Life in Antigua: Part III

Hey everyone, 

I am sorry for the amount of time that has passed since your last installment of "Life in Antigua." I have lofty goals of writing you pages and pages every day, but I simply don't have the time. Wow... so much has happened since last week. Where to begin?

Well, Jan (the neurotic dietician from Colorado) moved out last Friday, saying that she wanted "another authentic experience" somewhere else. I can't say that my family was sad to see her go. She got more and more strange as the week progressed. Not to worry though... we had a chance to spend the WHOLE DAY together on Sunday. Unbeknownst to me, we both signed up for the same day trip to Chichicastenango and Panajachel (or something like that) on Sunday. Uh... it was me, three French Canadian ladies who really didn't speak much Spanish or English (nor did they seem to want to), our Spanish guide (yet another Carlos), and Jan.

It was an okay day, to put it mildly. First of all, I'm beginning to discover that Guatemala looks the same just about everywhere. There's always going to be tons of trash in the road, there's always going to be Mayan women carrying twice their body weight on their heads, there's always going to be little men picking out cigarette butts from the cobblestone roads with salad tongs, etc. Of course, there are things that I will just never quite get used to - like hearing Eminem's "Without Me" set to a Latino beat, for example. :)

Second of all, no one spoke English (or, in Jan's case, wanted to). Now, I know the point of my time here is to learn Spanish, but by end of my second week, I was ready to have a decent conversation in my native tongue. On the bumpy and dusty two and a half drive back to Antigua, I prayed to God. "Lord, I'm starting to feel a bit lonely. I just want to TALK to someone. Will you please send someone I can talk to, even if it's just one conversation?"

LO AND BEHOLD! God heard my cry. When I arrived home, a new housemate had taken Jan's room, but she was already asleep. The next day I met Anna, a 35 year-old nurse from North Carolina. She is so great! She's traveled all over the world working with a group of nuns for months and years at a time - the Philipines, Little Village in Chicago, NYC, Nicaragua, etc. I actually thought she was a nun at first because 1) she is not married, 2) she smiles all the time, and 3) she wears two pendants around her neck, one of the Virgin Mary, and another one of - I'm not sure what, exactly, it is. We have had the most amazing conversations the past few days and we've discovered that we have some of the strangest things in common. She even knows quite a bit of sign language. Not only can we talk in English and Spanish, we can converse in SIGN LANGUAGE! Is God good, or isn't he?

This week I also started my volunteer work at a hospital/convalescent home/orphanage/social work building/church. I took a tour last Thursday of the facilities, and it was hands down the saddest sight I've ever seen. Believe me, I've seen my fair share of old people, sick people, and abandoned babies, but this... this was different. They were all together in one place, many of them with physical or mental (or both) disabilities. There was always someone screaming. There were rows of kids with disabilities in metal cribs that looked more like jail cells. Some of them were as old as fourteen, but I could hold them in my arms like toddlers. It took all the strength I had in every cell in my body not to weep the whole time.

I started my first day of work in Wednesday with the babies. A few of them are recovering from cleft palate surgeries while most suffer from malnourishment. I worked with two of the malnourished babies mostly. At first, I was so afraid that I would break them or that they would die in my arms they were so fragile. Their skin was so thin and I could see their ribcages, their skulls, hm... it was hard. Changing their diapers or feeding them or rocking them scared me to death. Their bodies were so stiff, their fists were clenched into little balls, they gasped for every breath, and they would stare into nothingness for minutes without blinking their eyes. Just pray with me that their health will improve and that they will feel the love of Jesus through me and the other volunteers.

On a much lighter note, I had to change teachers this week because my first teacher had been "reserved" for the month of March. When I first heard this, I "marched" into the director's office and "reserved" her for the month of April. Ha! This week's work was a little boring (who wants to copy down ten pages worth of rules about prepositions?), but my conversations with my new teacher, Elizabeth, have been improving steadily. The most helpful times in my journey toward Spanish proficiency have been around the dinner table doing my homework with my "brothers."

Speaking of "brothers," I'm going to a concert tonight in the capital with the oldest, Jose, and his friends. The name of the artist (or group?)is Elefante. What?! Elephant? It should be interesting. Paula, the 16 year-old girl who works in our house thinks that all of the brothers are in love with me, with the exception of Rodrigo, who isn't old enough to like girls yet. Ay, ay, ay, mi vida.

Well, I guess I should send this pup before disaster strikes me and my computer again. Many thanks to those who have written me... It means so much to read about life where you are!

Love,
Nicole