Grumblings from San Antonio Palópo

Standing at the kitchen sink this morning washing the sheets off of my bed, I was feeling just a tad put out, wishing that I had a washing machine and cursing the fact that my hot water heater has been on the fritz for ever and my clothes (and sheets) just don't come really clean in cold water.

Oh, did I forget to mention in previous blogs that I've been boiling water to take sponge baths and wash my hair in the sink for four - count 'em, four months now. I refuse to take icy showers when I have to shave, wash my hair and condition it too. It's a female thing. Randy does it but I won't. I prefer to wash all my parts in warm water even if it is in front of the kitchen sink. Yes, the plumber and electrician have been on the roof to look at the water heater along with the landlord and the caretaker and a part has been ordered from Guatemala City. It should be here any day now, but we were told this a few months ago, so I'm done holding my breath.

When I finished wringing out the sheets and waited until the pain in both wrists had subsided (wringing sheets is hard work), it was time to move on to my undies and socks. My mood didn't improve. As I was scrubbing it occurred to me that I need new unmentionables. All the pretty ones that I brought over from England are just about duster material and the ones from Mexico are past their prime too, but nylon - so pretty useless as dusters. I still don't know where to buy stuff like that or sheets or towels in Panajachel. Maybe they don't wear knickers or socks? Come to think of it, I've never seen a woman here wearing socks other than the tourists. And judging by what hangs on Mayan clotheslines, or lies on the tin roofs to dry; they might not use towels or sheets either - at least not the kind I'm used to. Hmm.

Next on the list to wash were the tee-shirts. Well, that was wholly depressing. I don't have one top that doesn't have at least a few paint splotches on it. Some are adorned with many colours - and none in an artistic fashion. Then of course there are the bleach stains that I've tried to make look as though I created a new tie-dyed look. Pathetic really. Back in the day, before I started gallivanting around the globe, I had a wardrobe. I mean lots of really nice expensive clothes and Egyptian cotton sheets with a thread count that was sky rocketing and matching lace bras and panties and I miss them! And do not get me started on the fact that I haven't had a haircut in two years - hell I'd do it myself but I don't have a decent pair of scissors.

Then, I started getting on my own nerves. I stopped rubbing paint spots and looked up. Sunlight was just creeping over the top of the mountain and bathing the back patio in golden warmth. It must have been 8:35am because it happens like clockwork every day. From the kitchen French doors I could see a couple of boats already on their way to market in San Lucas. The wind was up and whitecaps dotted the entire southern end of Lake Atitlan. I could see two of the three volcanoes in the distance. Just looking at that scene was enough to remind me.

I chose my life. I made choices all along the way of this amazing journey. My clothes have paint all over them because making art is how I spend my days. Truth be told, I don't need a lot of clothes. I don't have to dress for the office anymore. I get up every day to warmth and sunshine and decide whether to make a new bowl or try something different. I no longer work for The Man! I may not have much money and yes, sometimes it gets to me but I eat better than I ever have because I cook everything myself fresh from the market and I pick fruit off the trees in the garden. The last time I ate fast food was in the US. I am healthier too because I don't have money to indulge all my vices!  Soon we will be moving to Panajachel where we will have a TV again. Now that's a luxury!

So what on earth was I griping about? I have no idea. Oh, and later on today the electrician came to the house with the element for the water heater! I had a twenty minute shower this evening that was super hot. Shaved my legs and all.

Oh, and in reference to the title of this blog post - to date I have felt five earthquakes so far here. Each one happened while I was sitting at the computer. It's quite scary because you can imagine the house crumbling down the mountain and getting swallowed up by the Mother Lake. None of them lasted long but they were, indeed earthquakes. Yikes!!!