Un cambiar de planes

During the four days that I had been with my family up until that point, I had begun to feel more like a boarder and less like a student paying to spend time with a family. There were still numerous members of the family who passed me without saying a word, who I had yet to meet, and my meals were served at separate times from the family, leaving me to eat alone and then listen to their jubilant conversations through my closed door after I had been excused. Granted anyone who has ever lived with me knows that I like my time alone, but I also tried to talk with the family and engage in play with the kids, only to be met with one sentence answers and then ignored, although the kids seemed to warm up to me.

By Thursday, I was beginning to consider what I wanted to do with my remaining three months in Guatemala. I had planned to spend at least 10 weeks in Xela studying, leaving three weeks for travel, but after my first four days, I was plotting ways to leave Xela and find schools in other parts of the country. I had been in language schools twice before and neither time had I been in one that was so unorganized or with a family that was so inhospitable. At first I placated myself by saying that it was my first week and that I should give it time, but as I read posts from people about how great other schools in Xela were and how much they interacted with their families and how much they loved their time here, I began to wonder if I shouldn´t just make the move to another school now and not waste another week trying to see if my current situation would improve. I had decided that I would stick it out for a month and then after traveling with Steven for 10 days in April, I would move on to a new local, but then I found that there was so much to do in Xela - local hikes, volunteer projects, opportunities to build with Habitat Guatemala - that I did not want to limit myself to just two more weekends here and that I should find a school that I like and want to return to.

So, all that said, on Thursday afternoon, I went around to visit three of the schools that had been in my top four. The first school I visited was Celas Maya, my second choice. Walking in to the school, you first walk into a large Internet cafe, followed by a pretty open courtyard surrounding a garden, filled with students and teachers sitting in pairs at small plastic tables. I was directed to the office and asked the woman behind the desk if she could tell me a little about the school. She talked a little about the classes and the activities, after which I asked her if they had room for another student for next week and she replied affirmatively.

Upon leaving Celas Maya, I came upon a line of Guatemalan men in white cowboy hats, stretching down one block, turning around the building and disappearing around the corner. Curious as to what was going on, I asked a man standing near by if he had any idea. Asking to repeat myself in English and apologizing for his sad lack of Spanish in a thick Scottish accent, he explained that his teacher had explained that the government had promised to pay the families of the men who fought in the governments paramilitary service during the war and these men had come to collect. I thanked him for the information and asked him if minded telling me what school he was going to and if he liked it. He replied that he was attending Celas Maya, was really enjoying it and thought that it was a good school. I told him that I might just see him on Monday and excused myself.

The second school that I visited was one I had read had a reputation for a strict program, but one that came highly recommended. I was greeted immediately upon arrival by the director, who gave me the grand tour and explained how the school was run. When I explained vaguely why I was leaving the other school (because I felt I needed more structure) she revealed that she had been one of the original founders of my school and had left for the very same reasons. Upon leaving the school, I met some of the current students in the street, who told me that the school was strict, but that it was a really good place to learn and that they enjoyed the activities. I thanked them and parted for the third school on my list.

Both of the schools I had just visited where in great locations, right near the central park. As I walked in the direction of the third school, passing my street and still walking, I began to wonder just where this school was. I found it some minutes later and was welcomed in and shown to the office where I met the director. The director was extremely friendly and explained the program thoroughly before showing me to the rooftop patio with a beautiful 360 degree view of the surrounding mountains. Thanking him, I took my leave and made my way back towards home, not knowing how I was going to make a decision by the following morning. Over all, the mere fact that all of the three other schools had textbooks and some sort of structure made me glad that I had decided to switch.

I spent that evening going over the pros and cons of all three schools. I enjoy the programs at the school I am attending, but I do not want to have to choose between activities and class, nor do I think that my living situation is a positive one. I was attracted to to the first school I had visited, but it was big and I might spend my time speaking in English making new friends and not enough time speaking Spanish. The second school was attractive because of its structure, but its structure also turned me off a bit. I do want to learn, but I also want to be treated like a responsible adult. The third school had great activities, but was not in such a great location and had the same issue of activities conflicting with classes. I went to bed mulling over my decision and conflicted with feelings of excitement about new possibilities and dread at having to deal with tactfully leaving the other school and family with no hard feelings. I have never been one for conflict.

Friday morning, I still had not made a decision, but I decided to put it off until the afternoon when we returned from our trip to Francisco el Alto, a nearby city where they have a huge Friday market (I was going to write about this, but found a fellow Blogspotter who did a much better job than I could ever do and have included the link here).

When we returned, I headed to Celas Maya to ask a few more questions about the structure and activities schedule and signed up on the spot. I had been leaning towards it and figured that I would go with my instincts (although unfortunately my instincts may tend more towards learning about the intricacies of Guatemala beer than intricacies of the Spanish language...).

So I will be attending dinner at my current school tonight and the trip tomorrow to a local volcano and coffee plantation and evening soccer game and will be making my big move on Sunday. I have yet to inform my first school of my decision to leave (that conflict aversion again rearing its ugly head) because I do not want things to be weird this weekend, but I plan to let them know by Saturday or Sunday at the latest (nothing like waiting until the last minute!). I am sad to be leaving because I like the people and I truly wanted to participate in the projects, but I do want to enjoy my time here as well as learn the language and I do not see that happening in my current circumstances. I hope I made the right decision!