Volcanic Dandruff

Just rode into Columba in the back of a very crowded pickup with Jennifer, a Kansas City, Missouri teacher. This morning brought a cloud of fine volcanic ash, much like the oak pollen of central Florida, except white instead of golden, so all of us passajeros have a fine coating of dust... and I'm grateful for my eyeglasses for a change.

The transport system here is something the USA could take lessons from... just add an automatic disclaimer, "I will not sue the vehicle's owner or operator," and this totally privatized network seems to move people and stuff to the various destinations with moderate efficiency and next to no comfort. And if ever there were a place that could use clean fuel, like electric or hydrogen, it is Guatemala.

I cannot rave enough about my satisfaction and gratefulness to be here at the Mountain School... bugs are a, to me, slight problem, but the teachers, living arrangements, and scenery are spectacular. My only slight complaint is that in living in the hostel-like environment of the school and eating alone in a family's home, one student per family, I greatly miss the lack of communal cooking and eating (most of the families eat at different times and serve the students seperately). This came into focus when we enjoyed the weekly Cena International (Int'l Dinner - I made veggie chili with Valerie, a grad student from NY... ) I can't wait to get back to the Marks Street Pot-Luck Suppers!

Yesterday morning I took a hike to a waterfall, el cataracta (? no dictionary handy?) with Jorge a strong, small man who knows a lot about plants and wildlife... I've got a few pages of notes on medicinal herbs from his garden tour. Round-trip to the waterfall was about 2.5 hours, not too strenuous, but the altitude still has me struggling with the uphill parts. The three good-natured and extremely stinky dogs from the school came with us, and we all were a bit tuckered out by the time we got home. After showering and washing (by hand, on a stone 'pila' or sink) my filthy clothes, I lay-laid down,and the afternoon rains pounding the metal roof overhead were a perfect lullaby.

Jorge at the waterfall



Yours truly