December 2006: We don't always drink...
Lest you think that I'm turning into a raging alcoholic (I'm not even close to drinking as much as what I did when I worked at that restaurant in the Alps, by the way, so no worries), there are some quieter moments at the Iguana too. Or at least, one's that don't involve as much booze.
Every year the Iguana organizes a Christmas party for the kids in the pueblo up the hill (though there is no drinking at the party, it is booze-related: all those ridiculous looking dots of paint you've seen on all those drunk faces? Q1 from each flavoured vodka shot on Saturday nights helps fund the Christmas party and other projects in the village).
Look at that face: how could you not want to throw her a party?
So one sunny afternoon the Iguana staff piled into the back of one of the two village pickup trucks that ply the one road in town that goes from the public docks up the hill to town, and back again. We brought with us apples and oranges and candies and empty coffee cans and rope and some old potato sacks, and before we knew it the village square was full of three-legged races and sack races and ball tosses and bobbing for apples and all the old-school fair games you ever forgot about.
We had simple prizes like pencils and erasers and whistles and other noisy things. The worst part of the day was at the end, when we tried to give away what was left of the prizes. The giver-outers just narrowly missed being taken down by mobs of kids.
Later we had a nice walk home...
And, okay, I admit it, we did have a beer after. But it was a quiet one. Look at how pensive we are:
I'd just like to add here that Romi's so hot that Airek would still have her, given the chance, despite her hairy armpits. Now that's saying something.
Nanook: the only man for me. (Only because apparently Prince fucking Charming doesn't stay in youth hostels.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A couple days before the Christmas rush, we even managed to sit down and break bread with the entire hotel staff—gringos and Guatemaltecos together (doesn't happen often. Then again, just us gringos sitting down at a table to eat dinner together doesn't really ever happen, either). The chicas came in extra early that morning and busted their asses making mounds of tamales, which we shared for lunch. Another Iguana tradition.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In December we also had a couple of rebreather divers come down and use our place as a base for some exploratory dives of the lake. They use closed-circuit scuba so they don't make bubbles when they breathe under water, and they've got some specialized gas-blending equipment built into their scuba units so they can stay under water longer and go significantly deeper (in the neighbourhood of 100m) than what you can with open-circuit scuba, or at least, not without a lot of spare tanks hanging off you. They were keen to give us a go but I honestly didn't have any time off the whole month so in the end I never got in the water with them. To be honest I'm not sure how keen I am. The no bubbles thing is cool, but the computers and technical gadgetry it involves is a bit scary, no matter how fail-safe it is and how many safety redundancies are built in.
Bill and Keith weren't just here for diving—they also appreciate a good time. Bill's an ex-Navy Seal, though. I get the feeling that an Iguana good time is pretty tame in his experience (I mean, look how blasé he looks...). This man has lived, travelled and dived all over the world, and has probably seen more than I can ever hope to dream (though I'll pass on the killing bit). He also has more diving qualifications than I even knew existed and manages a massive dive centre in Virginia (www.vascuba.com). If it weren't so impossible for me to work in the States I might have tried to curry a little more favour... Instead I left it to the dirty blonde with the Blue Steel looks.
(I'd just like to point out, by the way, that that pink fluffy thing on top of the fridge belongs to Airek. It's his boa.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Despite how busy I've been this month, I've made some time to get in the water with some of the staff. Took Jimmy and Airek on their first dive a couple weeks ago, and my project this week is to get Jimmy through his Open Water in our joint spare time in between guiding fun dives, filling tanks, restocking the bar, checking people in, etc. It really is worth finding the time, though—I love teaching friends to dive!
Oh, good news: I've finally got a colleague! After two false alarms, I think I've finally managed to land another diver—though he's not here yet so who knows. Says he's arriving on Friday. He's an instructor so he can take over for me when I leave in a couple months. Or possible sooner, depending on how my latest job application pans out. Can't say what it is, though, cause I might jinx it.
Every year the Iguana organizes a Christmas party for the kids in the pueblo up the hill (though there is no drinking at the party, it is booze-related: all those ridiculous looking dots of paint you've seen on all those drunk faces? Q1 from each flavoured vodka shot on Saturday nights helps fund the Christmas party and other projects in the village).
Look at that face: how could you not want to throw her a party?
So one sunny afternoon the Iguana staff piled into the back of one of the two village pickup trucks that ply the one road in town that goes from the public docks up the hill to town, and back again. We brought with us apples and oranges and candies and empty coffee cans and rope and some old potato sacks, and before we knew it the village square was full of three-legged races and sack races and ball tosses and bobbing for apples and all the old-school fair games you ever forgot about.
We had simple prizes like pencils and erasers and whistles and other noisy things. The worst part of the day was at the end, when we tried to give away what was left of the prizes. The giver-outers just narrowly missed being taken down by mobs of kids.
Later we had a nice walk home...
And, okay, I admit it, we did have a beer after. But it was a quiet one. Look at how pensive we are:
I'd just like to add here that Romi's so hot that Airek would still have her, given the chance, despite her hairy armpits. Now that's saying something.Nanook: the only man for me. (Only because apparently Prince fucking Charming doesn't stay in youth hostels.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A couple days before the Christmas rush, we even managed to sit down and break bread with the entire hotel staff—gringos and Guatemaltecos together (doesn't happen often. Then again, just us gringos sitting down at a table to eat dinner together doesn't really ever happen, either). The chicas came in extra early that morning and busted their asses making mounds of tamales, which we shared for lunch. Another Iguana tradition.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In December we also had a couple of rebreather divers come down and use our place as a base for some exploratory dives of the lake. They use closed-circuit scuba so they don't make bubbles when they breathe under water, and they've got some specialized gas-blending equipment built into their scuba units so they can stay under water longer and go significantly deeper (in the neighbourhood of 100m) than what you can with open-circuit scuba, or at least, not without a lot of spare tanks hanging off you. They were keen to give us a go but I honestly didn't have any time off the whole month so in the end I never got in the water with them. To be honest I'm not sure how keen I am. The no bubbles thing is cool, but the computers and technical gadgetry it involves is a bit scary, no matter how fail-safe it is and how many safety redundancies are built in.
Bill and Keith weren't just here for diving—they also appreciate a good time. Bill's an ex-Navy Seal, though. I get the feeling that an Iguana good time is pretty tame in his experience (I mean, look how blasé he looks...). This man has lived, travelled and dived all over the world, and has probably seen more than I can ever hope to dream (though I'll pass on the killing bit). He also has more diving qualifications than I even knew existed and manages a massive dive centre in Virginia (www.vascuba.com). If it weren't so impossible for me to work in the States I might have tried to curry a little more favour... Instead I left it to the dirty blonde with the Blue Steel looks.
(I'd just like to point out, by the way, that that pink fluffy thing on top of the fridge belongs to Airek. It's his boa.)* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Despite how busy I've been this month, I've made some time to get in the water with some of the staff. Took Jimmy and Airek on their first dive a couple weeks ago, and my project this week is to get Jimmy through his Open Water in our joint spare time in between guiding fun dives, filling tanks, restocking the bar, checking people in, etc. It really is worth finding the time, though—I love teaching friends to dive!
Oh, good news: I've finally got a colleague! After two false alarms, I think I've finally managed to land another diver—though he's not here yet so who knows. Says he's arriving on Friday. He's an instructor so he can take over for me when I leave in a couple months. Or possible sooner, depending on how my latest job application pans out. Can't say what it is, though, cause I might jinx it.
posted by Unknown at
3:00 p.m.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home