Whitehouses take on Latin America

13 February 2010

Whitehouses take on Latin America

Saturday morning the Whitehouse family piled into the car and headed for Newark Airport. This would be the first time the whole family had been on a big vacation together in quite a few years. My mom had successfully planned a vacation for all of us to celebrate her 60th birthday. We arrived at the airport and I was surprised to find it even more crowded than it had been during Christmas. Between this being Presidents Week, a popular vacation time for public schools, and the recent travel cancellations due to snowy conditions, the travelers were out in full force. Luckily there were no confrontations or quarrels while waiting to check-in, clearly people were less on edge than at Christmas. After we all made it through security, we stopped by the L’Occitane store here my dad is a favorite customer, he stops there before all of his trips to China. We all got hugs from the woman who manages the store as well as free samples to take with us. Hungry for some breakfast, I said, “To hell with a diet rich in local produce, root vegetables and whole grains…give me some Mickey D’s!” I indulged the craving by ordering an Egg McMuffin, hash brown, and even a latte from McCafe which my dad promised would be “wonderful and delicious!” and made in a very sophisticated espresso machine. I have to admit, the McDonalds breakfast was quite a treat.

On the airplane, I further indulged by shelling out the $6 to Continental Airlines so that I could watch DirectTV on the way to Guatemala. I haven’t sat down and really just flipped through channels and watched TV in probably over a year. I enjoyed the Beverly Hills 90210 re-runs on the SoapNet, but at the same time, I reaffirmed to myself that there really isn’t anything good on TV anymore. With the help of mindless television to kill time, the five hour flight to Guatemala flew by. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to see who was going to win the Food Network cake baking contest show before we were landing. It is so nice to arrive in a laidback developing country where the immigration and customs are quick and easy. At last, we walked out of the airport and onto Guatemalan soil, into the sunshine and 70 degree weather. I felt a whole universe away from the snow and ice of the Northeast.

While we wandered around the outside of the airport trying to find Dollar Rental Car, about half a dozen Guatemalan’s in traditional dress walked up to where we were standing. My dad said, “Wow! Look at the little Mayan people! I don’t know what to do, I am a little intimidated!” The women were dressed in multicolored woven skirts and tops. They had babies on their backs in slings. The men also wore bright colored clothing with rancher-style hats and cowboy boots. I’m not sure if they were, in fact, of Mayan heritage, but they certainly were a small people. Their wrinkly dark-skinned faces were fascinating. I regretted that my camera was not at the ready. We were also greeted by a legless man pushing himself around on a skateboard; this seems to be a staple in all developing countries. It always makes me feel so damn guilty to see these people, yet I never give them money either. It just seems like exploitation of a disability, something about that doesn’t feel right to me.

Finally, an excited man came running up to us, holding a Dollar rental car sign. He was here to take us to get our car; the five of us piled into his small sedan. Dollar Rental car was located in a tiny little cinderblock building at a busy intersection. Thankfully, my brother, Gordon, is fluent in Spanish from living in the Dominican Republic for a year. He did all of the talking help us secure a rental car. The Guatemalans do not work with the same speed and efficiency that you find in the US or Asia. We waited a good hour to get our car. Once they finally brought it up, there was still a long process of checking every last square inch of the car exterior and interior for damage and documentation.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting in the drab cinderblock waiting room, we finally got into the car, with Gordon as our chauffer, and found our way to the road that led to Antigua, where we would spend the week. The highway to Antigua took us past every American fast-food chain one could imagine including but not limited to: Burger King, McDonalds, Dominos, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut and even Little Cesar’s. We were passed by dozens upon dozens of school buses that were decked out in colorful paint and chrome and obviously used as public transportation in Guatemala. As we continued on the 40km drive to Antigua, we passed everything from huge car dealers, to one room shanties, mongrel dogs, women with baskets on their heads, and cows chained to doorways.

The terrain was very similar to Southern California or Baja Mexico: mountainous, dusty and dry, sparse vegetation. We traversed a few mountains until we finally ended up in the valley where Antigua is located. This town has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage site for its beautiful old colonial architecture. The city would be beautiful enough with just its historic buildings, but looming over Antigua are three active volcanoes which add to the allure. After stopping to ask for directions a few times, we finally found our hotel called Soleil La Antigua. It was really more of a resort than just a hotel; it had two pools, tennis courts, and even a couple of resident parrots. There was a bit of drama over actually finding our booking when we attempted to check in. There was no reservation listed under “Whitehouse” or “Carson” (my mom’s maiden name) and my mom had, for some reason, not successfully printed out a confirmation number. Some clever hotel employee found the reservation listed under the name of “William Garson.” It ceases to amaze me how people can screw up even the easiest of last names. I can not tell you how many times have I been called Katie Whiteside, Kathy Whitehead, Dr. Whitestone, Dr. Whitehorse, Lighthouse, Whitehill, Whorehouse (OK, that was a joke), and most recently, Whitenhouse. In any case, we were not homeless in Guatemala and we settled into our rooms.

With the sun already getting low in the sky, the family set out to explore a bit of the city and get an early dinner. We were all beyond famished as our last meal was a rubbery egg biscuit on the airplane. The evening was growing slightly chilly as the sun was leaving, but with a light jacket on, one was comfortable. We walked the one mile from our resort to the center of the city. The streets along the way were lined with brightly painted stucco buildings with tiled roofs; peeking over the stucco walls, were purple and red bougainvillea. We found our way to the central square in town which was bustling with locals and tourists alike. I stood on the corner with my mom as we waited for my dad and brothers to catch up. A white man approached us and asked if we were lost and needed directions. He was a short and round man, middle-aged, wearing an Aruba t-shirt tucked into his swim trunks, with a caricature of a face out of a Dilbert cartoon. He was a Canadian living in Washington DC and spending a month in Antigua studying Spanish. The town of Antigua is known for its many Spanish language immersion schools. The Canadian not only recommended a restaurant for us to have some decent Guatemalan food, but he actually walked us there himself.

We ate a delicious meal at the recommended restaurant, called La Fonda de la Calle Real. We sampled some of the typical local foods. I had the plato typico which had black refried beans, farmer’s cheese, plantains, chille relleno, and something called a pupusa. A pupusa is a hand-made thick corn tortilla with a few different kind of fillings inside. I tried a pupusa with pork rinds inside. It was awesome! We also had a few rounds of the local brew, a beer called Gallo with a rooster logo. During dinner, the Canadian man popped his head into the restaurant to make sure that we were enjoying ourselves before he went off to the opening of another restaurant. He was invited to come to the opening to write a review which he would then submit to an English language newspaper in Japan as well as potentially write it up in French for a paper there he contributes too.

After we finally had our fill of Guatemalan food and beer, we headed back to the streets. It was Saturday night so the streets were alive with loads of people. There were parents heading home with sleeping children in their arms, tourists walking around with travel guides in one hand and ice cream cones in the other, and couples headed out to the clubs. Back at the central square, there was a lot of action including some live street music. Across from the square, we spotted Café Barista which looked like a good place to have a dessert and a coffee. Dad and Gordon had lattes fuerte and we got a piece of cheesecake and some dessert with red berries to share. The cheesecake really hit the spot as I had been on the prowl for some good cheesecake recently. This one was not quite as rich as those I have tried at home, and it had a sugary sweet top, like the top of flan. We also took advantage of free wifi at the café, Dad, Gordon, William and I all sat there on our iPhones, getting connected back with the real world. Believe it or not, we all decided we were exhausted at around 8:30 (with the time being 9:30 on our bodies) and started walking back to the hotel. Even party animal Gordon was ready for bed. With my perpetual state of exhaustion, I was happy to actually get a decent night sleep for once! Wouldn’t be vacation if I couldn’t catch up on sleep!