Today marked some very important firsts. It was the first time I ate sushi in Guatemala, the first time I visited one of Antigua's hostels, and the first time I got hit on by someone young enough to be my son.
The evening started when Aki and Natsko (who both are staying at the same youth hostel) invited a bunch of folks over for a sushi-making party. Um, yes, please! I don't know if there's anything I love more on this earth than sushi (okay, okay, fine, world peace and NKOTB, but sushi would probably be a close third), so I was quite excited to attend. They were so nice and even bought a bunch of avocados, carrots, cucumbers and peppers for vegan sushi.
As soon as everyone arrived, we all became ravenous sushi-making machines. My rolls looked more like burritos as I never quite got the hang of tightly rolling them, but they were still quite delicious!
After we were nearly in a food coma, we cleaned up and decided to head out to the bars.
Wait, let me back up.
At the sushi party, we met three guys who were also staying at the hostel. None of them spoke much English, and from what I gathered in Spanish, they were there doing internships in Antigua as they were studying tourism at school and Antigua is a really big tourist town. They spoke quickly and used a lot of slang (and their accents seemed to be different as they were from the southern part of Guatemala), but they were nice and seemed to laugh a lot. So when they asked if they could join us (Miranda, Annie, Linda and me) at the bar, we obliged.
We bar-hopped and went to the usual suspects: Rum Bar, Cafe No Se and Monoloco. During our stop to Cafe No Se, one of the interns started chatting me up. Orlando (as I mistakenly called him all night when his real name was Rolando) started asking questions like where I was from, how old I was, what I did for a living, etc. I asked him the same questions and busted his chops a little bit when he told me he was 23.
"I don't believe you," I said in Spanish.
"It's true," was his reply.
We went back and forth a little bit more before I finally decided to believe him. After all, there was really no point in arguing with a random stranger over something that had no bearing on our mutual affinity for beer.
After a brief conversation, he asked me if I had a boyfriend. As I previously learned, if you're not currently in the market for a new boyfriend, it's best to say "yes," whether you have one or not. Otherwise the next question usually involves getting asked out on a date. But, if you say yes, you can generally just move on with friendly conversation.
To my surprise, he pressed on.
"Where does your boyfriend live? The United States?"
"Yes," I replied.
He mulled it over for a moment, and then said, "You know, you could have two boyfriends. One here and one back home."
I laughed out loud and told him I appreciated the offer, but that's way too many.
He quietly laughed to himself and then dropped it.
After that, we returned to regular conversation. And by regular conversation, I mean, him repeatedly asking me if I was drunk yet. We also ate popcorn and took turns teaching each other the Spanish/English word for it (it's poporopo in case anyone is curious). By the way, poporopo might be my new favorite Spanish word, replacing sacapuntas (pencil sharpener).
As we were on our way to Monoloco, Annie all of a sudden turned to me and said, "Do you know we're hanging out with a bunch of high school students?" "Uh, what?" "Yeah, they're in high school. They're here doing their high school internships."
When Orlando/Rolando started talking to me again, he asked me if I wanted to go out dancing with him. I thanked him for the offer, but politely declined.
I then said, "How old are you really, anyway?"
"23," he insisted.
"Okay, show me your ID then. Prove it."
Without missing a beat, he pulled out a picture ID.
Upon looking at it, I cracked up for two reasons: 1. because it didn't have his birthday on it (which I quickly pointed out) and 2. because it said "colegio" on it, and it was from 2010. Colegio looks/sounds a lot like college, but in Guatemala it means private high school.
So basically he showed me his current high school ID to prove that he was 23.
When we finally headed to Monoloco, the interns couldn't even get in as they were underage. And I'm not talking underage as in under 21. I mean underage as in under 18.
So Orlando/Rolando could have been my child. Too bad he didn't ask if I had a son back in the United States, and if I wanted to add one of those to my collection.
The before:
Natsko demonstrating how to make sushi:
Possessed or just really excited to be making sushi? Perhaps a bit of both.
My first attempt at making sushi.
Yum!
More yum!
The interns.
My second attempt. For those of you who are wondering, that's carrots, peppers, guacamole and cucumbers. Vegan sushi rules!
Sushi-making party group shot.
Post sushi-making/pre-food coma.
To view more pictures of my trip, go check out my album on facebook.
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