San Pedro La Laguna:There is a cantalope in my purse

Hay un melon en mi bolsa

Hay un melon en mi bolsa

Estaba huevos tambien

Pero yo aprende que

La bolsa no es un buen lugar para mantener los huevos

A menos que le gusten huevos revueltos

There is a cantaloupe in my purse

There used to be eggs too

But I learned that

A purse is no place to keep eggs

Unless you like them scrambled.

This post is pretty much just about food and the simple life here in San Pedro La Laguna.

This is my house in San Pedro La Laguna. It has a stove, a table, shelves, and a bed. Turns out, that is all I really need.

This is Lake Atitlan from the shores of San Pedro La Laguna.

This is the volcano right by my house. It is called, not surprisingly, Volcano San Pedro.

There are several other volcanoes that circle the lake as well.

This is the Volcano San Pedro and the town of San Pedro La Laguna from the town of San Marcos La Laguna.

This is me in San Marcos La Laguna with San Pedro La Laguna behind me.

About 13,000 people call San Pedro La Laguna home. There are two parts to San Pedro La Laguna, Gringo-landia (I am not making this name up) and part the Mayas live in up on the hill (there are very few, if any, folks of Spanish decent here). Gringo-landia is kinda like Pearl Street in Boulder or any other hip, young, hippy playground. And the gringos, like the folks in Boulder, must be reminded with frequent signage that drugs are generally not allowed.

Gringo-landia is pretty much the entire lake-front. Someone told me that the Mayas had no moral problems selling the land to the first enterprising visitors as the land regularly floods and is pretty useless for agriculture. Who knows if this is true though. Nevertheless, it is absolutely gorgeous and so very serene. The other day I got this at sunset in a café where I knew better than to order red curry, yet did it anyway:

In general I don’t really hit up gringo-landia much cause it is so much more expensive, but occasionally I will eat on one of the many many restaurants there cause sometimes you just need spaghetti carbonara and a brownie sundae (those, for those of you who are counting, were great).

I kinda fell in love with this painting the other day at the artists house right on the lake, so I bought it on the spot, which is something I never do. I think I really just like the symmetry and texture in it.

Most days I get up around 7:15, boil an egg and some water for oatmeal then slice up a mango or banana. Then I do all the dishes, check my email, tidy up, and am usually studying on my patio by 8:30. I study for a couple hours and then walk up (and I mean up) to the market which is generally the highlight of my day cause the food is so good. I buy veggies and fruit and tortillas, to make my typical meal of diced tomatoes, avocados, beans, tortillas and a fruit of the day.

But every now and then I buy some prepared food like beans and rice, fried chicken, tostadas, or today, tamales. They call tamales something different here, so it took me a good week to figure out that’s what they were trying to sell me.

Then one of the teachers here told me they are made with horse meat, and he didn't crack up like he was kidding. So I guess I don't know, I suppose I kinda believe him but also really don't. I am gonna choose to think they contain cow or pig. Although if I really think about it, I think I like live pigs more than live horses, so perhaps if it is horse, it might be ok. And if it was a horse, that horse was dead long before I came along, I was just making sure it wasn't going to waste...waste not, want not...

I also frequently get fresh OJ (which is definitely not from a horse) which in its to-go form comes in a plastic baggie with a straw and my god is it ever good. The oranges are green here, at least on the outside, and so so sweet.

This is my typical haul from the market.

Don’t worry, I don’t usually eat all this in one day. Usually.

When I am at the market, I usually buy things and place them directly into my purse, no plastic bags required, but there are limitations on what I can squeeze into there. For instance, today I bought a cantaloupe first. It was kinda small, so it fit no problem. Then I bought a pound of tomatoes. And again, no problem. Then I bought three tamales, eight tortillas, two mangos, a packet of refried beans, honey, a box of pineapple juice, and three eggs. It was then that I had the problem. And as I learned the hard way a few days ago, under no circumstances should eggs be placed into your purse. Even if you think you are careful, there is no way you are careful enough.

You walk by this building and this cornfield on little footpaths to get Gringo-landia. I don’t have pictures of the Mayan part of town as I don’t want to get accosted for steeling souls again.

The market is pretty awesome. You can pretty much get whatever your heart desires, though I have been staying away from the meat. I’m just not ready to try to order parts of a chicken or cow (or horse?) and then cook it. And honestly, based on the smell in that part of the market, doing such a thing might be pushing my intestinal luck a bit much.

After I get back from the market I study some more, usually for an hour at most, and then my class begins at 1pm. It goes ‘til 5. For the most part, we just talk or read out loud. We hit up some grammar, but honestly, I know the grammar already, and I just need practice putting the thoughts together. I prefer to write as it gives my brain time to work though a whole sentence, but we mostly just talk, which is probably what I actually need help with the most.

This is an outdoor classroom, though not one at my school. But it gives the general idea. I need a picture of me and my teacher, but I don’t have one yet.

I am somewhat frustrated though as I don’t feel like my brain has frantically switched over to Spanish yet like it did in Panama. Perhaps it is because speaking Spanish isn’t a frantic task anymore as I have gotten pretty used to it (though not good at it). However, I rarely have trouble getting what I need in the market, the store, the restaurant, on the street, etc. so I suppose I am making progress. And in fact, the other day when I was on the bus over here to San Pedro, a preacher got on the bus and gave a 15 minute sermon and I pretty much understood every word. Granted he was a preacher so spoke very clearly and most of the words were “god” “jesus” “love” “devil” and “save”. But I did it.

After class I cook dinner. Usually it is some derivative of my lunch including tomatoes, beans, and tortillas or pasta. I cooked up this great pasta the other night: sauté/boil half a giant carrot, two roma tomatoes, half an onion, and salt in about a half a cup of water until the carrots are soft-ish and you are sure you killed all the bacteria on the onion. Add boiled pasta. Eat. Deliciousoso.

At night I often study for a bit more or read. There are some kicking places to go out in gringo-landia but I am pretty content just sitting at my house, going over verb conjugations, and listening to the crickets and frogs. Well actually, there are hardly any tourists around these parts right now. Its the off season, and I think with the crappy economy, most people just aren't traveling. Oh, and there are lightening bugs here too! How cool.

Sometimes I do cool things though. Like on Sunday my neighbor and I went to the festival in San Marcos (across the lake). They had been having a fair for four days and we went on the final night. It was a pretty great experience. First we saw this dance.

I asked a number of people what was going on, but no one really seemed to know. We watched for about ten minutes and then left. When we came back an hour and a half later, the exact same thing was still going on, so yeah, the only thing I really know about it is that it is an endurance sport.

They all have masks that resemble the faces of Europeans, and their costumes, to me look like 16^th century noblemen , but not one person told me anything about the Spanish or the conquistadors or anything, so who knows. But I do know, there is one very small man dressed like a bull and all the conquistador-like gentlemen sometimes take turns pretending to be bullfighters. Hmm.

In addition, at the fair there was this Ferriswheel. It was run by an old tire hub, a rope, and a diesel generator. I did not go on it.

Then we got this phenomenal sunset. I did not change the color in this picture one bit.

Then we ate. I love carnival food. Tacos and corn on the cob and cookie thingies. Yummy. Then we watched a bunch of drunk men dance with one another. Apparently the ladies are too reserved to jump in and the men too drunk to be trusted.

So to get to San Marcos we took a boat. But, the last boat back to San Pedro is at 7 pm which is well before my neighbor wanted to go back. I petitioned for the boat because it was safe and easy, but he convinced me to try something new. So we took a pick-up back. Basically these run as unofficial busses around and between towns. There is a pick-up truck, outfitted with a frame on the back. Everyone climbs in the back, and rides, standing up, holding onto the metal frame. It was exceptionally nice last night, fresh, and clear, so it was a lovely experience. Most of the roads are one-lane, and have speed limits of 25 mph so it was relatively calm with the wind blowing through my hair as we wound up and down the hills between the two pueblos. No pictures of this either, sorry.