Not in Kansas Anymore

I can barely hear. I’ve just come from a dance. I’ll start where I left off. Fernando dropped me at the airport at about 11:00 AM and I boarded my last flight at 1:45. I slept for most of it, but awoke for long enough to eat an in-flight meal (!!!), fill out customs and immigration forms and chat with a man from Wisconsin who patronizes an orphanage.

On the ground I found a man holding a “Charlie Thompson” sign and went with him to his pickup. He told me his name is Bacillio (sp?) and if I understand correctly, it turns out his eldest son is a Digital Weaver. I will never forget the drive from Guatemala City of Santa Cruz Del Quiché. We left around 2:30 and arrived at about 7:30. I’ll suffice to say the roads were a mess.

I paid a brief visit to Enlace Quiché where Matías, the executive director, was still at work on plans for when some people arrive from the capitol Monday. If I understand correctly, I will get an introduction to the organization then. It appears they’ve planned me an orientation. I think Mike, my Australian roommate arrives on Sunday. Hilda, the volunteer coordinator, Katie, another intern finishing six months here next week, and Sarah, her visiting friend, met me there and went with me to my new house.



The kindly prepared me a dinner and showed me the house. Then it was off to the dance. Sarah wasn’t certain, but she thought it was an end-of-the-school-year celebration for all the schools in town. A DJ played merengue, cumbia, and reggaetón. They only played one song I recognized. It’s the one with Lil Jon, something about “tremendo culo”. I was advised not to sing along, as the people here are very conservative.