a really short one

Sorry I haven't had time lately to make entries, and this will be a very short one. My Oxford Spanish/English dictionary is a bit strange. It neglected to translate "sunscreen," but it does have "subsoil," "subterfuge," and "ragamuffin." Still, it's generally useful and I've been referring to it about 50 times a day. In response to one of Martino's questions, churritos = tamales con carne = not for Levi. The other word I don't know yet, but yes I've been walking a lot. This would not be a good city if you're in a wheelchair - the sidewalks constantly disappear and reappear, are usually may 2 ft. wide, and are up to 3 feet raised from the sidewalk. I won't say any more til I can describe in proper detail.

La Escuela de Español Juan Sisay

is a non-profit educational collective, as it states in bold letters on the front wall of the building 100m from where I'm living. The schoolhouse itself has much in common with the few other building I´ve become familiar with: they are filled with natural light and fresh air, the colours, shapes, and materials are products of creativity, availability, and improvisation. I´ll get back to this when I describe where I'm living. Each class is one-on-one, taking place at a small table with teacher and student sitting opposite each other. There are about 10-15 such simultaneous classes, most taking place on the roof under canopies and umbrellas. Diego and I have a table on the corner of the roof, overlooking the street. Classes go from 8am-1pm, with a break at 10:30 and conferencias Wed/Fri at 11am. I'm proud to have been able to understand Diego tell me that he and almost all the teachers are university students, and this teaching pays his way through his physiotherapy degree. He says the big advantage to this school is that classes are in the morning, so he can attend his afternoon classes, whereas most other spanish schools teach in the afternoons. It´s hard for me to imagine, teaching 25 hrs/wk while going in school. I've made a lot of ridiculous sentences (ie, mis padres buscaron un hijo nuevo cuándo salí sin permisión - my parents looked for a new son when I went out without permission. just kidding, mom and dad). I suppose everyone on the roof could hear us laugh a few times. Diego and I are a good match I think. I have a surprisingly high motivation to work hard and learn spanish. In addition to the 5h of class per day I´m doing a couple hours of homework, doing school activities, keeping this journal, and trying to avoid speaking English with the other students. It´s been filling the days of my first week from about 6:30am to 10:30pm. I´ve reflected on how I don´t seem to choose very ´relaxing´ vacations! I did 2 activities organized by the school this week. Wednesday, we took a little bus to a concrete playing field to play several hours of soccer and basketball, Juan Sisay students & teachers vs. local kids. The games were close, it was tonnes of fun, and completely exhausting. I felt better about my shortness of breath when I remembered we´re at 2300m (7500ft). Today I went with one other Canadian to tutor 6 or 7-year-old kids in math. They live on the edge of town in much poorer housing than where I am. I speak little spanish and they speak no english, but we were able to communicate in math well enough. they´re a teacher's ideal students, who genuinely want to learn, and worked on their adding, subtracting, and multiplying for a solid hour before we all went and played soccer on a dusty gravel field. Luis, a little taller than my thighs, is a better player than I am and boy can that kid move. I´ve never been a soccer player before, but I´m really liking it.

arrival in Guatemala City

21 Febrero Arrived in Guatemala City and am finally scared, or excited I suppose. The airport here is small, and I got through customs quickly - not a question asked, just ´hola´ and ´bueno´ when I handed over my passport and form. Much more pleasant than US customs, who took away my apple and orange in Vancouver. Was picked up and taken about 2 min. to the small Hotel Dos Lunas where I spent the night. It´s a beautiful, clean, little hotel inside a veritably fortified high wall with razor wire. For US$40, I got transportation to the airport, a night´s stay, a ride to the bus station the next day, a first-class bus ticket to Xela, and someone from La Escuala Español Juan Sisay to pick me up from there and take me to the family I´m staying. So I´ve been more coddled than would be my usual liking, but I think it´s good because I have no idea what to do here, and any Spanish I thought I knew is gone when I try to actually use it. Most rooms at Dos Lunas are different pastel colours; my room has pink stucko walls, or perhaps peach. It´s 20C outside, and my window is open. The planes pass almost directly overhead, but the rest of the time at night all I hear is occasional traffic, crickets, and a strange occasional beeping sound. To bed early tonight, after reading a little more of I... Rigoberta Menchu - An Indian Woman in Guatemala. 22 febrero - Guatemala City to Xela Most other houses and businesses I see have high protective walls and often razor wire. Traffic is heavy and chaotic. As contrary as it is to my usual habits, I´m glad to get a ride to the bus station. On the drive we saw a herd of about 12 goats, unleashed, walking cooperatively along the sidewalk and crosswalk. The driver said you can buy a cup of warm milk, squeezed as you wait. The city is very heavily advertised for cars, electronics, weight loss, and other familiar things. Perhaps I didn´t give it a chance, but I´m glad to be moving right along to Xela. The ´first-class´ bus cost Q37, about CDN$6 for the 4 1/2h, 200km trip to Xela. The bus looks like an 80´s Greyhound bus, with a cracked-up right-hand windshield and springs protruding through my seat cushion. A policeman with a short-barrel, pump- During the trip, I observe examples of what appear to me as obvious highway class discrimination. There are many police enforcement traps along the highway. We pass one where a group of police are ticketing a group of indians* who are packed into the back of a small pickup. Someone translates for me that the bus driver´s assistant explained something like "they´re not allowed to ride like that." Which, if true, means the police were ostensibly "protecting" them from themselves. Which reminds me a bit of the premise of bicycle helmet laws, but don´t get me started on that. Anyways, a bit later, our driver passes a vehicle around a blind corner, honking to warn any unfortunate souls around the corner of the impending danger, while his assistant waves to the passed vehicle to slow down. He does this many times on the trip, but this time there is a police trap which waves us over. The driver and assistant get out, and after a couple minutes of bargaining we are on our way again. He continues passing around blind corners. A perhaps more subtle unfairness along this highway, to my mind at least, is the obvious danger to those bicycling or walking with heavy loads along its narrow shoulders or in its litter-filled concrete ditch where such existed. At least, none of this is as bad what occured during the civil war, as I´m reading about from Rigoberta Menchu. The volcanoes en route look like the perfect triangular mountains I drew as a kid. The layered agrigulture adds beautiful striated texture to the arid hillsides. The highway is rough, dusty, windy, hilly, and with some steep dropoffs next to the road. Highly scenic. I´m having some technical difficulties transferring photos onto a computer, but will post some good ones when I can. Descriptions of the family I´m staying with, the Juan Sisay school (www.juansisay.com), Xela, and the food here will follow. Unfortunately I´m finding I just don´t have enough time both to do all I want to here and to write about it. Last night I was asleep by 10:30pm, up at 6am, and will likely continue similarly. Off for dinner then homework now. *I´m not sure yet what the correct term is to use, but for now will go with the term Indians, used in the book I´m reading "I... Rigoberta Menchu."

a few photos from lotusland

The first stage of my trip is a few weeks in BC, visiting my parents in 100 Mile House and my sister and some friends in Vancouver and Victoria. I'll just post some photos from this part; although I imagine my entries will be more text-heavy once i'm in Guatemala.

View from the train window, between Edmonton and Jasper, on my way from Toronto to Clearwater, BC.

Me standing on the frozen Horse Lake, where my parents live.

Skiing on Horse Lake

More skiing on Horse Lake. OK enough of that, but the skiing really was great.

decorations for the graduation party my parents threw for me

My parents dancing - aren't they cute?

Skid trail on the woodlot.

My Dad walking with one of the loggers, on a site recently logged for beetle-attacked pine.

A feller-buncher - falls trees and bunches them into piles, very quickly. This machine does the work of probably 10 loggers, but on the upside its precise felling does less damage to retained trees in a selective cut than hand felling. In any case, it seems that the economic realities for a small woodlot operator who is hiring out the looging leave little choice in the matter.