Here endeth this blog

Warm greetings, dear readers, and apologies that this my final instalment is so late coming.  

Our final day in Guatemala was eventful, and the journey back to reality rather longer than expected.

It feels like months ago when I awoke to our final Guatemalan morning, but it was only a few hours.  I say 'a few' in the Guatemalan sense, as it was, perhaps, two days ago now.  As mentioned, time differences perplex me.  I can't even handle the 'spring forward, fall over' changing of the clocks here, so the whole concept of time travelling, and arriving before you've left is beyond me.  I don't really get seasons.  It's usually cold in the UK, so it is hard to tell which season it is meant to be.  Or there's an unexpected heatwave, the railway tracks melt, the public complain and we can't cope.  We can't seem to cope with snow either.  Anyway, enough about all that, back to our extremely long last day.

I was intent on going swimming at the rather swish hotel we were staying at in Guatemala City, so at 6.45am, I bounced along to Gill and Zoë's room, where they were making full use of the complimentary bathrobes and slippers.  Down we went to the outdoor pool.  It was like swimming in a warm bath and was simply perfect, as was the jacuzzi.  Post-breakfast, we checked-out and bundled into our minibus, with Manuel our guide and Saolo, our driver, who has driven us hundreds of miles around Guatemala, this fascinating country.

We drove around the city, learning about how it is all divided up into zones, looking at which zones were predominantly residential, where the big businesses were located, seeing the slum areas, the largest of which is known as 'Limonade', which Manuel informs us, means 'lemonade, like the drink', but no-one is quite sure why.

We stopped at the main square and went into one final church for a short tour.  Afterwards, we had an unfortunate incident where one of our group had a chain snatched from her neck.  In a split second, whilst we were crossing the road, in that anxious-tourist manner, when one's guard is down, some chancer ripped the chain from her neck and was gone before we had even realised what had happened.  This was extremely unfortunate as Manuel was in the process of saying how important it is to stay together as a group.  The chain had great sentimental value and was irreplaceable.  But, to be fair, this incident could have happened in Plumstead, Old Street, just about anywhere in the world.  So if you are thinking of travelling to Guatemala, don't let this put you off.  Much worse things happen, and really, the only thing which matters, is life.  I've been mugged in the past, in Ghana, in 2002, which freaked me out, especially as they got my passport; but I got a shiny new one within a week or so, with the place of issue listed as 'British High Commission Accra', which was quite quirky.  The last time I stowed a bag above my head in a bus, I never saw it again - that was in Mombasa - so I don't store things there any more.  

We went to the ministry of something-or-other, where we obtained a crime number so that our group member can make an insurance claim.  We couldn't do more as there is no way the chain would be found.

I was extremely hungry and I planned to ask Manuel, with Gill's help, in my best Spanish, when we were going to stop and eat.  I asked this, but unfortunately I asked when we were going to stop and smoke, rather than stop and eat, as the verbs sound quite similar.  Manuel said that my pronunciation was great, even if what I had said wasn't what I intended.  Story of my life.

We lunched in a shopping mall, which could quite easily have been Bluewater.  All the multinationals were there - every conceivable sports brand, fast food chains.  I sat munching a chicken salad from Pollo Campero, Guatemala's fast food chicken shop which can be found across the country, reflecting on the surreal nature of the shopping centre experience - the gap between rich and poor is immense here, as it is everywhere else, like London.  And this gap only ever seems to get bigger.  

It was sad saying goodbye to Manuel. He had looked after us throughout our stay, ferried us around to restaurants, churches, ruins, hotels, churches, ruins, toilets, churches, ruins, cafes, churches, ruins, gardens, churches, ruins, coffee plantations, churches, ruins, ATMs, churches and ruins.  Did I mention the churches and ruins? He is clearly proud to be Guatemalan and was pleased to show us his country.  He was very embarrassed by the robbery, even more so because it happened a few feet away from him.

So we said goodbye and bundled into the airport, changing into our trip polo shirts, which we dutifully wore all the way home.  We flew to El Salvador (I think I've met her), for reasons unbeknown to man or woman for that matter.  Once there, I was intent on finding a glass bottle of Coca Cola (see previous posts on this important topic), as it would have 'El Salvador' written on the rim.  Pip was up for this challenge, so off went in search of this priceless artefact.  Fact: there is one place at this airport where they sell Coke in glass bottles.  A bar.  A bar, which was just about to close.  But I could see the glass bottle in the fridge! We pretty much begged the man for even just the lid, not even the liquid, I mean, let's face it, when am I going to be in El Salvador again? Probably on the 12th, 12th of Never.  This was my only chance.  As I stood there looking totally pathetic, the man relented, fetched an opener, charged me $2, gave me the lid and poured the Coke into a plastic cup, which Pip and I shared in celebration! Mission accomplished.  

Meanwhile, back at Gate 9, the troops were mustering.  The flight to Madrid was scheduled for 1950.  We boarded, all was well.  Well, until we started moving around the runway, then the pilot announced that there was something wrong with the plane.  We were frustrated, but subconsciously all thought that it was better for there to be a problem now, than in the mid-Atlantic.  So the pilot tried to take off, but again, decided there was a problem, so back we went to the parking area.

Time was ticking, and the chances of us missing the connection from Madrid seemed to be increasing.

The pilot announced that he was going to refuel.  I couldn't help wondering why he hadn't done that in the first place! If I don't put fuel in my car, she doesn't go anywhere! Surely it's the same principle with a rather large aeroplane? We all had to undo our seat-belts whilst they added the fuel - why was that? I don't ask my passengers to do this when I go to the petrol station.  Strange.

We had been there for almost 2 hours.  I spoke to a Spanish nun who was also on the flight.  I'm always reassured when there is a nun around.  As Sally remarked, every flight should have one.  Unfortunately this particular nun and I didn't have much language in common.  I understood that she had travelled from Honduras, and was bound for Madrid, but apart from that, I was nun the wiser.

The two hour mark passed, we had missed the connection in Madrid.  Pip suggested I perform a comedy gig.  After all, this audience was locked inside a plane on the tarmac at San Salvador - they weren't going anywhere - talk about a captive audience! Just as I was working out the logistics of running a comedy improvisation workshop for these lucky passengers, the pilot announced that everything was sorted and that we were off to Madrid!

Ten hours later, we touched down in Madrid, and had been booked onto the next flight, which was in 5 hours.  Pip and I intrepidly jumped on a Madrid-bound aeroporto bus and headed for the city, taking advantage of the free WiFi on the bus to tweet our way into town.  Forty minutes later, we were sipping cerveza near the main square.  And the barman even found me a Coke lid - 'la tapa, por favore?'

A short hop from Madrid, and we touched down at Heathrow.  It was reassuringly cold.  We said our farewells and went our separate ways.  After 25 hours variously in the air, in transit lounges, and bribing barmen for Coke lids (well, maybe the latter was just me), we were exhausted, and most probably still are.

What an experience we have had.  I can't recommend a trip to Our Cabana highly enough.  Please GO GO GO there as soon as you can.  It is a beautiful place, in a lovely setting, it's warm and friendly, you become part of a very special community of people united by one set of values.  Look at their website, book yourself in for one of the sessions, or do what we did and organise a pick n mix programme, incorporating whatever you want.  It really is a wonderful chance to go and experience somewhere which epitomises Guiding.  If you're a member of Girlguiding, these World Centres are your home, so go and stay! If you're not a member of Girlguiding, why not become one? We always need more volunteers.  If you live anywhere near Chislehurst, get in touch as I could do with some more Guide Leaders! Guiding offers life-changing opportunities for girls and young women; come and be part of it; come and discover, grow, challenge yourself and be challenged.  Reach out and grab the opportunities that come your way.  If none come, look harder, or create these opportunities for girls and young women.  Life's short, don't let it pass you by.    

And if you do go to Our Cabana, go to Guatemala for a bit afterwards.  It's very well-equipped for tourism, as this provides a huge source of income.  I highly recommend it, especially Antigua, and of course, the Rainbow Cafe, location of my first every live gig!

So what's next? 

Well I am back at work now, and am here for two weeks, working and building my poetry empire.  Then I am off to Rwanda for the Fifth World Centre pilot, a conference for the WAGGGS (World Association of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts) Stop the Violence campaign.  I will start a blog about this before I go and will tweet the link.  This will be a very different experience.  I am looking forward to meeting WAGGGS members from across Africa and the world, to find out more about what their organisations are doing to Stop the Violence, and to discuss the way forward.

Thank you for following my adventures - I hope you have enjoyed this blog.

Best wishes - Helen BB

Adios Flores, Hola Guatemala City

The best line today came from Miguel, our trusty guide on the Flores leg of the trip, who when asked if the land we were visiting was flat, replied  'Yes, once you've climbed the hill'. 

We set off for Tikal, the UNESCO World Heritage Site, early this morning.  The site was much more established than yesterday's site and was littered with rest areas, with a little Guatemalan man selling Coca Cola and benches to rest on.  There were a lot of other people there, unlike yesterday when we were the only group.

The 40 degree heat made the experience extremely strenuous, but worth it for the spectacular views of the temples from the top of the highest pyramid.  A big highlight for me today was meeting two French tourists at the top of this pyramid, who said to me, 'You are Helen, non?' - 'indeed - how do you know?' I replied, with surprise.  They said that they had been at the Rainbow Cafe on Wednesday night, when I did my routine! I have a fan base! Or, at least, 2 people who were there and remembered me.  Antigua was where our Guatemalan adventure began several days ago, hundreds of miles from Tikal. 

We saw a lot of wildlife today, including animals a bit like racoons, but native to Guatemala.  One came very close to it.  I tried to talk to it, but it only spoke Spanish.  We also saw coties wandering around and even a toucan in the trees.  We saw howler monkeys nursing their young in the trees.  They defecate on the people below to mark their territory.  Nice.

My jungle-strength insect repellent doesn't seem to have worked on the vicious mosquitoes of Flores - my little arms and ankles have been nibbled, despite long-sleeves and copious amounts of sweet-smelling jungle lotion.  But I have been taking anti-malarials on Tuesdays, just to be on the safe side, so if any of those naughty mosquitoes are malarial, I am safe.

We flew back to Guatemala City from Tikal in a larger plane than we had flown there.  This plane even had an air hostess, who kindly bought us a drink and biscuits during the flight.  What a job that must be - 45 minute flights from Guatemala City to Flores and back, presumably only when enough people want to fly.  There is something quirky about flying within a country with a tiny airline that no-one has heard of.  It was a pleasant flight, and we didn't need earplugs as previously, which was a relief.

Manuel was waiting for us at the airport.  He had had a haircut, so looked refreshed.  He said that he had missed us, but I'm not sure if this was true.  We piled into the bus and headed to downtown Guatemala City, for our final night here.  Tomorrow we are wandering around the city in the morning, then starting the long journey back to reality.  Night night everybody.     

Rather warm

I was looking back through my photos of this trip.  The first couple of nights in Mexico, joking about Moctezuma taking the tube, seem like a lifetime ago.  Our Central American adventure is coming to a close very soon.  We have one more night here at Mosquito Central, then a night in Guatemala City, then we fly home.  On Thursday, I'll be doing battle with the Northern Line once again, and starting to plough through thousands of unread work e-mails.

Let me tell you about what we got up to today.  We spent the morning at an archaeological Mayan site called Yaxha where we walked around an enormous site, consisting of a series of complexes where various Mayan things used to happen.  We walked around in sweltering heat - 40 degrees temperature and 97 degrees humidity- and Miguel told us all about the different ruins - where the Mayans used to hang out, eat, make sacrifices, perform ceremonies, check their e-mail and play football. 

The most special part of the morning was when we climbed a pyramid and renewed our Promise at the top.  It was moving.  Truly a pyramid-top moment, one which I will not forget. 

Sheila was in archaeological heaven at this site.  We also watched howler monkeys having a siesta in the trees and all sorts of exotic birds darting around. 

On the way to the site, we saw lots of pigs by the side of the road, often with little piglets.  One man appeared to be walking  his  pig.  I think perhaps here people have pet pigs like  we have pet dogs.  There were also horses with their horselets and cows with their cowlets. 

We went to a restaurant for lunch and were bemused to be presented with boiling hot vegetable soup - not quite what we were anticipating in this heat.  But it was delicious, as was the chicken which followed and, fear not dear readers, there was an option for our vegetarian friends.  We enjoyed refried beans - Pip's favourite - and an abundance of tortillas, the Central American staple. 

On arriving back, exhausted from pyramid-hopping and, in some cases, Mayan overload, we plunged into the swimming pool, which was heavenly.  Am currently blogging with a gin and tonic, besides the crocodile-infested lagoon, listening to the chirruping cicadas and all manner of other night life.  

This whole trip has been quite an experience. It was beautifully divided into bite-sized chunks - a minibreak in Mexico City, a six-night programme at Our Cabana, the World Centre in Mexico, then a few nights in Guatemala, before flying home on Tuesday, via San Salvador (yes indeed, the capital of El Salvador - we have heard that we are getting off the plane - just hope I'll be able to have a bottle of Coke, so that I can get the Coke lid.  I know it's geeky, but I collect these from wherever I go in the world, as they are always locally bottled, so have the name of the country written on the rim.  I hope they drink Coca Cola in El Salvador.  They don't have it in Laos.

We have spent time doing such different things, that this trip has felt like lots of different experiences, in one.  And my hope is that everyone who has been on this huge adventure will take something special back to their units, Districts, Divisions, as well as the County and wider Region.  We are already planning the reunion where everyone will be asked what they have done as a result of this trip.

So Sally and Pip are sitting opposite me, playing 'Pass the Pigs', that special game that can be played with two pigs and a notebook.  In fact, we could have played the real thing with the pigs on the roadside, though I'm not sure they would have appreciated that.

We about to meet up for dinner, then we'll be checking out with our tiny bags and heading to Tikal, the UNESCO World Heritage site we have all come to see.  Then we'll board the tiny plane and head back to Guatemala City for one more night.

So I will sign-out there, and will blog again from our final destination here tomorrow - Guatemala City.  Hope you are all doing well.  Little man with g & t approaching....

Sounds of the jungle - Mosquito Central

Sorry I had to cut the last blog short - had to jump onto a tiny plane, which turned out to  be big enough to accommodate the 14 of us, plus two unfortunate members of the public, as well as a pilot or two.  We were given ear plugs in our tiny cardboard box, which were most welcome considering the noise which emanated.

Earlier in the day, we visited a market, not a tourist market like the one at Chichicastenago, but a local market, where locals do their shopping.  It was an interesting experience, with lines and lines of women selling vegetables, many wearing their beautiful traditional cloth, all of which has slight variations.  The local population was doing its shopping here, whilst we wandered round, gazing at mutant-sized cabbages and smiling at people. 

Most of the vegetable stalls were manned (for want of a better word) by women, many of whom were breastfeeding and selling tomatoes at the same time.  There were a lot of smaller children running around.  Others had babies secured to their backs with beautiful cloth, evident only from the tiny feet sticking out of one end of the material.  Work doesn't stop here when a woman has a child; there is certainly no maternity leave - she carries on running her stall.  Needs must. 

We stopped at a Mayan archaeological site, hence the name of the previous blog entry, where there were steep steps, because the Mayans had long legs.  We learnt about how Mayans built their complexes according to the nature of the cosmos.  We saw a hole which Manuel described as 'the belly button of the earth', which was where the Mayans would offer incense and light candles etc.

That visit was a few hours ago, but seems like months ago.  Fast forward to now, and I am sitting in the reception of a stunning complex, surrounded by incomparable noises of the Guatemalan jungle.  There are chirruping cicadas, howler monkeys, the whirring of the fan above my head, and a million insect noises.  This is mosquito central, and I am coated in my new fragrance - Deet Femme - it's not exactly Clinique Happy, but it does the job.  It is past 10.30pm and the heat is astonishing.  I don't think I've been in a climate quite like this since Timbuktu 2002, when the heat was so close, you could hardly move.  But somehow, one does, on a camel, into the desert heat. 

Our tiny plane touched down; I had a stabbing pain below my left ear throughout the flight, so spent most of the time in the brace position, which made it better, although wasn't very sociable for my neighbours.  But they got over it.  The airport was tiny, and we were met by Miguel the guide, and driver Saolo, who drove us in an enormous bus, to buy water, then here to the hotel.  En route to the supermarket, we passed Pizza Hut, again, globalisation at its worse - we are in Guatemala for goodness sake!

We are staying in a series of little bungalows and the complex has two lagoons, one of which has a resident crocodile, which Miguel tells us we can watch eat breakfast tomorrow, when we  are having breakfast.  There is a swimming pool, which will be blissful to plunge into tomorrow, as long as it's definitely a swimming pool, not the lagoon with the resident crocodile.  'Lagoon'.  What a great word eh? I don't use it very often.  There aren't many lagoons in Plumstead, that's probably why.

We've been reading tweets today from our friends at Girlguiding's Trainer Conference in a place called Wyboston - hello to you if you have been there today.  Pip and I would be there, if we weren't in Guatemala.  Hope it has gone well and that you have made new friends, and kept the old.

Off to climb the pyramid tomorrow.  Night night!

Long-legged Mayans climbed steep steps

So 17 has now become 14 as we have said farewell to the Guatemala 1 group, consisting of Caroline, Margaret and Eileen, who are flying home tonight. 

The remaining intrepid 14 are currently at a tiny airport in Guatemala City, miles away from the international terminal.  We are speculating as to whether the plane will be a 5-seater, in which case, some of us may need to sit on the wing, or a 20-seater, which will accommodate all of us comfortably.

It has been a satisfying day and it's not over yet.  Rumour has it that our hotel is located in a swamp, surrounded by angry mosquitoes, scorpions, howler monkeys and crocodiles, all ready to pounce, having been told of our impending arrival.  But we are suitably equipped with industrial quantities of repellent and will not be swimming in the crocodile-infested lagoons. 

Where on earth are you going? I hear you cry, from this waiting room in Guatemala City (yes, really) - the Guatemala 2, who have managed to postpone their return to work till Thursday - are bound for Flores, the heart of the Aztec kingdom, in the north of Guatemala, quite close to the border with Belize.  Pip and I are going to make a border dash to Belize - who's in? It's only a centimetre on the map, so it can't be far. More later - we're about to board!

Lake Time

Lake Atitlan or Lago Atitlan, as it is more commonly known in these parts, is absolutely beautiful.  It is set between three volcanoes, which are called Atitlan, Toliman and San Pedro.  The space where the lake is now, used to be filled with boiling magma.  I am reassured that this no longer is the case, as a boat trip on bubbling, oozing, sweltering magma would have been quite uncomfortable.  There have been a lot of eruptions over the years, but none recently.  The last one was in 1835.  There certainly wasn't one today.  If there had been, I wouldn't be sitting on this hotel balcony sipping cafe con leche, blogging and listening to the happy sounds of Atitlan town at this precise moment. 

Volcanoes.  Don't you just love 'em? I remember learning about them at school, with Miss Cook, I think, in Year 8.  We also learnt about them in Year 9, but I spent most of the time I should have been in Year 9 geography at the orthodontist, having my front teeth gently coaxed into my mouth using all sorts of fantastic contraptions.  My front teeth used to enter the room half an hour before the rest of me.  It was like having a giant house rabbit around.  I owe my life to that orthodontist.  But enough about all that, let's get back to the volcano lessons I do remember.  We drew pretty cross-sections of them, showing all the different rock types - like the Ignatious rock (who later founded the Jesuits) and the Iraenean rock (some sort of theodicy, I believe); we made models of the volcanoes with layers of corrugated card; we recreated explosions where magma and llama flowed out - (can you tell that I'm not a geologist?) But actually seeing volcanoes in the flesh, well - the rock - is something else.  They are utterly spectacular.  If you have never seen a real volcano, I think you should.  Find out where they are, then go visit.  There is something called the Pacific Ring of Fire, created by the tectonic plates and their mates.  But don't go if they are erupting as they wreak havoc.

Manuel and his trusty boat mate took us across the lake in their boat.  We sped through the lake, at great speed, spending the day at various co-operatives, including a delightful textile co-operative which receives funding from USAID, amongst others.  We learnt all about the process of producing the threads, dying the threads, then weaving them into all sorts of objects and designs.  Many of the places which are of interest to visitors are run by co-operatives, and we also visited a local artist's co-operative.  These types of establishment benefit the whole population and are beneficial as they enable people to contribute to the community as a whole.  That's what Manuel said.  He also said that as a result of tourism, 90% of the homes in this area have their own sewerage systems, which is unheardof in the 'Global South' (which used to be called the 'Developing World'. 

I'm not sure how all the traders survive though.  We passed hundreds of stalls today, all selling remarkably similar items - woven goods, wooden goods, masks, bags, pens, jewellery, key-rings, huge tapestries, bags; some people purchased all sorts of things, which is great.  I bought a tiny beaded frog wearing a Santa hat, which I am going to give to my Dad because he collects frogs.  An old Guatemalan lady followed me around; I was teaching her to say the names of the things she was selling in English - 'ferg, buy ferg'; 'frog, it's a frog'; there were also 'pergs', otherwise know as 'pigs' and 'pingin', which was in fact, 'penguin'.  Pronounciation was awkward because she didn't have very many teeth.  She would have benefited from intensive orthodontics some years ago.

We passed a ferretaria and I wanted to go in and buy a ferret.  The others weren't so keen.  I was disappointed.  I was even more disappointed when I found out that a ferretaria sells hardware, rather than ferrets.  Saying that though, I'm not sure how I would have got it home.  Can you take a ferret as hand luggage? I'm not sure. It would probably have to go into quarantine anyway.  Ferret.  What a great word.

When we were at the weaving place, Manuel explained that weaving is what the women do, because they can go to the co-operative, collect the raw materials they need, then take them home and weave, whilst looking after their children, whilst their husbands can get drunk, because many men here are, apparently, alcoholics.  When you are a weaver, there is no annual leave.  There is no holiday pay, sick pay, or maternity pay.  It's weave, or nothing.  And the men are out drinking.  What a depressing situation Manuel described.  One which doesn't demonstrate very much gender equality.  But this is what he said, and it's not for me to criticise, but it doesn't quite seem right.  But is it cultural? Societal? The way it's always been? None of this makes it ok.  There is a very long way to go when it comes to gender equality here. 

This is a place of paradox.  There are toothless women selling beaded frogs and tiny children selling chewing gum, then there are breezy rooftop restaurants with complimentary wi fi.  What a curious world this is. 

Our final stop on the boat was in Santiago, where the locals make money by, amongst other things, weaving any name you want, onto a pen, in the colours of your choice.  This simple but highly effective souvenir was appreciated by the group, who brought many of these pens.  So if you are expecting a souvenir, expect a pen with your name on it!

Back at the hotel, I played table tennis with Zoe (sorry Andy, I can't find the two dots!) - it was a closely fought match, made more challenging because the ball was in fact, a golf ball rather than a ping-pong ball.  After this, I went for a dip in the pool, which was very refreshing in this balmy heat.

We are shortly heading back to Helena's place for an omelette and beer.  Jesus will be there.  It'll be like the Second Coming.

Then we are all meeting up for a farewell drink as tomorrow, we say goodbye to the Guatemala 1 group who are returning to the UK in time for work on Monday morning.  The remaining 14 of us are flying up to the heart of the Aztec kingdom in Tikal, where we understand that we will be staying in a swamp.  I'll let you know tomorrow. 

My first live gig! And meeting Jesus.

Last night, Pip and I headed off across town to what sounded like a quirky place called 'Rainbow Cafe'.  After a few wrong turnings, we found the place.  It was very friendly and chilled, packed full of Europeans, Americans, Canadians, Australians.  This was a proper ex-pat hang-out.  The  beer was flowing, people were gathering.  I liked it straightaway.  A poster at the entrance boasted 'Wednesday - Open Mic Night'.  I thought to myself - shame it's not Wednesday.  Then I thought - hang on a minute....!

I signed up to perform, then set about writing myself a comedy routine, exploring our experiences on this amazing trip, then I got up and performed! It was fantastic, engaging with the crowd, asking if they were in the Girl Scouts - one man claimed that he was, but I think he was lying - then I chatted on about Twitter, vegetarianism, time management and other subjects close to my heart, then finished with my poem, Broken Society.  It was well-received and extremely exciting.  Pip was tweeting out pictures, telling the world about my stand-up debut.  I've got into stand-up and comedy impro in the last few months and have some gigs coming up in London, having almost come to the end of my Central American tour (Mexico last week, Guatemala yesterday).  If you're around, come to The George Pub in the Strand on Mon 22nd April, 7.30pm for 8pm,  £5 on the door.  See you there?

But enough about all that. 

We checked out early this morning, then Elgar, our trusty driver, who is taking some time-out from his composing regime to drive us round Guatemala, piled our luggage on top of the bus quite spectacularly, lashing it all together with what he called a 'carpet' was in fact, a tarpauline, under which everything was quite safe.

We headed for Chichicastenango, the famous site of the bustling market, where they sell everything you can possibly imagine, from TV remotes, to live budgies, very dead chicken (which looked sumptuous in the morning heat), to thimbles, worry dolls, and every type of Guatemalan mask imaginable.  We hired a guide called Tomas, who showed us around.  All the guides were smartly clad in khaki jackets and it felt like an organised operation.  The market was an exhilarating jumble of smells, stupendous colours, curious noises - a cacophony of small boys chasing us with wooden flutes, vendors shouting 'Hola, I give you good price'.  I was followed the entire time by a woman trying to sell me a giant piece of weaving, which was beautiful, but there's no way it would fit in my bag.  I commended her for her persistence.

As yesterday, women sat by the road weaving, or embroidering, with their babies lashed to their packs in beautiful traditional cloth. 

This place thrives on the informal economy and we all put some of our tourist dollars into it.  Several of the group bought Christmas decorations, most appropriate at this time of year in Guatemala.

We bundled back into the bus and in the late afternoon, arrived at our hotel, where I am currently sitting on the balcony, overlooking a glorious white tree covered in white lights, listening to distant barking and the hum of music from nearby bars.

We spent a fun hour or so on a balcony, having a beer at Helena's Restaurant, which is nearby.  Her restaurant consisted of 3 plastic tables, with chairs, a fridge, a lot of dead flowers, tinsel and multiple Christmas decorations.  My Spanish is quite limited, but we established that she is 24, with twin sons - Alphonso and Louis.  We agreed to go back there for dinner tomorrow, she was asking what time we would come.  A 12-year-old boy then appeared, and started chatting to us in English, which he told us he has learnt from the tourists he had met in the street, as it's too expensive to learn it at school.  He proceeded to translate the entire menu for us.  His name was Jesus; so yes, the Region Chief and I met Jesus. 

Pip taught the local child population our 'Oggy Oggy Oggy' chant, which can be heard in towns and villages across Guatemala.

Well I shall leave it there for now - off to dinner soon.  Hope you are doing well.

Thinking of joining The Mayan Society - who's in?

Warm greetings from Guatemala.  We are still in Antigua, which is still like a film-set, punctuated by colourfully-clad women selling their wares, often with tiny infants in equally colourful slings over their backs.

One of the many highlights of today was being dressed up as an authentic Guatemalan woman, by an internationally renowned Guatemalan woman, who has weaved her way around the world, weaving at international level.  No doubt there will be some photos around somewhere - in fact, I have just retweeted a photo - have a look here and you'll see it.  I felt like a famous person, when everyone whipped out their cameras and I posed.  I think I made quite a good Guatemalan woman - the Converse sneakers really topped off the outfit.  Margaret was dressed too - she was the mother-in-law. 

We learnt about how when a Guatemalan woman becomes pregnant, she spends as much time as possible weaving, as sitting in that position somehow influences the hip bone, making giving birth easier.  The mothers in the group agreed that this was where they had gone wrong - not enough weaving.

Guatemalan women also save on maternity wear buy wearing baggy clothes, which they can grow underneath and not need to worry about it not fitting.  Clever eh?

We were warned earlier, by our trusty tour guide Manuel (who was yesterday reasssured to be informed that we were a group of 'Guides', rather than 'tour guides', which he was a bit scared about), that a cruise ship was due to dock later in the day, and that the town would be awash with tourists, between 700 and 1000 of them.  He wasn't wrong - they were everywhere, with their ID name badges, ridiculous numbers of travel gadgets about their person, purchasing industrial quantities of coffee and pleasing the ubiquitous women selling cloths and men selling wooden flutes.

But Guatemala is (or certainly used to be) one of the poorest countries in the world, based on GDP per person.  Tourism is the lifeblood of the economy here, and it does seem to be geared towards tourists.  There are many co-operatives included on tour itineraries, meaning that tourist dollars are being put into the pockets of local people, not just international conglomerates.  Although there is no shortage of them - MacDonalds, Burger King, Domino's Pizza (complete with delivery bikes) and, most alarmingly, G4S, who are slowly taking over the whole world; globalisation at its most tragic. 

We visited another church today.  The most intriguing thing about this one, was a cross adorned with symbols which related to the crucifixion - a dice because those who crucified Jesus gambled to decide who got which clothes; a crown of thorns; a ladder, used to get Him onto the cross.  This was a very powerful image outside the church.  There was also a motorbike park next to it.  I don't remember that from my theology degree, but I might have missed that lecture.

Catholicism is very strong here.  Yesterday, we watched a youth cross himself as he sped past a church on his bicycle. 

We spent a lot of time at Casa Santo Domingo, which is a 'cultural route created by an agreement between the San Carlos Universidad and the Casa Santo Domingo Hotel'.  In Guatemala, the boys go to Universidad and the girls go to Universimum. 

This was a beautiful complex of gardens, museums and art, old and new.  We visited a little chapel, complete with electric points where the Mayans used to charge their iPhones.  There was a great deal of explanation about some of the artefacts - even a couple of the Mayan gargoyles seemed to be yawning at times. 

In one of the museums - the caption was 'Father God - carved wood and poly-chromed'.  I think I've met her.  Then there was the 'Throne of Grace' - I've met her too.  One of the statues wore a hardhat, which seemed a bit extreme. 

The Region Chief pointed out that some of the male statues were wearing insufficient loincloths. 

I found out yesterday that my sister is going to have a baby boy, so I'm going to be an uncle, which is exciting.  I'm going to suggest she calls it Moctezuma. 

Later we went to a coffee plantation, where we sipped sumptuous coffee, then toured the grounds, learning about the process.  I read about Guatemala's main exports, which I think are mascara, ceramic owls and pastries.  It was in Spanish, so I could be a bit inaccurate. 

We watched a video of Guatemalan music and dancing.  They wear quite sinister masks and perform dancing akin to morris dancing.  One of the masks looked uncannily like Nick Clegg.  Trust no-one. 

I was able to play the glockenspiel, with significantly less skill than the men in the courtyard yesterday, though I was able to bash out a Guatemalan version of 'The Entertainer' as the keys were just like a piano, of which I was quite proud. 

Next, we headed to the Cappuccino Cathedral, where instead of bread and wine at communion, they have cappuccinos and paninis. 

Today, Manuel informed us that the Mayan believe that women are the centre of the universe.  We agree. 

Farewell Mexico, hola Guatemala!

Well hola my very special readers.  Thank you for reading. 

This is surreal.  My first major long-term trip abroad was to West Africa in 2002, yes, indeed, 11 years ago, a Guide's lifetime.  I used to walk into Cape Coast once a week, along the beautiful coastal road, ignoring wolf-whistling taxi drivers and purchasing chunks of sumptuous pineapple from women at the side of the road, then spend a few thousand pesos checking my e-mail in a dodgy internet cafe.  Fast-forward to 2013.  Here I am in Guatemala, using a tiny laptop, connected to complimentary hotel wifi, sitting on my bed, blogging about my day.  When I've finished, I'll do a quick tweet.  My, how technology has changed!

We left Our Cabana at 6.45 this morning.  It was very sad to leave, as it had become our World Centre home for the last week or so.  I hope that if you are a Leader, you have taken my advice seriously and that you are planning a trip there in the near future? Go on - give your girls a World Centre experience - it is awesome and will change lives. 

I have spent a good chunk of travelling time today, sleeping - as mentioned, it's one of my key skills.  I slept from Our Cabana to the airport, then on the flight to Guatemala.  I inadvertently had to surrender my suncream at security, after neglecting to put it into my checked baggage.  How embarrassing. 

So we flew to Guatemala City, then bundled into a waiting bus with our guide Manuel, who took us to Antigua (not the Antigua in the Carribean, obviously).  The hotel is gorgeous.  It is based around a characteristic courtyard, with a genuine Guatemalan band playing music on glockenspiels and a double base (or 'big violin' according to my room mate), adding so much character to the place.  Hearing them play on arrival was magical and I could have sat listening for hours.

Manuel took us on a walking tour of Antigua, which is like a film set, a step back in time.  The streets are full of horse-drawn carts, women selling their wares - invariably local cloth, all in a balmy and very tolerable temperature - cooler than Mexico, but still humid and warm.  Perfect.

We wandered around the Cathedral, then saw the old cathedral which has succumbed to many earthquakes, which Manuel assured us happen here on a daily basis, due to the location of Guatemala across two tectonic plates.  I slept through a minor earthquake in Japan once, and would do the same again, quite obliviously. 

This evening we ate in the hotel and were treated to a display of Guatemalan dance, accompanied by the same band who were playing earlier.  Some group members even joined in with the dances, after being dragooned by the peculiarly-clad dancers.  It was actually remarkably similar to morris dancing, in that they had similar rhythms and dances, although the scary masks were a bit strange.  This was 'folklore dancing' according to the advertisement.  Coupled with a glass or two or Sauvignon Blanc, it was a wonderful evening, with delicious food, prefaced by obligatory tortillas and finished off with local coffee.  Sublime. 

We have been following the 'No More Page 3' campaign coverage, which has been on BBC News all day today, and very widely retweeted.   Girlguiding has signed up to 'No More Page 3' and end the objectification of women.  The campaign has been on BBC and ITV News today and in the national press.  If you haven't signed the petition, you can do so here: http://www.change.org/en-GB/petitions/dominic-mohan-take-the-bare-boobs-out-of-the-sun-nomorepage3 - come on, let's make history. 

More tomorrow.  Hasta luego.

Today was beautiful

Today was beautiful.  It epitomised everything that is wonderful about Guiding.  I will be leaving Our Cabaña very early tomorrow morning and am sad to be leaving. 

This morning, a large group came from VAMOS and we ran a series of activities for them for our service project.  Co-ordinated beautifully by Zoë (thanks to Helen C for telling me that ALT+137 produces the dots), we ran various stations around the sun-drenched field, shielded by ubiquitous marquees which punctuated  the perimeter.

We ran a whole mixture of activities, using the various bits of equipment here and that which we brought with us.  Activities included team games, action songs, face-painting, straw towers, flower-making, string trail, sheet games, endless renditions of 'Oggy Oggy Oggy', which translates into Spanish - 'Oggy Oggy Oggy!'

I ran a station on the tennis court with Kate, where we ran a game where the children had to move cornflakes around with straws, a mixture of organisation and dexterity.  We played a comedy organisation game called 'Siete', which translated is 'Seven'.  I learnt this game at a Sprout Drop-In Improvisation workshop the other week, and it has already been used at three Guiding events - thanks, Sprout people! It can be used in any language, all you need to be able to do is count to seven.  Next time I see you, I will teach it to you, so you have that to look forward to.

After the groups had rotated their way around all the activities, the children were able to play with the sports equipment.  It was great fun flinging tennis balls around for the children to bash with tennis rackets, kicking footballs around and running around the field in the blazing heat.

We all had lunch together under gazebos and the shade of trees.  Gill acted as our trusty translator and we chatted, laughed and joked with the children, over hot dogs and watermelon.  Muy bien.

I spent our free afternoon writing postcards to some of you, and adding my name to the Stop the Violence wall here at , and reflecting on what has been a major undertaking over the last 18 months.  This phase is now at an end, and tomorrow, we go our separate ways - 17 to Guatemala, 1 to Cuba, 8 will remain in Mexico (not for ever, for a few days).

The Mexican fiesta was superb.  We ate delicious traditional Mexican cuisine, then out of nowhere, a bunch of, oh dear, I can't remember the word, so I'll say Marionettes, which is a similar word, but they were a group of musicians variously wielding guitars, trumpets, drums, who appeared from nowhere whilst we were eating, and proceeded to produce a dynamic musical display.  We adjourned for dancing and it was really great fun, accompanied by the Marionettes (sorry, I'll find out the proper word and tell you tomorrow, if you're still reading). 

We then moved onto the Closing Ceremony where the staff spoke about all we had done this week, and showed us a moving collection of the photographs they have been taking since we  arrived.  There were multiple thank-yous to the staff and volunteers, who made it happen, along with the trusty Committee who guided the whole thing.  I presented a comedy routine mentioning most of the group, and their quirks which I had picked up this week - Sheila's reassuring confusion, Gill's love of the Spanish languagge, Zoë's eminent calm, and the fact that Maureen fits into the locker in our dorm.  Baxter the Bear, Maureen's companion, was present, having received his Our Cabaña t-shirt earlier, from the Region Chief. 

Well, here endeth my last post from Our Cabaña, but fear not, this is the beginning rather than the end.  There are 26 of us coming back to the UK soon, equipped to share what we have learnt about WAGGGS, Our Cabaña and Stop The Violence. 

See you soon - be ready for us!

Is it a yurt? Is it a pizza oven? No, it's a temazcal. Obviously.

Well, good evening friend and thank you for reading.  I hope you are enjoying reading our my adventures.  I have just coated myself in 'Deet Femme' and am ready to fend off the mosquitoes of the world, who have, in the past, been rather partial to my flesh.   

My patrol was on Colours duty this morning, and we ran a moving session to open the day, where we reflected on the Stop the Violence campaign, and renewed our commitment to the Guide Law, thinking about the Guide Laws in the UK and those of the Guias de Mexico.  Gill translated them into English for us, which was useful as I didn't know she spoke Spanish. 

The colour party consisted of Zoë, Eileen and Maureen.  It was a special moment, and they were clad beautifully in their trip t-shirts.  Maureen had never been in a colour party, in thirty years of Guiding.  Margaret then said a few words about the importance of keeping the Guide Laws.  To close, I taught the group the song which anyone who went to the Girls' World Forum will remember singing at the closing ceremony, with tears in our eyes - 'I am one voice and I am singing' which gradually, over a couple of hours, builds up to 'We are 10 million voices singing'.  It was beautiful. 

Post-Colours, we piled into the coach, bound for Tepoztlan, a nearby craft town.  I sat on a balcony watching the world go by, as I like to do, sipping Coke - a little treat when I'm abroad.  We wandered around the craft market, where I purchased some delightful earrings, which will last a lot longer than the ones I usually buy from Accessorize.  Unless I lose them, which I will endeavour not to.  They were tiny stars, very pretty.  Others enjoyed a tour of the cathedral, the market, and delicious ice-cream in all sorts of crazy flavours.

Then we jumped back into the coach and drove to a curious place.  I would describe the journey, but I was sound asleep.  I love journeys,  but I often miss them because I am asleep.  Do you know that poem called Slow Dance? There is a line of it which says 'When you rush so fast to get somewhere, you miss half the fun of  getting there'.  There should be another line really, which says 'unless you are asleep'.  I have missed thousands of miles of journeys due to being asleep.  It's one of my key skills.  I thought about writing a book once, called 'Wake Me Up with I Get to Timbuktu', based on my overland journey to Timbuktu in 2002.  I wouldn't recommend a trip there now mind.  Bad things sometimes happen when I leave a country.  I left the Ivory Coast one Wednesday in 2002, and civil war broke out on the Thursday.

Anyway, we lunched and I sat with Hilary and the vegetarian gang.  I enjoyed a slab of chicken whilst they grazed on leaves.

There was a structure which looked rather like the yurt at Cudham; a cross between that and a pizza-oven.  In fact, it was a temazcal, a type of Mexican sauna.  Some of the group enjoyed some time inside where they found hot volcanic rocks and a man called José who gave them lemon tea to drink at the beginning and in the middle of their yurt-stay, which was about thirty minutes.  The door was locked.  There was no escape.   I am going to canvas three people about how they felt after their yurt / pizza oven experience.  Helen C says 'it was relaxing, very sweaty and gave me time to meditate; I saw butterflies and stars'.  Sally says 'I was determined to embrace the experience, though I was unsure at the start.  I enjoyed being hosed down at the end'.  Pip found it a tad claustrophic, especially when the door was bolted.  Note to self - do not lock the Region Chief in a cupboard.  Some found the experience a bit unsettling, coupled with a fit of giggles, the experience was curtailed. 

I read my book whilst others embraced the temazcal.  I am very close to finishing my book.  Then I am going to read another book.  I'm going to read 'Things Fall Apart', in memory of the famous African writer, Chinua Achebe, who died recently.

The heat here is balmy.  Cicadas chirrup in the evenings.  Various bugs fly around.  If we see a scorpion, we are instructed to tell it to dial 4 from the emergency phone. 

So I'm signing out now.  Can't quite believe that it's our last day here tomorrow.  Night night.

   







   

Imagining More

Major thanks to those who have written comments and tweeted.  I am gently reassured that real live people, apart from me and others on the trip, are reading it.  Thanks too for the tweets - I'm @Helen_B_B if you're into all that.

We have had another action-packed day here at Our Cabaña, in sweltering heat.  Each day, a patrol takes responsibility for Colours, whereby the World Flag is raised.  My patrol consists of all the people I am sharing a dorm with - there are 9 of us in the dorm, most of whom claim that they don't snore.  Our dorm is called Tulipanes, which means hibiscus in Spanish, apparently.

One of the dorm members, Maureen, has a small bear called Baxter, who keeps mysteriously disappearing.  Today he was located on top of the lockers, out of the reach of Maureen, as most places are.  A dramatic rescue attempt ensued, whereby a human pyramid was created, enabling his immediate release (and a few broken bones that we won't mention here).  Later in the day, Baxter was found sun-bathing by the pool, wearing his sombrero.  He has disappeared again.  No-one can possibly imagine how he keeps ending up in such a dynamic range of places.

We had a fantastic morning today, with the Guias de Mexico, who live locally in Cuernavaca.  They came along and we enjoyed songs, team games, and badge swapping.  Our team, imaginatively called 'Quatros Guias Y Amigos' came first, thanks to a superb combination of stealth, stamina and team-work, (apart from the disastrous three-legged race, which resulted in an unfortunate pile of legs).  We had a great time with the Guias, laughing and chatting, in Spanish, with various degrees of proficiency.

After lunch, we headed to downtown Cuernavaca for the afternoon.  I have drunk about 24 litres of water today.  It is sweltering here and you have to keep hydrating to avoid passing out.

We had an informative tour of the beautiful Cathedral in Cuernavaca; it is a huge space, but strangely without pillars.  There was an enormous font by the door.  I like that font, but I prefer Trebuchet. 

I spent some quality time on roof terraces, munching ice-cream, and thinking.

This evening, we enjoyed a session called 'Imagine More', where we were thinking about what Guiding gives to us, how it helps us to develop as individuals and leaders.  WAGGGS is now looking forward to the next one-hundred years of Guiding, having celebrated the Centenary recently.  We thought about what we will be doing in Guiding, in the next 5 years and were encouraged to write a little pledge about how we were going to take the learning from this session forward. 

I am so keen to get more people involved in international Guiding.  The opportunities which Guiding provides to girls and young women are incredible, and I really want Leaders to encourage their girls to apply for these opportunities as they are life-changing.  If you are a Leader, find out who your local International Adviser is.  E-mail her and ask her about the opportunities which are available to girls in your County and beyond.  Ask her about what opportunities are available to you as an Adult Leader (if that's what you are). If there aren't any opportunities currently, create some! Sign yourself up for the next Travelling Abroad Training, go along, and find out more! If you are aged 18 - 35, get yourself into the Global Opportunities Pool.

If you are not able to take your unit abroad, then bring the world to your unit.  Use international resources to educate your girls about WAGGGS and the wider world.  Encourage girls to work on the various interest badges which relate to the world. 

Am signing out now, as we're losing an hour's sleep tonight, apparently, then leading Colours in the morning, which I will tell you all about tomorrow.  Night night. 

Definitely Maybe Friday?

Today we spent the day in Taxco.  It sounds quite like Tesco, but is not remotely similar.  Although having said that, the taxis zooming up and down the road are quite dicey, a bit like supermarket trolleys in Tesco, with maniacs at the helm. But there are no similarities apart from that.   

After Colours, breakfast and making packed lunches, we boarded the bus and headed to a silver shop, where we learnt all about how to identify real silver.  It sounds different when you hit it.  We had the opportunity to buy some.  Most of us sold a kidney to pay for this trip, so we don't have a lot of money left to buy silver.  You only need one kidney really.  Although I did buy a pair of very small earrings, for my very small ears.   

Strolling through the winding streets of Taxco was like stepping back in time.  The taxis are all VW Beetles, which look like little bugs.  They tear up the streets like angry winding ants, but with skilful manoeuvres.  There are also minibuses aplenty, not quite up to TFL standards.  Helen Candy (one of three Helens on this trip - yes, three; call any of us Helen or Jill and you have 20% chance of being right) went in a bus and tells me the greatest risk was in being flung out of the side door, because there wasn't one. 

I spent a great deal of time on roof terraces chatting and watching the world go by.  I love roof terraces and have sat on them across the world.  I also purchased a geniune Mexican thimble, to add to my collection.  I started collecting thimbles at the tender age of 7 when my mother suggested that I purhcase one at Beatrix Potter's house because that's where I happened to be.  She suggested I start a collection, which I did and now have more than 500 which document my entire life.  But they don't sell them in Burkina Faso, which was disappointing. 

Many of the group took the cable car at Montetaxco, then for the best views, they wandered into the neighbouring hotel, across the roof terrace, and took up positions by the pool to take the best photographs across the vista.

I can't believe I have neglected to tell you all about our dorm trip at 6.30am to see the volcano.  Led by our trusty Region Chief, we marched in our pyjamas to the campfire circle, but it was a bit hazy.  One of my favourite vegetarians, Hilary, turned up, looking confused.  We didn't see the volcano, but we had a lot of fun trying to find it. 

This evening I ran a comedy improvisation workshop for whoever wanted to join in.  We had many laughs playing impro games.  If you don't know much about comedy impro, think 'Who's Line Is It Anyway?', think 'Comedy Store Players'.  In fact, why not go to the Comedy Store one Wednesday or Sunday night to see the best impro in London - the Comedy Store Players - they are superb.

I am interested to know if anyone is reading this.  If you are doing so, and you like it, please write nice comments.  If you don't like it, please don't write anything.

Night night!

Part 2 of yesterday’s blog

Hope you watched that video.  Let’s just consider those statistics again.  According to the UN Women’s estimations, 6 out of 10 girls and women globally will be subject to violence or abuse in their lifetime.  6 in 10, that is 3 in 5, more than half.  More than half!

The next statistic – 60 million girls are sexually assaulted on their way to school each year.  60  million.   That’s the population of the UK.

How many girls worldwide are child brides, married before the age of 18? More than 60 million.

The opening discussion yesterday was about how society managed to get to this point.  Or has society always been at this point, it has just not been talked about? There is endless scope for discussion on this topic, on the violence within society which seems to have been accepted as the norm within many societies, often due to the patriarchal nature of communities, and subordinate position of women.  Forced marriage, FGM, honour-based violence; it is everywhere, but only seems to come to the attention of the masses when there is one, high-profile case.  Yet women and girls worldwide are being affected by violence EVERY DAY. 

There has been a lot of coverage in the media recently about FGM, thanks to the hard work of organisations like FORWARD (who I used to work for), 28 Too Many and amazing individuals such as my colleague at Guy’s, Comfort Momoh MBE, but to many, FGM is still an unknown concept which people don’t realise is being organised in the UK.  If you don’t know what it is, look here.  This is a societal issue, of which more people need to be made aware.   It is estimated that 140 million girls and women have experienced FGM across the word.  140 million. 

But there are many other types of violence: emotional, financial, sexual, physical, and this is happening across the world, all the time.  Increasingly, rape is used as a weapon of war.  It is widely acknowledged that in a warzone, it is more dangerous to be a woman, than to be a soldier.  Think about that for a minute. 

But it's not just happening in warzones.  Violence against women and girls is happening all over the world.  WAGGGS is calling on its 10 million members to sign up to the Stop the Violence campaign, to make their voices heard. Add your voice here today.  If you are involved with Guiding, raise awareness of this within your unit.  There is an army of In4mers (peer educators) to help you with this - they are trained to deliver sessions about issues such as violence against women.  Get in touch with your District Commissioner or Senior Section Adviser, and they can let you know who your local In4mers are. 

Thursday - I am not a vegetarian. But Hilary is.

I know this because she has told me 117 times.  As we are staying at a World Centre, we were required to send in our health forms ahead of time, as any Leader in Girlguiding (that's Leader, not Guider, read this poem if you are confused about Guiding terminology), would know.  (If you enjoyed that poem, feel free to look here and here for many more.  I dutifully collected the forms, in their sealed envelopes, and they reached Mexico, according to the trusty Royal Mail online tracker.  Unfortunately, we do not know where in Mexico.

The day began in the morning, where I spent some quality time under a tree, reading something called a 'book'.  I do not do this very often, so it was quite a novelty.  I last read a book in 1998.  I did a Masters degree once, part-time over two years; it took me the first year to read the reading list. 

After my tree time, we enjoyed a hearty breakfast before embarking on a busy day of activities.  Firstly, we had a moving Opening Ceremony, where the staff joined us for the raising of the World Flag.  We all recited our Promise as the World Flag was raised.  Maureen and Eileen presented Mapi, the World Centre Manager, with a gift from their Trefoil Guild (I'm not sure which Guild it is, and if I write once it's bound to be the other, so I won't write either).

Then it was time for the group photo, and we all looked extremely smart in our team polo shirts.  Mine had funny marks on it due to the deodorant explosion recently, which has now been dealt with, thanks to a washing machine.  We posed on the steps, in strict height order, before enjoying some snaps embracing the concept of discovering and growing.

The first session of the day was called 'Discover the World Centres'.  If you are a Leader reading this, drop everything and start planning to bring a group to one of the World Centres.  They are located in the UK, Mexico, India and Switzerland.  There is also a Fifth World Centre pilot which is taking place in Africa.  It is crucial that we show our members what they are part of.  Contact your friendly local International Adviser and she will tell you all about how to go about taking a group abroad.  There is a shiny new training programme (which replaced the GAINING training), called the Travelling Abroad Training Programme, which is now operating throughout the UK.  To take a group abroad, you need to have the relevant licence, then 'have or be working towards the Travelling Abroad module'.  Tell your units and get planning!

Let me just tell you a bit about eating arrangements here.  We all eat together in a big Dining Room, where a staff member (or Zoë, who is a trainee staff member), sits at the head of the table and is the 'server'.  The person to the left of the server is the 'hopper', and they are the only person who is allowed to move during the meal.  So they go to the kitchen to collect the food when appropriate.  This is a very simple but effective way of sharing a meal togther; it embeds a sense of community, something central to Guiding at every level.

The 'Trading Post' opened and, after much deliberation, I purchased a rather nice gilet; not very useful in 28 degree Mexican heat, but useful on the way to Brownies on a cold Monday evening in Chislehurst. 

Various members of the group frollicked in the swimming pool, playing ball games, just like little Brownies, which was lovely.

Ok I'm going to get a bit serious now.

We did a session called 'Stop the Violence', which is the WAGGGS initiative to end violence against women and girls across the world.  The statistics associated with this are staggering.  Watch this video.  I have to go now as the computer room is about to close, but I will continue this later....   

   

Welcome to Our Cabaña!

Today, we have moved seamlessly from one world to another, from the touristic delights of Mexico City to the unique world of international Guiding.  I am sitting in the grounds of Our Cabaña, listening to the chirruping of local cicadas and the distance hum of traffic outside the compound.

This place is beautiful.  It is little paradise in Mexico, away from the hubbub of the world outside.  I received a tweet before I came here, saying this place is 'stunning' and I now see why.  It is a haven, a Guiding home, and if you have a unit, I would highly recommend bringing your Guides or Senior Section here.  Plan a trip, go on! Bring your unit here and show your unit what international Guiding is all about.

We checked out of the hotel and headed for Cuernavaca, which means 'horn cow', Gill tells me, and she knows everything about Spanish, because she took me on my first major international experience to the World Scout Jamboree in Chile in 1998, which incidentally, changed my life.  I didn't say a lot before that event, now I just can't stop talking.

Anyway, back to what I am meant to be writing about.  We arrived at Our Cabaña and received a warm welcome from the international staff.  I met Abigail, who I have been e-mailing for the last year or so, with details about our group - health forms, programme options, room-sharing etc.  It was like meeting a long-lost friend once again.

Let me tell me you about Our Cabaña.  It is one of the four World Centres of WAGGGS, where our ten million members from across the world can come and stay.  We are here on a 'pick n mix' programme, where we are enjoying a programme of activities which we chose, as a group.

Today was a day of learning about Our Cabaña, orientating ourselves with the site - it is about 5 acres, but feels much larger.  It consists of a series of dorms, functional rooms, such as a craft room, a dining hall where we share our meals together, programme office, swimming pool, tennis court, volley ball court, trading post, accommodation for staff and a series of cute gardens, such as the Garden of Dreams which hosts the sundial, and the Garden of Frogs.  There is a cat here who I have named Popocatépetl (see yesterday's blog), who wanders around the site.

We spent a chunk of the day enjoying Mexican cultural activities, run by the fantastic volunteers who are on placement here.  They included acting out Mexican independence, using bongo drums, a horse, and a spectacular performance from Margaret, who passionately declared Mexican independence, whilst I played the bongo drums; making a Mexican flag; helping to decorate a giant piñata which will be used later in the programme; we also played Mexican bingo, where we learnt lots of useful Mexican words; and made delicious guacamole, which I am definitely going to make when I get home, although I'm not sure the avocadoes in Morrison's will be quite as fresh as the locally-grown ones here.

In the evening, we enjoyed some team building games with group members and volunteers.  The whole day has been punctuated by comedy improvisation games.  I took this up fairly recently and have been mildly obsessed with it as it is fantastic for encouraging people to think on their feet, adapt their ideas, be flexible, listen, and it is also, often, hilarious.  We have been playing 'Proverb Generator', 'Three Talking Heads' (anyone who has been to the Comedy Store on a Wed or Sun night will be familiar with this) This afternoon, we had the world's leading expert on orienteering for armadillos.  Impressive eh?

Well, I shall sign out there and will write more very soon.  Hasta luego!

Moctezuma's multi-storey car-park

Greetings to you from Mexico City once again. 

I awoke this morning, extremely disconcerted by a vivid dream where we were all dragooned into joining a dodgy cult here in Mexico.  Methinks the altitude, coupled with meeting a large crowd of Germans in the immigration queue yesterday, who were going to an event which they 'couldn't really explain', (i.e. a cult gathering) manifested into a peculiar dream.  I made sure I told the group to avoid any potential invitations to join cults and it has been ok so far, as far as I know.

After breakfast, where there was an abundance of refried beans, which a certain group member has become rather partial to, we gathered and headed off on a fascinating walking tour of the frantic, busy, buzzing metropolis that is Mexico City.  We are staying right in the centre, surrounded by blaring taxi horns, men winding howling accordions in various states of disrepair, police cars with lights flashing and sirens shrieking, but trapped in with the rest of the traffic going nowhere fast, yet there is a certain vibrant feeling to the City, which I like.

Our trusty guide Violetta took us for an informative tour, taking in the Zocalo, the Main Square, which is the third largest square in the world, after Tiananmen Square in China and Red Square in Russia, all of which are very large squares.  There was an enormous Mexican flag in the middle of the Zocalo; I thought our new Guide flag was large, but it doesn't compare to the one we saw today.  Zoë tells me that they also have very large flags in Azerbaijan. 

We also saw various places associated with Moctezuma, the Aztec king, including excavations ofthe Templo Mayor, the ancient Aztec temple, and the multi-storey car-park where Moctezuma used to leave his car.

We moved on to the spectacular Metropolitan Cathedral, visiting the Metro station which Moctezuma used to use to travel to the Cathedral to worship.  The Metro station looked uncannily like Old Street station, so I felt quite at home. 

I do find places of religious significance fascinating; this Cathedral was full of worshippers, tourists, and various services occurred whilst people wandered through.  Violetta told us about the lack of official relations between the Vatican and Mexico until fairly recently, when the Pope (two Popes ago) came to visit.  Relations were then cemented, schools became officially Catholic, rather than just Catholic, and everyone was happy.  Not sure when the latest Pope will visit, but it's not that far from Argentina, so maybe he'll pop in when he pops home to visit his friends. 

The tour came to an end and we went our separate ways.  A group of us headed to the tallest building in Mexico City, which we dutifully climbed, well, with the help of a speedy lift which took us the first 42 floors.  The views were spectacular as the City is very flat because of earthquakes.  We could see the volcanoes in the distance.  I saw my favourite volcano, Popocatépetl.  It's active, but it hasn't erupted since... <googles> oh, March 7th.... 2013.  Ok so that was quite recently.  A month ago in fact.  Right.  In case you're wondering how to pronouce it, it's 'popper-catta-petal', which would be a good name for a cat in case you are thinking of buying one.

We went for a drink in a spectacular indoor courtyard bar, which had perfurmery at the front, an x-box shop at the back, and an overexcited lady playing with a plastic singing bird in the loo.  Yes, really.  

Post-siesta, we headed back to the square, to find my favourite type of place to eat - a roof terrace.  We had superb views over the square and surrounds, and we sipped Corona above the hustle and bustle and car horns of the city.  I ordered a Green Mole, an intriguing blend of beef, pumpkin seeds and various other things.  I'm not sure what they were, but that's what being abroad is all about!

Signing out now.  We are off to Our Cabaña in the morning! Hasta luego!

Safely arrived!

Flying is so curious.  The whole concept of spending almost as long at the airport either side of the flight as the flight itself is surely not what God intended.  But then, if God had intended that we should fly, he would have built the airports closer to where the people live. 

We amassed this morning at Heathrow, group G2 checking in together as instructed by Dynamic Dave the travel agent.  This was a smooth process, apart from one group who managed to arrive late then had to re-pack her entire bag due to being over the weight limit.  I won't mention her name, but you know who you are, don't you Sheila?

Just a bit of background to this trip. We are a large group of adult members of Girlguiding  in Greater London Kent, plus our Region Chief.  We fulfil numerous leadership roles within the County and have been looking forward to this trip for a long time.  My hope is that it will inspire those involved to lead groups abroad, to learn more about the giant organisation they are part of - WAGGGS- and generally to engage more with Guiding on an international scale, be it by encouraging their girls to apply for international opportunities, or they themselves.  There was talk over dinner this evening of people thinking about taking their units abroad, and that's what this is all about - enabling our members to show their units what they are part of and how exciting and special the world of international Guiding is.

We are now spending two nights in Mexico City, to acclimatise, as we are a very long way above sea level.  I know this because my deodorant exploded earlier, for this very reason.

I can't wait to see a bit of Mexico City tomorrow, before heading to Our Cabaña on whatever the next day will be.  I struggle with seasons and changing the clocks in the UK - this travelling back in time malarkey is therefore immensely confusing.   I think it's Tuesday now, but I can't be sure.

We had some April Fools fun this morning, various texts were flying around to say all flights to Mexico had been cancelled for the forseeable, which worried a few people.

I shall sign-out there.  Happy Tuesday (I think).