…I’m here all by myself! In the charming mountain village of Panajachel on spectacular Lake Atitlán. The lake is surrounded by volcanic mountains and about eight small villages. Absolutely gorgeous!

Panajachel is the main visitor center for the lake and a bit touristy for my taste, and yet I’m captivated by its romantic charm.

Some very stylish restaurants have been here for a long time. I had dinner at the Circus Club that was decorated with antique European circus memorabilia. Sounds corny, but it was warm and cozy and somehow I felt as though I had been transported to another time and place. Live music by a very talented guitar duo added to the ambiance.

In the last few months I’ve been forced to learn many new things. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I asked for it. Prior to preparing for this trip, I literally did not know how to turn on a computer nor change the oil in my car. I knew a little Spanish but now I’m totally immersed in it. Computers, E-mail, the Internet, typing, satellite technology, auto mechanics, Spanish, a new climate, a new diet, a new family… could I possibly take on one more thing? Yes!

Tonight was my first Merengue lesson here in Xela. I was up to the challenge. The fact that I was the only guy with five women made it more than tolerable. It was actually a lot of fun. I already know the Country Swing, which gave me a head start. The Merengue upper body movements are the same. I just had to learn the steps, and, as a French girl kept trying to tell me in English, “Move your butt!” I did my best to oblige.

The school has an outreach program that teaches Spanish to adults in the little farm village of Almolonga, near Xela. I joined the small group that trekked into the hills for the afternoon session. Each volunteer had several students, outdoors or in a small room with a dirt floor. The ceiling was about 5′10″, which is fine for the villagers since they are mostly under 5 foot tall. But they sure got a big kick out of me walking around with my 6′2″ head cranked all the way over to one side.

I was blown away by the enthusiasm we encountered. They were absolutely thrilled to have us there. I was inspired by their desire to improve themselves. Their native language is called “Mam”. I call it “Twenty-Seven Different Ways to Clear Your Throat”. I couldn’t come close to differentiating and pronouncing the guttural sounds they tried to teach me. Certainly Spanish and English are just as foreign to them.