Snate's Six-Month Sojourn travel blog


I thought I'd do a quick posting to describe our fourth week teachers. This week, a huge group from the Netherlands arrived at our school to study, and the atmosphere has definitely changed a touch. Both the mornings and afternoons are completely laden with students, and the activities are very full. The old teachers are all here, but Celas Maya had to borrow some teachers or hire bums from the street for this week. Sam and I are both gearing up to leave for another school by Lago de Atitlan this weekend, and the change sounds quite refreshing. Anyway . . . the teachers:

Sam's teacher's name is Erika. Sam was ill on Monday so she didn't get to meet Erika. On Tuesday, Erika started Sam off with the alphabet. This is our fourth week here, and Sam is well aware of the alphabet at this point in time. Also, Erika speaks incredibly quickly, and doesn't understand Sam's inability to understand her not understanding. So, today in the late morning, Erika stumbled upon Sam's school record here at Celas Maya, realized she was in her fourth week, and started her off immediately on concepts way above Sam's level. Apparently Erika was borrowed from a neighboring school.

My teacher's name is Judith. Judith is incredibly nice and intelligent. Judith's uncle and his wife were assasinated last Tuesday, but she still feels compelled to be at work this week. So, Judith and I have been doing a lot of chatting and have not been working on grammar much (though we've done a little). Yesterday, Judith tried to sell me some gold earrings for Valentine's Day, which I declined. Today, to mix things up a bit, Judith asked if Sam and I would mind accompanying some dumbass from the US through Mexico to the US. This dude is 50 years old, and he convinced his Guatemalan friend who was living in the US that they should both move to Guatemala to live, not contemplating the fact that if his buddy left the States, he wouldn't be coming back (that is, unless he could get ahold of Sam Walton). So, they left the US, moved to Guatemala, and within a month or two, the American wants to go back home. But he doesn't speak Spanish, and it sounds like he's a friggin moron. In my lilting Spanish, I explained to Judith that 1) this trip is for the two of us and we don't necessarily want some dude traveling with us and 2) if you leave all of your stuff and move to a country where you don't know a lick of the language and suddenly feel homesick, you gots to deal with that yourself. End of story.

Celas Maya has been fantastic, but we're about to head out . . .



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