Tales of Guate Part II: Fleas, Fraud and General Nonsense-Making

Dear Friends,

I'm sorry it has taken so long to write again. Things have been logistically (and somewhat emotionally) challenging and I have been waiting to wrap my brain around what's going on and make some sense of it. I finally realized that wasn't going to happen anytime soon -- the sense-making, that is -- so I am sending out this letter in hopes that someone else is making sense of something somewhere and will share some sense with me. Please.

My first two months here seemed to offer a somewhat surprising dose of bad luck, starting with the missing luggage upon my arrival, the nasty week-long Guatemalan stomach virus, the unexpected need to hit the pavement in search of a new apartment, and the online bank-account fraud that ocurred at the end of January. Then, came the fleas.

Now, honestly, I am not sure which has been worse: Dealing with the absolutely cotton-brained workers of Wells Fargos national phone bank or dealing with my apartments absurd infestation of small jumping, biting black bugs that mistook me, quite definitely, for an oversized, short-haired meow-maker.

The fleas were bad and I am still not sure where they came from. I woke every morning covered in tiny little mosquito-like bites that took weeks to resolve themselves. But, alas, no mosquitos. A rash? Bed bugs? A skin-borne parasite? And then I saw one. Ping. It was leaping off my leg. Vicious. After having the apartment fumigated three times, the little critters seem to have finally kicked off, though I still scratch habitually in paranoia. It was not my lungs first choice to stock up on carcinogens repeatedly, but flea bites are hell. It had to be done.

Wells Fargo, well that's another story. Someone named something like Joe Smith transferred a thousand dollars out of my bank account into his own. The bank saw the transaction, noted it as suspect, and proceeded to process it. Genuis. But it gets worse from there. I had to file a fraud claim, close my account, open a new account, get new checks, get new checks again because they put the wrong name and address on my first new checks, and then wait for said checks to arrive via Mom because Wells Fargos mail department cant seem to locate Central America on the map. After nearly a dozen hours spent on the phone with probably 25 different members of a distinctly unintelligible life form (humans, perhaps?), the multi-billion dollar corporation still hasn't gotten my feeble checking account sorted out. Every time I call, each person transfers me to a new department where a new person transfers me on to someone else, who tells me the last person did it wrong, and I have to hold, and yes, they realize I am calling from out of the country, but there is nothing they can do, and yes the mind-churning hold music is obligatory, sorry, and sure there is a manager but he is ouside eating a snow cone and the executive office doesn't open until five past midnight Alaska time, and will I please hold again and no, "no" is not an acceptable answer. So, after I am on hold for just over an hour, someone finally says they can fix the problem, and its like hallelujah, so I start trying to put the hairs I have torn out back into my head, though its a daunting task, and crying small, but earnest tears of joy, when oops, says a voice on the other end, the darned screen just froze, and will I just hold another moment while she reboots the ...

Then, the call drops.

Because this is Guatemala. Which Wells Fargo doesn't understand. Because they think Guatemala is like a small town outside of Houston or something.

And then my only choice is to repeat the whole scenario again, like a bad scene from Ground Hogs Day, because, no, it is impossible to call the same person back directly, because no one has direct extensions because that would just make way too much sense or, more succinctly, It just doesn't work like that here.

So between the fleas, the Wells Fargo nightmare, and a somewhat reactive supervisor, life has been a bit strained, and I have been remiss. But now the fleas are gone, I have made some very cool friends, I am spending way less time at the Embassy, and finally, I am starting to feel like I am living here. Plus, Ellen will be here in two weeks. So, things are looking up.

Work is good. I love teaching and I love what I am teaching -- language, journalism, writing -- cool stuff. My students are great, though the majority are super wealthy and a bit spoiled, which sometimes puts me in the role of mom as opposed to teacher. I have to exercise a bit more disciplinary action than is my preference (no, I havent taken the ruler out yet, but some days it crosses my mind.) Actually, the biggest problem is laziness. Lots of my private university students grew up with servants carrying their bookbags and picking up their toys; they are not used to the demands of university life and having to be accountable for themselves. But they're learning. I also have a few students from the public university and they are a whole different ball of wax. They work really hard and are more passionate about what they do. And last week, they bought me this beautiful cake for my birthday and we had a party in class. That was rockin.

My Spanish is improving by desire and necessity. I have learned many new words and expressions like fleas, dead fleas, jumping fleas, and flea bites. I also know how to say I am not going to pay that bill unless you show me all the itemized charges. Very important here.

My friends here are a mix of Americans (I finally met two that I like -- no small task when travelling abroad) and Guatemalans. People, in general are cool. I saw two plays last weekend, an ambitious and abridged version of Wicked, the musical, and a somewhat painful retelling of the film 12 Angry Men. This is not a great city for arts, at the moment. But people are trying. Most of the arts here is imported. I am going to try and see La Traviata this weekend at the National Theatre, but I believe it is an Argentinian production.

Had a birthday two weeks ago, but didn't celebrate till this past weekend; things in Guatemala are perpetually delayed, so it was really par for the course. This past weekend was fun. Apart from the plays, I spent a sunset atop an outdoor bar in Antigua, looking at the two prominent volcanoes in the distance. Also saw Memoirs of a Geisha, which did have some nice cinematography.

I just started teaching a bi-weekly class at the country's largest newspaper, so I am meeting some cool reporters and designers through that avenue. Journalism is struggling a bit here due to the last several decades of political instability, but it is, I think, starting to make a comeback.

As for yoga, I never did get to the one studio here in the city. It's just not very close to my house. I practice at home a lot, though, which means I am also practicing discipline.

What else? Oh, if anyone is going to be in Seattle or Bologna this spring, Commit Me To Memory is having small productions in both places. Strange how the life of that little play goes on.

I think that's about it. If you've made it this far, you are a true friend, really bored at work, or really interested in Guatemala City life. Whatever the reason, I love you for it. Please keep in touch and write when you have time. I have my own office now at work in the afternoons, and have better online access.

I have heard about the Californian snow, dear lord, and I send you some Guatemalan sunshine.

big, big hugs and flealess dreams,

con carino,
karen