HOPE THE HIGH ROAD.

First things first. If you haven't listened to the first single from the new Jason Isbell album, well here it is. Without going into excruciating detail, it says alot about where I am and where I am not right now. Most of y'all know my politics and my neverending devotion to all things Isbell, so I'll leave it at that.

So here I am in Antigua, Guatemala, and I am getting comfortable. Things that terrified me when I got here on November 3rd (the day after the Chicago Cubs won the World Series...because that is a thing that happened. Don't forget that), I do now. Part of it is becoming more relaxed about the Spanish language problem. I've had enough school that I can comfortably get around, but for awhile I was scared to speak, thinking I would get it wrong and people would make fun of me. That's sort of a theme in all aspects of my life, but for some reason I don't care anymore, at least about the Spanish part. If it's wrong, it's wrong, and I tried. I've found that generally people are willing to help and usually they understand well enough.

With that said, I'm venturing out of my comfort zone. The first big step was getting a Guatemalan phone. I cannot describe the terror of walking into the Claro office, taking a number, and hoping like hell I could explain to the dude that I needed a SIM card. As it turns out, it was painless. 

So now I'm thinking of moving, and the reason is completely ridiculous. Yes, it's Steve. As some of you know, he has a barking issue when I'm not here. People have stopped complaining, so maybe he's better, I don't know.  Either way, this place has paper thin walls (though they're made of stone so I dunno) and an option has become available. The little house in a compound where a friend lives is available, and I'm probably going to take it. It's a little bit out of town, but my friend has dogs for Steve to play with, so I won't feel as bad about leaving him. It'll allow me to get out more and see more of  the town that I moved to. As it is now, I'm pretty hesitant about leaving for more than 3 hours or so with Steve in his crate. 

With this comes the need for a car because it's about 15 minutes outside of town. I've wanted one for awhile because a scooter really limits you, and whomever convinced me to buy as scooter and not a car in the first place can kiss my ass. For example, there's only one grocery store in Antigua proper and it suuuucks. (why that is, I don't know) But there are some great stores outside of town in San Lucas or in Guatemala City. However, you need more than a scooter to get there and to haul your stuff back. So I'm going to look at a Jeep on Friday. Completely practical? Maybe not, but when the weather is perfect year-round and you drive on cobblestone streets, the open air and knobby tires are appealing. Downside, it's a stick...I haven't driven a stick since high school. So, maybe it's like riding a bike or maybe I'm going to make a complete fool of myself. Total crapshoot. I tried to upload an image, but apparently I'm too dumb so anyway, it's black like my heart. 

St. Patrick's Day has come and gone, and I was woefully overserved. As it turns out, the Jamey Girls

are an international phenomenon, and I totally blame them. I went to The Snug (surprise), which had opened at 6 am. 6. In the daytime. Whatever, some folks are bolder souls than I. There was Irish music, Irish people, and one Irish flutist who was about the most attractive human that I've ever laid eyes on in my 40+ years of circling the sun. As day faded to night the crowd rendered the tiny bar into a sweatbox, and I became increasingly aware that I was not fit for public, I wandered the streets of Antigua and rediscovered some of the reasons I moved here. The place is visually stunning. Central American light is different than in the States. I don't know why that is, but it is.

Semana Santa, or the leadup to it, has begun. What I thought would be sort of like Mardi Gras....is nothing like Mardi Gras. Nobody throws anything, the marching bands don't play funk and it's really reverent. Everything in bars stops when the procession comes by out of respect. Nobody's hollering "throw me something mister," there's not a moon pie in sight, and I suppose showing tits would really be frowned upon. Who knew? And there was one bro in a red Klan hat, which gave me pause. Even my British friends were like, "yeah, that's not a good look dude."

It's not bad yet, but I'm told that during the actual Holy Week, Antigua is pretty much not navigable by humans. It's apparently the largest celebration in the western hemisphere. Some of  y'all know my feelings on crowds, so it looks like I'll be stocking up on food and liquor and hunker down in the casa like some sort of survivalist in Montana. 

"Wherever you are, I hope the high road leads you home again..to a world you want to live in..." -Jason Isbell

This might be mine. 

Adios for now.