TRANSITIONS, DIFFICULTIES AND PLEASANTRIES.

This transition has been, in many ways, harder than I expected, but in others, easier than I expected.

I chose Antigua because, of the Central American towns and cities, it is both cosmopolitan and navigable. By that I mean, it is not a huge town so I figured it would be relatively easy to meet people here...and it has been, thankfully. But also it is very multicultural, so I figured not knowing Spanish at first would not be that big of a deal. I could not have been more wrong. As far as going out at night and such, it is not that big of a deal, but in day-to-day functioning, it is a huge vacuum.

Case in point: I needed to pay my tramitador (a sort of lawyer, who is processing my residency forms), and she gave me her bank account number to deposit the money. So, my plan was to go to the bank with my credit card and have them pay it from the card into the account. I got there and not one person in the bank even spoke pidgin English, so that was a no go. I ended up finding a work around through my online bank, so it all worked out, but that is not the point. Situations will arise that I am not going to be able to navigate due to the language barrier, and that is overwhelming and frustrating. For example: I need to buy a car, I think. My apartment is just far enough from town that walking every day is a little much. But I can't because I don't speak the language not only to buy it, but also to navigate the avalanche of forms that the Guatemalan government requires to buy a car. So I walk, and I walk, and I walk. My feet hurt all the time.

Monday (tomorrow) I am going to check out a recommended Spanish school to remedy that problem, but it won't be an overnight fix, so really I've just got my fingers crossed that nothing goes horribly wrong between now and the six weeks or so that it will take for me to become somewhat functional in the native language.

I don't know what to do about Steve. He is barking when I leave him in the kennel, which is something that he did occasionally in Orange Beach, but not often. The walls here are thin (despite their being made of concrete, which I don't really understand), and my neighbor has complained. So, I went and bought some valium, which I have given him at night when I am not taking him with me. This is obviously not a long-term solution, but I am hoping he will begin to associate his kennel with going to sleep, and the barking will stop. If it doesn't, I don't know what I'm going to do. I take him everywhere with me during the day, and that's fine for now, but I will need to shop for groceries eventually, and I'd rather not have to medicate the pup just so I can go buy food.

This post was not intended to be a bitch session, so let me tell you that the good does outweigh the bad and I would recommend doing this to anyone. Last night, I was at a bar called "The Snug."

At the bar with me were two Dutch guys, some Australians (Aussies are really annoying btw, like even louder Americans), a Norwegian fella who went to high school in Cleveland and Bama Bob from Dothan. The value of travel is not in the places you see or in the pictures that you take. It lies in the people that you meet and the perspectives that you learn. This will sound preachy, and I don't care: dammit Americans, get out of your own country and see the world, and not the places the guide books send you.  I'll never understand the value of going to Seaside, when you can literally go to Latin America or Europe for the same price. Get out of your protective bubble, guys.

If the last week has taught us anything, it's that we are entirely too afraid of people who aren't just like us. Travel is the cure. People are good; they are helpful; and they are kind. Everywhere.


I mentioned that it has been easier than expected in some ways, and it has. Primarily, it has been really easy to meet people. Though it may come as a surprise to those of you who know me, and think I'm an extrovert because I am if I know you, I am painfully shy with strangers. I have no idea what to say, what to talk about, and I can't imagine why anyone would want to talk to me in the first place. I lived in Orange Beach, Alabama for three years and left knowing about four people whom I didn't know before, if that's any indication of how crippling the shyness is. Here, though, people are incredibly welcoming and outgoing. They actually introduce themselves and talk to me, and it keeps happening over and over so I'm assuming it's not a fluke or some elaborate joke. I mean, it's just been introductions and casual talk, nobody's asked me to hang out or anything, but maybe that will come one day.

So, despite the frustrations and the occasional urge to say "fuck this," pack my stuff and move back to my comfort zone, I know that's not in my long-term best interest. It won't happen immediately, but I think maybe I can get my smile back here in Antigua, Guatemala, and that's been missing for a very long time. Cheers!