¨Lassie¨ saves the day (i.e., my second mishap)

It´s hard to believe how much has transpired in the last few days. I find that, as much as I thought I would have plenty of leisure time to sit in sidewalk cafes and browse books, review spanish vocabulary, and watch the people pass by, my life here is full and busy much like my life in Winter Park was. Perhaps I somehow prefer it to be that way . . .

Yesterday I hiked to Laguna Chicabal with one of the teachers at our school and three other students. We took a public bus about 45 minutes outside of Xela to San Martin, a small agricultural village where they primarily grow corn and potates, but I was also psyched to see remolachas (beets! my favorite) and lots of other fresh vegetables. As soon as we got out of the microbus and started climbing, I felt two things: the altitude (we were over 8,000 feet) and a strong desire to get out of the city on a more permanent basis.

Then last night I attended a free concert at the Teatro Municipal with my familia. (Hint--this is where mishap #2 begins.) I went to the concert with my friend Rachel (from Philly) and my family, and after about an hour Rachel and I left to meet some other students. We had a beer but we were pretty tired so we headed home. I got home and let myself in with my key as on many other nights, and dead-bolted and chained the door from the inside, and went to bed.

In the midst of deep sleep, I heard the dog, Pongie, barking rather enthusiastically considering it was the middle of the night. He continued on for quite some time and I began to wonder what was causing him such consternation. Then I began wondering why no one else in the family had been woken up by the racket. Which led me to wonder--was anyone else home?

It was a this point that the horrific truth hit me: I had locked my Guatemalan family out of their own home. I sprang out of bed, noticing that it was 12:23 am, and went for the door. Huddled on the step was the five of them (it was cold!) and immediately of course Maya, the mom, started telling me how nice I was to open the door for them. I felt horrible. I kept telling them that I thought everyone was home already or else I would never have locked the door. I asked how long they had been waiting, and the mom said, ¨only about half-an-hour¨ to which one of the daughters replied, ¨more like an hour.¨ Today, the oldest daugher, Dulce, told me that they thought they were going to have to sleep on the street.

So we´re going out for dinner tonight. I am treating. And they are letting me stick around for another week, but they made sure to get my phone number in case of emergencies.

Stay tuned for my first encounter with a pick-pocket soon! You´ve all read enough for now!