Arriving in Antigua, one is immediately struck by the fascinating architecture and splendid monuments that permeates every corner of the city. The place is replicate with 17th and 18th century churches. There are so many churches about that one can hardly walk more than a few steps without running into one. About half of them are destroyed. The ones that are not are beautifully restored. It is a strange place, wholly different then the rest of Guatemala. The streets are clean, the garbage gets picked up, and the stray dogs disappear after dark. The history of Antigua is quite fascinating. Antigua was the center of power for all of Latin America from 1571 through 1776. During this time, the Spanish lavished seemingly limitless resources to beautify the city. They laid down cobbled streets, installed parks, a gorgeous square, many churches and even some public buildings. There were several earthquakes in the second half of the 18th century. The one in 1776 destroyed nearly everything and caused them to move the capital of New Spain to Guatemala City. For a couple of hundred years it was largely abandoned until the preservationalists moved in. The result is a perfectly untouched colonial city in the heart of Central America. While most people outside of Antigua have never heard of the concept of a zoning law, here they are strictly enforced with splendid results. Even the McDonald’s in town is inside of a spectacular old Colonial building with mahogany wood and a spectacular courtyard in which food is served that is not quite appropriate for a human consumption. The ruined churches might be the best part about Antigua. You can see the original bulk of the church and the convents and actually climb over gigantic pieces of masonry that were the pre-earthquake ceilings. The ruins for many of the churches are endless and they let you climb into hidden catacombs and jump up on ruined walls. As the Lonely Planet guide books says, ¨This is the perfect location to take pictures for the CD cover of your Goth band¨
After a few evenings out in the heavily touristed bars in town, I hooked up with one of the best Spanish schools in town. For about $160 a week you can get four hours of one on one instruction a day, free internet and free group activities most evenings to reinforce your learning. This also includes a family stay for the week with three meals a day. It all seems impossibly cheap, but I assure you, it is real. The family I am with has probably the best cook in all of Guatemala. We eat ridiculously well. In fact, I don’t think I have ever eaten this well for this long. The only problem is that she serves entirely too much food; three courses minimum for lunch and dinner. I have resorted to skipping meals to avoid ending up expanding around the middle. My room is humble, but I have a nice view out into the outdoor courtyard that also serves as their laundry room, living room and incidentally, the dog’s John. The family speaks only Spanish which makes the simplest of exchanges very lively. There are two other students in the house. A young James Bond type from Scotland and a Middle Aged contractor from Vancouver. We try to speak only Spanish in the house but we sometimes digress when we are overcome with the desire to have an actual conversation - something more than the series of cave man grunts and gestures we have been reduced to.
Today, I went to a ´football´match with the family’s eldest son. It was great fun; Antigua vs. a small Pacific coast town. Antigua won with one goal scored. The stadium was about 500 years old and the only side entertainment was a small band and man sitting next to me that insisted on blowing off about 2,000 exploding fire works from the very least provocation.
Tomorrow will mark my third week of Spanish classes. Learning another language is quite a bit more difficult then I imagined - not something I can conquer with pure will. As soon as I think I know something, I find that there is much, much more to know then I thought. It is essentially a never-ending task that can never be truly completed. You just have to push on until hopefully one day you get to a place where you can understand people and they can understand you. It takes a lot of time and a lot of patients.
My teacher is excellent. Her name is Karla. She thinks I am hilarious because I always make up funny sentences using the Spanish words, (exp. ¿Quien casa tu vive? Yo vivo en la casa de Batman). In another week, I think I will finally be able to tell the difference between my Hueves (eggs), Jueves (Thursday), and Huevas (slang for 'cool').
