the middle. You have to admire the dedication to their drinking.

 I spent a while getting my substitute teacher costume together, and it looked pretty good. Paper airplane in the hair and everything. I was staying with some of the teachers from Mayatan, so we went down to the party together. It was stupid crazy. Copan in full force. The costumes looked good, my favorite being a giant bottle of Imperial Beer, that reminded me of the Duff beer from the Simpsons. At midnight there was a parade to the afterhours bar, where things continued in the same vein. I think that every single gringo in Copan was hungover on Sunday, and the Evangelicals had held a vigil the night before, praying for our souls.

Sunday I skipped all the events, although apparently they included drinking at a pig roast in the afternoon, and then drinking some more while ostensibly watching the football game. Apparently the last partiers quit at 2am.  I managed to have a decent conversation with two of the PCV’s in the dorm room, and went to bed at 9:30.

No personal emails right now…I have a huge backlog to report on, but I will try my best to get everything current by the time I leave the internet cafe today.

 So, We left Xela two weeks ago today. We traveled straight through to Guate, managed to change buses after trying three different bus stations in the city looking for the right terminal. We felt like lambs among the wolves, dragging ou backpacks on the public buses and asking random strangers for diections, but eventually we got on the right bus without incident. We finally got to Coban without incident, and found a room in a bed and breakfast run by a father and son from Portland, OR. They were really helpful, and gave us directions to the mall so I could buy a new bathing suit before we got to Semuc Champey. We ended up spending our Friday night at the mall. I got a decent bathing suit for $10, and we got a good dinner at the Food Court: some kind of Mexican fast food chain, and then we checked our email. As I was paying for the internet I realized that my wallet was gone and I realized I must have forgotten it when I went to pay for the bathing suit. The shop was already closed for the night, so I had to wait until the morning to find out if the clerk found it or not. After a long, worrisome night, I ran back to the mall at 8:30 the next morning, and sat in front of the store waiting for the clerk to come open. When she finally got there I rushed up to her, explaining that I forgot my wallet. She started talking about how maybe it fell to the floor and some kid found it, my stomach sank as I realized what a pain this was going to be: to cancel my cards, and figure out how to get new cards send out, not to mention any charges that had already been made. Then the clerk flipped over her notebook, and underneath it was the wallet! It turns out that she had been explaining how the wallet had fallen under the counter, and the little boy of the other clerk found it when they were closing the shop. I was so happy I gave her a 100Q as a reward, a little over the top, but it was the only bill I had in my wallet.

Wallet issue solved, we headed to Semuc Champey. We got there late so we had the pools to ourselves. Semuc Champey is a natural geological formation with a natural bridge and falls that form these beautiful natural pools that you are allowed to swim in. It is amazing the things that you are allowed to do in Guatemala that would just never be allowed in the States.

That night there was a marimba band at the lodge where we were staying, and I met a group of Peace Corps volunteers who are all stationed in Guatemala. It was interesting to hang out with a group of Americans for a change, and they were really friendly, offering me a place to stay with them if I am traveling around.

The next day we went back to this famed Lodge in Lanquin called El Retiro. It is where everybody stays when they go to Lanquin and a great place to meet people. I ended up meeting these two guys who wanted to spend a night in Guatemala City, just to check it out. I hadn’t met anyone else who was interested in staying in Guate, so I decided to go with them.  That meant turning around, and going back the way I came the very next morning.

Guate was a trip. We came in through the bad side of town, so the guys were getting pretty nervous. I had seen the good side coming from Xela, so I reassured them that everything would be okay. We took a cab to the place I picked out of the guidebook: it had sounded nice, but not too expensive. The cab drops us off in front of this ultra modern, minimalist hotel, think Mercer Hotel in SoHo. We stand in the lobby feeling really out of place with our dirty clothes and mochillas (backpacks), the hostess was very courteous, but they didn´t have a triple, and two doubles would have been more than we wanted to spend. We ended up at a nice, but much more down to earth place with free breakfast.  We tried to go out that night, but the city was absolutely dead. According to one bartender, Monday is the one day that everybody stays in. Oh well, it was still cool to see the contrast of this big, modern city in comparison to the rest of Guatemala.

After our night in Guate, we headed to Antigua as a staging ground for the next adventure. One of the guys was going to see Antigua for a couple days, and then head to San Pedro on Lake Atitlan, and the other guy was going to the Pacific Coast to do some surfing. I was without a plan, so I decided to tag along to see the ocean, and do some beach bumming.

The first stop was a surf camp near Sipacate. Despite the burning hot sand, cold showers, expensive prices, and a bedbug experience, it was pretty fun. There were two other guys staying there too, and it was a good group to hangout with. I tried to surf, but the waves weren’t vey good, and I wasn’t very inspired. I mostly just stuck to splashing around in the water, and then reading my book in the hammock. One night we got to see a batch of just-hatched baby turtles released into the ocean, and we played a lot of cards.

After surf camp we head to the resort town of Monterrico, where the locals come to play on the weekend. It was fun to see, but we were both low on money, and there were no ATMs, so we were living pretty frugal.

 And now…El Salvador. We crossed, finally, on Monday. The guy I am travelling with had some problems with his Guatemalan stamp, so we had to go back to Guatemala to straighten it out, which happened only after we waited around for about three hours and he paid the official $10.  But finally, El Zonte. We are staying with the nicest family in the world. The mom, Marta, lays in her hammock all day, and it is a ongoing joke that it is her “office,” and she is always working. There is a pool that I use about 3-5 times a day, and yesterday the whole family joined me, the youngest girls all calling out “Julia, tu puedes, tu puedes,” which is a game where we take turns doing stunts to see if the other person can match them. It is a really nice chill time.

 Today I am in San Salvador, just running errands and getting more money, and after…I’ll keep you posted.

The hot water in my shower this morning made my day. The day seems brighter, the people friendlier, and the prospect of a lost swimming suit and towel less upsetting, all because I got to take a warm shower. But I am getting ahead of myself.

 Yesterday, I headed up to Zunil to visit the Fuentas Georginas hot springs.  There were four of us going, and we got out the door of our hostel at 6am to catch a chicken bus headed south. We got there just as one was pulling away, and we hopped on. The bus took us to Zunil in about 20 minutes due to the lack of traffic. We wandered up to the church to catch a pickup that was headed up the mountain towards the hot springs. It was much easier than we thought, since there were a number of pickups just hanging out waiting for tourists. The first guy we met offered 25Q for all of us, one way. This was a great deal, but some of my fellow travellers thought that we could do better. We ended up paying another guy 30Q for the ride, but he also agreed to come back at noon to get us for another 30Q. The pickup ride was an experience, the guy zoomed up the curvy mountain road, the air was freezing, and the sun was barely up. I was luckily up against the back of the cab, but some of the other girls were being tossed from side to side, a fact that the driver seemed to be taking great pleasure from.

When we arrived at the hot springs, there was a big gate in place. It turns out they don’t open until 8am, and we were 40 minutes early. We hung out talking and walking in circles trying to keep warm for a while, and then the caretaker took pity on us and let us in early.  The springs were gorgeous. The hot water dripped off of the rock wall, and into a pool tiled with stones, and punctuated with boulders to laze on. We finally convinced ourselves to strip down to our swimming suits and get into the steamy water. The first steps made my feet tingle with shock, but after being immersed in the water for a while it began to feel almost tepid. We found the hot spots in the pool, and took turns sitting in a little chair shaped hollow where the warm water dripped down on our heads. After an hour of this we were all famished, and kept casting glances at the pool side restaurant.

The restaurant finally opened at 9, and we clambered out of the pool, into our clothes and into the restaurant as fast as we could. The air was still freezing, as the pool is nestled into a hollow on the north side of the mountain, and never gets direct sunlight. The food was good though. I had my standard huevos rancheros and tortillas, and cafe con leche. One girl got the hot chocolate, and it was so thick her spoon could practically stand up in the liquid. It was good, although so rich we could only stand a sip or two.

As we finished our breakfast, two more tourists showed up, then three more, and then two locals. The pool was big, and we had enjoyed several hours of solitude in it, so we didn´t mind sharing. We met some of the other tourists and lolled around, turning into prunes. At around 11 this big group of Mayans showed up, and kids started running around with water wings, and balls. I took that as my cue to get cleaned up. It was fun to watch the chaos, and I hung my suit and towel out to dry. Eventually my group headed down to the parking lot to wait for the driver. I put my suit and towel down to take some pictures and never picked them up again. The driver came, we went back to Zunil, checked out the church, got on the wrong chicken bus back to Xela, and got dropped of at the bus station on the far side of town. That’s when I realized I had forgotten my bathing suit. We were right by the brand spanking new mall, so one girl and I went to check out the bathing suit selection there. It was kind of fun to look around the mall actually, since it is definitely not a tourist hangout. I got to practice my Spanish a little with one of the clerks. The bathing suit selection was grim, but true to form, I bought a pair of shoes.

 We got back to the center, and I brooded over my suit for awhile (I really liked that one), before going out for a beer. I also managed to talk with some other Israeli girls who are headed out to the hot springs today, so I asked them to inquire about my suit. I did try to call, but they just said, ”we’ll look, call back tomorrow,” which usually means ”fat chance.”

But today…today I had a hot shower, I had a cup of free coffee in the kitchen of the hostel, and I cut about 6 inches off of my travelling companion’s hair. Today has been a good day. So I will let the bathing suit go, and enjoy my day of running around doing errands, because tomorrow is a travel day, all the way from Xela to Guate and up to Cobán.

Check out the new photos (totally out of order, unfortunately) at http://www1.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=57432674/a=73094751_73094751/t_=73094751 

Apparently everyone stays longer than they intended in San Pedro, but I finally made it to Xela yesterday. I had originally planned on leaving Sunday, but then I found out that none of the buses run direct on the weekend, so I decided to wait one more day for the ease of the ride. I might not have even left Monday, but I have a tentative job lined up at one of the restaurants in San Pedro and it starts in a month, so I want to get out and see some more of the country before I get sucked back in.

 Since I had one more day in San Pedro, I went to Santiago to see Maxímon, the “evil” saint. It was interesting, but felt mainly like a tourist trap, and maybe not worth the 4 dollars to take the boat there and back. I didn’t really like Santiago much at all. Lots of desparate people trying to make money off of tourists and mangy looking dogs fighting in the street.

 So Monday my travelling companions and I met early to catch the bus to Xela. It was supposed to be a 2 hour drive, but due to major road construction it ended up taking about 3 hours. We got into the chaotic bus station/market on the west side of town, transferred to a “microbus” (picture 12 people, including the three of us with all of our luggage, crammed into a minivan) to go downtown. It was actually a lot easier than I thought it would be, and the bus only cost a queztal ($0.15) each. We found a hotel, exchanged some money, ate lunch, explored, and then went out for a drink downtown. This town is a lot less touristy than Antigua or San Pedro, which was most evident at the bar, supposedly a travellers hangout, but almost everyone there was local. I think that I like this town.

 Today we got up early and took a chicken bus to the outskirts of town to find Los Vahos, a natural steam bath. It was a little further hike up the mountain than we thought, but the view was amazing. When we first arrived we were a little disappointed by the lack of pools-this place is sauna only-but after half an hour of relaxing in the warm, eucalyptus-scented air, we agreed that we hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time. The walk down the mountain was a lot easier.

Then we checked out the natural history museum. Some of the Mayan artifacts were cool, but we were both creeped out by the room filled with stuffed animals in various degrees of decay. 

 I am looking forward to a couple more days in Xela, back in the city again. I think that it will be a good chance to practice my spanish a little, and explore less touristy attractions, although I might climb the volcano. It is 5 hours of climbing, but you can see all the way to the Pacific.

 Now, I need to walk around so I can warm up after my “warm” shower. Every hotel says that they have hot water, but I have only taken 2 warm showers since I got here.  

Well, I have been hanging out here in San Pedro for an entire week now. The place is famous for growing its population through attracting travellers who just never leave, but I think that I will gather the strength to leave soon. I might be back though, it seems like a nice place where I could get a job, either teaching English or working in a bar, if my money gets low.

 So, a little bit about the feel of San Pedro: when you walk down the street you are constantly assaulted by girls and old women asking “¿Quieres paaaan?¿Quieres paaaan?” They will ask you if you want bread even if you walked by 2 minutes before and said no. They will you if you want bread if you walk down the street eating chips. They will ask you if you want bread if you walk down the street eating the bread you just bought from THEM! There are also a couple older women who will come into restaurants and ask if you want bread while you are eating your dinner. Apparently these tactics work however illogical they seem.

Most of the women and girls in the town wear the traditional costume, and they look striking as they walk around the town with huge baskets of bread or other things to sell balanced on their heads. Overall though, the feel of the place is a little like a college town. There are tons of travellers here taking a week or two of Spanish, a lot of partying, and quiet people of the town who put up with it because it brings in the revenue.

 San Marcos, to which I took a day trip, is the spiritual detox retreat for San Pedro. It is very quiet, with several theraputic centers that offer yoga, massage, and meditation. It was very tranquilo, as they say here, but the yoga instructor wasn’t there the day that I tried to take a class, so I ended up taking yoga in San Pedro. It wasn’t as calming, with the smell of cooking and the street noises coming in, but I did get to look of over the lake.

 Today is Rosh Hashana, so most of the travellers are going to have dinner at Zoola, an Israeli run restaurant. I was sort of invited, but I think that there will be a lot of people speaking in Hebrew, so I don’t know if I will pay the 60Q just to eat dinner and not understand anyone. I have had a lot of fun meeting people, but I kind of just want to have a nice quiet discussion about books or something. The problem with meeting travellers is who always end up having the same conversation: where are you from, how long are you travelling, where have you been, etc.

 Check out my new photos on Snapfish. Unfortunately I haven´t figured out how to give them individual labels yet, but you will get an idea of the scene.

Check them out on Tabblo.

 http://www.tabblo.com/studio/stories/view/109742/

The guidebook says that Aldous Huxley called this “the most beautiful lake in the world.” I will try to upload some photos today so you can judge for yourself.

We woke up at 6am (again) to get on the 1st class bus to Panajachel, only to arrive and find out that the pullman bus had broken down and we would be riding on one of the converted school buses, called chicken buses, but there would only be two to a seat (as opposed to cramming in as many as possible) and it would go direct to Pana (as opposed to stopping at every small town to pick up even more people along the way). There was at first one exception to the rule. One mayan woman was allowed to share a seat with two other. She chose to sit with me and my seatmate. Lucky us, I whispered under my breath. But as soon as we left Antigua, it turned into a full blown chicken bus, making all the stops, and crowding people in the aisle. It was a neat experience, and it actually didn´t take any longer than the 1st rate bus had advertised, so overall it was a win. Also, I am still kicking myself for not buying the papas fritas that one vendor held up at one of the stops. The Guatemalan french fries looked really good, and I haven´t gotten to try them yet.

After we arrived in Pana, we walked down to the dock and got a boat to San Pedro, a resort town on the western side.San Pedro reminds me a lot of Homer, AK. A resort town on the water with a lot of hippies and bohemians, and a lot of people who just never leave. It is also cheap. The hotel I am staying at is right on the water, like with a dock that you can wake up, and go for a swim from. And how much does it cost? $2.50 a night!

 Okay, gotta run again, I am trying to enroll in Spanish classes for Monday.