Act I

If my first three weeks here were the prologue to the story of My Time in Guatemala— this story with as-yet-unknown length and plot, motif and themes— then I feel as if I am entering Act I.

My roommate arrived, and this naive newbie became tour guide, a relative expert. ("Oh, sure, you can get tomatoes here," I say, "but they come in shrink wrap. And the bright-pink, spiky fruit of comparable size you can only buy from Kaqchikel-speaking vendors at certain times of day and in certain spots by the docks and on the main street are so much better, and far more filling...")

It's exciting, but this transition into routine has brought with it some accompanying weariness, and new negatives. I crave things I won't be able to access until I visit the States— movie theaters and Indian food chief among them— and my yearnings are perhaps magnified by the certainty of prolonged deprivation. I miss things I thought I wouldn't: neuroticism, timeliness, being able to walk down the street anonymously. As I set up my classroom and prepare for the school year, I miss many things I thought I might, things that need to exist—but not, perhaps, in their current American manifestations: curricular mandates, governmental oversight, Child Protective Services, diagnostics and resources for learning disabilities. Perhaps most poignantly, I miss things— geographical grounding, having exactly the vocabulary I need to say whatever I want— whose absence and inverse gives me joy. And I miss most fervently the aspects of my old life I knew I would: my friends and my family foremost, and then, a rung belong, cultural know-how, disposable income, books. I miss a sense of situatedness. And clumping cat litter.

And I had my first truly frightening experience: with a tuk tuk driver whose advances were insistent and aggressive. (He ultimately accepted my firm NO before anything terrible happened, and I am fine now, but my strolls throughout town are now considerably less carefree, and less naive— which, at my more glass-half-full moments, I realize may be ultimately antidotal.)

In other news, all the teachers are now here, the school had an open house, and school starts one week from today!

I am beginning to set up my classroom, which consists of two very small, connected rooms. The process is exhausting, but so very exciting.

 Here is the book nook, where we'll do all of our reading and literacy activities:

And here's the other room. The kids' portraits will go under this sign.

(View from the back:)

This is a view of the elementary yard:

I'm particularly proud of this guy:

To those of you who have donated for iPads for my classroom, thank you so, so very much. I am so touched by your generosity.


Also, it has still not stopped raining, but my roommate and I took a boat across the lake anyway.

Onward! More soon.


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And: photos have been updated.