So Gianluca walks into my room the other day and asks “Tree-cee-ah, is it okay if I molest you?” And I was thinking, “Sure, why the hell not?” but instead laughed and said “You do know what that means in English, right?” Molestar is the verb for “bother” in Spanish, […]
Okay, so maybe there’s nothing gigante about this barrilete, but the little boys running around the hills above San Marcos sure were having a great time getting them airborne.
Had a really busy work week but managed to throw in some yoga with Gianluca, vinitos y quesos con Michelle y Geraldina, dinner with Lety (and Gianluca), giggling with Sonia, some mercado and farmacia adventures (necesito un laxante, por favor!), absolutely atrocious Spanish conversations with Catarina (y Lore y Lety […]
Blame Roe. She made me find my password so I could blog again. So here I am! Back in Quetzaltenango with my beloved clowns, this time juggling a full-time job (what a telecommute!) and designing promotion material for a super duper 10-day Teatro del Oprimido event in January, and […]
Physically, that is…my mind is still in Central America along with the flip flops I left behind. And now I am trying to organize all my photos and videos and play with this blog on my MacBook instead of frustrating myself with all the Russian PCs circa 1958 that littered […]
…but I was desperately trying to keep my ass on my tiny sliver of bus while avoiding stepping in some kid’s vomit.
And as he handed me the oyster from his could-be-cleaner hands, I said to myself ¨oh boy, this is going to make me sooooo sick¨.
Although I am really sad to leave, it will be nice to go to sleep without trying to catch something biting me.
…which was a lot different than this week’s bus ride which included musings about who was going to use the machete in my tool bag.
This whole operation spelled HOSPITAL to me, from the wooden plank they laid on the roof so the metal sheet wouldn’t pop up to the precarious position of the kitchen knife looming over Luke’s face
