Guatemala City Hotels
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Long day´s journey into night. Part 1
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I had a tough time sleeping the night before I left because I was so keyed up about the trip. It really hit me that I was going on the day before. Eric ended up talking to me for about an hour and he had trouble getting to sleep after that. I had no trouble getting to sleep, but staying asleep was another story. I woke up for good about an hour before the alarm went off.
The airline advised arriving 3 hours before the flight. I made it through check-in and security and walked to the gate in about 35 minutes. To be fair, I think I was in the wrong line for check-in. TACA's gates were interrupted by Lufthansa's and I didn't see that the Guatemala check-ins were on the other side. But the TACA agent didn't tell me that I had to wait in the other line. Honestly, I felt like I had cut the line and was a bit guilty.
As I waited near the gate, I thought I might be the only American on the plane. Then a group of 12 Asian kids (late teens to maybe college, if that) came to the gate area. They were obviously traveling together as a group and had a male and female group lead who began to talk to them about their lunches and the flight. I gathered that they were a church group when the female leader mentioned that they should "eat their lunches with joy" because the lunches had been made for them by their team members. She would later tell some of the others to spend time memorizing songs from the mission songbook. I'm guessing they are a prayer team on a mission to Guatemala. In a way, I was disappointed that they showed up because I had been listening to people speaking Spanish. When they came, my ears kept tuning to their English conversations. They would hardly be the last missionaries I would see.
Also in the waiting area, there was a woman and about 4 kids who sat right behind me. The 4 or 5 children were between 4 and about 11 (they were typical kids--most of them in constant motion, so I didn't get an exactly count. I did NOT want to stare). The kids had obviously been in the U.S. a while because all spoke unaccented English. From the conversations I overheard between the kids, not all of them were her children, so I'm guessing that some were nieces or nephews that she was taking back to visit family. I listened in amazement as the children switched effortlessly between Spanish and English, depending on who had spoken to them or the most recent language spoken. It's good to be a kid!
By the time the flight boarded, the group of obvious Americans included me, a family of four with teen kids, two older couples and a backpacker guy, and two white women traveling together. I sat next to none of them. Instead, I ended up next to an elderly Guatemalan couple. The woman was in the seat next to me and immediately tried to engage me in conversation. I think I may have understood a word or two. But we smiled at one another and I think I told her that I was going to study Spanish. She hugged me and touched my arm as she spoke--she had the softest hands and the warmest smile.
When the flight attendants brought the customs forms, the señora did not fill them out. I finished with mine and offered her my pen, as she didn't seem to have one. She cheerfully told me that she couldn't read. I think that was what she was talking about when I first got on the plane and started reading the emergency card--she was asking if I could read then and had probably told me she couldn't. I wondered how she'd manage. She, on the other hand, didn't seem at all concerned. An hour before the flight landed, the attendant came and took the forms and the passports of the couple and the señora across the aisle who traveled with them. In a few minutes, he brought them back filled out. I thought that was pretty cool of them and I bet they do that often.
During the flight we continued to smile and nod at one another through the breakfast service (a nice surprise) and as we watched the mostly cloudy skies. It wasn't until we were over the Gulf of Mexico that I got the courage to try to speak to her. I told her that we were over the water and that the tall clouds we had seen before were thunderstorms over Texas. She was delighted and hugged me again. I told her I was speaking one by one. Her response made me feel so much better about trying and I think I will be sure to greet people as much as possible while I'm here. They genuinely seem to appreciate a simple good morning, even from someone with as broken speech as mine.
Once I had started to talk to her, we had a good conversation. I told her that I lived in Virginia. She and her husband live in Guatemala City and had been visiting the U.S. They have 3 children in Virginia and 1 in Washington. Through speech and pantomime, she told me about there trip. While they were visiting, her husband broke his hip. He was hospitalized in the U.S. for 3 months. Poor guy! Neither of them speaks English and they can't even read their native language. It must have been a rough time for him. I think I told her that the U.S. has good doctors--she agreed. All in all, it was my first successful conversation, if more than a bit one sided. Still, the señora was gracious, warm, and patient.
In the end, I chickened out again. We sat in the 4th row of the plane, right behind first class. So, when the flight landed, I was able to get my bag and get off quickly. I said only a simple "adios" to the señora and left. I felt like an ass. Karma would make me pay--first off the plane, almost the last bag on the belt, it seemed. That and problems with the bank would make me miss my 12:30 bus and cause this trip to become the long day's journey into night (more about that in part 2).
Though I kept looking for the couple, I never saw them in baggage claim. However, the woman with them was there. Once I had my bags, I went over to the señora and asked her to say to the other señora thank you for everything and I am pleased to meet her. The lady seemed very touched by that and thanked me. But she was also trying to find all of their luggage with the help of one of the attendants, so her attention was divided. I smiled at her, nodded, and turned to make my way into Guatemala.
More to come in Part 2: Getting to Xela and Part 3: Mary and Chris´s excellent adventure.
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