Santa Cruz La Laguna

 Mi Casa

First View

My first impression of the house was: ‘oh my god I’m going to be living here for the next seven and a half weeks!’ Flies seemingly permeated every inch of the house. Just past the gate fence and the wooden gate in the house, I could see a few people eating at a small table and I thought, ‘how on earth are we supposed to all eat together around that tiny table.’ It could barely pass for a night-stand. In the line of site of the doorway are two doorways, inside of one I could see an old dirty fridge., while the other was difficult to see inside. On the left side is a small wooden wall that sticks out, obscuring the view of the stone sink. To the immediate left of the doorway is a tiny opening; about the size a German shepherd would barely fit through standing up. I later learned this was the temascal.

Mi cuadro

My room is the first room in the house. There is a red stripe along the bottom of the wall all the way around the room, but it is mostly blanco. There are two paintings on my wall, one by Andres M. I think my host brother painted both. I’m not sure which Andres it was though. In my room there is also the same goldenrod and rojo tile that goes throughout the entire house. A purple trash can with a white lid sits under the open window, where the flies continue to seep through. The shutters made of wood are surrounded by a pink flowery curtain that hangs by a string nailed into the wall on two sides. One wall has plaster missing and cement bricks can be seen for almost the whole height of the wall. In the corner sits a twin bed with a pink, blue and white plaid blanket with two small and one bigger pillow. The blanket has little tassels on two sides. Next to my bed is my dresser with a lock on it. At first I didn’t think I would need to use it until Cruz came into my room and wanted to organize my clothes for me, which I had to let her do. Next to my dresser is a table with a blue plaid tablecloth. Later, it would be accompanied by a table with a more traditional cloth on it. That is set underneath the small pegs for hanging my things.

The wooden door has a brand new lock that is the same as the doors in the clinic as well as the rest of the house. My ceiling is wooden and barren apart from the single light-bulb in the center of the room. There are two sets of outlets for my electricity, and both are hanging from wires attached somewhere in the ceiling. The light switch looks something like a computer mouse.

Rute q’aq’

Further down the main hallway of the house is what could be called the kitchen. This is where Cruz generally spends her days. The first thing I see on the table is a thick white mixture in a bowl that I can tell is some kind of dough. I have come to know this dough well because the tortillas it makes accompany nearly every meal. The tortillas are slowly worked into circles and placed on a white ceramic surface above burners. Near the floor is the same type of surface, only it is fueled by firewood. Against the wall on shelves above the stove lies several ingredients for cooking, most of which I don’t recognize. Sugar is among these ingredients in a huge container. Meals take place around a plastic foldout table that has obviously within a very short time before my arrival. When I sit at my end of the table, the green sticker that came on the brand new table is still present. The plastic outdoors we sit in to eat are filthy. Covered in grime from several years of use. They lie in stark contrast to the rosada walls with a grey cement stripe through the middle. Behind a red bug curtain with flowers is the bed of Andres the younger. His clothes seem to be piled up on a chair with a cooler underneath. The TV is above the dresser and has a screen half the size of my computer. This is where we watch movies in Spanish on Sunday nights. There are two other bedrooms, the one with two refrigerators belongs to Jose and Cruz. There is also a table with some sort of device for preparing fruit or something that I have never seen before.

The other room belongs to Cecilia, and has a small bed that everyone seems to sit on and hang out on when the family is talking to each other. Across from Cecilia’s room is the bathroom with a brand new door of new wood and a door with old wood that has broken pieces at the bottom. The toilet is in the brand new bathroom, the size of an Italian shower (ie…I can barely fit). Next to the toilet is the stone sink, one side to fill completely with water that I could sit inside with plenty of room. It is probably bigger in width on both sides that the room with the toilet. Attached on the other side of the sink is a surface with bumps that are the same as the public washbasin just outside our door. Cecilia’s room is in the center of the house, and seems to be the place where

Community

Outside the ruchi’ jay

The public washbasin has 4 sinks per side in a square shape with a faucet that is always on in the center. There is a little tienda next to the washbasin that sells small bagged snacks and a couple drinks. Directly past the washbasinis the clinic with two levels, each of a different color. Atop the clinic a new level is going up that is currently rebar sticking up into the sky.  The clinic, library, school, Catholic church and Salón politica all surround the basketball court at the center of town. There is not much else in town other than four more Evangelical churches and the Amigos de Santa Cruz. Everywhere else are houses made of various materials in various states of cleanliness and strange attachments. Dogs permeate the streets almost as much as the flies did my house. Up the hill a ways is the water take that my host mom took me to. I think it is now antiquated that most people have running water.

Pueblo

Throughout a walk through town one can see various paint colors supporting the different political parties for the elections. If you are not careful, one of the four or five trucks or the three Tuk-Tuks may run you over. Santa Cruz itself is a ways up the mountain with an amazing view of the lake on un día claro. There is a split in the road that takes you to the muelle or the ritzier hotel side of Santa Cruz where the soccer field likes down the mountain.

Muelle

If you take the road to the muelle you find the gringo tourist hotels at the bottom of the hill. On the walk down it is easy to see exactly where the ex-pats and gringos live in the nicer houses that are made completely of the same materials instead of strewn together with whatever is available. The colors of the hotels attempt to scream Central American, but the people sitting in them and those serving them helps one to realize who is really in control of the hotel. My house seems a bit less modern than some of those around it.

At the very bottom of the hill where the muelle is, the Tuk-Tuks are parked and the drivers chat with the boat captains until there is the occasional shout of ‘Pana.’ In the water are the typical blue boats of Lago Atitlan and a dock half underwater.