Prologue

Day One

We got up at 4am to catch the 6:40 flight to Ft Lauderdale. Because of the switch to mountain time we were in Guatemala by 12:30 in the afternoon. The highlight upon arrival was Caleb's toy soldier going round and round the luggage carousel. The Yanks had arrived.

We grabbed a taxi to Antigua and were able to board a 2pm shuttle van to San Pedro. Guatemala is extremely mountainous. Many roads were still washed out from Hurricane Stan and Tropical Storm Agatha. The steep descent down to Lago Atitlan was terrifying in the cramped minivan. My legs had been folded against my chest since we left LaGuardia. Caleb got car sick halfway down the mountain. All the young travelers were sympathetic and we pulled over for the poor little guy to puke his guts out on the side of the road.

Shortly thereafter we reached San Pedro La Laguna, a small town lined with Tourist shops and Handicraft stalls. We asked directions and headed off to the school. With a stroke of luck we met the director Vincente at the appointed time of 6pm, and he walked us over to our host family.

Elena and Juan have a hotel / restaurant complex near the Santiago dock. It being rainy season we were the only guests, although a few Guatemalans showed up during our stay. Our room doubled as one of their daughter's bedrooms. With a built-in bathroom it was one of the nicer rooms in the house. The stuccoed cinderblock walls were brightly painted. Clouds and sky were airbrushed on the ceiling. The diamond top doors featured glass windows and animal carvings. It was dank and dirty compared to what we were used to. The restaurant doubled as the family's kitchen, living room, and a family run store. There were actually 2 kitchens. The largest had a gas stove and a large cement sink for washing dished. The smaller kitchen, located right behind our room, had a wood burning stove where the tortillas were prepared. The restaurant's dining room had many tables, as well as a large TV equipped with cable.

Elena informed us that we would be eating out meals with the family. Her husband, Juan, was skipper on one of the Santiago bound boats. Their oldest daughter Carla was 22, and was studying accounting in Quetzaltenengo. Their oldest son Juan was 13, and was a student at a local private school. I can't remember the name of their 3 year-old daughter- the one who would wake the house every morning precisely at 6am screaming for her mother. Despite this she was adorable. They also had a 2 month old little girl who spent much of her time being rocked in a hammock and suckling her mother's bosom. It was apparent that this family was well-to-do. They had a nice business establishment in a central location, and Juan had an esteemed position. Both parents and the 2 oldest children carried cell phones. They had many electronic gadgets and fine furnishings.

Our first meal consisted of eggs, refried beans, and tortillas. Our beverage was a curious concoction of warm oatmeal. After dinner Caleb and I wandered over to the Buddah bar- a gringo owned and frequented establishment where Caleb had spotted a pool table. This would become our nightly hang-out. After one game we called it a night and headed back to the house for some well deserved sleep.

Day Two

Our first morning in San Pedro we awoke the cries of a screaming little girl and the clapping sounds of tortilla preparation. It was time to get up and go to Spanish school. I hustled Caleb out of bed and we headed next door for breakfast. Mmmm! Nothing beats fresh tortillas, fried eggs, refried beans, and coffee for breakfast! It was great to be back in Central America!

After our meal we meandered through the town's small lanes and paths to our Spanish school - the site of which was actually a lush garden of flowers, palms, banana and lime trees. The ground was littered with stone carvings and Mayan architectural elements. The 'classrooms' consisted of intimate open air stations comfortably spread throughout the garden.

Each student is paired with an individual instructor. We couldn't have been paired with a more perfect match. As I entered the garden, Vincente whispered to me that I was very luck to be getting a very beautiful teacher. The description was spot on. Flora completely charmed me. I enjoyed every moment I spent with her. Caleb was paired with Nicholas - a hip young guy who taught Caleb all the cool local handshakes. Unfortunately Caleb was resistant, and remained so for the duration of the week. There were a handful of American students, whom we met at the morning snack break.

School ended at noon, and we headed back to Elena's for lunch. Afterwards we took a boat across the bay to San Marcos in search of a swimming hole taht we had heard about. We were able to see the large jumping rocks from the boat. Saan Marcos is a tiny and quiet hamlet filled with new-aged gringos offering yoga, massage, spas, and trendy eateries.

Upon our arrival we took the wrong path, got stuck in a garbage ditch, and ended up at the hut of a stoned-out massage therapist. He directed us to the jumping rocks - which were enormous - about 30 feet high! A group of Israeli guys were there daring each other to jump. Only one of them had the courage - or stupidity (depending on which way you want to see it). Caleb waisted no time and took the plunge. I couldn't believe it. Nobody could. Caleb 'served' us all. He climbed back up the rock and pleaded with me to jump. I was terrified. The other chicken / intelligent (depending on how you want to see it) guys were unable to be convinced to jump. Caleb quickly took another plunge. I found my way down to the 10 foot rock and gave that a try. After five of Caleb's 30 foot jumps I finally got up the nerve. I did it, survived, and didn't need to further prove myself to my 10 year old.

Later we found ourselves a little place for a snack, before heading back to San Pedro for dinner at Elena's, and 8 ball at the Buddah bar. On the way home from the bar, Caleb somehow managed to kick his sandal over an 8 foot tall wall. I hoisted him over into the pitch dark garden. He would have to tread back on one sandal. We would find the lost one in the morning.

Day Three

Caleb's lack of interest in Spanish classes inspired Nicholas to suggest a field trip on Wednesday. We took a 'chicken bus' back up the curvy mountain road to Santa Clara and hiked to the top of the nose of the 'Indian Face'.

We passed scores of women collecting firewood we follwed the trail through corn and coffee groves besides tall trees laden with avocados. We climbed a small wooded observation tower at the summit where I suffered vertigo and Caleb threw paper airplanes.

On the way back down from Santa Clara we decided to catch a ride in the back of a pick-up truck- standing, as is custom in Central America. The second leg of the trip was in a 3 wheeled tuk-tuk taxi, where Caleb got to ride in the front seat. Unlike the tourist van, he had no car sickness issues this time down the steep curvy washed out road to San Pedro. Prior to this trip Caleb had thought that a mud slide was a kids ride.

That afternoon we headed back over to San Marcos where we were joined by our friends from the tourist van on the first day. I was impressed that all but one of the girls took the 30 foot plunge. I stuck to the 10' rock that day.

Buddah bar was closed that night. We settled on an Internet cafe and an ice cream.

Day Four

We spent the morning in Spanish class. In addition to working on my verb tenses, I pressed Flora to tell me more about herself and her life in San Pedro.

Like practically everyone there she would like to come to the United States. She told me a number of stories about friends and acquaintances who had successfully made the trip to the US. To illegally be transported costs the equivalent of $5,000, which takes about 2 years to save up. The journey takes 18 days, culminating in the Arizona desert where only the coyotes know the way. The 'coyote' system is complexly organized and is reminiscent of the underground railroad. Once an illegal reaches Phoenix, a ride is arranged to the final destination - anywhere in the country. Another way for an attractive young woman is to accept a gringo's hand in marriage. Many older men scour the country side in search of a bride. I mentioned to Flora that Caleb had 2 friends who were adopted from Guatemala, representing another immigration option, for children that is. Guatemalans, by the way, are extremely displeased with Obama's stand on immigration. Don't get me started.

That afternoon to Caleb's delight, I received homework. Elena and Juan were amused as well. After lunch I refused to return again to San Marcos and insisted on a different destination. Flora had told me about a thermally heated pool on the far side of the lake, not far from Panajachel. A boat captain at the San Pedro dock offered to take us there for $50. It sounded expensive, so we opted for public transport. We ended up on a 'local' boat to Pana, stopping at every single village around the lake. Although I found the foreign owned luxury vacation homes interesting, and the verdant hillsides beautiful- the trip took forever. At Panajachel there was no other option than to hire a private boat, which cost $30 to go 15 minutes.

Upon arrival we were informed that the 'aguas thermales' were best visited in the morning. Shade, wind, and water currents significantly diminish the heat in the afternoon. We jumped off the boat and swam over to the shore where a family was bathing. The water was freezing! We clung to the warm rocks and dug our hands and feet into the steaming crevices as we were bombarded with cold choppy waves. We should have gone to San Marcos. On the way back I talked to the boat's captain, who it turns out was Juan's cousin and who lived next door to where we were staying. A captain on the Pana docks recognized Caleb from the San Marcos rocks and called out to him by name. We headed into Pana for a soda and a beer where I haggled with a woman for beautiful fabrics to pass the time. We caught an express boat back to San Pedro. Caleb rode standing on the boat's bow with open arms like the scene in Titanic. It was freezing. He should have been wearing a jacket.

The sky was getting dark. A storm was approaching. That night we returned to the Buddah where we met Tom, a school teacher by day and a pool shark by night. By week's end we had befriended all of San Pedro's pool sharks.

Day Five

We awoke this morning to the violent sound of Caleb vomiting. The poor guy was embarrassed that it was coming out both ends simultaneously. I assured him that it had happened to me on several occasions. At least we fortunate enough to be in our room. The poor little guy also had a fever. Our plans to visit the market in Santiago would have to be changed. I met Flora and Nicholas on the dock and told them about Caleb. We went to a pharmacy and picked up some medicine. Three other students were suffering from the same thing.

Flora and I studied in Elena's restaurant, and she loaded me up with homework to pass the afternoon. It was a long horrible day for Caleb. I coaxed him into eating a Hershey bar that afternoon. I even got him out to the Buddah bar that evening, but he lay comatose on the couch. Poor Caleb didn't recover until the next day.

Day Six

Caleb felt a lot better this morning and even ate half of his pancake. He didn't want to go to Spanish school. It was Saturday and he was on his summer school break, not to mention his stomach flu. He decided to spend the morning in bed.

I rushed to the market before class to buy Flora some flowers. I had really enjoyed the time we spent together, and we promised to stay in touch on Facebook.

About an hour before class was supposed to end Caleb showed up in the garded with his army figures. He was better! - which lifted my heart. Unfortunately though, the weather was getting chilly and rain was imminent. We ended class early and I took Caleb to Nick's place- a Guatemalan owned place down by the Pana dock where Flora told me I could get really good guacamole. It was freezing there, and we were under dressed. During lunch it began to rain. Afterwards we headed next door to a sports bar that had a pool table, ping pong, and board games. We spent the day there while it poured outside. That night we returned to the Buddah bar where we met Ariel and her daughter Kathleen- both from Philadelphia. Also in attendance was local pool celebrity Henry.

Day Seven

Day Eight

Day Nine

Day Ten