Food Feature: Learning experience

We were sitting three to a seat on a school bus — the most common form of transport in Guatemala — barreling down twisty and mountainous roads. It was standing room only as people, produce and livestock vied for space on a bus bound for Quetzaltenango, the second largest city nestled in the highlands of this volcanic country.

Guatemala was one of the most colorful nations we visited during our 15-month around-the-world odyssey. It felt great to be on the road again, to be surrounded by the chaos and energy of the underdeveloped world and to hear Spanish being spoken once more. After all, that’s why we came to Central America, to spend a month learning the native language.

Guatemala is one of the best places in the world to learn Spanish. For one, it is outrageously inexpensive. Average tuition at any of the scores of reputable schools here, which includes five hours of daily one-on-one instruction, five days a week, as well as room and board with a local family, is $125 a week. The instruction was excellent, as this is an industry that has been developing for many years. And living with a Guatemalan family provided complete linguistic and cultural immersion.

We chose to study in Quetzaltenango — known locally by its Mayan name, Xela (pronounced “Shayla”) — a town that sits high in the mountains at an often chilly altitude of 7,700 feet. After visiting over half a dozen schools, we decided on the Juan Sisay Spanish School because it is a nonprofit cooperative that is operated and owned by the Spanish instructors, meaning they have a direct interest in the performance and progress of the program. Part of the students’ tuition is donated toward the education of rural indigenous children. On top of all that, we were promised a good family with our own bathroom. That sealed the deal.

On our first day of class, we started off at 7:50 a.m. for the short walk to school. We passed the one-story homes and businesses packed tightly along the streets, the bright, slightly worn pastel exteriors of many of the buildings belying the poverty within. Stray dogs too hungry to be mean and men passed out on corners and stoops were constant reminders that we were in a Third World country. But this is one of the few countries where the culture of the indigenous people is asserted so prominently. The Mayan’s traditional clothing, carefully crafted garments embroidered with patterns and screaming with color, inject the joy of all the rainbow’s hues into scenes of everyday life.

The streets were just coming to life as we arrived at the school with three other new students from Denmark, Germany and Canada. Each of us was introduced to our appointed instructors and the learning began.

Each day was generally the same. Classes began at 8 a.m. and ended at 1 p.m. They were held on the open roof, on the second floor of the school. There were 14 cubicles, partitioned on three sides by plywood walls colorfully painted with childlike jungle scenes. In each cubicle sat a table and two chairs. Certainly nothing fancy but perfectly conducive to intimate learning. It’s just you and your instructor, speaking, writing and reading Spanish, using various materials based on the instructor’s perception of your strengths and weaknesses. Every bit of instruction is conducted in Spanish, so we were immersed from the start.

The afternoons were occupied with a school activity. One day we met with a former guerilla who fought for decades in the people’s revolution. Other days we visited nearby villages and markets. We even learned how to dance the salsa. The most rewarding times, however, were the afternoons we spent teaching English in a nearby rural school. The children were extremely polite and interested in learning English and all about the United States.

Each day after class we would return to the home of our host family. We lived with the Loarcas for three weeks, and felt like we belonged from the beginning. Our first meal was typical of all the meals we would share. We gathered in the small dining room bathed in a warm light and decorated with aged mementos evoking an antique store of unusual tastes. In the kitchen, a wood stove was working heartily as Señora Loarca prepared the midday meal: black beans, scrambled eggs, tortillas and fried bananas. Simple, but plenty tasty.

Various family members gradually joined us until the table was full. The father of the family, Carlos, arrived, his fingers permanently blackened with auto grime, but wearing the perpetual smile that was his hallmark. He welcomed us to his home with effusive sincerity. We quickly became acquainted with one of the most endearing qualities of Guatemalan life: a closeness of the extended family that often eludes us here in the States.

We ate every meal with our new family. Nothing but Spanish was spoken at the table, as none of the Loarcas speak English. It was difficult at first, but each meal was festive and filled with conversation so it didn’t take long for us to join in on family discussions, most of which focused on one topic — soccer.

So when Carlos later asked if we would like to see Xela battle Guatemala City in soccer, we jumped at the chance to see soccer Guatemalan style. Little did we know we would be greeted with madness. Shooting bottle rockets at opposing players — and often coming shockingly close — was totally acceptable and encouraged. Effigies were hung on the chain-link fence separating the maddening crowds from the playing field and lit aflame. Meanwhile others lit road flares, letting them burn out in their hands held aloft. This highly charged event was one of the highlights of our stay.

Before we knew it, three weeks of classes passed and graduation night arrived. The school hosted a party and we received diplomas, symbolizing that we had accomplished our goal: Our Spanish had improved immensely. Yet we had accomplished so much more. We now had new friends, a new family and a home forever in Guatemala.

For more information about studying Spanish in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, see www.Xelapages.com or www.Amerispan.com Go to www.2goglobal.com for updates on Rich and Kelly Willis’ round-the-world travels.??