Quetzaltenango (Guatemala) - high school

Another week in Xela, another 100 verbs and a couple of tenses. Is it still travelling, yet alone a holiday, when you are in one place for months on end?

The big highlight of the week, one for which I turned down a world-class hiking opportunity, was the last match of the season for the SuperChivos (super, erm, goats). With a handful of students and three family members, we braved 'la curva' - the home of the hardest, loudest and craziest loyal supporters. I have never been in crowd like it. A ten piece band, non-stop dancing, a suite of songs with familar tunes and obnoxious, indecipherable words and use of the word 'puta' pretty much every second. Hilarious and with a win for the home team against the arch-rivals from the capital, it was 40 quetzals ($7) well spent.

Those songs in full...!

Vamos Xela, hoy te venido a vez
Pongan huevos, no logro entender
Que te amo, con todo el corazon
Y que juntos, vamas a salie campeon
(the classic)

Mira, mira, tomale la foto
Se va para su casa con el culo roto
(for the end of a game)

Hueeeeeeeeeeeeeco
El hijo de la gran puta
Puta puta puta
Reputa la vieja cerota
(sung as the goalie take a kick)

Para ser superchivo
Para ser superchivo se necesita un chingo de locura
Un chingo de locura y descontrol y del descontrol
Vamos Xela
Vamos Xel
(to the tune of La Bamba)

Venados y chantes, la misma mierda
(especially for Suchi)

Lago Atitlan (Guatemala) - summer break

Perhaps it is a little rude to take a long weekend as part of a holiday spanning several months, but I needed a break. So, off to Lago Atitlan a beautiful lakeside region, for some recuperation.

The main base for this excursion was San Pedro de la Laguna, a hippy style traveller centre with little to make it different from peers anywhere across the world: internet cafes, hash brownies, dreadlocks, ethnic jewellery stalls, massages, Bob Frickin Marley and video nights in every restaurant. That said, I did appreciate eating a mix of Asian and Italian food after three weeks of Guatemalan fair.

Days were spent taking a launch to other spots around the lake. As much for the ride as anything in the destinations. San Marcos gave new meaning to the phrase "nothing to do". Unless you fancied a week long course in karmic alignment or such like. Panajachel was basically San Pedro with a couple of extra years development and, consequently, for a fractionally richer crew. On one journey, a couple of guys last seen in the Baja California were sighted. A standard travelling incident, but always amusing. I did manage a couple of swims too and, despite being hard to actually access, the water was perfect. Who designs a lakeside holiday destination with almost zero water views or access? I guess no-one is the answer.

Evenings were occupied eating, playing cards and ping poing, dancing, watching films and listening to live music. Including a human beatbox that actually had people dancing to him. Odd. Pals from Xela were there for a few nights and that made for a few fun trips out.

Quetzaltenango (Guatemala) - primary school

Three weeks since the last post and I am still in the same place, making slow progress in learning Spanish - the law of diminishing marginal returns plays strongly in this endeavour. Right now, I understand six tenses and have around 200 verbs up my sleeves, but I barely feel like I speak any better then when I started. Time to get out there and use it perhaps.

Xela has proved a lively place to spend some time, with a good mix of late drinking nights (in old fashioned 'locks-ins' since the bars all shut at 1am), cultural activities, trips into the country and salsa lessons - speaking of things I don't yet master. All with an odd friendship group of a Kiwi, Israeli, Swede, two South Africans and a marine. Good bunch.

Around forty minutes away is Laguna Chicabal, set in the crater of an old volcano and requiring a two hour trek. Normally the views both arond the lake and on approach are supposed to be magnificent, but the rainy season offers a different experience. Around the lake, mist prevented more then a couple of metres of vision. This, with the weird burning Mayan tributes, made for a mysterious setting. Fortunately, the clouds lifted for a few brief minutes whilst on the rim, to allow the full view to be experienced. A little closer, and far less hard work, are the boiling hot thermal pools of Fuentes Georginas. A beer and a steaming dip made for a recuperating Sunday arvo.

Between study and mucking around, I've kept my culinary skills up to speed by cooking a traditional English Sunday roast for my family - twelve people in total. Followed by preparing dinner for the entire Spanish school, teachers included. An odd Asian creation which seemed pretty popular with the 20 who cleaned their plates. Next stop, Italiano.