Day 1: Arrival in Antigua, Guatemala

My day of arrival in Guatemala, yesterday, wasn’t terrible at first. My flights were on time (Spirit Air, no less!) and the person who was supposed to greet me at the airport with a sign with my name on it was actually there (“Jennifer Collins,” but I was pretty impressed even with that). Even the hour-long taxi ride was fine. The driver, Juan Carlos, brought his teenaged daughter, which I have to admit made me feel more confident that I wasn’t going to get abducted and, as my parents always fear, sold into white slavery. Having been up since 3:30 a.m., I was so tired that it was beyond challenging to speak Spanish at this point, however, and after attempting conversation for the first 10 miles, I ran out of gas, so he turned up the Chile/Alemania futbal game and we were all happy (at least until Chile started losing).

When I arrived at the place I’m now staying, things started to get a little hairy. It’s not that the house isn’t beautiful; it is incredible and very much as you would picture in Antigua-- really old and stately with about four rooms that wrap elegantly around a center courtyard garden. It looked just like the pictures on Trip Advisor, to my relief-- just an older and dustier version. When la senora took me to my room, though, I walked in and was hit with the smell of mold and must. I guess things can’t always look old without smelling old. Okay, I thought, that’s fine. Plus, it was raining, so sometimes that can bring out bad smells a bit more. When she left I looked around a bit more. It was one big room with its own bathroom. To my left was an armoire for clothes, but that didn’t smell like a place I’d want to put things I was going to wear on my body, so I left my stuff in my suitcase. Above was a naked lightbulb on the high ceiling that cast a fluorescent sheen everywhere without actually making it possible to see. In the corner was the bathroom, which was like a small, leaky cave. It had mold on its flakey white walls and some kind of recessed lighting deep in a crevice of the brick wall that I was glad didn’t fully illuminate the room.

I had a creeping suspicion I’d made a mistake in my commitment to these accommodations for a whole month, sight unseen.  And when I asked la senora for the internet password and she told me that her daughter, whom I had been communicating with throughout the booking process, was out of town for six weeks, that suspicion was confirmed. Of course, I didn’t really need to get online until I worked in the morning, but I wanted to touch base with my family and Mike to let them know I arrived safely. So instead of flaking out and relaxing after a long day of travel, I walked into town to see if I could get a SIM card for the smartphone I brought to get online.

With the help of a kind stranger (luckily Antigua is full of these), I found the store La Conexion, which sold phones and SIM cards. They checked mine and told me it was locked. No internet was going to happen on my phone. I could get a cheap little cell for regular calls, but I wasn’t sure I needed that, and plus you couldn’t buy it without your passport, so I left and walked around town to find something to eat, had a sandwich, and headed home in the chilly rain figuring I could email my parents later once I had the internet password.

When I got back, there was still no Internet password, which was okay, but after being home for a few minutes I started to wonder if my parents or Mike might be worried, so I decided to grab my computer and go find a café with Wifi. I found a juice bar, ordered a smoothie, cracked open my laptop, and entered the password. It would not connect to the network. Why? No clue. I got my smoothie to go and instead headed back toward the phone place, figuring I’d go ahead and buy the cheap phone to call my parents and Mike really quick. When I got there I saw that La Conexion actually had computers I could use! I hadn’t even noticed this before. I was so relieved and sat down to log into Gmail. The only problem was, I could not remember my password. Now on the verge of a meltdown, I racked my brain and finally got in on the 5^th try. I emailed everyone and then logged off, paid, and started to walk home, yet again, and call it a night.  

Not five minutes from my house, I had the sudden realization that it was 6:30 and I had to refund my return plane ticket in the next hour and a half or I was not going to be able to! That was a $600 ticket I bought the night before at 8 p.m. so that I’d have proof of onward travel out of Guatemala (a requirement to enter the country if you’ve got a one-way ticket). As long as I refunded it by 8:00 tonight though, it was fine. I wasn’t sure I could do it online, so this meant I had to return to the room, get my passport and go back to the phone store to buy the cheap phone and call Spirit. Of course, it was still raining.

When I got to La Conexion again, the guys just grinned. It was getting a bit ridiculous. Nonetheless, I bought the little phone, got online to get Spirit’s number, and called them. After getting disconnected twice, I decided to search around more online. Lo and behold I was able to cancel the ticket online, and easily! I was so relieved. This time I headed back home for good. Yep, in the rain. When I got to the room, I was completely exhausted and pretty soaked. I took off my shoes and got ready to take a nice hot shower and go to bed. The only problem was, there was no hot water.

I let it run forever, tried to find la senora, and eventually gave up. I got in the wiry, uncomfortable bed and decided to go to sleep. That’s when I realized it wasn’t 8:00, it was 6:00. My phone had not adjusted the time. I lay there thinking two things: 1. I cannot go to bed a 6:00, and 2. Man, I smell really bad. I had no choice but to take a cold shower.

I’m not a person who does this. Normally, if there’s no hot water, I stay dirty. But after the travel day I’d had and trudging back and forth through the muddy streets and bus fumes, I was disgusting, even to myself. I decided to suck it up and wash the important parts in the frigid water of the dark, moldy cave shower. As I shivered and resisted like a wet cat, I thought to myself, I think I’ve made a big mistake.