You are afraid of my hhhuatemalaness!

Here's what I think (for those who care to know): If you've ever heard anyone talk about living "the life", they're probably talking about hanging out somewhere in Latin America. You don't make much money, but then, you don't need much. You can buy fresh fruits and vegetables at a fraction of a dollar, which is WAY less than anything you can buy at the McDonalds. You probably can get your hands on a great book -- Spanish, or English -- and spend time lounging in the hammock when you're not learning Spanish, trying to speak Spanish, or studying Spanish. The mango is a revered fruit. You can buy it cut up on the street with a little bit of salt and lemon for 5Q. After you finish a bag, it's almost as though you just want to lie down in the street, because you have attained heaven in your mouth.

So, what's not cool about where I'm living? Almost two things. One, the pollution. Xela is a small town, but no one thinks to walk anywhere. Everyone drives and the streets are filled with cars that don't pass emission inspection in California, New Mexico and Texas. So even though walking is a good activity, you are sentencing yourself to sucking exhaust fumes on your journey. Two, the attitude of the local men. For a woman who raised herself on feminist poetry, pro-woman prose, and music of the third-wave, the attitude towards the "second sex" is amazingly atrocious. Whenever I travel, I am always thankful for having brown eyes and hair becuase it relieves me from the German-inspired blond hair, blue eyed version of the gringa. When i was living with my host family, they kept asking me if my mother was Mexican. When I explained to them that no, she is Italian, they kept telling me that somewhere in my lineage was a Latinoamerican.

But for me, right now my life consits of wonderfulness. I live in a community house where I am teaching flow yoga, taking boxing lessons, and learning Ashtanga. Five people in my house work in a bookstore, so there are constantly philosophical, intelligent and interesting books floating around. I am working on three right now, including Harry Potter y La Piedra Filosofal, which is my first literary conquest in Spanish. We have a large, lovely kitchen where we cook together, eat together, and try one another's exciting new dishes. We have a patio outside the kitchen with a pila, where we do our own laundry and sit and drink tea. There is also a terrace with two incredible hammocks, just calling for anyone to bring tea to their sides, a pillow, a good book, and on the intelligent side, an alarm clock. The slow tilt and loll of the hammock is enough to guide anyone to a dreamstate, no matter how much house kombucha they've had.

As for day to day life, I've just finished my Spanish schooling. I graduated with an Advanced Degree -- a piece of paper that cost me about 800 American bones, altogether. I work three nights a week at an ambient little cafe called El Cuartito, where I get on great with the tourists becuase they are so relieved that their waitress speaks English, and where the locals think I'm cute becuase I have to smile pretty, apologize profusely and ask them to repeat themselves four times before I can be sure I am taking their order correctly. It sounds annoying, but apparently it works. We have a lot of regulars, live music, good food and the world's best mojitos. I can eat while I work, drink while I work, and best of all, laugh and chat while I work. And when there's nobody at the tables, we draw and wax philosophic instead of cleaning bathrooms or washing dishes. At the end of the day I make 56Q plus tips... which usually equals to between 8-9 USD on a good night. The next day after I work, I make a beeline for the market and buy all sorts of fresh fruits and vegetables from the K'iche farmers that come to sell.

During the day when I'm not working, I have an intercambio with a Guatemalan boy who just turned 18. I teach him english, he teaches me spanish, and we have a grand time. He has two brothers who are in the states illegally, but he wants to learn English so he can get his real papers, go to Hollywood, write scripts and become an actor. Also, he never fails to invite me to Church on Wednesday nights. I also have this great gig teaching yoga at the house... which makes me about as much as a night of waitressing, except saving me four hours of slopping coffee all over the bar.

I literally roll out of bed in the morning and go to boxing, which is held in the yoga studio ten feet from my door. I eat breakfast, I go to Ashtanga. I intercambio or lay in the hammock, devouring whatever new book made eyes at me. I eat mangos, and avocados, and mangos and mangos. I make natural tea from the bouganvillea plant outside. I watch poor quailty bootlegs dubbed into Spanish. I laugh with whoever's in the kitchen about that nasty fart someone ripped during sevasana. So okay, it's not pefect: It's missing the ocean. But beyond that, I got casi no complaints. :o)