On my first night:

As we eat, I look over at Doña Clara at 88 years old as she calmly eats. As her daughter teaches me K’iche words, she erupts in laughter, her body doesn’t move but her mouth expels these giant laughs. She eats humbly, contentedly, next to the fire as the cat begs for food. The cat is a boy, and he is beautiful. White with these exposed patches of gray and black tabby, as if those patches are exposed brick. He looks elegant, serene.

I’m in a house with three women and a male cat. There must be a God.

I go upstairs, I am still putting things away.

Rosario comes up again. Señiiiiiiita Aqui está Clara. And I open the door as Rosario hands me her flip phone. “Hola Clara!” “Mucho gusto, muy amable, todo perfecto, todo lindo, Estoy muy alegre para estar aqui en su casa!” Cualquier cooooosa Natalia, Con confiaaaanza” She sounds precious and wonderful and I can’t wait to meet her!

During dinner, I tell my host mom I need to find a language Mayan teacher. She assumes the role, taking me on a tour of the room with her native tongue. “Este silla she points “Tem!” I repeat “Tem.” ‘Tortillas’ she points “‘wa‘” ‘Tomates, pish” She repeats “Este es el hablado de nosoootros.” She doesn’t say “This is Kiche.” She says “This is the talk of me and my mom.” It’s truly her own, her mother tongue.

After an hour of Mayan language, I scoot my bed over and go to sleep. I’ve got Robert Galbraith’s The Silkworm to keep me company, no internet or connection to the outside world.

I lay on the mattress and am grateful for every inch. It’s firm, and new. And my thighs, eaten up entirely by the fleas, are finally able to rest, untouched. I enjoy the skin freedom. I use my white noise app because music plays loud from the street and into my room.

I wake to my alarm at 7:17am, proud I didn’t sleep in. And I brush my teeth and hear Doña Rosario call about desayuno.

sounds of construction and the radio, a woman’s voice crooning underlaid by brass instruments.

I find my yoga mat and make a playlist: YoGuaté. I do 20 or so minutes.

My apartment is tiled and empty except for what pooped out of my suitcase and what my host mom pre-placed. .

I was so energized.

And that was my first 24 hours in site, with my new host family.

I had to remind myself that this wasn’t for practice anymore, I was in site and I was playing for keeps.

Modesty, introductions, long conversations, trying and trying and trying with Spanish. It all mattered.

That night my site mate Anthony invited me to dinner. Jose, Anthony and I went to Los Olivos. I noticed that none of us ordered beverages, just tacos. Jose just ordered a hot chocolate.

My new site mates, my new life without wifi.

I have an apartment to arrange, kitchen supplies to buy, a family to get to know and a job to start. Here Goes Hoping, Guatemala!