Si era independiente...

Reflecting back on the past week's activities, I can see how we are finally starting to develop a routine, and for that, I am finally starting to feel like I live here and am not just visiting.

Hard to believe I lasted so long without, but I rode my first chicken bus Friday after school. It was quite possibly the funniest experience I have had in Guatemala to this day. I became one of those people I mentioned in the last post that were packed in all the way until hanging out the door of the bus...yeah, that was us. Only we were somewhere in the middle, not out the door. It was loud, noisy, crowded, and surprisingly funny, particularly the way all the Americans towered over the Guatemalans who were also standing in the aisle (at least a head taller in all cases), or the way the people at the back of the bus either yelled to keep the bus stopped as they wove their way to the front door or just opened the emergency exit back door to hop out. My favorite moment on the chicken bus was when the loud salsa music popped on randomly at one point during the ride. It was so loud it sounded like we were on a party bus in the States, the kind you have to rent out to have such loud music and so many people on it, standing/dancing while driving down the street. And to think I got all that for less than 15 cents!

I went to church for the first time on Sunday. The church was called "Palabras en Accion" (words in action). The three Guatemalan ladies who work as the business managers and secretary for the school all go to this church. One of them invited me and another girl; she picked us up and took us there with her family. As soon as we walked in the door, a lighter skinned boy (not quite white though) beelined straight for us, introduced himself, and then offered to translate the sermon for us...he would just run and get headsets so we could listen. Yes, that happens everywhere we go...it takes less than five seconds to be identified as the Americans. At least at church we weren't talked at rudely and called "mamacitas" (as we are while walking down the street).

The most difficult part of living here right now is not adjusting to the culture, or making friends, or even the whole job aspect. Although I had expected all of those to take a little time to adjust, the worst adjustment for me is living with a family again. I am used to being on my own time schedule, eating when I want to, sleeping when I want to, having a TV, being able to dictate when and where I can go and how, at my own whim. All of a sudden, I have set mealtimes in which you have to be home or you have to spend money and eat out. Not a bad option, except I've already paid for meals at the house, so essentially I'm paying twice for the same meal when I eat out! Several of the other girls living with families express similar difficulties, and are already moving out to an apartment. I'm trying to stay strong, afterall I wanted to live with a family to improve my Spanish skills, however, it's difficult to think about how much money I would be saving by living in an apartment with other teachers.

I am once again the last teacher left at school. Perhaps it's the perfectionist in me, or the fact that science requires more prep and planning for each class (and I'm teaching 5) than other subjects because there is both lecture and lab to prepare, or maybe I am the biggest rookie to teaching in the group (also true). Whatever the case, I am usually the last one to leave, and it is time to do that now.