Me estoy volviendo loca.

If it weren’t for my budget, I would be SO ready to move out of this house. Yes, it was great at first for the nice roof and the open air and the view, but here’s the reality: the dog downstairs never shuts up, he’s eaten four of my dish sponges, and thinks that me hanging my clothes to dry on a clothesline is a fun game for him to play. I still think there may be rats lurking around occasionally, I stepped on a giant anthill in my yard a couple weeks ago and didn’t realize it until my foot felt like it was on fire and I looked down and it was submerged in tiny black moving things, and last night I walked out of my room thinking “oh my god, that’s a huge moth in my apartm—FUUUCK IT’S A BAT” and sprinted back into my room screaming. My landlord came over promptly after that episode and killed it by smashing it with a broom as I watched in absolute horror. Despite me not wanting a bat in my house, I also didn’t want him to kill it. He also assured me that he thinks my rat problem is actually a cat problem. I’m skeptical. Although it changed my perspective on the problem a little bit—instead of my apartment being a filthy rat den, it makes me happier to think that it can now be a safe place for hungry, stray cats to come for dinner. (Which then made me realize that I’ve finally completed my transformation into the crazy cat lady—although I prefer the term enlightened cat enthusiast—that I’ve always known I would someday become. It was really only a matter of time. Now all I need to do is to stop bathing and start wearing a sack and hoarding stacks of newspapers to use as furniture. Because who has the time for hygiene when there are cats to feed?)

But seriously, I’m about to completely lose it one of these days with all of these animals. I’ve stayed over at co-workers’ houses the past two nights, returning only in the mornings to shower and eat, because I’ve become increasingly overwhelmed with the animals and other various nuisances that have creeped their way into my life.

Oh, Guatemala. Never a dull moment.

Also, I saw a pickup truck flatbed full of gringos yesterday. Pana is a strange place. But I still love it oh so much. (All apartment infestation issues aside.) Last Wednesday was my friend Karyn’s last day at work, and it made me start to get sad because not only am I bummed that she’s leaving and I’ll be the only development intern for a while, but also I now have less than two months left here and that makes me sad as well.

And stressed out because the clock is ticking on finding a real job for when I come home, and my slowly dwindling bank account is constantly reminding me of this fact. But this is an unpaid internship, so I knew what I getting myself into.

Karyn and I, both being unpaid and soon to be unemployed, have been having job-searching and resume-writing parties. How do you make job searching a party, you ask? Simply add chocolate and a box of wine and it becomes much more fun! But is it effective? Not always, because if taken too far, your cover letters end up looking like this:

Dear sir or marndma:

            U shld hire me czu I am the BESTD. THE besSt. evr.

            srsly. plz? m catz need food.

                        -hammr

ps—nailed it.

^^I’ll let you know if I get that sick job at UN headquarters.

In all seriousness though, I have landed a couple of interviews! Which gives me a little bit of hope. We’ll see what happens. If I have any luck, you all will know soon. Or if not, I’ll keep at the search with increasing diligence. Because I have no choice.

Working here at MG is still going well, and I’m really enjoying it. I was kind of excited about that blog post I got to write for the website. The executive director even decided she wanted a version of my post to go out to all of our newsletter subscribers in an e-blast, to which my boss reacted: “OH SHIT HANNAH YOU’RE ABOUT TO BLOW UP.” I love working for her.

Also, the group of mothers and daughters that we have to entertain arrives later tonight in Guatemala City, and they’ll be here in Pana on Monday after they visit Antigua first. Next week will be a little crazy because of that. And may give me some good stories related to my inability to talk to adolescents. I found out that all the daughters are actually in grades 6 through 8, instead of being in high school like I originally thought. This stresses me out a great deal because I really just don’t know how to deal with tweens. And I have to like, make friendship bracelets with them and shit. I’m not even kidding. Good thing I’m not going to be with them for the whole week because I think would explode from awkwardness overload. And so would everyone else just from watching me interact with them.

But seriously, what do you talk to 11-13 year old girls about? Not a rhetorical question. This is something I actually need to figure out before next week, you guys. Any help is appreciated.

What the hell did I talk about at that age? I can’t even remember. Possibly all the boys I had crushes on in middle school that I ended up finding out were gay once I got to high school. Should I warn them about that before they meet the same fate, and end up crushed and in denial when everybody starts coming out of the closet at band camp? I would have found that information useful at their age. They’ll thank me someday when they realize that this gift of knowledge helped them to avoid the path to becoming the cat lady you now see before you.

Other than that, I got nothin.

(help)

semi-legit thing i kind of did

Amigos,

I wrote a blog post for the MG website that went up today! Read it here:

"When you are working with Mercado Global, you see things differently."

El hijo de la gata, ratónes mata.

My parents have been set loose in Guatemala until Thursday. Warn the policía.

Kidding. We had a good time, especially at Tikal.  Last Tuesday, I chicken bussed it all the way to Guatemala City to meet up with them (cost me all of $4 for the three hour ride, but the downside is the muscle soreness that comes from holding on for dear life the whole time), and we flew to a town called Flores and stayed the night there. We left to see the ruins in the morning, and we thought we were just hopping on a shuttle there, but it turned out that there was a tour guide coming with us and we could choose to go off on our own or take a tour of the park. We decided on the tour, to get some history out of it.

It was a great decision because our tour guide, Samuel, grew up in what is now the park area, and so he knew all the jungle trails and shortcuts, which allowed for us to see way more wildlife than we ever expected. Spider monkeys, anteaters (and anteater babies!), toucans, wild parrots, and lots of other cool birds. We even came across a tarantula on a tree near one of the ruins, and Samuel thought it’d be cool to put it on my neck, as he’s telling us about how they can smell your adrenaline levels when you get nervous or scared. Which then started a little feedback loop in my brain because I started getting nervous about trying not to get nervous, which is difficult when a giant spider with fangs is inching closer and closer to your jugular vein. My dad tried it on for size too. I think it liked his jungle shirt I got for him in Africa because it seemed like it wanted to just hang out there for a while.

As for the ruins—amazing. We were able to climb some of them, and the views were incredible. And I think Mayan history is super interesting. The amount of stuff they knew about astronomy back then was insane. And of course, only god knows how they were able to build those temples back then. The mysteriousness of it all is what makes it so interesting. So I’m really glad I had the chance to go there with my parents. And we met some nice people on our tour from California and England—most of their names escape my memory except for Captain John, the 76 year old boat captain, but my mom aptly nicknamed the British people Kiera Knightly, Captain Underpants, and Blondie. Not to their faces, of course... but they were all really nice, and for some reason all really wanted to be best friends with my dad.

Having my parents visit Pana was fun too, although with all of us staying in one room…as the Guatemalans would say, “el huésped y el pes hieden al tercer día.” (Again, kidding. I learned that from my Spanish teacher yesterday and wanted to use it.)

They explored Pana on Friday while I was having a nutso day at work trying to catch up from 3 days of being gone, and then over the weekend we went to the nature reserve in Pana and then went to San Juan, San Pedro, and Santiago on Sunday. It was nice seeing San Juan and San Pedro because I hadn’t gotten over there yet. San Juan is very quiet and quaint, and we got to see a little bit of their Corpus Christi procession through the streets, which was cool. San Pedro is a little bit more touristy than San Juan. It’s a lot like Pana, in that it’s where a ton of foreigners hang out and there’s apparently a big nightlife scene there. We went there for lunch, and then it started pouring while we were there but we had to get back to the boat, and then we went to Santiago in the monsoon-like weather while everyone else was running for shelter. We eventually got back to Pana soaking wet and cold, but it was a nice day nonetheless. Mom and Dad left on Monday for Antigua, and are heading home on Thursday. It was really nice seeing family, although we were of course missing Stephie, and were wishing she could have come too.

Since they left, fun things have happened. Like, I found out there are rats in my apartment. I knew $65 a month was way too good to be true.

Monday night I heard something outside my door, like a bag rustling, and I brushed it off thinking it was the wind or I imagined it or something. I came out of my room not long after and found my loaf of bread had a chunk bitten out of it, right through the plastic. I assumed it must have been the dog downstairs (Chino) sneaking up into my apartment, because he’s done that before, and he’s eaten two of my dish sponges since I’ve moved in, so I wouldn’t put it past him to eat my bread. I went downstairs to see if the door was open from him coming upstairs, but it was shut completely. I hoped that maybe it still could have been Chino, and my neighbors just shut the door for me. Wishful thinking. I left the bread out on the table during the day yesterday to test my theory, and made sure the door was locked and there was no way Chino could get upstairs.

I came home to half of the loaf of bread gone. With bite marks all over it. I told my neighbors, and they think it’s probably rats or an opossum or something. I considered calling Karyn to see if she’d let me stay at her place, but I thought about it and I don’t think there’s any way those little bitches can get into my room. I just have to start keeping my food only in my room and in the fridge where they can’t get at it and always keep the door to my room shut and I think I’ll be fine. I’m just grossed out that they were on my table/counter. Going to start bleaching that regularly.

Also, the rats came right on cue right after my roommate left for a month. I guess they didn’t want me to be lonely? I’m calling my landlord today to see if he can help me with this problem, otherwise I’m trying to decide if this is a problem worth moving out over. There’s a room available at the house where two of my coworkers live, but it’s just that this place saves me so much money that I can’t wrap my head around paying twice as much if I move in to their house. And electricity and internet on top of that. It’s still very cheap compared to rent in the US, but keep in mind they don’t pay me here and I have yet to find a job for when I return home to calm my anxiety about running out of money. So until that happens, I might just stay here with my new furry roommates.

…ughhh.