Okay, maybe the title is a bit too much. But I think it fits.
Just got two new people joining me up in the house where I'm living, and they're from Barcelona in Spain. At first I thought they would be quite difficult, as the first thing they told me was to "clean up" (I tend to live the lazy teenage way when alone). But immediately after that I realized that they are a really friendly bunch, and suddenly I noticed how much nicer things were when I had someone to speak to. Although it's still in Spanish.
They also tend to invite the other teacher at the centre, so suddenly when I went out of my room I found the whole bunch of teachers sitting there in our dining room, and they invited me as well. Seeing as I was just going to cook myself some pasta I was really delighted to join up with them instead. Although I keep getting reminded that my Spanish is still not entirely fluent, that must've been the best dinner here so far!
I got this comment today by one of the Spaniards, named Alfonso I believe, who told me in a bit of a funny way that if I want to learn Spanish I need to be more communicative and pressure myself more. Which I took as an encouraging, "Speak more, you silent Swede!", and immediately after that I found myself sitting down with Per and those two outside the door, eating peanuts and drinking some powder-milk. Realizing I was silent I tried saying a couple of things too, and it was actually an improvement! At least it felt like I was actually learning the language, not just trying to use it.
So yeah, I'm glad these Spaniards came by here too. Truly an improvement to the hermit-ish lifestyle I had this past weekend!
onsdag 20 juli 2011
tisdag 19 juli 2011
06 - And so the real teaching starts
Okay, now the action begins..
Just recently had my second and final computers lesson for this weekend. I feel terribly exhausted. Not only was it my first time teaching more than one person at a time, but it was also in Spanish, and some of them had never even touched a computer before. And on top of that, of course, it had to be five and a half hours (for two days straight!) so that I need to plan ahead A LOT not to make them fall asleep of boredom. I bet MY teachers didn't get such a hard assignment for their first teaching job.
Though I managed, and they seem to be learning something at least, which is what I'm here for. Only this last hour and a half I didn't have anything for them to do except “freely practising” what they have already learned, which seemed to make them pretty bored after an hour of writing into an OpenOffice-table (why can't they be more creative.. ;_;) . So I got them to try Mahjongg instead, a little Chinese puzzle game which comes with the normal Ubuntu 10-package. Indeed, gaming is one of the best ways to learn how to handle a computer. Especially when you need to practise your mouse-aim. Which, unfortunately, is a common problem in my class.
It is quite fascinating sometimes though, especially when I realized that I've grown up in a Swedish generation where everyone can use a computer in a basic manner. And when I say basic, I don't mean what I used to call basic – it took all week before most my students could open up a program without having to tell them every single step. The difference is pretty huge compared to when we had our course in digital art at my school, when the teacher can simply say “Draw a rectangle!” instead of going to every student and point out where to click, and right afterwards having to tell them to HOLD the mouse button down and WHILE it is down DRAG it and then RELEASE the button, to make the rectangle. Oh, and again, he didn't have to tell them to retry it three times because the students can't aim with the mouse.
One thing really surprised me though. At the class yesterday, I gave them a practical exercise. At the lunch break I unplugged all the computers, grabbed one which wasn't in use and when they came back I explained all the different cables for them. And then they got to plug in all the things by themselves. Although I was a bit afraid of anything breaking (I realized how crazy it was when it had already started), they actually managed this part better than many Swedes I know. I guess either my instructions were much better than usual, or these people are better at practical work than with software, which requires more logical and mathematical thinking.
I bet it's like Einstein said: Don't judge a fish by it's ability to climb a tree!
Just recently had my second and final computers lesson for this weekend. I feel terribly exhausted. Not only was it my first time teaching more than one person at a time, but it was also in Spanish, and some of them had never even touched a computer before. And on top of that, of course, it had to be five and a half hours (for two days straight!) so that I need to plan ahead A LOT not to make them fall asleep of boredom. I bet MY teachers didn't get such a hard assignment for their first teaching job.
Though I managed, and they seem to be learning something at least, which is what I'm here for. Only this last hour and a half I didn't have anything for them to do except “freely practising” what they have already learned, which seemed to make them pretty bored after an hour of writing into an OpenOffice-table (why can't they be more creative.. ;_;) . So I got them to try Mahjongg instead, a little Chinese puzzle game which comes with the normal Ubuntu 10-package. Indeed, gaming is one of the best ways to learn how to handle a computer. Especially when you need to practise your mouse-aim. Which, unfortunately, is a common problem in my class.
It is quite fascinating sometimes though, especially when I realized that I've grown up in a Swedish generation where everyone can use a computer in a basic manner. And when I say basic, I don't mean what I used to call basic – it took all week before most my students could open up a program without having to tell them every single step. The difference is pretty huge compared to when we had our course in digital art at my school, when the teacher can simply say “Draw a rectangle!” instead of going to every student and point out where to click, and right afterwards having to tell them to HOLD the mouse button down and WHILE it is down DRAG it and then RELEASE the button, to make the rectangle. Oh, and again, he didn't have to tell them to retry it three times because the students can't aim with the mouse.
One thing really surprised me though. At the class yesterday, I gave them a practical exercise. At the lunch break I unplugged all the computers, grabbed one which wasn't in use and when they came back I explained all the different cables for them. And then they got to plug in all the things by themselves. Although I was a bit afraid of anything breaking (I realized how crazy it was when it had already started), they actually managed this part better than many Swedes I know. I guess either my instructions were much better than usual, or these people are better at practical work than with software, which requires more logical and mathematical thinking.
I bet it's like Einstein said: Don't judge a fish by it's ability to climb a tree!
Extra: The book
(I will be writing these “Extra” updates as well as the normal ones. The difference between them is that these extras are more focused on one thing and will probably be more of interest for certain people)
I'm not sure if any of you recognized the word “Chuj” when I wrote it in the last update. Probably not, seeing as it is one of the native minorities of Guatemala (and I bet most people in Europe can't even point out on the map where this country is). But for those of you who have read the book “The Puma's Daughter*”, or in Swedish “Pumans Dotter”, the protagonist in that story is Chuj.
So, what's so special about that, except maybe that I and many of my classmates read it as a school assignment? Well, to be honest, this whole village is a great spoiler for that book. The story was not only based on the same culture as these people, but also the people themselves. The ones who fled from their home village in The Puma's Daughter were based on these villagers, and the same with Per and the project he started.
I realized this first when I asked him on the way here how he came in contact with this village, and he asked me, “Have you ever read The Puma's Daughter?”, and that was pretty much everything he had to tell me.
Since I hate spoilers myself I'm not going to ruin the book for you who haven't read it and explain it all, but rather suggest that you read it yourself (or at least ask someone who's read it!). But it's fascinating, isn't it? I got to know also that the author was here a couple of weeks ago, and when I met Per for the first time I met her at the same occasion.
*Since I've only read it in Swedish I'm not sure if it's been translated to English, but this is at least what I think it would've been called
I'm not sure if any of you recognized the word “Chuj” when I wrote it in the last update. Probably not, seeing as it is one of the native minorities of Guatemala (and I bet most people in Europe can't even point out on the map where this country is). But for those of you who have read the book “The Puma's Daughter*”, or in Swedish “Pumans Dotter”, the protagonist in that story is Chuj.
So, what's so special about that, except maybe that I and many of my classmates read it as a school assignment? Well, to be honest, this whole village is a great spoiler for that book. The story was not only based on the same culture as these people, but also the people themselves. The ones who fled from their home village in The Puma's Daughter were based on these villagers, and the same with Per and the project he started.
I realized this first when I asked him on the way here how he came in contact with this village, and he asked me, “Have you ever read The Puma's Daughter?”, and that was pretty much everything he had to tell me.
Since I hate spoilers myself I'm not going to ruin the book for you who haven't read it and explain it all, but rather suggest that you read it yourself (or at least ask someone who's read it!). But it's fascinating, isn't it? I got to know also that the author was here a couple of weeks ago, and when I met Per for the first time I met her at the same occasion.
*Since I've only read it in Swedish I'm not sure if it's been translated to English, but this is at least what I think it would've been called
05 - Dangerous roads
To continue with the things Per told me during the beginning of my trip;
When we were driving on the road to Yalambojoch, the things he talked about seemed more and more serious and shocking. After a while he pointed out this place that he had told me about, where a massacre had occurred; a big bunch, I don't remember how many exactly but at least more than ten, of people were killed at that field because of a war between the local cartels. The scary thing was not hearing it, since we Swedes tend to hear about such things on television a lot, but realizing that it's so close was quite shocking for me. It felt as connecting the two worlds, with secure Sweden on one side and the “horrible places we see on television” on the other, mixing it all together in my head. Because, in the end, it is still the same planet, and seeing as I basically went on a “tourist trip” which took me around three days and got me so close to this previous massacre, well... It is closer than I imagined.
And it's not just a one time happening. Have you ever seen a cross on the edge of a dangerous mountain road? Where people have died in Latin America by for example driving off a cliff, they tend to put up these crosses as a memorial. I saw them in the mountains of Peru, but in Guatemala was the first time I had seen it on flat ground. There, Per told me, the crosses were for those who died in battles between the cartels. And this was just a few kilometres from where I am now.
Hang on, it gets worse. Per told me he bought a gun himself for the time when he was threatened by someone because of I think some feud about land. I'm not going to say who it was since I am not sure how much I'm allowed to write without being threatened myself (Per got into trouble with some company he criticized once), but I can say it's someone on a pretty decent level of power.
One last thing before I stop scaring the guts out of my friends (I hope my mother isn't reading this, heheh). I was told there is this rumour, that certain Gringos (that includes me) are after stealing children and taking their body parts. So in certain villages you might get attacked if you're acting strangely. For example, there was a Japanese tourist who was going on a bus trip around the villages, and he was eating an orange with a knife. He saw a kid, and tried offering a piece of orange to him on the tip of the knife. You can guess what happened. He was lynched, the villagers killing both him and the bus driver, for a simple misunderstanding.
(I was told many regretted their actions later, which is understandable. They are still people, not savages)
So, well... This is a pretty exciting trip, isn't it? Of course, here in Yalambojoch they seem way more used to Gringos like me, and have in fact been very friendly so far. Still, I do not dare to take photos down in the village yet. I'll wait with that until later. Still got three weeks left now, aye? <:
¡Nos vemos!
When we were driving on the road to Yalambojoch, the things he talked about seemed more and more serious and shocking. After a while he pointed out this place that he had told me about, where a massacre had occurred; a big bunch, I don't remember how many exactly but at least more than ten, of people were killed at that field because of a war between the local cartels. The scary thing was not hearing it, since we Swedes tend to hear about such things on television a lot, but realizing that it's so close was quite shocking for me. It felt as connecting the two worlds, with secure Sweden on one side and the “horrible places we see on television” on the other, mixing it all together in my head. Because, in the end, it is still the same planet, and seeing as I basically went on a “tourist trip” which took me around three days and got me so close to this previous massacre, well... It is closer than I imagined.
And it's not just a one time happening. Have you ever seen a cross on the edge of a dangerous mountain road? Where people have died in Latin America by for example driving off a cliff, they tend to put up these crosses as a memorial. I saw them in the mountains of Peru, but in Guatemala was the first time I had seen it on flat ground. There, Per told me, the crosses were for those who died in battles between the cartels. And this was just a few kilometres from where I am now.
Hang on, it gets worse. Per told me he bought a gun himself for the time when he was threatened by someone because of I think some feud about land. I'm not going to say who it was since I am not sure how much I'm allowed to write without being threatened myself (Per got into trouble with some company he criticized once), but I can say it's someone on a pretty decent level of power.
One last thing before I stop scaring the guts out of my friends (I hope my mother isn't reading this, heheh). I was told there is this rumour, that certain Gringos (that includes me) are after stealing children and taking their body parts. So in certain villages you might get attacked if you're acting strangely. For example, there was a Japanese tourist who was going on a bus trip around the villages, and he was eating an orange with a knife. He saw a kid, and tried offering a piece of orange to him on the tip of the knife. You can guess what happened. He was lynched, the villagers killing both him and the bus driver, for a simple misunderstanding.
(I was told many regretted their actions later, which is understandable. They are still people, not savages)
So, well... This is a pretty exciting trip, isn't it? Of course, here in Yalambojoch they seem way more used to Gringos like me, and have in fact been very friendly so far. Still, I do not dare to take photos down in the village yet. I'll wait with that until later. Still got three weeks left now, aye? <:
¡Nos vemos!
fredag 15 juli 2011
04 - Getting used to village life
(Like I mentioned before, there's so much to tell, so for variation's sake I'll wait with writing about all the things Per told me about. <: )
Four days have passed since I left Sweden, but I still can't really shake the feeling of being out of place. And I'm not surprised, because this place is simply just.. So much! At least for a city dwelling computer nerd like me. I recently managed to get music going on my laptop (which, by the way, didn't work at all like I had planned. Bloody thing is just too dependent on internet), and when I turned on one of my CD's, in this case Korn's album Follow The Leader, I just got this great kick of happiness. Finally, something enjoyable that I can recognize! I then spent the last hour listening to System of a Down while trying out a new experimental black beans-recipe that I had made up in desperation of something tastier.
Life here in the village is very quiet at the moment, as you might imagine, although today a few interesting things happened. I finally started with my work, having a meeting with Per and some of my students at eight this morning. I was really nervous, partly because I'm still getting used to speaking Spanish most of the time, but most of all because it was my first real meeting with anyone from the village. To my surprise they were pretty shy, and although my short introduction to why I was there was probably pretty dull (I hadn't prepared one bit, didn't even realize I would have to make one), they seemed very grateful for this course in computers they will be having with me and someone else. Also one of my theories was confirmed, when one in the group told me they are Chuj and that Castellano (Another name for Spanish) is not their primary language.
After the meeting I had my second stroll around town trying to look for a place where I could buy tortillas and salt. It took a while and a lot of asking around, but after a while I finally arrived at this small house where I bought eight tortillas and a bag of salt, all for 3 Quetzales* which was the cheapest deal I have made during this whole trip. Then I went to my bed to relax as I felt completely exhausted, but was interrupted by Per knocking on the door and reminding me that I was 30 minutes late for my meeting with him when he was going to introduce me to another student of mine. So I immediately went there with him, and after some walking we arrived in this concrete house where I met this guy who looked a few years younger than me. Then after a short introduction Per went out and I spent a few minutes there talking with him.
It was quite a special moment. He doesn't actually go to school any more as he was relegated (don't ask me why), so I'm there to help him out finishing the studies he has left. So I sat there trying to do my best with my half-fluent Spanish and the knowledge and experience I have of teaching in Sweden (thank you Suzan!), while I was trying to ignore my thoughts about his concrete walls with climbing spiders on them and flies flying around. He seemed like a really nice guy though, and although he was “lazy” in his studies (yeah, who isn't?) he seemed enthusiastic about learning the physics I will be helping him with, which was hopeful. My guess is that he just lacks the discipline to do it all on his own, which is a very common problem that even followed me until the second year of my current school.
There was one thing that annoyed me about that moment, though. I couldn't stop thinking that it reminded me of one of those documentaries you see on TV; some journalist sitting next to a poor person with grey concrete in the background, listening to his or her story of poverty. Thing is, I don't want to think of this place simply as a run-down village in need of help. It is, despite some flaws, a very beautiful place with all of its nature and its very wilful villagers. If I'm going to be here to help I will be doing so as a person and not a prejudicial westerner.
¡Gracias por su atención!
*I have mentioned it before but it's worth mentioning it again: 1 Quetzal is around 0.8 Swedish KR, which makes 3 Quetzales worth less than 3 Swedish bubblegums.
Four days have passed since I left Sweden, but I still can't really shake the feeling of being out of place. And I'm not surprised, because this place is simply just.. So much! At least for a city dwelling computer nerd like me. I recently managed to get music going on my laptop (which, by the way, didn't work at all like I had planned. Bloody thing is just too dependent on internet), and when I turned on one of my CD's, in this case Korn's album Follow The Leader, I just got this great kick of happiness. Finally, something enjoyable that I can recognize! I then spent the last hour listening to System of a Down while trying out a new experimental black beans-recipe that I had made up in desperation of something tastier.
Life here in the village is very quiet at the moment, as you might imagine, although today a few interesting things happened. I finally started with my work, having a meeting with Per and some of my students at eight this morning. I was really nervous, partly because I'm still getting used to speaking Spanish most of the time, but most of all because it was my first real meeting with anyone from the village. To my surprise they were pretty shy, and although my short introduction to why I was there was probably pretty dull (I hadn't prepared one bit, didn't even realize I would have to make one), they seemed very grateful for this course in computers they will be having with me and someone else. Also one of my theories was confirmed, when one in the group told me they are Chuj and that Castellano (Another name for Spanish) is not their primary language.
After the meeting I had my second stroll around town trying to look for a place where I could buy tortillas and salt. It took a while and a lot of asking around, but after a while I finally arrived at this small house where I bought eight tortillas and a bag of salt, all for 3 Quetzales* which was the cheapest deal I have made during this whole trip. Then I went to my bed to relax as I felt completely exhausted, but was interrupted by Per knocking on the door and reminding me that I was 30 minutes late for my meeting with him when he was going to introduce me to another student of mine. So I immediately went there with him, and after some walking we arrived in this concrete house where I met this guy who looked a few years younger than me. Then after a short introduction Per went out and I spent a few minutes there talking with him.
It was quite a special moment. He doesn't actually go to school any more as he was relegated (don't ask me why), so I'm there to help him out finishing the studies he has left. So I sat there trying to do my best with my half-fluent Spanish and the knowledge and experience I have of teaching in Sweden (thank you Suzan!), while I was trying to ignore my thoughts about his concrete walls with climbing spiders on them and flies flying around. He seemed like a really nice guy though, and although he was “lazy” in his studies (yeah, who isn't?) he seemed enthusiastic about learning the physics I will be helping him with, which was hopeful. My guess is that he just lacks the discipline to do it all on his own, which is a very common problem that even followed me until the second year of my current school.
There was one thing that annoyed me about that moment, though. I couldn't stop thinking that it reminded me of one of those documentaries you see on TV; some journalist sitting next to a poor person with grey concrete in the background, listening to his or her story of poverty. Thing is, I don't want to think of this place simply as a run-down village in need of help. It is, despite some flaws, a very beautiful place with all of its nature and its very wilful villagers. If I'm going to be here to help I will be doing so as a person and not a prejudicial westerner.
¡Gracias por su atención!
*I have mentioned it before but it's worth mentioning it again: 1 Quetzal is around 0.8 Swedish KR, which makes 3 Quetzales worth less than 3 Swedish bubblegums.
03 - Back to reality
Just had my first real sleep ever since the night before I went away. Probably slept for around ten hours straight, going to bed relatively early since I'm going to have to change my schedule a bit to fit this village's routines.
Did I say village? Yep. I arrived here yesterday, after only a bit more than a three hours' travelling by car. During the whole trip from Huehuetenango to Yalambojoch I stayed awake, asking questions to the driver, named Per, who is also sort of the leader of this centre where I'm staying. There was so much to learn about this place that I didn't even once feel like reading the book I had in my hand, and so many things to look at from the window that I always kept my camera trigger ready to snap some photos whenever something popped up.
I guess the reason for that is because up until the villages, I had felt at least remotely familiar – in the capital with all its western luxuries, and Huehuetenango with its similar Cusco-feeling. But now, when I'm here in the village, everything is so very new and stunning that I feel like just lying on my bed and dissolving myself in my Harry Potter-book and letting all things in my head settle.
Per started off with some fascinating facts that I've read about in school about agriculture. It seems like the coffee plantations here are grown together with trees, in a mixed fashion, instead of the mono-cultural ways they do it in for example Brazil. This, I believe, is much better since it makes for a stronger ecosystem, although they might just be doing it to prevent the earth on the mountains from eroding and falling off the cliff.
Then I was told about a few traffic accidents while we were driving around on the road right next to a steep cliff. There was one bus accident, he told me and pointed his finger to the spot where it had happened, where the driver just forgot to turn and went straight down killing over forty passengers. Luckily it didn't really frighten me much as I had experienced the “roads” in the Andes in Peru. What was quite shocking, however, was his open way of talking about deaths in the area around there. You'll notice when I get to the later part of Per's stories.
We passed a little gun shop around halfway, and there I was told that with my tourist visa I was allowed to buy three guns at a time (with the exception of no automatics). The shop was also selling booze. I figured it made the perfect macho mix – guns and alcohol in one! Quite frightening morals, though.
In the same village, also, he pointed towards these people selling petrol on the road, scattered around everywhere for around one quarter of the way to our destination. Apparently they were selling smuggled fuel from Mexico, and three times when we passed certain roads he told me they were used as smuggling roads. The first one was full of policemen, who indeed weren't there to stop anyone from smuggling but were there to take bribes from everyone passing through. And this was just one example of how corrupt this country is. The second and third roads I believe were blockaded by the villagers themselves, demanding a very small fee (I think around 50-100 Quetzales*), making it cheaper than the policemen so that some might choose to take that road instead.
Yes, now in the beginning of my trip Guatemala certainly seems to be a country that lacks control over its systems. But I'll tell more of that later, since I figure it will probably be too much to write, both for you readers and for my poor European head. So I'll wait with the even more shocking things for later. For now, I think I'll enjoy my safe little haven here in this beautiful, calm village, and try to cook some black beans for myself. Hopefully they'll taste better this time..
¡Hasta luego!
*1 Quetzal is around 0.8 SEK or about 0.2 USD
Did I say village? Yep. I arrived here yesterday, after only a bit more than a three hours' travelling by car. During the whole trip from Huehuetenango to Yalambojoch I stayed awake, asking questions to the driver, named Per, who is also sort of the leader of this centre where I'm staying. There was so much to learn about this place that I didn't even once feel like reading the book I had in my hand, and so many things to look at from the window that I always kept my camera trigger ready to snap some photos whenever something popped up.
I guess the reason for that is because up until the villages, I had felt at least remotely familiar – in the capital with all its western luxuries, and Huehuetenango with its similar Cusco-feeling. But now, when I'm here in the village, everything is so very new and stunning that I feel like just lying on my bed and dissolving myself in my Harry Potter-book and letting all things in my head settle.
Per started off with some fascinating facts that I've read about in school about agriculture. It seems like the coffee plantations here are grown together with trees, in a mixed fashion, instead of the mono-cultural ways they do it in for example Brazil. This, I believe, is much better since it makes for a stronger ecosystem, although they might just be doing it to prevent the earth on the mountains from eroding and falling off the cliff.
Then I was told about a few traffic accidents while we were driving around on the road right next to a steep cliff. There was one bus accident, he told me and pointed his finger to the spot where it had happened, where the driver just forgot to turn and went straight down killing over forty passengers. Luckily it didn't really frighten me much as I had experienced the “roads” in the Andes in Peru. What was quite shocking, however, was his open way of talking about deaths in the area around there. You'll notice when I get to the later part of Per's stories.
We passed a little gun shop around halfway, and there I was told that with my tourist visa I was allowed to buy three guns at a time (with the exception of no automatics). The shop was also selling booze. I figured it made the perfect macho mix – guns and alcohol in one! Quite frightening morals, though.
In the same village, also, he pointed towards these people selling petrol on the road, scattered around everywhere for around one quarter of the way to our destination. Apparently they were selling smuggled fuel from Mexico, and three times when we passed certain roads he told me they were used as smuggling roads. The first one was full of policemen, who indeed weren't there to stop anyone from smuggling but were there to take bribes from everyone passing through. And this was just one example of how corrupt this country is. The second and third roads I believe were blockaded by the villagers themselves, demanding a very small fee (I think around 50-100 Quetzales*), making it cheaper than the policemen so that some might choose to take that road instead.
Yes, now in the beginning of my trip Guatemala certainly seems to be a country that lacks control over its systems. But I'll tell more of that later, since I figure it will probably be too much to write, both for you readers and for my poor European head. So I'll wait with the even more shocking things for later. For now, I think I'll enjoy my safe little haven here in this beautiful, calm village, and try to cook some black beans for myself. Hopefully they'll taste better this time..
¡Hasta luego!
*1 Quetzal is around 0.8 SEK or about 0.2 USD
torsdag 7 juli 2011
From one city to another
Okay, so I'm ALMOST there. Just arrived at my last stop before Yalambojoch in a city called Huehuetenango, which sort of reminds me of Cusco, the city where I lived when I visited Peru. It's got these really stuffed roads with crazy drivers, small walkways and in the middle of everything a wonderful market with people selling all kinds of stuff. I really enjoyed the part when I realized how much food is locally produced, which is something that surely improved my cooking enthusiasm (despite lacking dairy products and soy sauce >: ).
Also, speaking of locally produced, here's something that will make many of my friends back in Sweden VERY jealous: Guatemala is THE coffee country of Central America! In fact, I recently tasted the most fantastic coffee in my life, which was a cappuccino in a local café. As soon as I took my first sip, I was struck by the thought, "Is THIS how coffee is supposed to taste?!" It didn't even have the slightest hint of bitterness! Locally produced and locally roasted, it is even so that I will be driving past that certain place where they grew just that coffee that I drank tomorrow. And I WILL take photos. (:
Except for this, not much happened today. I had a gigantic breakfast at the hotel, almost at awesome as the coffee, but then also breakfast is always awesome (although it's not every morning that you get a never ending buffet with around 10 different freshly cooked meals, countless cookies, loads of different types of bread, et cetera..). Then I had a really nice chat with the people on the bus station, almost all in (mostly) fluent Spanish. An elderly man gave me a cup of coffee for free when I was sitting there practising my guitar, telling me to play louder, and another guy was about my age and had a great taste for music. Almost felt like staying there for a while, but then my bus was going and I had to leave. Then I spent the next five hours half-sleeping, half-reading Harry Potter on the bus.
That's probably everything I have on my mind right now. And to the people who tried to comment but couldn't because you didn't have a google account, that's fixed now. So comment away!
Buenas tardes y noches!
Also, speaking of locally produced, here's something that will make many of my friends back in Sweden VERY jealous: Guatemala is THE coffee country of Central America! In fact, I recently tasted the most fantastic coffee in my life, which was a cappuccino in a local café. As soon as I took my first sip, I was struck by the thought, "Is THIS how coffee is supposed to taste?!" It didn't even have the slightest hint of bitterness! Locally produced and locally roasted, it is even so that I will be driving past that certain place where they grew just that coffee that I drank tomorrow. And I WILL take photos. (:
Except for this, not much happened today. I had a gigantic breakfast at the hotel, almost at awesome as the coffee, but then also breakfast is always awesome (although it's not every morning that you get a never ending buffet with around 10 different freshly cooked meals, countless cookies, loads of different types of bread, et cetera..). Then I had a really nice chat with the people on the bus station, almost all in (mostly) fluent Spanish. An elderly man gave me a cup of coffee for free when I was sitting there practising my guitar, telling me to play louder, and another guy was about my age and had a great taste for music. Almost felt like staying there for a while, but then my bus was going and I had to leave. Then I spent the next five hours half-sleeping, half-reading Harry Potter on the bus.
That's probably everything I have on my mind right now. And to the people who tried to comment but couldn't because you didn't have a google account, that's fixed now. So comment away!
Buenas tardes y noches!
Prenumerera på:
Inlägg (Atom)