Doña Chula

Even before setting foot in Guatemala I had thoughts of spending my days in Central America with a dog at my side. Having grown up with the most incredible dog in the world (RIP Snoopy), I was eager after a long hiatus from pet-ownership to get back on the wagon. Figuring I'd have a bit more extra time on my hands in a new country before knowing the lay of the land, I figured a new pup would be the perfect companion to explore my new life and country together.

Casually strolling down the main street that runs along the west end of Antigua, Avenida Santa Lucia, I stumbled across a pet store one day. Otherwise easy to miss among the other knick-knack stores and cafes along the street, this tienda jumped out at me as 3 cages of puppies were prominently displayed in the door way making it nearly impossible to ignore the tiny critters cuddling up among each other and competing for attention from passersby.

Here I spotted a a 4 month old dachshund that reminded me of my loving Snoopy were it not for her brown/red coat (where as Snoop Dogg sported the black and tan look). I affectionately named her Maní (peanut) and visited her nearly every day over the course of 2 weeks hoping I'd soon save up the money and buy her love.

Maní

Well this story doesn't have much of a happy ending for Maní, at least that I know of. As it would turn out another perrita would storm her way into my heart.

As I made my way early one Saturday morning on a walk to the vista overlooking the city of Antigua, I came across a neighbor holding a puppy that caught my eye. I felt particularly social that morning and decided to chat the man up to know more about his puppy and steal a pet or two. As you would have it, the man tells me he is selling said puppy as well as 2 others. After showing off his lot to me and some jabs from his friends ("This one looks like the daddy! (points to man selling the puppy), I decided I was in the market for a puppy. After the man told me the price, I was definitely in the market for a new puppy.

Chula

The price of a value meal at McDonald's. Yes, that is how much I paid for this precious perrita. Count it: $3 dollars. I couldn't help but evaluate every purchase I made for the next few days: "A liter of beer in town Saturday night...that cost me 2 Chulas," "The bag of dog food that weighs as much as the dog itself...that will be 1.5 Chulas," or  "Three cans of Mt. Dew from the local importer...that will be 1 Chula."

Given her name means cute, adorable, pretty I think we can all agree I got a bargain of a deal.

Real Building

A week or two ago I was fortunate enough to go out into “the field” to take part in a Habitat build with one of our volunteer groups. For those of you who have been curious to know a bit more about the building process and what I do for Habitat for Humanity, your wait is over!

In a nutshell (and in a perfect world) the process is quite simple:

1) A team decides it wants to partake in a Habitat building activity in Guatemala. Teams can be young, old, mixed, youth groups, school trips, previous volunteers who want to return as a leader of their own group, etc. The sky is the limit pretty much.

2

      2) The team leader is put in touch with our office here in Guatemala and when we find a date and location that fit the team they have the great pleasure of working with me. I help organize/coordinate their work/travel itinerary, budget for paying for this awesome trip they are about to embark on, hotel arrangements, transport, etc.

      3) The team arrives in country ready to rock ‘n roll and one of our Field Coordinators joins them out into the field to accompany them on their trip/build. Traditionally I don’t partake in this part, but rather pass them on to another Habitat member who reaps the benefits of living like a Rock Star out on the road.

(Worksite, notice the beefcake in green surveying the land)

(Laying brick on a traditional Habitat House)

Anyhow, this past week we had a particularly large group come to Guatemala to partake in a build out in Zacapa, a municipality out in the eastern part of Guatemala near the Honduran border locally renowned for their particularly tasty hard dry cheese and hand crafted cigars. While I didn't have the pleasure in partaking in either, or seeing much beyond our hotel and the work site for that matter, my lasting memory of Zacapa was the heat. However, I had a great time getting out into the field with my first Habitat group and getting my hands dirty as I took part each day in doing some building. Unfortunately, I had a bad spill one day running around the hotel pool, another incident fording a local river which nearly knocked out my digital camera for good, and my work phone didn’t make it out of the town alive, but all in all it was a great experience. 

(Nearly finished Habitat House)

("Cultural Night" @ the hotel in Zacapa)

(Zacapa morning commute)

Go With Christ

I was a bit surprised to read that Guatemala is only roughly 50-60% self-identified as Catholic. Of course, who knows how accurate this number is, but I tend to trust Wikipedia more than I trust even myself, so we'll assume that figure is at least in the right ballpark. Anyhow, even though the country has a lower Catholic population than neighboring Mexico, there is no shortage of religious pride here.

Without digging too much into the how or why the people believe in what they do, I'd like to just share a slice of this pride for those who haven't seen, or might not know what I mean, when I mention "religion in Central America." Certainly, there are many other practices outside of christianity/Catholicism, but the latter is something that enters your life on a daily basis here whether you want it to or not.

Sign on a boat reminding me that Jesus Christ is the only path

Gentle reminder that after death comes The Judgement

It seems the Chicken Bus is the preferred canvas for displaying one's piety and devotion to El Señor.

(The quick skinny on Chicken Buses: they're old, Blue Bird school buses that made their way down to Guatemala from the US after being deemed too old, too unsafe, pollute too much, etc for use by our precious gringo children back home in the States. These are more often than not packed at least 3 to a seat with people filling the aisles as well. The only rule there seems to be on the Chicken Bus is there is always enough space for another passenger despite the fact that you're nearly sitting on a stranger's lap.)

Anyhow, there seem to be 3 unspoken mandates here in Guatemala regarding the decor for Chicken Buses. They must follow 1 or all of the following 3 themes:

1. Expressing your love for a woman in your life
2. Expressing your devotion for Jesus Christ/God/El Señor
3. Use of children's cartoon characters

Not the best shot, but this bus is named after Geraldine (presumably the driver's lover)

My God is real/kingly (I guess YOURS is not...)

Dashboard Jesus

Good shot of all 3 (Cartoons, "May God bless Fernandita," and "Sexy girl")

And of course we can't forget our friends next door, El Salvador. Afterall, the country is named after our Savior. Sitting down for breakfast the other weekend, I reached for a napkin to wipe the greasy remnants of my delicious morning quesadilla from my mouth and I was reminded that while I may lack many things in life, God is not one of them. Phew!

#1 American Sports Fans

People watching in undoubtedly one of the finest and most entertaining ways to pass the time no matter where you might be in the world. I particularly find it even more entertaining while among a foreign land, culture, and people. The X-Factor that is a foreign land really brings about some gems to the well-trained American eye.

Each person-watcher has their own taste and items that call their attention, but what particularly floats my boat is finding hand-me-down American sports apparel among a land far removed from the NBA, NFL, MLB, and NHL. Hell, even the MLS has its niche down here ('Hey Doug, what's MLS?', you ask... Yeah, I forget the great US of A even has a pro-soccer league too. Sorry, Hooper...)

Jaime Moreno (aka greatest MLS player ever)?

Anyhow, I can't help but wonder each time I spot a Guatemalan wearing an old-school Chicago Bulls jersey from the 1990's hey-days, a sweet Starter© Jacket supporting the Carolina Panthers, or a nice Boston Bruins sweater, if this was a well sought out item that they just had to have or (and more likely) if this was something they found at the local thrift store that fit the bill for the day. I've come to conclude the latter and let me share with you the moment that this became painfully clear.

Walking down the street the other day I passed a 14 year old boy wearing a real sharp LA Sparks t-shirt. Yes, you read correctly.....a WNBA t-shirt on a 14 year old boy. Although I'm as big of a fan of the color purple as Prince (THE man), something tells me that no 14 year old boy in the whole world would consciously pick up a WNBA t-shirt at the store one day and sport that thing around town looking for high-fives from all his buddies at school. If I were to break the news to that kid right then and there on the street that he was wearing a WNBA shirt he: 1) would have been utterly confused as even most Americans probably think that league went under years ago (at least I did), and 2) would have probably taken that thing off right then and there and abandoned it in the street. 

I didn't have the heart at the time to ruin that kid's day, so I refrained. 

Although I have witnessed a lot better apparel while camera-less, I've managed to snap a few goodies. Hopefully, I'll have more updates in the future.

Bend It (Yes, I realize not America...)

Willis lookin' good after that nasty knee injury...

Enter Sand/Mailman

Silly Bird

This past weekend I ventured out to one of Guatemala's fine attractions, which had me on a 3:30 AM shuttle directly west from Antigua to Lake Atitlan. After a friendly 3 hour drive with my friend/driver, Nari, who works for a transportation service that Habitat for Humanity often uses with out volunteer groups, I arrived to Panajanchel, a small town located on the lake. 

Before catching my ferry across the lake to the small town of San Pedro, I was confused by the knocking noise I heard around me as I stood in the hotel parking lot where my driver and I stopped to pick up a group of Habitat Volunteers. At 6:30 AM not even the sun had fully risen, so I was rather surprised to hear anyone up and about. Sure enough perched atop a parked car I found our culprit not more than 20 feet away from me...

The lake is an absolute wonder. Surrounding the clear waters are 3 volcanoes: Volcan San Pedro, Volcan Toliman, and of course Volcan Atitlan. I was lucky enough to catch my morning ferry across the lake as the sun was beginning to rise above the impressive lake and it's breathtaking background of volcanoes.

Not a bad way to start the morning...

I was fortunate to pass this nearly perfect weekend with nothing less than flawless weather. While initially taken aback a bit by the fact that there is not much more to do than lounge around the small town of San Pedro, I soon came to find out that this is exactly what we need more of in our lives. A lazy paddle to a beach across the lake in kayak, a casual stroll through the neighboring port town of Santiago, a friendly game of P-E-R-R-O (adaptation of the basketball's H-O-R-S-E) with a neighborhood kid, and a few cold beers while watching the Super Bowl was just what this gringo needed...

Neighbor: Bien Loco

My house in in Antigua is part of, what I like to call, a compound. There is a main door that leads to the street and the city outside of our compound walls and within these walls are two houses that are identical, from what I can tell.

(Our "Cabin" in the "Compound")

From the angle that this photo is taken, to the left about 15 feet you would find the second cabin which belongs to a local family comprised of a German dude, his Guatemalan wife and their son which I am clocking in at about 4-5 years old gauged solely by the sound of his voice since I am yet to actually see the rugrat. 

A little backstory: Upon first moving in, my friend and roommate was sure to give me the lowdown on the neighbor as he had recently had a couple run-ins with him already. The background I was given was that the German was rather ornery and quick to complain about the noise coming from our house. As every story has two sides, and as I was still getting to know my roommate, I listened to the stories thinking that perhaps my roommate was exaggerating a bit and that this neighbor couldn't be so bad. The picture he painted was of a crotchety, old man whose lederhosen was hiked up too high and I had a hard time believing that this guy could be so unreasonable - or at least I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Well unfortunately, I learned yesterday that this guy was just as unreasonable as my friend had described. The altercation is summarized below (please keep in mind this is the first time I have met/spoken to this man):

- Me and 3 friends were sitting in our peaceful garden chatting as the 6 o'clock hour neared. The neighbor comes into the main door walking past us on his way to his house and we all silently agree to ignore him since we've all heard the horror stories of his temper.

- The neighbor stops and stares at my friend and I as if he has something to say. He says nothing, so after an awkward 10 seconds of him burning holes through us with his evil stare we give a head nod/hand wave and I say "Buenas Tardes."

- The neighbor immediately corrects me and tells me it's "Good night, not good afternoon!" Rather than argue over the finer points of what differentiates the afternoon from the night, I kindly ask how he is doing.

- At this point the neighbor delves into his rant, which appears to have been rehearsed numerous times previously. He immediately raised his voice with his broken Spanish telling all of us that we have drug & alcohol abuse problems and that I am a "big American from the ghetto" who has "no order" in my life. He wags his finger in our faces and ignores anything we try to say. I can make out that his concern is that we are constantly too loud and have too many parties, but he is so worked up and barely speaks Spanish, so I can't be entirely sure what's spewing out of his mouth. 

- His concerns are only partially valid. Yes, we have friends over and "party," however we are well aware of our sensitive neighbor, so we keep our noise down and leave the house by 9:30 pm. Either way, the point is that if he has a problem there are much more civilized ways to address the issues, especially for a 50 year old man.

(What I wish my neighbor looked like)

- After a couple of attempts to tell him I'd be pleased to talk about his concerns as long as he calms down and refrains from yelling at me and being so disrespectful, he reminds me that I know nothing about respect. Once again, this is a grown man yelling at me as if I am his son or as if he knows me. I have never met this man before in my life.

(More accurate representation: Childish, angry, unrelenting)

- I consider reacting in a way that would give some truth to his misconception that I am from the "ghettos" of the US, but cooler heads prevail and we simply tell the man to leave us in peace and begin to ignore him.

I've decided to avoid the neighbor for the remainder of my time here, however, with such close quarters I am sure there will be another run-in not too far away. Stay tuned for more updates on the angry neighbor.

Lazy Sunday in Antigua

After a successful Saturday night celebrating a friend and neighbor's birthday, I woke this Sunday rather energetic. I took a morning jog through the "suburbs" of the city, which is a pleasant nook of colorful, colonial houses peppered among quaint parks full of flowing fountains and white, stone park benches.

The perfect 80 degree weather felt especially hot today as not a single cloud was in the clear, blue sky. The clear sky made for perfect views of the volcanoes that surround the city and make me think of times long past when the locals must have thought these were necessary for protecting them and keeping intruders out of the city.

Volcan Agua looking over Antigua

Volcan Agua looming over Central Park to the south of Antigua

 Peek-a-boo

Artisan Market in Antigua

Volcan Fuego protecting Antigua