Map Update I

Now that we’re established in a new country—Costa Rica—it’s everybody’s favorite blog time: map update time! We’re including just the legend for places we visited in Nicaragua. If you want to see the legend for locations 1 through 14, you’ll have to scroll down and look at our last map update. Click on blog entries for November.

As you’ll see below, Nicaragua was a worthwhile destination for us. To preview, we met awesome people that are due to become lifelong friends, some through impressively random encounters. And, notably, we had a couple diverse and extremely informative volunteer opportunities.

15 – 10/31 to 11/25 – Leon, Nicaragua. A young town bustling with a small ex-pat scene. We lived at the headquarters of QuetzalTrekkers, a volunteer-run organization that leads hikes up volcanoes and donates all proceeds to local charities. During the three weeks we were there, we busied ourselves with various projects ranging from hanging shelves, to finding a local peanut butter source, to working with street kids at Las Tias.

16 – 11/25 to 11/27 – Jinotega, Nicaragua. A respite from Leon both as regards climate (it’s cool) and tourism (there’s very little). We stopped in this mountain for two nights and busied ourselves with computer stuff. Here Joe became a journalist.

17 – 11/27 to 11/28 – Masaya, Nicaragua. To celebrate Thanksgiving night we had pizza in Masaya, famous for its artisanal crafts and markets. Joe’s “fake wallet” stolen .

18 – 11/28 to 11/30 – Laguna de Apoyo, Nicaragua. Small world: Our CouchSurfing host was the son of a patient Juleen served in Chicago. We stayed in his mini-mansion, toured his finca, ate amazing food, and delighted in conversation about our Midwestern roots.

19 – 11/30 to 12/01 – Playa del Coco, Nicaragua. A random ride made us friends with Laurie, an amazing person and New York City lawyer. Half-Nicaraguan, her family holds onto a glorious beach house on a beautiful, sparsely populated piece of Nicaragua’s Pacific coast. We gladly kept her company for the night.

20 – 12/01 to 12/09 – Isla de Ometepe, Nicaragua. Two volcanoes dot the center of the figure eight shape this island makes. We roughed it for the week at Project Bona Fide. Most rustic week of each of our lives. Very educational. The people made the experience.

21 – arrived 12/09 – Liberia, Costa Rica. Only a few kilometers into Costa Rican territory, the difference between this place and everywhere else we have been is stark. Lights shine brighter. Skin is fairer. Streets are cleaner. Prices more painful. Our wallets will not allow us to leisurely take in Costa Rica.

Despite its harsh reputation, its reputation particularly with Americans that is, Nicaragua both entertaining and interesting. For anyone looking to go south to travel, live, or whatever, we recommend it.

Sunday afternoon Gallera

Here is the scene: Hot Sunday afternoon. A large backyard, especially for Nicaraguan standards. A big, open gazebo in the backyard. No, it’s not a gazebo. It’s a small circular arena with three-row high home-made stands. Roosters are calling as if it were dawn. Animal cages line the circumference of the backyard. One hundred Nicaraguan males. One Nicaraguan female. Ten to 15 gringo tourists. And, obviously, beer flowing as if it were water. Where are we at?

We went to the Leon community Gallera. No, not a gallery; a rooster fight. As we are now acutely aware, rooster fighting is quite the hobby for several men in the area. Roosters are bred, fed, and trained to be champion fighters. Fighting roosters are given special treatment throughout their careers; a career potentially lasting four years with two to four fights per year.

We were told that rooster fighting is “natural”. It was certainly extremely intense. We’re not so sure about natural. For example: To increase a fighters’ stamina, the rooster is walked on a leash for 45 to 60 minutes a day. Natural? The rooster’s hard (and potentially deadly) right nail is cut and a one to two millimeter “knife” covers its hard left nail, balancing the playing field between the roosters. Natural?

As the final bets are placed, the arena erupts with energy. (Bets placed can range between 50 cents and $2.50.) Just before the bell rings, everyone assumes his rightful place. Spectators pack the stands. A referee and a random individual who just wishes to have a closer look wait alongside the two owners gently holding their roosters in the arena. The roosters have, at most, 15 minutes to fight.

Roosters don’t get trained in fighting techniques, so the fight looks like you’d think… two birds jumping, pecking, kicking, and generally using brute force until one is either conspicuously defeated or concedes by laying his beak into the ground. While that can be to the death, it isn’t necessarily. We didn’t see any birds die in the ring, but we did see some that could very well be dead now.

The fights continue, but the gringos have had their fill. The hot afternoon has turned into a warm evening. The heat of the gallera defies the thermometer.

Lunch on the side of a volcano

We are presently volunteering with a volunteer-run organization, QuetzalTrekkers. With a three-month commitment a volunteer spends their days taking tourists on 1, 2, or 3 day hikes up volcanoes. Because it’s volunteer run, QuetzalTrekkers sends their proceeds to local community organizations. Cool, huh? Since neither of us is ready to give a three-month commitment, we are volunteering on the other end of this organization, working with the organization where QuetzalTrekkers sends their proceeds.

Yesterday the ambition was to go visit a remote school on the side of a volcano that QuetzalTrekkers’ proceeds helped build. The volunteers prepared lunch and on-the-fly games for approximately 50 kids. Several volunteers and I, Juleen, hopped in the back of a pick-up truck at 7:30AM, and we were off to visit “our school.” En route we quickly turned off the paved road, which made for a less comfortable ride, but no one was feeling too alarmed. Then, things started to get rough. The road became steep, the truck was struggling, and we were rocking from side to side. Realizing the difficulties that were lying ahead, those of us traveling in the bed of the truck hopped out and started trekking. After all, everyone (expect for me) was an avid hiker. Shortly thereafter, another volunteer who had stayed inside the truck came running towards us claiming, “The truck is on its side in a ditch.”

We hiked back to help. Several attempts to dislodge the truck failed. Holes were rapidly growing below the wheels as the wheels spun with each attempt. Communication was difficult (between two languages). And, leadership was minimal. THEN, the Nicaraguan men said they didn’t think the women should help. Women hiked two miles to the nearest farm to rest... Thank goodness, since we were a group of totally incapable women. An hour later, oxen showed up at the farm. Realizing the oxen were being prepped to pull the truck out, women walked back to see the spectacle. Women’s help was still undesired. Men chopped trees (attempting to make more traction for tires). Men dug holes. Men filled in holes. Mostly, men talked about doing “manly” work. Women made lunch, considering we had food for 50-plus people. Finally, the scene was set: oxen were in place, people were set, and the driver was ready. Oxen began to pull, people pushed (women were allowed to help), and the wheels burned more rubber. The truck didn’t move.

The “gringos” gave up and called a friend to come with a 4X4. While waiting the Nicaraguans, a group that slowly got larger throughout the day, dislodged the truck. It was a site to see and everyone cheered. The 4X4 didn’t come, the oxen were thanked with food, and we drove off.

Long story short, yesterday I had lunch on the side of a volcano with several QuetzalTrekker volunteers.

Getting Around

When we complete our adventures, we think that 50% of our noteworthy stories will relate to transportation. Trains are nonexistent and airfare is expensive. The bus system, however, is shockingly well developed throughout Central America, though it doesn’t always provide first-class accommodations. The buses themselves are worth a mention.

Do you know where American school buses come to retire? Central America. Buses from the 1970s and 80s abound. They’re painted wild colors with the name of a female adorning the back window. In addition, a young, agile, sometimes pushy, but generally helpful man is half-way out the front door yelling the direction of the bus to anyone and everyone on the street. Interiorly the accommodations are equally as stimulating. Latin pop-music blares while an impressive amount of people squish together, trying to keep the aisle clear. The young, agile man makes his way down the bus, often squeezing his way through standing passengers, collecting fares and throwing larger baggage anywhere possible, including the top of the bus. The circus continues when children, men, and women circulate the bus selling bare essentials, such as: water, prepared meals, candy, chicken, treats, papers, toothpaste, shampoo, and any other item imaginable (including mysterious vitamins/medications that do miraculous things).

While the buses themselves are a site to behold, using the system is quite an adventure too. Being “gringos” with over-sized luggage makes us targets—every young, agile busboy and roaming bus terminal helpers seems to know where we are trying to go before we tell them. Truly benevolent people are constantly helping us by telling us what bus to take and later when we should be getting off, and in between lugging our over-sized bags to unknown locations. It’s extremely overwhelming, especially when we really don’t know where we should be going or how much the bus should cost.

In the end, using the system for transportation is bumpy (pun) but kinda cool. We have, thus far, arrived at our desired destinations without too many hiccups. On one such “hiccup-less” trek from Perquin, El Salvador to Leon, Nicaragua (which required a bus through a slice of Honduras—see the map!), we took one pick-up truck, one mini bus, one bike trolley, five buses, and one taxi, and a mere 10 hours later we were hanging with new friends sharing travel stories.

Sympathizing with Thieves

Disclaimer: We knew that sharing a blog would be hard. Up until this blog, though, we've generally been able to type out a blog with relative ease--only slight grammatical or word changes taking place. For whatever reason, this time was a drastic change. Joe was probably too pig-headed about inserting his thoughts. Whatever the case, we hope you enjoy what we struggled to put together.

Throughout our travels we constantly hear from other individuals, “be careful”. Daily life in Central America seems to have a lot of emphasis on a few things: trying to remain inconspicuous—i.e. wearing nothing that appears to have value; noticing other individuals around you, and thus, inevitably, profiling people; and planning for the worst case scenario. In some cases, most notably Guatemala City, insistent warnings about safety have kept us from exploring places. Luckily, we haven’t seen or encountered any problems (knock on wood, please!).

You might ask: What could possibly be the cause of all of this insecurity? We by no means know the answer, but we think the following might have something to do with it: Civil Wars (known as the Contra Wars). Nicaragua’s ended in 1989; El Salvador’s Civil War lasted from 1980 to 1992; and Guatemala’s Civil War ended with peace accords signed in 1996. Twenty years later, the effects of war seem to be lingering. Perhaps these effects remain particularly strong since none of these recent civil wars produced a decisive “winner” (any experts on the subject out there?). While an entire college course on the subject of Central American Civil Wars and their effects would be best (and we need to take it!), we’ll focus on one country.

While El Salvador is the smallest country in Central America, it is estimated that 75,000 individuals died during the 12-year period comprising their civil war. What for? The usual: political disagreements linked all the way back to the social injustices started by the 15th - and 16th-century conquistadors. Clearly, we could write an entire blog about what occurred, but instead, we’d like to introduce Edgar. In 1978, fourteen year old Edgar joined the Guerrillas, and he maintained his Guerrilla warrior status until 1992. During that time we can’t imagine all he went through, but we know that he lost family and friends and encountered life-threatening situations. At one point, he was shot in the head and suffered a six month coma, after which he spent a mere month re-learning how to talk and walk before re-joining the Guerrilla ranks. The best thing about Edgar is that he is now an educator, teaching people about the war and his experiences in it as a guide at the El Salvador Civil War Museum in Perquin, El Salvador. During Edgar’s guided tour, he will even talk about the role the US government had in the war (donating, under the guidance of Reagan, six billion dollars to the El Salvadoran government, anti-Guerrilla war effort). Sadly the US has trained combatants, instigated coups, and generally supported US-friendly politicians, no matter their domestic policies, in El Salvador, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and throughout Latin America. Impressively, and thankfully for us, Edgar does not let flawed US government policies affect his opinion of American citizens.

So, while we walk down the streets with no valuables, only the equivalent of a few dollars in our pockets, continuously surveying our surroundings, we can’t help but try to understand and empathize.

Picture descriptions:
1. Edgar, 27 years after the war, showing us the remains of a bomb dropped by the government forces.

2. What's left of a helicopter blown up by guerrilla forces. The infamous General Monterrosa was purportedly inside.

3. A not so innocent sign that adorned our hike through former guerrilla territory. All limbs are still attached.

Surfer's Paradise

Life on the road can be hard. We spend every minute of every day together. Luckily we continue to enjoy each others’ company, but we do begin to talk of subjects we would not normally discuss. For example, who is more fun? Clearly, I am… Or, logically following from the first debate, who is more spontaneous? It’s obvious again, I am... Some areas where we do run into some difficultly: constantly making uninformed decisions (Should we pay this much for (fill in the blank)? What bus do we need to take? Where should we go in this country?); Juleen not being as social as Joe (and wanting to go to bed at 8:15); and, lastly, measuring our sense of accomplishment by pooping. Yes, we said pooping. Today was a successful day though, so we are not full of shit.

While we have these difficulties, they are currently masked by the beauty of surfers’ paradise. We are hanging loose (no pun intended) on the Pacific shores of El Tunco, El Salvador. It is a town where shirts and shoes are not required for service. What is required? A surfboard under one arm, a perfect tan, and a burning desire to hit the waves. Believe it or not, but we may not quite fit the El Tunco stereotype. Instead of catching the waves early this morning we were dodging the waves on a run. How else have we been hanging with the hip crowd? Eating the best ceviche and fish tacos ever. Reading depressing stories about the El Salvadoran Civil War. Playing with hermit crabs. And eating veggie sandwiches for lunch.

Speaking of food, you must want to ask, “Is the food different in El Salvador than in neighboring Guatemala?” I’m so glad you asked. We didn’t think there would be a big difference, and there really isn’t, except for one notable, cheap vendor food. While we steered clear of Guatemalan street vendors, we’re intoxicated by the smells emanating from their El Salvadoran counterparts. You see, El Salvador has the rights to brag about the delectable pupusa.

Pupusas are humble. Though they look simply like thick tortillas, they are so much more. They are corn tortillas filled with goodness. The most common pupusas contain cheese, beans, or pork. Juleen salivates over the cheese pupusas, and Joe salivates over any he can get his hands on, including pupusas left-over from another guy. While he might have risked contracting H1N1, at least he saved himself the hefty price tag of buying yet another $0.30 pupusa.

Tomorrow we leave our good surfing buddies to hang in Suchitoto, El Salvador. An area rich with El Salvador Civil War history. Keep your fingers crossed that we can get a tour with an ex-guerilla.

Intro to El Salvador and CouchSurfing

Finding a public "chicken bus" from Guatemala City to our border-town destination--DIFFICULT!

Crossing the Guatemalan-El Salvadoran border--EASY! Happy that there were no fees, but sad that we couldn't get a stamp in our passports : (.

First night of CouchSurfing with Heather, the PeaceCorps volunteer in Candelaria, El Salvador--GREAT! Great food--including oatmeal w/ flax for breakfast--and a great morning run.

Second night of CouchSurfing, this time with Atillio and Rosaria in Ataco, El Salvador on the touristy Ruta de las Flores--AMAZING! Great veggie soup and tortillas awaited us. The signature El Salvadoran food, pupusas--tortillas with a cheese, bean, herb, etc filling--, came shortly thereafter. Stories from Atillo, a former Greyhound bus driver in the States, entertained us throughout the night and morning. Early morning sunrise over the seven volcanoes was spectacular. Breakfast was fabulous and even included limitless cups of REAL coffee!

Gotta go, though. We're off to the El Salvadoran playa (beach) with our CouchSurfing hosts!

Pictures of Atillo and Rosaria and Juleen and Joe in front of the Seven Volcano Sunrise vista.

Back on the road again

First off, a belated thanks to the following people for their help in finding other, non-Honduran options: Paula and Brian Cook, Steph Jarem, Grandma Heinhuis (including Denise Moore), Julie Rodakowski, and Lauren Asay. Looks like we´ll be headed to Leon, Nicaragua to work with street kids. But, back to the blog…

We are nomads. We have been bouncing from town to town, hotel to hotel, and restaurant to restaurant, searching for good deals and authentic Guatemalan experiences. We have come in contact with both, but, fear not, we plan to forge on and have no illusions of taking up permanent Latin American residence…yet.

Our first major landing spot since leaving Guatemala City early Saturday was Rio Dulce; a town filled with extremes. As the name implies (sweet river), it’s a beautiful town on a river that meet the Caribbean sea but it has a community struggling to keep their heads afloat. The most unique aspect of the town is the use of boats (ranging from yachts to dug-out canoes) for transportation. We stayed in the jungle in a bungalow, reached only by boat (see picture of Joe lounging). We had an interesting couple of days admiring a castle, mansions and yachts and, on the opposite end of the spectrum, haggling for non-gringo prices in the town’s market.

Heading northward in Guatemala, we reached towns just south of the Mayan ruin city of Tikal (our main destination). After another couple days searching for the true Guatemala and a good deal, we decided to splurge on a tour guide and visit the ruins. The ruins were breath-taking; towering above and below the jungle. Apparently, due to a lack of funds, a huge percentage of Tikal remains unexcavated. We spent several hours walking approximately five miles to see the old Mayan ceremonial center. Tikal is a huge site where only royals and priests lived, so it’s filled with monuments, stories, and celebratory structures. While our tour guide didn’t pan out to have the wealth of information desired—he rambled aimlessly without providing the depth of information we were after (see Juleen soaking it all in from the tour guide next to an stela in photo)—our video (of the many buildings surrounding the Grand Plaza, but also featuring impressive jungle sounds, found below) attests to the beauty and majesty of the place.

Well, now that we’ve seen the Mother of Mayan ruins (anyone want to dispute this claim?), where are we now? We are still 30km south of Tikal. We have taken a slight detour (figuratively, as we haven’t moved, just changed our plans) to volunteer at a clinic/community center. We are running a two-hour class for town kids in the afternoon, hoping to instill a little knowledge about reading, and eating and living well. Yesterday, our first teaching day, was a success. We had approximately ten kids show, and everyone (including us) was still smiling and laughing at the end of the day (see photo for the dream job mobiles we made with the kids). We even heard some kids practicing their English introductions after class at home!

As a cultural aside (and a feeble attempt to get you involved in this Blog): Does anyone know what’s up with all the guns here in Guatemala? Juleen informs me that there are a lot of guns in Peru also. Here in Guate, any private, random security guard is able to leisurely tote an AK-47 or sawed-off shotgun, and these security guards are everywhere--in front banks, hotels and even fast-food chains. The owners of the hostel in Rio Dulce confessed that acquiring their own sawed-off shotgun was painfully easy. Pictures of the arsenal to come in a later post.

Ann Sullivan Guatemala

Ann Sullivan Guatemala, our first volunteer location, is a community center providing services to young people with disabilities. Approximately six years ago, they started providing sessions to increase the independence of children with disabilities. As they have been growing, they have become involved with the Ann Sullivan center in Lima, Peru, latching onto their programs. Thus, the Guatemalan center is able to receive their curriculum ideas, supports, and continuing education.

So, what really goes on? In the morning, between 5 and 10 kids come for what is effectively a half-day of school. The school is based on the Ann Sullivan curriculum. Everything is functional, a lot of pictures are used, and kids maintain a routine. In the afternoon, kids come for one-hour one-on-one or two-on-one skill building sessions with their specialists. These sessions target whatever the kid needs, ranging from improving gross motor (through play) to improving fine motor (through writing activities) skills.

So, what have we been doing? Well, we wake up at 5:15 every morning! We drive through shockingly bad traffic to arrive at the center between 6:15 and 6:30. Conveniently, the center is a transformed house, so it is equipped with showers and all the house fixings (it serves as a second house in the city for our host family). For the first hour or two of the day we do some combination of the following: run (three times a week), read, write a blog, dream about a real cup of coffee (Joe, every morning), unsuccessfully try to access the internet, shower, and eat. After the specialists arrive and everyone has completed the hugs and kisses welcoming routine, we begin the slow and arduous process of changing the world. Our mornings are spent painting, constructing a wheelchair ramp, making potential adaptive devices, and helping as needed. In the afternoons, Joe performs more manual labor or he reads, and Juleen switches to assisting in treating kids and providing potential suggestions. While she doesn’t feel like she is revolutionizing the services being provided, she has provided some good OT 101 suggestions, as none of the specialists are trained therapists. At the end of the day, we drive home in shockingly bad traffic, arriving home around 7:30. After a light dinner, we start heading to bed.

But don’t worry much about our taxing days, as we are moving onward and forward Saturday.

Pictures are the following: upstairs roof before, indoor patio before, inaguration of the wheelchair ramp (the ramp did not get completed as easily as it might appear), upstairs roof after, and indoor patio after.

Help!

As you might know, after another week and a half in Guatemala City we planned on doing a week´s worth of traveling in Guatemala before making our way into Honduras. Pop quiz--what´s happened in Honduras recently?? If you happened to guess coup three months ago, followed by internal turmoil, and ultimately border closures, then you were right on! You might have already put this together, but I will go ahead and spell it out for you--border closures are bad for would-be Honduran travelers.

So, what do we do? We call upon our biggest asset--YOU (well, really your constant supply of super-fast worldwide web)!

To earn first prize -- Find a place (organic farm, hostel, nature reserve, community clinic, whatever!) that offers free housing and (I´ll be greedy) some food for volunteers. And where? Somewhere in Guatemala, Nicaragua or El Salvador. Finding a place on an island earns a ¨bonus¨!

To earn second prize -- Find the same type of place as above in Costa Rica or Panama. Or find a place anywhere in Central America, excluding Honduras, that charges a minimal fee for volunteers to stay and work.

To earn third prize -- Find a cheap way (boat, plan, Maah da Hey trail (sp?), whatever) to get from anywhere in Guatemala to anywhere in Nicaragua.

Consolation prizes for anything (and everyone) else!

You can post your ideas as comments here or email them to joe.d.moore.ii(at)gmail.com and (equally creative) juleen.rodakowski(at)gmail.com

Lago de Atitlan

Since our arrival in Guatemala all we’ve heard from the locals is how much there is to see and do in their wonderful country. As the weekend quickly approached we made our decision: we would go to the Guatemalan gringo capital—Panajachel, a town that sits above the shores of Lago de Atitlan (Atitlan Lake) while volcanoes tower over the lake. The staff at the community center jumped on board, and they were calling hostels (getting a non-gringo price), finding bus routes, and recommending activities.

Friday afternoon we were taken by staff to the bus stop. They were told a direct bus to “Pana” would leave at 1:30. Since we had ten to fifteen minutes, we were taken on a mini-tour of the district. The time quickly passed, and we were blocks away. We finally asked, something to the effect of, “shouldn’t we get to the bus.” We were assured the bus never leaves on time. At 1:45 we pulled up to the bus stop. The bus was long gone. Ooops. Fear not. Our driver took off down the roads, following the typical bus route, as we craned our necks to look at each bus we passed. Veering in and out of traffic, we finally found it, flagged it down (which isn’t uncommon), and hopped on. A few uneventful hours later, we arrived at the lake.

Most of Saturday was spent at a nature reserve next to Pana. We went on a 45 minutes hike full of swinging bridges, animals we had never seen, most notably monkeys, and a striking waterfall plummeting through the forest. After the hike, we enjoyed the reserve’s butterfly sanctuary and swimming in the lake at their private beach.

While the scenery is one-of-a-kind, we couldn’t help but enjoy the English-speaking American population at least as much as the natural setting. Whether it was an Oregonian lawyer turned guitar player, a middle-aged coffee shop owner, or a young woman holding down the fort at a used bookstore, the similar accents and stories were quite a joy.

But, at present, we now find ourselves back at “the center”, where we struggle to understand five year olds; we’re pretty sure they’re verbally advanced. We have finished conducting observations of therapists and ninos, and now are moving onto to the substance of our work here. Big ideas abound: ramps for wheelchairs, yellow lines to demarcate steps, and more.

Independence Day

First off, we’d like to wish everyone a happy belated Guatemalan Independence Day! I’m sure you celebrated, right? We certainly did. The celebration was filled with parades, typical breakfast foods (including Joe’s first “real” Guatemalan coffee!), book purchases, and no work, of course. Independence Day was Tuesday, and el centro (the place we’re volunteering) followed the holiday with a little celebration for the kids and their families on Wednesday—gory details below.

El centro does a great job of teaching children with disabilities independent living skills. To incorporate this teaching and the celebration they held a fiesta for an entire morning. The fiesta wasn’t only for the children, but it included their parents and siblings. The morning included games (fishing, pin the tail on the donkey, knock the cup tower over, and a throwing target game). After games we celebrated the success with dancing. Everyone was out there shaking to marimba music. Joe was throwing kids into the air, and Juleen was twirling every kid she could. Clearly you’d need a huge feast of typical food after all of that work… Luckily, they came through. The children were working on waiting in line, ordering, paying, and receiving food while we enjoyed a sampler platter of Guatemalan food. See the pictures to begin to appreciate the fun that was had.

What is all of this typical food we are eating? Well, it’s muy rico (very rich), as they frequently say. A typical breakfast consists of eggs with a non-spicy salsa, refried black beans, and bread. While that is Guatemalan typical, on work days typical for us is a bowl of cereal. The big adjustment (for Joe) has been the lack of consistency in having coffee, especially considering Guatemala is one of the coffee producing capitals of the world. While instant coffee is most common, he has been able to savor the occasional “good” cup of coffee.

For lunch, we are ordering from a local restaurant. For about two dollars (or 16 qutezals), we have a plethora of food. Every lunch contains a drink called rosa de jamaica (a semi-sweet drink made from flower petals), tortillas, and rice. Beyond those staples we eat meat, meat, and more meat. (In fact, one of our weekend lunches featured a smorgasbord of meat options—chicken, different types of sausage, and steak. Quite a meal for former vegetarians!) The meat is frequently prepared in a soup or a salsa sauce. As you may have deduced, lunch is a huge meal. It is their biggest meal of the day.

Finally, dinner. Dinner consists of a small serving of a salad or fruit or yogurt. Nothing else. In all, fear not… we aren’t starving. The food is excellent though quite different.

Pictures included: one of a parade in Antigua on independence day, two of the fiesta at el centro, and one of a volcano as seen in Antigua (however, this same volcano can be seen from “our” front yard).