Big Problem in Little Chinatown

Local scoreboard in Santa Anna

At the same time the United States was struggling through Vietnam, Central America was struggling through sweeping revolutions, and it appears that fighting spirit is still with the people today. Last Monday (the 12^th), when I showed up for my Spanish class, it seemed that it would be just another day of conjugating verbs and stumbling through translated sentences. But when I came back from the morning break at 10:30, the atmosphere at the school had changed a bit. My teacher informed me that the previous Thursday one of the other teachers had badly hurt his knee when he was with some students, and that the school was refusing to provide the proper paperwork so that his insurance would pay for it. As a result, a majority of the teachers were going on strike. So instead receiving a new set of irregular verbs to study that morning, I received an up close and personal lesson on labor relations in Central America. Before long rumors were flying through the school that the injured teacher was going to need an amputation on his leg and that the school didn’t care. The local news station showed up and interviewed teachers and students alike, the police showed up and refereed a heated debated between the striking teachers and the administration, and a lawyer appeared and gave his two cents on the legal side of situation. It was quite a show. By one in the afternoon, my housemate and I had seen enough of the three ring circus, so we walked back home for some of Juanita’s delicious home cooking, not knowing what would happen the next day when we came back for classes.

When we arrived Tuesday morning, we were met in the streets by fifteen of the most senior teachers in the school, including our own, who had been fired for going on strike. Turns out things didn’t exactly quiet down over night… We walked in the school to ask what was going on and why they had fired our teachers, and we were joined by all the other frenzied students. First the school hadn’t provided the teacher with health insurance, and now they had fired our teachers for standing up for him. So the school administration stood up and explained to everyone their side of the story, saying that they’d been with the teacher the whole time and that he was going to have the surgery he needed, and that they was forced to discipline the teachers because of the negative light they had cast on the school. They also said that a few of the teachers were trying to take advantage of the situation and somehow get money or other benefits from it. This quieted down a lot of the students, and many of them relented and decided to stay with the school and continue their studies. I and a handful of the other students, though, just couldn’t completely buy the story. Some of the details were seemingly being bent, and some the the other statements were flat out wrong. There were just too many things that seemed a little fishy for me to continue studying at the school. So now, I and a few of the other students continue to meet with the teachers we had at the school who were fired, we just meet them in a different location and study independently. In fact I’m paying much less for the Spanish lessons, and they’re making much more, because all of my money is going directly to them. In my opinion, it’s a good situation for both parties. The lady I have for my classes is a really good teacher, and I’m learning a lot from her, so it’s good for me that I don’t have to change, and it’s good for her that she still has an income for the next few weeks. 

Now that's some tasty cookin right there.

In Latin America it’s not uncommon for employers to take advantage of their employees, nor is it uncommon for the employees to try to do the same. It seems clear that the situation was handled poorly by both parties. The teachers probably didn’t need to call in the tv station, the police, and a lawyer. That might’ve been overreacting… But when the school fired the teachers who were involved, and who also happened to be most senior and some of the best teachers at the school, it struck me much more as a reaction of revenge than anything else.  In addition, his whole story just didn’t quite add up. Was there corruption at the school? And if so to what extent? I’m not exactly sure. The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle of both party’s stories. The bottom line is that it was a great experience for me to see how labor relations down here work. I learned a lot from it, and I’m still getting my Spanish classes. Plus now they are a little bit cheaper, so I can buy a few more of those delicious tostadas the old ladies sell in the streets, and a few more of the cervesas with my friends at the bar around the corner. Life is good…

Summertime in Antigua, and the Livin is Easy

Welp, I believe my first week in Antigua, Guatemala just might have been a success. I am now fluent in Spanish. That’s right, I know everything. Taco, burrito, cerveza, fiesta, oh and uhm… escuela. I think I learned that word too. For those of you not as fluent as me, escuela means school. As in the Spanish language school I attend for four hours every day, which happens to be the whole reason for me coming to Guatemala in the first place. I have a wonderful lady for a teacher named Glendy, who is kind and patient enough to help me struggle through four hours of conversation each morning. She even laughs at my jokes, though I’m quite sure they make absolutely no sense with my limited knowledge of the language. So it’s probably a pity laugh, but I’ll take what I can get at this point. Everyone there is incredibly friendly, and the moment I showed up at the front door I felt welcomed. Even the students are cool for the most part, and probably the neatest thing about it is that they come from all over the world. My best friend here is from Belgium, our two other friends from the school are from Korea and Australia, and several nights during the week we’ll go to the bar or the park or a restaurant with our friends from Canada, Holland, or Germany. The city is a melting pot of tourism, and thanks to its reputation for fantastic language schools there are travelers and students from every corner of the earth here. In fact the other night during dinner our conversation was part in English, part in Spanish, part in German, and part in Flemish. I only understood 25% of it. Maybe I should try to learn some Flemish too.

The courtyard in Juanita's casa in the evening.

The other great thing about my situation in Antigua, is that I’m living in a house with a Guatemalan family. Juanita, an incredible 75 year old grandmother is the main person here, with her daughter Rita usually joining us for a least one meal a day. She has four beds for students who are studying at the school, but currently only I and my Belgian friend Stan are here. The food is spectacular, and probably the healthiest I’ve ever eaten in my life. The big meal of the day is lunch, and it is also the only meal during which we have meat. For breakfast we have eggs with tomatoes and green onions, along with fruit and bread, and for dinner we normally have either beans or rice, bread, and several servings of vegetables. At this point in the story my mom will probably be thinking to herself, “Well, Harrison is starving, cause he loves meat, preferably fried, and tends to shy away from anything green.” And while this usually true, I just don’t have the heart to tell Juanita I’m not going to eat her cooking. Nor do I have the stomach, because if I turned it away I would just go hungry. So here I am eating lettuce, cucumber, and broccoli salads every day for lunch or dinner. This is a big step for me. In addition to learning Spanish in Guatemala, I just might be learning to eat like a more normal, healthy, vegetable-loving human being. But I still wouldn’t say I love cucumbers.

Dusk in Antigua with Agua Volcano in the background.



The city of Antigua itself is also a magnificent place to be, whether attending language school or not. It is a small old colonial town, bursting with brightly colored buildings and pleasant weather. As you walk down the cobblestone streets you are surrounded by buildings painted in bright blues, yellows, and reds, along with towering Spanish ruins where monasteries and churches used to stand. If you look South you will see Agua Volcano rising from the horizon, the closest of three volcanoes within sight of the city. When you pass by Parque Central, the center and focal point of the city, complete with gardens and fountains, you will encounter colorfully dressed women selling blankets or scarves, often with a baby on their back. A large portion of the population here still wears the old style clothes, reminiscent of Spanish conquistadors and indigenous Mayans and all delicately weaved with every color you can imagine. The locals in town are almost always willing to strike up a conversation with the random tourist, and even are willing to put up with my rudimentary, painfully-slow Spanish for at least five or ten minutes. Is this utopia? Absolutely not. Is there poverty and hunger and do tourist sometimes get held up for their wallet and cell phone? Sure, this is a third world country. But as a whole I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the colorful town, beautiful scenery, temperate weather, and welcoming people.

I’ve got plenty more stories, but I think that’s enough typing for one week. Now back to studying my Spanish. Or maybe eating some tortillas and guacamole. Guatemalans make awesome guacamole.   

Panorama of Pacaya Volcano outside Guatemala City. We climbed it this past Sunday.