Sunglasses Always Fit

Click-clack-moo! I sit and write this in a power out, which obviously occurred unexpectedly the day after I treated myself to a huge grocery haul at the “fancy” store, which means it has white people needs like goldfish crackers and non-dairy milk and chia seeds. Now I’m sitting in the dark, wondering how much intestinal trouble I’d be in for if I did, in fact, consume both blocks of cheese and the tub of ice cream I bought on a whim, in the name of not wasting the money spent on such luxuries during a blackout.

I’m illuminated by citronella candles, the only kind I’ve been able to find in Guatemala without the Virgin Mary on them, wondering how long these will last, and if I should be conserving them. This makes me wonder how people first made candles, and try to recall my education working at Bath and Body Works, and suddenly I’m desperate for the internet. But breathing through it. Imaginary wafts of Sweet Pea and Cucumber Melon are floating through this air now.

It’s actually kind of exciting, this powerout . . . two of my coworkers live on the same floor as me in their own wee studio apartments, and I think maybe we might sit around and play cards, tell stories in the candlelight, eat snacks and wonder, not for the first or last times, at the circumstances that brought us all here together.

Hong Kong never had power outages, despite our crazy weather. They had built all the important power bits underground, I think, which meant the only time I had a power out was during the historic typhoon that felled trees, shattered glass, destroyed our patio, sliced my roommate’s finger open, and forced us to cook sausages and drink all the beer in the fridge (that might have just been me. I was panicking at the sight of blood). 

We have a lot of weather here in Guatemala – bright morning suns, afternoon rains, nasty winds, dark skies. I like the moodiness. It’s good for snuggling in and doom scrolling Blue Sky (I have canceled twitter) and writing and baking. And people are great about it – we cancel plans all the time because tut tut, it looks like rain. To be fair, there isn’t a drainage system here, and we live on a hill pouring down into the lake, and sidewalks are privately made, which means they don’t really exist, so walking on the roads in bad conditions isn’t a great idea unless you really enjoying your feet swimming in plastic bottles and dog shit. 

I’ve officially been in Panajachel for 95 days and time is going fast. I’ve already had weekend trips away to Antigua, San Pedro, the City, and the small town of Sampango for the kite festival. We’ve been in a town parade, celebrated Day of the Dead and Halloween, and I got bangs! Which, all women know, is a BIG deal.

I have a specific rock I touch down at the water every day when I take my sunset walk. I’ve sustained at least a thousand mosquito bites, know my preferred market lady and favorite gravesite at the cemetery and have successfully baked several goods in my gas stove without setting myself on fire. 

I’ve made no friends outside of work, and am not sure if I will. There’s only 11,000 people in the whole town, and I teach 130 of them, so know 260-ish parents. I did finally have my doctor’s appointment with the father of one of my sets of twins (I always teach twins). He pointed out my weight and prodded all my organs and saw my butt, so. I was anticipating this visit because my coworker went and he looked betwixt the cheeks for possibilities of parasites, and she was administered a shot in the butt for her sinus problems. I’m no expert, but the butt is far from the nasal cavity? And some other fishy things happened, so we were wondering if that was his MO. Alas. He just palpated things front and back because of my diverticulitis history and then we moved on. It was almost disappointing, because I was so ready to cause a scene.

I’ve been to trivia nights and happy hours and played foosball and had signature cocktails and lame conversations, trying to find new people, but it’s so small here that I think I recognize every other expat person now. There are only a few that aren’t creepy old men. And we all go to the same women’s gym! Anyway. 

The thing is – it’s hard enough to make friends as an adult, but also, teachers are a weird bunch. We hang out with kids all day, and then have to lay down and decompress for hours afterwards (I have now passed the 6000th level of Candy Crush), only to continue talking about work all the time. Most of the rest of my stories are about bugs, accidentally drinking the water and wondering if I have a parasite, or the joy of finding something new at the grocery store, like crackers.

Today I texted my sister because I found a High Noon! Joy of joys! Or I can tell you about my landlord’s husband who creeps out of their house on the ground floor every time I enter the building, having watched me approach the security cameras, and says “here she is! The most beautiful woman in Panajachel!” One time the washer and dryer broke while my clothes were drying, and my landlords took my clothes out and into their house and folded them while it was being repaired and I was at work and . . . I was uncomfortable.

Luckily, the friends I’ve made at work are good people. We all did our enneagrams and one girl and I are both sevens, and it has been decided (after one particularly fun evening, when the carnival was in town) that we shouldn’t be allowed unsupervised together, as we’d likely end up on a stage somewhere or accidentally join said carnival. Our little troupe of misfits makes a great travel crew, wine and food and late night chats crew, make someone watch all the “Twilight” movies on the roof crew, “can I borrow this” crew. 

I’ve also had my first teacher flu! I was out for the count, Sunday through Tuesday, and there are few things as miserable as being sick and alone in a foreign country, knowing you can ask your friends to help, but being too independent and stubborn to do so. I videoed my mom for telehealth advice and drank my weight in tea and suffered through it. It was nice to get back to school and my students acted like I had returned from five years at war. They were nice for about two hours and then it was back to general mayhem. 

I didn’t have the energy to be my usual strict self, so I was more patient, and tossed half the lesson plans, and we did a game and some directed drawing of the Wild Robot, and I realized those moments are important, too. Even as I’m freaking out about the huge gaps in their learning. I’m teaching fifth grade, but the reading levels are from pre-K (identifying letters and sounds and sight words) up to sixth grade. The maths is about the same range.

I spend hours crafting amazing plans and differentiation, and then the kids it’s for are off with dengue, the flu, or at a four-day basketball tournament, or at an uncle’s birthday party. So I’m learning to let go a little (ha. I manage SO little.) and try to sprinkle more fun activities in for all our sakes. I made up a game called “Predator” where I am a ragey lion/dinosaur/woman dealing with post-election trauma and they have ten seconds to hide on the playground and act as prey through camouflage. I walk around yelling “YOURE DEAD, SERGIO! Blend in better, next time!” until I find them all. I take a long time finding them when I need a break. It’s great fun. 

Like all other teachers, I’ve been doing the countdown teacher math of days until assessments are over, reports are in, conferences are over, and it’s Thanksgiving break. It feels so weird to not be planning a massive Friendsgiving this year . . . not frantically tracking down specific ingredients for grandma’s potatoes and curating a playlist and hanging a thousand tacky decorations and planning for some organized, competitive fun with my favorite people. This year, I’m going to a beach house in El Salvador, with VEGETARIANS. There isn’t even an oven at the house! Sigh. 

I won’t be attempting to surf like my friends. Those days have passed me by. I will be soaking up the sun and soaking up my wine consumption with pumpkin bread and instant mashed potatoes, playing an updated Friendsgiving playlist and feeling grateful for Guatemala – the new friends, the challenges, speaking Spanish again, the stress falling off my body, beans in a bag, walks by the water. and 445k hits on this little writing project?! thanks for tagging along on the ride. until next time. :)