El pasado

Everyday I spend here makes me appreciate time and love a little more. I suppose one way to look at this adventure is a way to examine what I desire to accomplish, who I want to become, and how I can be transformed. Thankfully, there is no demand to figure out what anything means right now, unless it is what the waiter is trying to tell me or my teacher is attempting to get through my already confused and twisted brain...
For example, today was a history lesson. Yesterday was a walk in the past.
Ayer, (yesterday) we wandered amoung the old cemetery in the western part of town. I find cemeteries rather bizzare. No matter what country I explore. I become pretty morbid and try to find the oldest and the youngest person (memorial or tomb) there. I hate to admit, I saw 2 months. ¡Que horrible! In Xela, in the ´old cemetery´ the graves have been built above ground, not unlike the cemetaries in New Orleans. It is as though the massive tombs are a way for the wealthy to immortalize themselves even in death. The cemetery has broken statues, unkept graves, and built in rows and rows so it looks as though it is a ghost town (pueblo fantasma if you will). A mix of the continual fight against being forgotten. I am fasinated. I thought about all the people who buried loved ones. Who spent time in the cemetery, not as a tourist, but as a widow, a mourning mother, or missing a friend. There was an Italian family here, some German plots there, and a sprinkling of French. Even the live flowers seem to clash with the dried flowers...
This afternoon I walked with mi maestra around Central Park. Downtown Xela is a mix of Spanish stucco and believe it or not, Italian arcitecture. (of course, not all of the buildings have that much character throughout town. I am reminded of that the farther away from Parque Centrale I walk). In the early 1900s, Manuel Estrada Cabrera, was the president and he originated from Xela. He was fascinated with the arts and culture of Europe and tried to transfrom Guatemala. He intivited artisans from all over to design buildings, paint, and sculpt during this era. The municipal building and the theater in town are in the Greco-Roman style. Some of the houses built then take up entire blocks of the city. They have all been turned into government offices, cultural centers, and banks.
I loved it. Futhermore, I got to teach mi maestra about our history. There was actually an exhibit on Lincoln in the municipal building, so we chatted about the civil war. Then she asked about the rest of American history, and I attempted to tell her about Jamestown, the Revolutionary War, and whatever else I could come up with. Attempting to remember my own country´s history in English, translating it into Spanish, and then remembering that English does not translate directly word for word into Spanish was rather...difficult. It could not have been more fun. As it is, I think she understood my attempt at the preterite and imperfect tenses and a mumble of the vocabulary I attempted to use.
I love this. I am not good at Spanish. I look forward to a day when I am. But I am enjoying the process to get there. In a place where the past and the present clash pretty beautifully. A place that is allowing me to learn a little more about me each day.