I'm not wearing any pants right now...

...and there's a good reason for it.

First, let me explain to you that I only have five (yes, 1-2-3-4-FIVE) pairs of jeans here. And my #1 very favorite top-gun most excellent A-1 mucho bueno pair of jeans are my good ol' Levis. I looove these jeans. I've had them for yeeeears. Like a trusted friend, these low-rise denim jeans have been there through all of my ups and downs (emotionally, physically, weight-wise, etc.) and they have magically form-fitted to my body. They are loose where they need to be loose, snug where they need to be snug, and don't give me what I call "bucket butt" -- where the back gapes open and shows your bootie when you bend over. Gotta love a pair of jeans like that, right?

Something bad happenend to my beloved Levi's the other day. I could have cried; I know I let out a little whimper. I looked down and -- gasp! -- there was a little tear in them.

NOOOOOOO!

Sad, but true. I have no idea how it happened, but there's a small rip just above my right knee. I figure it will only get worse from here. That little tear is going to slowly grow and grow and grow until I have to hold my pant leg on with safety pins. (How attractive.) I wonder if I should do the humane thing and put them out of their misery before they suffer too much, similar to Old Yeller...

So, the reason I'm not wearing any pants is because I needed to read the tag inside my jeans and NOT because I'm some strange "blog-when-you're-naked" pervert. I'm sending out an SOS (or, an SOJ, in my case) to all of you good people out in Blogger Land. If anyone can hunt down a pair of Levi's 313 Nouveau Boot Cut jeans, size 6M, I would be MUCH obliged. (Actually, the little brown leather tag on the outside of the jeans says they're a "515 M" -- who knows what that means?) I don't know how I will ever get these jeans from you, but I looked and looked for a replacement pair back when I was in the States, but couldn't find anything quite as perfect as this pair. I know it will be damn near impossible to replace my wonderful hip-hugging, comfie jeans, but I thought I'd throw my request out there and see what happens...

(Funny -- Joel just walked in the room and said, "Jenny...Why are you almost naked?")  :-)

Until we meet again, stay thristy my friends!

Harry Potter ain't got nothing on the Wizz-zards of Guatemala

Having no toilet seat is pretty common.
This is when those "hovering" skills
really come handy. And believe it or not,
this was the ladies room in a decent
 restaurant -- not some little dive in the
market! I'm usually just happy when
 bathrooms have toilet paper. And if
they have SOAP, too? Well, that's
like winning the Potty Lottery!

Hello again... It's me.

I've said it before and I'll say it again -- MEN HAVE IT SOOO EASY. Especially when it comes to making their bladders gladder. The line for the men's room is never long. They can sit. They can stand. They can even wee with a drink in their hand. (I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam I Am.) They can even write their names in the snow. Women aren't so lucky. (Plus, my name is long and I think I'd have trouble dotting the "i.") We gals have to squat, lean or hover when the time comes. Ooooh, the misery!

But this story is more about Guatemalan men and the extraordinary powers they have when it comes to peeing.

Let me 'splain.

Guatemalan men think they become invisible when they pee in public.

Yep. They believe as long as they have something to AIM at (a light post, a wall, a tire, a rock, an ant hill) no one can see what they're doing.

Really guys? I mean, REALLY?

It's nassssty. I don't want to walk down the street and be surprised by a guy who is obviously NOT invisible wizzing away on a light post. Or by the side of a car. Or on a wall at the market.

So, here's a little advice for you Guate dudes from your good buddy, Jennifer: 

• THE LIGHT POST DOES NOT MAKE YOU INVISIBLE.
• WE CAN STILL SEE YOU.
• WE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING.
• WE REEEEALLY DON'T LIKE IT. 

Plus, the men here must have hummingbird-sized bladders because not a day goes by when I don't see a man peeing away like his life depends on it. Oh, and they really aren't picky about what they're peeing on -- just last weekend we saw not one but TWO men wizzing on the wall of a church. A CHURCH? I mean, isn't that sacrilegious? I think so. Joel honked the horn as we drove past them -- I hope it scared them and they peed on their shoes. I have often yelled "HEY!" when I see a taxi driver who has pulled over on my street to pee on a wall. They usually finish quickly, looking embarrassed that their Powers Of Invisibility have failed them, and drive away without looking back. Grrrr. My street is NOT their toilet! Grrrr-grrr-grrrrr...

The happy face tortilla, my trademark

Anyway, there you have it. Watch your step when you walk on the sidewalks here. 

 

Oh, and here's a picture of something I did at lunch today. Anyone who has known me for any length of time will know that no tortilla is safe when I'm around.

Until we meet again, stay thirsty my friends!

Here, I am a GIANT



Me and Joel... Damn, I didn't realize
that Godzilla could shoot fire like that...
I think Joel has the advantage here.

I am only 5'4". I've never been referred to as tall or "statuesque." I will never get a phone call from Victoria's Secret asking me to wear a diamond-studded bra and matching thong in their next fashion show. My body type would best be described as "rounded at all edges." I'm not chubby, but there are parts of me that jiggle beyond my control. I resemble a stocky little bridge troll with my small feet, thick "Man Calves" (which make finding cute winter boots a bitch) and my short T-Rex arms. I once had a boyfriend tell me I was "unconventionally pretty." Ummm...thanks? (I think?)



But here in Guatemala, I am a giant. I mean it. The indigenous people here are very short and I am taller than most of them -- even the men. When Joel and I are at the market, I have no problem finding him in a crowd. (His Spanish genes ganged up on his Mayan genes and he grew to almost 6 feet tall.) If I am a giant, he is Godzilla. So that's it -- together we are Godzilla and Mothra, towering over the frightened villagers, making them scream and run for cover.

(Ok, they don't run and scream, but it's funny to think that they might.)


Godzilla Joel with his sister, Emma (in blue shirt)
and her daughters. Oh, by the way, Emma and her
daughters are very nice -- it's just that people
don't smile for pictures here. I dunno why.



And not only that, but I get lots of attention -- from men and women alike -- because I don't look like everyone else. Again, it's not that I'm a supermodel or a rock star. I just stand out. Most people here have dark hair, dark skin, dark eyes. (Although, strangely enough, there is a small group of albino indigenous people here, which is really unique.) I have reddish hair, light skin, and green eyes. The eyes get the most attention, but just a week or two ago, I had a deeeeelightfully gay man go ga-ga over my hair. He said, "Oh your hair -- it is lovely! I like it very much! It is bee-yoo-tee-ful! With your skin and eyes -- bee-yoo-tee-ful!" He touched my hair and explained that he was a hairdresser and his name was Fernando. I smiled and had to choke back my laughter at the obviousness of it all. Of course his name was Fernando...of course he was a hairdresser. Any other occupation or name would not have worked. So I am a big hit with gay Guatemalan hairdressers, if nothing else.

So, if you want to stand out in a crowd or feel really TALL, come visit us!

Until we meet again, stay thirsty my friends...

Ten Reasons Why I'm Cool

This is my "Don't Touch My
Popcorn" face. If you think I'm
kidding, just try me. You'll
probably lose a finger.
Possibly an entire hand.

 1.   I can eat my body weight in popcorn. (Anyone who has ever gone to a movie with me knows how dangerous it is to try and take the bucket of popcorn out of my hands. Many have tried. All have failed. I went on a first date with a guy who wouldn't let me hold the popcorn... Needless to say, it was our only date.)
2.   I still get excited when it's my birthday. (Doesn't everyone?)
3.   I know the words to "I Think I Love You" by The Partridge Family. (This is only cool if you are a member of The Partridge Family or a member of The Partridge Family Fan Club... of which I am neither.)


Mine is like this, but greeeeeen.
How cool is that?

 3.   I own a green t-shirt with the Millennium Falcon on it. (I know, I know...you are really jealous.)
4.   I am a Ninja. (But don't tell anyone.)
5.   I have driven a car in Guatemala City...and survived. (Even worse, I have ridden in a chicken bus from Guatemala City...and luckily survived.)
6.   I believe a really good grilled cheese sandwich can cure any illness. (Well, unless you are lactose intolerant...)
7.   I can recite almost every word in the movie "The Princess Bride." ("Anybody want a peanut?")

Yes, this size of spider is worthy
of my fear. (The one on the left,
that is. The "spider" on the right is
Joel's hand, demonstrating what a
big-ass spider this is.)

8.   I have climbed 4 volcanoes and have poked at lava with a stick. (It's gooey like Silly Putty, but much, much hotter.)
9.   I am not afraid of spiders. (Unless they are reallllly big.) (And have fangs.) (And growl.)
10. I know how to use a chainsaw. (It's fun for the whole family!)

Pictures of the CRAPartment

Due to this apartment ranking high on the Crap-O-Meter (we don't call it "Casa de la Caca" for nothing) and also because the landlady's son is a EVIL D-bag who tries to make everyone's life miserable, we will be leaving at the end of this month.

Do we have a new place to live yet? Noooo. Are we worried? Slightly. Have we been looking? Oh yes indeed!

We've seen a wide range of living arrangements -- from "apartments" (and I use that term loosely only because calling it a "prison cell from Alcatraz" might have offended the lady who showed it to us) that had a piece of plywood for a door and a chain and padlock for a door lock, to places with beautiful views, glassed in patios, and community pools (which were about 10x out of our price range)... We've seen it all.

It's depressing to say this, but the place we will probably end up is a first floor apartment that has ONE small window in the entire place. It's super cheap, it's only a few blocks from where we currently live, and it's NEW. Yes, it's decent inside and has new appliances and all that stuff, but DAAAAMN, it's going to be like living in a cave. Joel and I will have to start calling ourselves Pebbles and Bam-Bam. And here's another unsavory fact about the possible new apartment -- you have to walk through someone else's house (the kitchen, to be exact) to get to ours. Eeeew. I'm not too keen on that idea. I hope-hope-hope the neighbors don't like to cook in the buff. I reeeeaaaally don't want to get to know them that well. And you should never really cook in the nude anyway -- I mean, grease burns hurt enough when they land on your bare hands... OUCH.

In the meantime, enjoy the following pictures of our soon-to-be ex-apartment.



Notice how the light switch is inside the shower?
Yep, safety is our #1 concern here in Guatemala...
Plus, you have to swivel your way through the tiny bathrooom
in order to get to the bedroom. Convenience is
our #2 concern here in Guatemala...



These curtains are just overgrown lace doilies. They are perfect
for an exhibitionist who wants to be seen naked in their house, while
maintaining their innocence... "I don't know how they saw me naked!
I do have curtains on my windows, you know..." Riiiight.
The only room without these curtains is the bedroom which has striped red
"velveteen" curtains, which were most likely purchased when Hugh Heffner
had a garage sale at the Playboy Mansion.



Yes folks, THIS is our super-comfy (ha!), super-plastic,
circa 1965 plastic lawn furniture sofa. This is really cool
patio furniture, but it's terrible for a living room. We'd love to
move this to the roof but the landlady would have a cow.
(Not shown are the two matching chairs.)
(Yes, we are lucky enough to have the entire set.)



Ahhh, and here's a shot of our high-quality windows that look out
to other high-quality windows... Niiice. Be sure to note the lovely
avocado green appliances in the kitchen. Oh, and did I mention that the
oven dial has NO NUMBERS on it? I mean, how can you cook something
at 375 degrees when you have no idea what the temperature is?
I'm a bad enough cook as it is -- give me a fighting chance!
Numbers! I need NUMBERS!



Speaking of windows... Here's a picture looking up at our bathroom windows.
Notice how the one in the middle isn't quite big enough to fit the frame?
You wouldn't think it would make a big difference, but considering the apartment
has no heating, you can really FEEL the cold wind when it comes a-whistlin'
through this gap! Especially at night. And especially when you've just
stepped out of the shower. Brrrrr!



And here's Joel standing at the gate to our complex. That gate is a beeyatch
to open when we need to get the car out -- it has 4 different panels with hinges
and pegs that go in the ground and in the upper frame. UUUGH.

Wish us luck on our hunt for the next casa! I will keep you posted on all of the fun we're having in our search and will post pics of the new place...wherever it may be. Until we meet again, stay thirsty my friends!

Life with the dogs...or "Why Jennifer is covered in dog hair and smells like Alpo"

"Please don't touch me!
Well, ok... that feels niiiice..."

You asked for it, here are some more "tails" from the rescue dogs at the Puppy Palace.

CANDY

 Candy arrived the day before Halloween, hence the name "Candy." She's a mixed breed -- part German Shepherd, part Tasmanian Devil. We have since discovered that "Big Bertha" or "Grisnelda" or "BRUTUS" would have suited her better. She's more like a Sherman Tank than a sweet little sugary treat. You know how in school there was that one big burly girl that was not very fluffy or feminine and would've been a great right tackle on the football team? Well, that's Candy. It's not that she's not sweet -- she gives "Candy Kisses" to the other dogs (and to us) every chance she gets -- it's just that she doesn't know her own size. She literally bowls over the other dogs and knocks 'em down when she's playing. Saying she likes to play rough (or ruff -- ha ha -- I'm such a dork) is an understatement. The only dog that can handle her body-slamming is Chowzers, and that's probably because he's covered in a 4-inch layer of thick fur (sort of a built-in "fur koozie") which provides a cushion from her blows.

When Candy arrived, she was about 7 months old and couldn't open her eyes. It's a wonder she didn't walk in front of a car and get hit. She had a terrible eye infection in her tear ducts which made it painful for her to open her eyes. Candy was afraid to be touched, but allowed us to approach only because she couldn't see well enough to do anything about it.



"I seeeee yoooooou..."


After some antibiotics and some TLC, she is up and around and as active as any dog I've ever seen. And I do mean ACTIVE. Her favorite thing in the world is to run free at the finca with the other dogs. You should see her go! Her Tasmanian Devil really comes out when you set her free.

And she is a scrounger -- on walks, her head is 3 inches off the ground the entire time, sniffing away looking for any little crumb or snack that someone might've accidentally dropped on the ground. Candy would scale Mount Everest if she thought there was one tasty piece of kibble waiting for her. Typical of most street dogs, she hasn't quite figured out that she doesn't need to scrounge for meals, because she will get fed at the Puppy Palace. Then again, her obsession with food makes it easy to train her, since she will do anything (sit, stay, lie down, do a cha-cha, moonwalk, etc.) for a snack.
 



"Mime mot mad. My mip mistuck..."



Say "cheeeeeese"

Oh, and here's something funny about our Candy Girl... Her upper lip sometimes gets caught under her gums and it looks like she's smiling. One of the funniest things I've ever seen is Candy looking up at me with her lip stuck. Linda jokes that we will use these as Candy's "adopt me" pictures.

"I am so much more
 than just a street dog."

AMIGO

Little Amigo is near and dear to my heart. Joel and I rescued him one night in November when we were out eating street food for dinner. (I'm a cheap date -- a street food dinner costs about Q27 -- for both of us -- roughly $3.25.) It's not unusual for a street dog to come begging for scraps when you eat street food (the temptation to steal food must be overwhelming for them) but there was something about this little dog... He was so tiny we thought he was just a puppy. He was skinny. He had these awful scabs on the back of his head. His ears were crusted over. He had a deep gash around his neck where someone had tied a rope. He was so dirty we couldn't tell what color his fur was.
But he had these lovely eyes that said, "I am so much more than just a street dog."

We couldn't leave him behind.


We desperately tried calling Terry and Linda to make sure it was ok for us to bring another dog to the Puppy Palace, but couldn't get in touch with them. UGH! We decided to take him anyway. I had a gut feeling they'd be ok with it and I was right.



Amigo's head wounds --
and you can see where the
rope was around his neck

We named him "Amigo" ("friend") because we knew that he would make someone a great little friend. He was very timid at first, but he let us pet him after he figured out our intentions were good. (Most street dogs have never been petted in their life -- the only hands they ever see are the ones reaching out to hit them or shoo them away.)

 

On the car ride to the Puppy Palace, we were surprised at how well Amigo did considering it was probably his first car ride. No puke, no pee, no nervous poops and no trying to claw his way out. (He might have had a little gas...or maybe it was just Joel blaming it on the dog, I dunno). During the ride, I told him what I always tell our new dogs, "I know you're scared right now, but believe me, your life is going to be SO much better." (Some of them believe me, others are skeptical, but in the end they all agree that yes, their lives are better...)

When the vet checked him out a couple days later we found out he was a YEAR old from looks of his pearly white teeth. He was tiny was because he was so malnourished. And the scabs on his head (and chin, we discovered later) were from him being hit by a car. Luckily for Amigo, he was so small the car dragged him instead of crushing him. We think he may have had a broken rib, too. Sheeeesh. Poor Amigo! 

"Don't even think about
taking this ball away from me."



After giving him a bath, we found out Amigo was a white dog with grey accents. He was sooo happy to be clean, he actually pranced. Maybe it was because he was lighter without all that dirt and goo, but he acted happy and frisky.

  

"Yeah, I know I'm a good looking guy..."



Well, fast-forward to January 2011 -- I can't believe it's only been a month and a half -- and look at him now! He looks great and he is SUCH A NICE DOG. I mean it, he is a great little guy and a friend to all people and dogs that he meets. And I shouldn't say "little" because he's doubled in size since arriving at the Puppy Palace. And WOW -- what a good looking guy! He was always cute, but now that he's clean and his ribs aren't protruding and his head and ears are healed, he is really handsome. He looks like a baby wolf. He loooves to play with the tennis ball and barks and growls at it as if it was talking back to him. A typical dog, but again, sooo very nice. And happy.

See Amigo? Your life really did get better!

GUS

Check out those soulful eyes!

What can I say about Mr. Gus? If you were to ask me what kind of dog he is, I'd simply say "a brown one." He's your basic brown dog. We all agree the only way to describe his eyes is soulful. He has wise and soulful brown eyes. Gus is an old dude and has had a hard life. When he was first brought in, all he did was sleep. And eat. Sleeping and eating were Gus' #1 and #2 activities. (I'd tell you what his #3 activity was, but I think you know.) It was as if he was amazed and relieved that he had a soft bed and was afraid that if he left it for very long, we'd change our minds and take his bed away and put him back on the street. So, for the first few weeks we left Mr. Gus to his sleeping and eating duties and though the other dogs were romping around him, Gus didn't budge. Linda bought him a special bed full of cedar shavings, so for the first few days of him lounging on it, he'd smell like a cedar hope chest. (Kind of nice!) He'd growl if one of the dogs got too close to his bed or invaded his space, but he never bit anyone. Gus is your typical "my bark is waaay worse than my bite" kind of guy.

"Don't touch my bed! Mine! Mine!"

Gus is warming up to people. At first, he lowered his head when you reached down to pet him, but he's starting to let us rub his chin and has started to roll over and ask for a belly rub. And when he's really into it, he'll start making happy grunting/growling noises while you pet him. If you stop, he'll put your hand in his mouth -- he never bites down, but it's his way of saying, "Me likey the petting. You keep petting now, please."

Gus has come out of his shell in the past couple of weeks. And boy oh boy is he a different dog! Toss the tennis ball to him and he's bounding after it. He's super uncoordinated -- he's got these long gangly legs -- but damn, he is determined to get that ball! And once he has the ball, it's game over. Gus = 1. You = 0. Gus wins.

Oh and did I mention that part of coming out of his shell means Gus likes to BARK? Yeeees, he barks and he barks and he barks at nothing in particular. One of the dogs gets a drink. Gus barks. A loud car drives by the house. Gus barks. The sun is shining. Gus barks. A leaf blows by. Gus barks. And so on. We joke that we will rename him Bob...as in Bob Barker.

JAKE



Beautiful, shy Jake

Poor, beautiful Jake. I mean it -- he's really a looker. He has the most interesting multicolored feet I've ever seen. He was one of the street dogs Candy played with before she was rescued, but it took longer to snag Jake. By the time we got him, he had Distemper. Not good. Seriously NOT GOOD. The other dogs had been vaccinated (whew!) so they were safe. Linda and Terry medicated him with everything on the market and we are keeping a very close eye on our new friend. Jake has the body twitches associated with Distemper, which are permanent, and we are hoping that's the extent of the damage.  

Like Gus, all Jake wanted to do for a while was sleep. But unlike Gus, Jake didn't want to eat. Terry and Linda did everything they could to make his food appealing. He needed to eat! He was skinny skinny skinny, but had no appetite. (Another side effect of the Distemper.) Amigo would come and lie down and keep him company (gotta love that Amigo!) while the other dogs romped and tackled each other. We coddled him and cuddled him until the Distemper had run its course.



Jake and his buddy, Amigo



Luckily, Jake is feeling better now, looks forward to feeding time, and eats with gusto. And he's up and around and playing with the other dogs like he was never sick. His twitchy leg will always be twitchy, but he's feeling much, much better.

HOBO


Baby Hobo sitting in the toy box



Hobo, Hobo, Hobo... He's the littlest and youngest addition to our pack. His name is fitting, as he was homeless and out wandering the streets alongside (though reluctantly) a true hobo.

 Hobo's first few months of life were hellish. He was somehow "obtained" by a crazy homeless guy. Luckily for Hobo, the crazy homeless guy decided to wander by the Puppy Palace one day while Terry and I were outside. He was dragging poor Hobo around by a shoestring. OUCH!

Terry struck up a conversation with the crazy homeless guy and ended up convincing him to sell Hobo to us for Q10 (about $1.25). The crazy homeless guy happily took the money and handed us his dog without a second thought. We immediately cut the shoestring off of Hobo's neck and gave him food and water. I've never seen a dog drink and eat so much, so fast. He had probably never had a good meal or access to clean water in his entire life.


He's cute, huh? A great bargain for $1.25!



Hobo's belly was protruding (a sign of worms) and he had fleas and doggy dandruff. All were taken care of within the first couple of weeks with shots, a bath, and Pepto Bismol. (Yep, it's not just for humans anymore.)

Hobo is a sweet little guy. He's a great little lap dog (for now -- he's gonna be big later) and will happily fall asleep while you're holding him. At first, we were concerned about putting him with the older, bigger dogs, but soon found out that Hobo can hold his own. I used to feel sorry on him, watching him wrestle with the other guys (ie:  BRUTUS, I mean CANDY) but after watching the dogs for a while I realized nooo, Hobo is the instigator in most of the wrestling matches. He nips at the other dogs and they say, "One more time, Hobo, and I'm going to kick your butt..." and of course Hobo pushes his luck and gets tumbled and pinned. You can tell when Hobo gets really riled up because he gets what can only been referred to as "Hobo's Psycho Bark" -- a high-pitched craaaaazy constant bark-bark-bark. When we hear that, we try to give everyone a break... from Hobo. Ahhh, but it's all in good fun.

See the little black dog in the middle of the action?
Yep, that's our little wallflower, Hobo!

We hope to send Hobo and Amigo to a rescue group in California together. I will miss them dearly, but their lives will be sooo much better there.

...And for your viewing pleasure, here are some other photos taken at the Puppy Palace...

Chowzers in his "tent" -- we discovered that Chow
likes to feel "covered" so we built a little hideout
for him with blankets

Candy giving "kisses" to Gus (whether he wants them or not!)

Believe it or not, this is what it looks like when they're playing.

Sweet Jake laying in the sun

Until we meet again, stay thirsty my friends!

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth (and some LAVA)




Fa-la-la-la-laaaa...
Christmas Day on the moon?
No, it's Pacaya Volcano!  



Have you ever done something and smiled to yourself thinking, "Never, in a million gazillion years did I ever think I'd do this..." If so, welcome to my happy little poco loco world.



Raise your hand if you've ever climbed a volcano on Christmas Day.

Anyone? Anyone? Am I the only one with my hand up?

Now raise your hand if you've ever climbed a volcano on Christmas Day with a group of Dutch geologists who live in Mexico...
Anyone? Helloooo? Is this thing on?

And keep your hand up if while driving back from said volcano on Christmas Day with said Dutch geologists, the super-fun 1980's song "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls comes on the radio. 
Yes? No? Am I the only one who has experienced this? Seriously?

For those who may have forgotten the aforementioned super-fun 80's song, here are just some of the lyrics:

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah!

It's Raining Men! Amen!

I'm gonna go out and let myself get

Absolutely soaking wet!

It's Raining Men! Hallelujah!

It's Raining Men! Every specimen!

Tall, blonde, dark and lean

Rough and tough and strong and mean!

And if you really want a blast from the past, here's a link to the super-fun, super-colorful, super-Speedo-rific video of this song. You won't be able to get this tune out of your head (even by hitting it against a wall) so click with caution! http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1hvge_its-raining-men-weather-girls_music

There’s no way you can be in a bad mood while watching that video. It's just too funny. I die laughing when the ladies "fall" out of the building and the men "rain" down from the sky. Golly, it just looks SO REAL. And for no apparent reason, there's a random shot of one woman with flowers in her hair. My question is: How much Baby's Breath did it take to make this video? Plus, are men's overcoats really that short? Funny. Funny. Funny. I wonder if the male dancers in this video used it as a way to pick up women? As in, "Hey, baby, have you seen the new video by The Weather Girls? Well, I'm the guy in the green Speedo... Can I buy you a drink?" Then again, by the looks of some of those men, they were probably hitting on each other. I'm just sayin'...

Ahh, but I digress…


See the steam? And see how the right side of the volcano
is gone? Mark my words, that sucker is going to BLOW...



A broken tower on the side
of the volcano

Ok, so Christmas Day Joel and I really DID climb Pacaya Volcano with some Dutch tourists. Joel met them at work on Christmas Eve and they wanted to go to the volcano but didn't want to use a tourism company yada-yada-yada and next thing I know, Joel and I are getting up at the buttcrack of dawn on Christmas Day to accompany them to Pacaya. We've climbed it twice before and yes, this is the volcano that erupted in May 2010. But it wasn't until I saw it for myself that I realized the extent of the damage from the eruption. Climbing the volcano has always made me feel like I'm on a Lunar Landscape, but this time it was especially eerie. You could see where the side of the volcano had blown out from the explosion. Trees that were alive when we climbed it in March 2010 were just blackened twigs with tiny leaves trying to sprout out. Buildings had been destroyed and a radio tower was bent in half like it was made of tin foil. Scary!

 

Pacaya - Nov. 2008   The lava was so close and so HOT,
after this picture was taken I literally reached back and
 felt my butt to make sure it wasn't on fire.

It was a maaaaajor bummer, but there was no lava coming from the volcano on Christmas Day. We'd heard rumors that the lava flow had stopped because of the eruption, and they proved to be true. All we saw were giant plumes of steam coming from the top and sides. Phooey. Joel and I agree that the first time we climbed it in 2008 was the best – we were right next to a slow-moving stream of lava. It was awesome to poke the lava with our walking stick and play with it like mad scientists. But this time, nope, nada, nein, zip, zilch, no lava. PHOOEY. But while we were up there, we got to see Fuego Volcano erupt (which is closer to Antigua and erupts every day) and took some nice pictures from afar. I will never get tired of seeing it erupt.
 

Pacaya - March 2010  We could see the lava flowing
beneath our feet, so we roasted marshmallows over
some of the cracks in the ground.

Another rumor we’d heard was that Pacaya was due to erupt again -- but this time bigger than the last. They even closed it to tourists for a month or two out of safety concerns – and if you know anything about the lax Guatemalan security, you’d know that that was a VERY big deal because there are NO safety concerns. Ever. On anything. (Have I mentioned that there are no laws about putting babies in car seats? Or that it's ok here to ride on a motorcycle with 4 people on it -- including an infant? GAH! Makes me crazy.)  

Obviously, it didn’t erupt while we were there. If it had, I could add "Be showered with hot burning magma during a volcanic eruption with a group of Dutch geologists on Christmas Day" to my list of "Never, in a million gazillion years did I ever think I'd do this..."

Until later, enjoy your New Year and stay thirsty my friends!

 

Here are two dogs that followed us up the volcano. These are smart dogs -- they follow people
going up the volcano knowing that they have food in their backpacks and might
share some with them... They took a break when we stopped to take pictures.



  The eruption of Fuego Volcano in the distance... OoooOOoh! Isn't that cool?