January 2003
I arrived with so much anxiety about the dangers of Guate that my body produced its first ever feminine infection while I was on the plane. I didn't know what was going on--it was such a new and startling sensation. I was just so damned worked up about getting out of Guate, and I'm not a worrier. Not generally.
Everyone told me, "Get out of Guate as fast as you can, it's so dangerous." I booked a flight that landed before dark to avoid the wretched nighttime. I took a taxi to a bus station and took a bus to Antigua, the safe place. I found a cheap hostel, using my Lonely Planet as a guide, and then set about finding a cure for the stress-induced infection. I found a typical over-the-counter remedy at a farmacia, but passed. I opted instead to use the lactobacillus acidophilus tablets that I had packed for the much-anticipated digestive problems that were guaranteed to afflict me during my stay in the country.
I fretted about everything, and prepared for all kinds of ailments--vomiting, diarrhea, parasites, worms, typhoid, cholera, tetanus, measels, giardia, malaria, infection, dehydration, bad water, blisters, acne, menstruation, pregnancy, and sex. I received all necessary vaccinations and brought a small pharmacy that included the Plan B pill, condoms and lube, water treatment tablets, ciprofloxacin, quinine for malaria, and the remainder of my unfinished course of oral vaccination for typhoid--on ice. I packed several forms of natural remedies for stomach problems: grapefruit seed extract, activated charcoal, curing pills, these little bitter yellow Chinese herbal jobs packaged in itty bitty plastic canisters with a blue lid and a small cotton swab; wormwood tincture, and goldenseal tincture. I even packed a sewing kit and a Leatherman multi-tool. I was ready for it all.
I spent just one night in Antigua and didn't bother to see the town before leaving the next morning. I wanted to get to Xela and spend a couple of days getting to know the city before my language classes began. I transferred buses at Chimaltenango, which scared the shit out of me. Everyone told me, "They'll steal your bag right off the top of the bus." So I watched carefully as my bag was tossed about. The ayudantes could tell that I was nervous and they poked fun at me, though I didn't understand what, exactly, they were saying.
...
I came to Guatemala for several reasons, the most practical being to learn to speak in Spanish. I came because I read the book, I, Rigoberta Menchú. I read the book because my friend Andy took me to see Rigoberta Menchú speak at an event in New York City, while I still lived there. I wanted to go to the mountains. I didn't understand, yet, what Rigoberta Menchú meant when she said that she and her family ate "tortillas con chile" every day. I didn't understand the chile part, but I wanted to.
...
The homestay in Xela was not everything that I had hoped for, so after one week I asked to transfer out. I ended up at a hotel across the street from the school, roomed up with a load of girls from Denmark. Also studying at the school that week were two young women from my same town, Santa Cruz, California. We had friends in common, but had never met. One of the girls was originally from Monterey, the town adjacent to my hometown, Pacific Grove. Her father owned the XXX theatre in Monterey--I had driven by it a thousand times and knew it by name. Both girls worked as dancers in Santa Cruz--there was no strip club, they worked house parties. Gabriel, an affable young man from New Jersey, became our fourth. The four of us ate and drank together, explored together, shopped together. I made other friends, too, but spent most of my social time with the girls and Gabe. We went out big one night--I think it must have been the girls' last night. We went to a nightclub in the downtown area. The only thing I remember about that place is that they had club dancing, and that I made out with the girls in the bathroom--first one, and then the second joined, and then the three of us made out. I'm not sure how or why, but we decided to take a taxi to the outskirts of Xela to a strip club. At the door, the bouncer was not eager to let us enter. He consulted with his manager before permitting us passage. We had to convince them that yes, we really wanted to go in there, and that yes, we knew what we were getting into. We didn't, but that was the point.
