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Learning Spanish in Xela,
Guatemala by Alex
Learning
Spanish in Guatemala is popular and some places are well-known for it.
But if you want to remain fairly off-the-trail, Xela is the place to
go.
A
large chunk of Guatemala’s tourism revenue comes from teaching
Spanish to travellers. It’s not like it’s the only Spanish-speaking
country on the continent, but a number of factors make it a number one
choice.
 To start with, the Gutemaltekas speak
slowly and clearly. Anyone who has been to Cuba will appreciate the
importance of this – you aren’t going to learn Spanish if you
don’t understand a single word muttered through lazy lips at
machine-gun speed, half of the letters chewed into a uniform blob on
their way out. Secondly, Guatemala is on the way: for anyone (and
especially North Americans) going down the continent this is a good time to
learn a few phrases – at the beginning of the trail. Third, the
Guatemalan culture is heavily indigenous, so it makes it an interesting
place to stop for a week and get to know it. And last, but not least,
Guatemala is much cheaper than most of Latin America, making it a
competitive proposition.
As a
result, you get quite a motley crowd of students. Maybe not so much
top-end travellers, but definitely a lot of backpackers eager to stock up
on “Donde esta…?” and “Cuanto cuesta…?” for
the long journey ahead, as well as a lot of the more adventurous North
American High who might not be up for roaming around the continent, but
at least they will get out of the US / Canada into a native culture to
spend a month somewhere different while learning the language. You
normally pay for a week’s course, quite a few hours a day one-to-one
with a teacher, although that can modified to your needs.
Once
in Guatemala, you will usually be directed to one of the two places.
 Lake Atitlan is
a very scenic mountanous landscape with volcanoes and postcard
indigigenous people. A string of villages along the bank of the lake lets
you adjust the level of spirituality according to your habitual marijuana
dosage. This place is the Guatemalan equivalent of a stereotypical
backpacker beach village. Antigua, on the other hand, is somewhat of
Guatemalan Cuzco (but, in my opinion, not as nice), an area with Irish
bars and cosmopolitan restaurants cordoned off from the rest of Guatemala
for the safety of the tourists and, in places, paved to accommodate
travellers’ high heels.
Everyone
says they visit Antigua because it has the volcanoes around it. I am
sorry but I don’t buy it. People go to Antigua because everyone else
goes there. Central America has volcanoes all over the place. By the way –
very important – there is a village in Guatemala where turtles lay
eggs, I read it in the Lonely Planet.
Most
people are happy with those two in terms of Spanish classes. And then
there are grumpy buggers like me who start kicking when they are herded
to developed locations. But I didn’t know of any other options, and
I didn’t want to end up in some total tomb somewhere. Luckily, I was
given a tip, which I am now spreading with this article.
Personally,
I decided to avoid Antigua in the very beginning, lest I bump into the
Lord of the Underworld. But Lake Atitlan was highly
recommended. It was pretty and all but after a couple of days up in smoke
with Bob Marley (again…) me and Luke, the guy I met there, began
planning our escape from the Lonely Planet trail. The furthest we could
think of at the time was El Salvador but since it was a bit of a mystery
Luke decided to brush up on his Spanish. His Atitlan allowance was now
spent, though, so it would have to be Antigua.
No way
in hell. I told Luke I’d see him there in a few days, in brief
transit and he’d better be finished by then.
After
a few-day trip through the mountains I caught the chicken bus to
Guatemala City, which was going through Antigua. Chicken buses. Oh
yeah. Don’t be fooled - the guy who is driving is not the one
in control of the vehicle. It is the other guy - the primate who jumps
around the roof at full speed, shouts "Guatemala, Guatemala ciudad,
Guatemala, GuateGuateGuateee!!!!!!!!" like there’s an imminent
danger of GuateGuate, hangs out of the door and tells the driver what to
do (a bit like an F1 team).
And
everyone else on the road: all roads are one lane each way and the
general road ethics is to speed overtake on the oncoming lane regardless
of tight mountain turns, and when something is coming your way, the bus
pushes other cars to the side to come back into the right lane, at full
speed. Whether it works out or not is largely a matter of chance.
The
guy is the original backseat driver, and he actually does backseat drive,
only he doesn’t have a seat and instead macholy hangs out of the bus
fully at 45 degrees. Which is why all vehicles in CA have "Jesus is
my guide" on the windscreen (phew, I thought he had forsaken us...)
apart from one truck I saw that simply had "I am different" all
across the front. Packed is not the word. It’s just a sea of bodies. Yet
someone always insists on getting from one end of the bus to another. A
necessary criterium to exercise that right is an oversized basket, or at
least a big stinking sack of potatoes.
Once
in Antigua I heard the terrible news: Luke failed to get signed up and
was only starting. I did want to go to El Salvador with Luke, though, and
I was beginning to think that my Spanish could do with some classes too,
so with a heavy heart I decided to stay and look for classes in the
morning.
Later
at night I was drowning my sorrows in Guinness, at the local command
& control unit of the Irish Empire. This is when God heard my pain.
He sent me a bunch of jolly Americans who were awfully nice to spill the
beans about Xela.
Next
morning, carefully avoiding to dirty anyone’s designer fashion with
my backpack, I walked to the bus station and caught a GuateGuate!!!!! to
Xela.
Quetzaltenango,
aka Xela, is the second largest city of Guatemala, I think. As soon as I
got off the locals began looking at me with curiosity, like what the hell
is he doing here? Good sign. I like Xela a lot. It’s a big city but
it had this warm sunny vibe on the streets by day, really mellow and
totally authentic. The people just went about their business, but
courteous and nice. A little too dark by night though.
It
turned out Xela is the underdog for Spanish classes in Guatemala. Staying
here is a real cultural submersion, schools are numerous and the number
of foreigners is just about perfect – not too many to invade and
enough to have a drink with if you fancy. The prices were lower than in
Antigua – 100 bucks for a week (6-7 hours a day, one-to-one) with a
very good school and about half of that with private teachers or less
established schools.
I had
been recommended a school, and I was already a day late for that week, so
I was just going to go with that one, although I got a bit freaked out by
the fact it had a school bell for lunch etc. My assigned teacher was an
easy-going and giggly young lady. The beauty of having such a private
on-to-one is that you can call the shots if you know what your language
needs. She tried to drag me through the thorns of the grammar but, with
so little time, I wanted it more conversational. She would keep trying to
get me talking on the-book-is-on-the-table kind of topics like family, my
country, my hobbies. I kept diverting it to sex, drugs and tips on
catching Cuatemalan women: since I was in school in the middle of a
backpacking trip, I did have to at least keep myself entertained. Piously
perplexed at first, she eventually surrendered and even showed a cute
curiosity for those topics. Which was much more merciful than Luke's
fate: his teacher was a feisty evangelist and she would not let the
conversation stray away from the Lord.
I
stayed in a nearby hostel Argentina, where most travelers tend to stay.
There was a bizarre neighborhood watch arrangement: at 9 o’clock a
group of 10-14 youths would come out in balaclavas and ski masks, with
baseball bats and all other kinds of close-quarter combat melee weaponry,
and…well...keep the neighborhood safe, very actively. One of the
guys in the hostel wasn’t aware of it and had to take a lengthy detour
on his way home one night when he saw them outside the hostel. Too right,
you’re not gonna think they are security, are you?
Word
of warning if you think those guys look cool: don’t take photos!
Many Guatemaltekas believe that photos steal your spirit, and you really
don’t want to be informed of this by a bunch of youths in ski-masks
and with baseball bats.
There
are a few nice mellow bars to go to for a drink at night, and salsa
nights for foreigners. While you are learning to speak you may as well learn
to walk, again not very expensive and salsa teachers are abundant. You
can’t take your guns to the bars though, unfortunately, as the signs
in the venues tell you, so people have to resort to breaking bottles over
each other’s heads.
Walking
around the tombstone shops of Xela one afternoon (there are lots of them,
business must be good…) I met Sary on the central Plaza. She is a
sweetest little thing and I wish I had met her before signing-up. She has
her own school, at lower price, complete with accommodation, breakfast
and an art gallery. Us and her friend went for some salsa and had a
fantastic night. Her site appears to be down right now, but if you do go
to Xela to learn Spanish do try to sign up with her, she’s such a
sweetie. I hope the webmaster won’t mind: www.learn2speakspanish.com
All in
all I was happy with this turn of events. Go to Atitlan if you want peace
of mind, “peace” in the pipe, tranquility, lake, mountains and
an international village. Go to Antigua if you want an international
hangout with all amenities. But if you’d rather not stop cultural
immersion and / or don’t want to get sucked into an over-developed
location just because you can’t say “Cuanto cuesta…?”,
Xela is the answer.
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Alex is the webmaster of
Valencia Travel Online - an independent resource on travelling in
Valencia, Spain
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