learning to surf: Adios, Xela

Where to begin...

Thursday:

Visit with classmates to nearby church, San Andres Xecul. An amazing combination of Mayan traditions and Chrisitanity. Rudimentary construction, the facade looks like its made of play-dough. After dinner we watch the documentary: When the Mountains Tremble , a flick about the 1983 civil war in Guatemala as told by Nobel Prize winner Rigoberta Menchu. I had no idea of the atrocities, I highly recommend it.
Friday:

Weaving class at tramatextiles a cooperative of women weavers in the western highlands of Guatemala. It is backbreaking work and after 7 hours I have a scarf, or a cravat rather, since it turned out way too short to be a scarf...
Saturday:

Wake up super early for 5am pickup by Daniel (one of 13 children btw), the hiking guide taking me and some others up to Lago Chicabal. UP the mountain, heart pumping. Past pueblos, farms and hard working people (children included). Potatoes, corn, fava beans, carrots. UP into the rainforest. Hear the call of the elusive Quetzal bird but Daniel is the only one able to spot it...Summit! Look left, erupting volcano Santiaguito. Look right, Lago Chicabal, a lake formed in the crater of an erupted volcano. Down 600 steps to sacred (for Mayan and Christian alike) lake. Walk around, so beautiful. Millions of types of mushrooms. Clouds peak over the lip of the crater and tumble into lake and dissapear in seconds. Head back down mountain, pass group of 6 boys about 7-8 years old all carrying huge bundles of sticks on their heads. First impulse is to feel sorry for, but they are singing and kicking a (makeshift) ball...Walk through quickly moving clouds that nestle IN the mountains, we are up so high. Feels like I can sip the air. Get back to town and I have a lunch that I don't even taste because I am so hungry. Meet up with friends from school and new friends from morning hike. Head to Fuentes Georginas, volcanic hot springs. HOT water, cold air, cold mountain rain. A heavenly sensory overload. The feeling of floating on my back in steamy volcano-heated water with cold rainy-season drops hitting my face will stay with me forever. Head back to town, miraculously find Mediteranean restaurant claimed by two Israeli girls to be "the best falafel they've ever had". Statement accurate...

Sunday:

Last breakfast with my house-mom. Lots of advice about finding a husband (ha!) and life in general. Very sweet. Chicken bus to Antigua.

phew.