tienes los ojos de mi sobrina, and so i know it was meant to be

I’m not sure where the time goes in Xela.  Wherever it goes, it goes fast.  I’ve been here a week already, and yesterday was the first time I actually had a moment to stop and write about my time here. 

At first glance, Xela seems a bit rundown, and with all the stories circulating about how dangerous it is, I was a bit nervous about traveling here on my own.  To my delight, I realized rather quickly that my fears were unfounded.  Sure, Xela, like any other city, has its dangers, but how is that any different from New York City or Washington, D.C.?  If you keep your wits about you, you should be fine.

On Tuesday morning, I met Marlo for an orientation around the city, a quick meeting with the organizers of Nuevos Horizontes and a tour of the school.  Marlo is a quintessential Guatemalan mother and she expects you to respect her wishes, just as you’d respect your own mother’s.  In fact, most of the women here treat us girls like their own children, so there’s always an extra set of eyes watching out for us.

While wandering around the city on Tuesday, we stopped by the public college to meet with one of the only professors of socioeconomic studies in Xela.  Marlo is pursuing her Masters degree in education and has chosen to write about Guatemala’s socioeconomic issues.  As she explains it, the private colleges in Guatemala don’t broach socioeconomic issues because Guatemalan’s aren’t really supposed to have an opinion on those matters, not unless you’re leading the country or begging to be killed.  Makes you thankful for the 1^st Amendment, doesn’t it?  Entonces, Marlo wanted to ask for this professor’s critique of her thesis.  For nearly 30 minutes, the professor y Marlo discussed Marlo’s motives for broaching such a delicate issue, and at last, he conceded.  Marlo said he was lenient because I was there.  I don’t doubt it.  Guatemalan men love foreign girls.

I returned to Catalina’s house for lunch, and to prepare myself for my first 5 hour Spanish lesson.  For the first few days, Catalina prepared more food than I could stomach, and, no matter if I’d eaten everything on my plate or not, she was always offering me more.  I guess it’s nice to know that a Latino mother is the same in every country…always in your business and never apologetic about it.

The internet is correct in its description of Spanish school in Xela; it’s unique.  Each student is paired with their own professor and each class progresses based on what you’re lacking on that particular day.  I feel like I’ve learned much more Spanish in the last week than I have in all my years of Spanish classes in the states.  Mariella, my professor, is a trip.  Standing at a total of about 4 feet, you’d never expect the attitude that comes out of this woman.  I loved her from the very first moment that we met, and I loved her even more for walking me home from school until I was absolutely certain I wouldn’t get lost.  Everyone is incredibly kind here.  They don't mind going out of their way to help another.

The abuela de mi casa doesn't say much, but she always shows up when you least expect it.  I arrived home in the early evening, and began to unpack a little before dinner.  After putting my clothes away, I turned around to find abuela standing approximately 3 feet away from me, motioning for me to follow her and reminding me to turn off the light.  I followed her into the kitchen to find Kent, the other student living in the house.  Another thing about Latino women is their unending (and at times, overwhelming) desire to play matchmaker.  And so ended my first full day in Xela, sitting to the left of the 29 year old journalist from Chicago while our new family stared at us, intently watching our every move as if we were two leads in one of the Guatemalan telenovelas we have since grown to love so much.