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.