- This is a story about My Guatemala Trip. While we lived in Tucson, it came turn for the Diocese of Arizona to host the Triennial National Convention of the Episcopal Church. as the Diocese prepared for this big event they felt the pressure of being in a state with a large ‘Hispanic population and only one Spanish speaking mission. Our little, mission, The Chapel of the Resurrection had been planted in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood but was English speaking and had an Anglo membership. The Bishop’s officer asked me to get language training and left it up to me to find an immersion program as quickly as possible.
Flying to Guatemala City
Not realizing there would be much difference in Guatemalan Spanish and Mexican, I chose a program in Antigua Guatemala that had openings sooner than others. In Mexico. Early in January I boarded a plane that would take me to Guatemala City, via Houston, Texas. It was my first and only trip out of the country completely on my own to a country where I did not yet speak the language. My first impression of the Third World was not positive. As our plane landed I realized the small building of about one and a half stories was the airport tower and the man on the ground with his hands on his ears was trying to direct the pilot with his elbows. I did my best to remain calm. However, as I stood to deplane I realized my bowels had turned to water and I needed el bano immediately. Thank God one was available before the customs checking point.
Nawass Travel
I had been given a rather large name tag with Nawass Travel in bold letters above my name. As I headed for my luggage I wondered how I would know my limousine driver? There was only one baggage area and it was cut off from all but passengers. There was a balcony surrounding the area that was filled with family and friends awaiting passengers. Among them I spotted two rather rough looking men who seemed to be eyeing me with curiosity and interest. It did not help that I had recently seen the movie Romancing The Stone. I have a vivid imagination and wondered if I need be extra careful not to be kidnapped for ransom. I finally found my luggage and was heading for the exit. The doors only opened outwards and had no windows, but they seemed to bulge outward now and the. To reveal a press of a crowd on the other side. Again I wondered how I might find my ride in all that commotion, when all of a sudden a man in uniform tried to take my luggage. I fought him for it briefly, until I realized he was part of the customs process and wanted to inspect my luggage. Eventually I made it outside only to be confronted by one of the two surly men, “Nawass Travel” one of them said in heavily accented English. “You comes with us.” Just then the other drove up in a tiny old beat up pickup, a Dotson or similar make. One through my suitcase in the pack and hopped in the other got in the drivers seat and motioned me to enter. Against my better judgement I complied.
My Home for the month
I need not have worried an hour later they deposited me at the door step of the vacation home of a member the countries Supreme Court. My travel agent was a friend of his and used this home to house students for the language school. It was apparently the off season. I was the only guest the entire month of my stay. I was greated by the cook who spoke no English and shown to my room. Tired from my trip I unpacked and went to bed. Next morning I had a full breakfast. It was the only meal included with the accommodations but it was always a big breakfast and filling.
Learning with Alan
Soon my tutor Alan arrived. His English was passible and I was able to understand him. We went together to the school. It was nothing more that a large room full of small green desks. There were perhaps twenty other students and tutors. When it came time for lunch Alan and I had a discussion which resulted in a mutually agreeable outcome. He suggested we meet at the hacienda for lessons. I suggested he stay with me through lunch. I would pay him for the extra hour by buying him lunch. In order for this to fit my budget, I skipped dinner. This was not a great hardship as the cook took pity on me and gave me an evening snack and that huge breakfast. It was well worth the small sacrifice on my part to et more flavor of the culture and more casual time with Alan. I was 42 at the time and Alan I half my age. He seemed older than me, with wrinkles and a weariness. Then I met his mother who was my age and she seemed old enough to be my mother.
Honduras
On that first day at the school I had met a few other students. There was a couple ,from Canada, a young college student from California, and a Roman Catholic Deacon from D.C. They had arranged for a mini-bus to drive them to the Aztec ruins in Honduras of the weekend. I hadn’t thought ahead about this kind of side trip, but thought “I’m not coming this way again, so why not?” Early Saturday morning I was waiting for the Mini-bus and group to pick me up. Instead, Carlo and his 20 year old Ford Fairlane “Taxi” came to get me. I was confused. I had only a couple of days lessons and Carlo had no English. He took me to the school were the rest of the group waited. When I asked about the min-bus, they told me it was too expensive and they had recruited Carlos instead. We decided to go anyway and the six of us crammed into the Ford. Before long we realized that lots of other people were on the highway. The roads were crowded because this was the weekend of then Festival of the Negro Christo ( Black Christ) in the Honduran City of Escapulis. Our first adventure came when we reached the border crossing. There we vehicles from all over Central America converging here from Mexico, Costa Rico, Guatemala, and Nicaragua. I was intereesed in the latter in that the civil war in Nicaragua was much in the news at the time. I walked over to a bus and took out my trusty Pentex 1000 SLR and took some pictures of then license plate. All of a sudden a man ran off the bus and rushed up into my personal space, speaking rapidly in Spanish. Flustered, I could not remember to say, “Mas Despacio, por favor.” (much slower please). So I asked the Deacon to say it for me. The man responded immediate and very slowly in perfect English, ” F o r w h a t n e w s p a p e r is that photo graph?” We had a good laugh and explained as best we could that we were not reporters. On our way we stopped in Esquipulas Guatemala for the festival of the Negro Christos: The Black Crucifix. I stood out like a sore thumb being head and shoulders taller than everyone. At the ruins our tour guide was humorous and knowledge able.
No Phone Home
The only available phones were at that building called the Guatelle. I tried to call my wife Lily, but she was not home. I tried to leave a message on the answering machine but you didn’t get it; so I send a telegram instead. As it turns out, the telegram didn’t arrive until a month later after I was already home. She was quite worried, not having any contact from me for a month. However, I didn’t notice till I got home.. I also took a side trip with Alan and his son. That too, was quite an adventure, traveling by old American school bus. The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. I enjoyed my time and got souvenirs for lit and friends. Oh, there was one other incident. I ran out of cash and went to the bank to cash in some travelers checks. However, they did not honor them because I didn’t realize that I had changed my signature between the time I got my travelers checks, and when I signed them at the bank since the signatures weren’t exact duplicates, they wouldn’t cash them. Fortunately, I had more checks and they had another bank. When I got home, I was so happy to be there that when I got off the plane, I literally got down on my knees and kiss the ground. Click here for another travel story/
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