Ice Queen?

The first time I was in South Africa doing an internship from June - August 2006 (South Africa's winter months) with Rich Products in Johannesburg, South Africa, everyone in the office was enamored by the snow that melted by the time it slowly made its way down to the pavement. It was the first snowfall in 25 years. I laughed at their child-like amazement- I mean, sure, snow was (and still is) pretty rare in Johannesburg, sitting at approximately 1,700 m. (just over 1 mile) in altitude, but let's be realistic: you put a girl from Buffalo ANYWHERE with snow, and nothing can really surprise her. Nevertheless, I will admit it was pretty cool to be there at the time.

Fast forward to July 2007. This time, I am in Buenos Aires, Argentina, taking a Spanish course during my summer break. It was getting so frigid that I would wear my Buffalo winter jacket and alpaca wool gloves outside just to get from place to place in the city. Before I knew it, I was looking at a light snowfall that suddenly turned into full on heavy snow falling, compact enough to build snowmen. This was the first time Buenos Aires had a snowfall since 1918- almost 90 years. Once again, I was there to witness it, experience it, take it all in.

Now here we are, 22 December 2009, in the Western Highlands of Guatemala in the department of San Marcos. Not only am I lucky enough to have a stunning view of Tajumulco (Central America's highest volcanic point at 4,220 m.) from my town, but from my front door step.

Just to give you all an idea of the Central American tropical paradise I have been living in the past sixteen months: I am nestled among mountains that abruptly plunge into twisting valleys. Each morning I wake up with the sun creeping its way into my room. I step out of my bed, covered in four layers of blankets, including a down comforter, and slip my moccasins over my thick wools socks. Hood over head and long underwear and sweatpants readjusted after a night's slumber, I climb out of bed and open my bedroom door to the courtyard to brave the cool morning air. The morning temperature ranges anywhere from 5°C to 10°C (41°F - 50°F). As I open my mouth to yawn, a stream of mist quickly escapes out of my mouth and disintegrates in the frigid air.

Did I mention I live at 2,280 m. (7,480 ft.)?

OK, so maybe it's not quite a tropical paradise... at all, actually. Every morning I muster up the courage to take a capricious warm shower under what I affectionately call my "suicide shower" (in reference to all the wires hanging astray above my head whilst showering). As soon as I'm finished, I immediately wrap a towel around my body and throw one over my wet hair and run into the sun out on the patio in an effort to warm up.

And I have officially woken up.

This morning I woke up at 6am for two meetings I had - one at 8am at the office, and then another one in a village about an hour's drive away for an inauguration of a school. Once I woke up, I decided to see how many clouds were out in an attempt to predict the weather, as it has been raining unseasonably for the past few days- extremely unusual, as it is now the second month of the dry season and thus should not be raining at all.

As I open my door, I'm shocked to see something I've never seen in over a year of being in my town: a snow-capped Tajumulco.

The news even made the front page of Guatemala's national paper, the Prensa Libre, and a YouTube video can also be found about the rare snowfall.

Snow in South Africa, Argentina, and now Guatemala. Coincidence? Perhaps... but as Guatemalans say, saber! (Who knows?)

But Ice Queen? I hardly think so. I'd just like to think of it as me ensuring that Guatemalans (and the odd PCV) in San Marcos can also enjoy a White Christmas.