Way way in Culture Shock

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I'm writing from an internet cafe in huehuetenango sipping on
a tiny styrofoam cup of coffee so sweet i already have diabetes. I
arrived safely after a lovely 24 hour plane to plane to bus to bus
journey, with my two 50 pound sacks of books and 40 pound carry on
still in tact. This was great, and being energized from minimally
awkward arrival, I refused to sleep and set out to explore the
mini-city. Like most of Guatemala, Huehuetenango is a myriad of
colors. AsI shuffled along the tiny sidewalks past the bright
storefronts advertizing pastries (yes!), pigs feet, transfers of money
from the united states, I felt like a foreign character in a
Garcia-Marquez novel. I´ll continue the story in a second, but I must
interrupt to say that the Guatemalan next to me just signed on with
the screenname 'I love jesus'.

Where was I? Oh yes, walking inside the city walls by the old
cathedral, I felt foreign in the way that a writer does, in that she
is able to view the world around her from a distance, rather than
being caught up in the whirlwind of life. That was nice. But then I
decided to follow the sunset out up a hill in the north of the city.
Amidst a block of gorgeous newly constructed houses (that probably had
been financed by relatives working in California), a father and his
three young daughters throw a bright blue basketball against a rusty
hoop. I watch and fall back into reverie, only to be awoken by 'Papi,
Papi, mira, una gringa!!!' (Daddy, daddy look, a foreigner!!!) Then
they proceed to shout ´´hola gringa, hola gringa!´. They are right, I
am a gringa, so I greet them back, hola! I don't mind too much, for
surely this is an isolated incident, right? An audacious girl who
maybe hadn't ever seen a short-haired freckled girl before. But then
walking back to the city, I was saluted by another 8 people in the
same manner, followed by a round of 'Hey baby' from a circle of pimply
teenagers standing around a motorcycle.
I've traveled before. I was a gringa in Toulouse, in Turkey,
even in Xela, Guatemala when I went there four years ago. But in
Huehuetenango, apparently, I'm the only one, and everyone finds it
very amusing. I'm trying to laugh about this rather than run and hide
in my hotel room, but... One of the teachers who taught at the
school in San Mateo Ixtatan last year told me that as a gringo, you
end up being viewed as a celebrity. Perhaps that some day I'll assume
this identity, but for now, i feel as though I were walking around
with a third arm sticking out from my nose.

It's funny how much we take the ability to fit in for granted.
In Berkeley, I fit in so much that I like to wear strange sunglasses
and walk around barefoot from time to time just to express my
individuality. What I wouldn' t give on this foggy day in
Huehuetenago to be able to walk around without being stared at.

So tomorrow, the stares will really begin. I'm leaving
Huehuetenango (the medium size city 7 hours from Guatemala city) and
taking the chicken bus another 5 hours to San Mateo Ixtatan, the town
of 10,000 where I'll be teaching the next year. More from there...

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