ANTIGUA, Guatemala -- As a student at a New York City public high school, I wasn't a fan of Spanish classes.

Each day, Mrs. Walsh would barge into the fluorescently lit room, slam the palm of her hand against her desk three times and shout, "Amsco!," prompting 30 students to awaken from a midday stupor and pull out hefty textbooks. With her pearl-white beehive never moving, she would dispense nuggets of linguistic wisdom -- "Don't dentalize your Ds!" -- in an accent that was more Brooklyn than Barcelona.

(To this day, my friend Bryan performs a frighteningly perfect imitation.)

My experience at the Academia de Espanol Guatemala in August was very, very different.

Classes were set around a swimming pool and a blossoming garden. Rope hammocks swung lazily nearby. Tea and coffee were plentiful, as were "dobladas," spicy meat pockets that served as tasty late-morning snacks. Students came from every corner of the globe.

In the afternoons, I would walk the cobblestone streets of Antigua, Guatemala's colonial capital and one of the most beautiful cities in Central America. It's surrounded by three volcanoes, including the towering Agua, which dominates the city's southern vista, and Fuego, which erupted during my first week, spewing lava thousands of feet into the air (from a safe distance).

And there was plenty of Spanish at the AEG: Six hours of one-on-one classes and a home stay with a warm family who prepared hearty meals and treated me as one of their own.

I didn't pursue a foreign language after high school, something I came to regret as a journalism graduate student about four years ago, when I found myself unsuccessfully trying to interview Latinos in New York's immigrant enclaves. After a mixture of private lessons, books, CDs and a class at the University of Pittsburgh, I acquired some competency in Spanish and a deep appreciation for the language's lyricism.

I hoped a three-week immersion course would push my linguistic skills to a new level. Several friends recommended Antigua, which has become a leader in Spanish instruction. It now has up to 80 schools, and new ones open (and close) every several months, according to Gustavo Adolfo Celis, the owner of AEG.

In the mid-1990s, Mr. Celis quit his job at another school, where he had fallen in love with one of his American students. They became business partners and started a Spanish academy that expanded into the realm of social events, trips and a total immersion experience for students.

AEG, now 13 years old, employs about 40 to 50 teachers, including many who have decades of experience and followed Mr. Celis from his old school. As I was studying there, the teachers were attending mandatory biweekly night classes of their own to learn new educational techniques and expand their knowledge of Guatemala's culture and history. AEG is certified by the Ministry of Education and the Guatemalan Tourism Institute (Inguat), a status matched by only about a quarter of the city's schools, Mr. Celis said. It offers classes for any level.

Total immersion

On my first day, I was paired with Teresa, or Terri, a small, bespectacled 40-something woman with bushy black hair who has spent almost her entire life in Antigua. We sat at a small table under a thatched roof near the garden. After 20 minutes of conversation, she discovered my weaknesses -- prepositions and the irksome subjunctive tense, which troubles most native English speakers.

Our classes ranged from drills to readings to discussions about Guatemala's often tragic history, including the recent civil war that killed tens of thousands of people and ended with a peace accord a decade ago.

Terri and I also quickly became friends. I spoke of my job writing about politics for the Post-Gazette, and she invited me to go with her after our first day of classes to meet the Antigua mayoral candidate from the Partido Patriota, or Patriot Party.

Guatemala was preparing for national elections on Sept. 9, and political propaganda covered most streets. I acquired many useful vocabulary words, including foro (debate), encuesta (poll), and corupcion (the city's current mayor had allegedly stolen huge sums of money and was considering fleeing the country).

Not surprisingly, I learned more during three weeks at AEG than I did over three years of high school Spanish. My biggest complaint is that I had to switch teachers my final week, despite requesting more time with Terri.

Mr. Celis rotates teachers to expose students to a variety of styles. My second teacher, Naty, was just as strong, but I would have preferred continuity.

I also had complaints about my initial living arrangements. The school placed me with a family that had a number of other students. They were all fascinating characters -- Jack, the 19-year-old cellist from Wales; Lilja, the biologist from Iceland; Monica, the Christian Scientist from Seattle; and a Dutch couple who were part of a volunteer group working in one of the city's hospitals. But I was looking for a total immersion.

AEG was very accommodating. The school works with about 50 to 60 families, and in my second week I moved into the house of Eliseo and Angela Morales, where I was the only student. They were wonderful.

Angelita, as she preferred to be called, was an excellent cook, preparing typical dishes such as pepian, a soupy meat dish mixed with rice and güisquil, a local vegetable. There always were hefty portions of cheese, bread and black beans. Breakfast included omelets, fruit, cereal and pancakes.

The couple lived with their granddaughter, 17-year-old Rebecca, but children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, cousins and neighbors were always visiting. Angelita readily shared with me her concerns about relatives' shortcomings, from excessive drinking to marital infidelities.

Tourists attractions

Speaking Spanish is, at times, a challenge in Antigua, because the city is teeming with tourists. The city is peaceful and alluring, with moderate temperatures (and short but frequent rainfall in the summer months) and a rainbow collage of Spanish colonial-style buildings.

The city's leafy Central Park, abutted by the majestic, white-faced Santiago Cathedral, is filled with local students in crisp school uniforms and foreigners lugging body-sized backpacks. I would sit and sip horchata, a rice drink, and alternate between people watching and reviewing new vocabulary words.

Tourists can choose from many culinary and night spots. My favorites were Frida's, a Mexican joint that served mounds of nachos; Cafe Sky, which had a rooftop bar with stunning views of the city and the nearby volcanoes; and the Bagel Barn, where you can eat a decent bagel with just about anything, including ubiquitous avocados. Residents of Antigua have earned the nickname Panzas Verdes, or green bellies, because of their fondness for the green vegetable.

Antigua's premier hotel, Casa Santo Domingo, serves an incredible Sunday brunch for $15, with local and foreign favorites. The hotel itself is stunning, set in the ruins of a former monastery.

Crime against tourists, mostly armed robberies, has become less of a problem in Antigua since the city set up a tourism police force, whose officers patrol popular sites and escort tourists to the Cerro de la Cruz, or Cross Hill, overlooking the city. Still, travelers should take proper precautions, such as avoiding isolated streets at night.

The city attracts many charitable travelers who want to give their time in community projects. I spent several afternoons feeding patients at the Santo Herman Pedro hospital, which treats people who can't afford to pay. Teams of U.S. doctors and nurses and those from other countries come throughout the year to perform a range of medical procedures.

The Spanish schools can help organize such volunteer experiences. They also set up trips to sites outside of Antigua, such as the Lago de Atitlan, one of the most spectacular lakes in the world (see sidebar), and Pacaya, a volcano near Guatemala City that I climbed with a group of French Jehovah's Witnesses. We roasted marshmallows over lava.

During the drive back to Antigua, I took out my Spanish notebook to review the previous week's lessons.

Mrs. Walsh would be proud.

If you go...

Guatemala

• Where: Antigua is near Guatemala City. Spanish language schools often offer shuttle services to and from the capital's international airport.

• How to get there: Almost all international flights come to Guatemala City's Aurora Airport. Round-trip prices from Pittsburgh range from $400 to $700 during most parts of the year. American Airlines, Continental, United Airlines and US Airways serve as the principal carriers, making connections in southern U.S. cities, usually Dallas, Houston, Miami or Charlotte. Travelers can also switch to Taca, a Latin American airline that serves many major American cities, including New York, Chicago and Washington, D.C.

• Sampling of schools: Antigua is a hotbed of Spanish-language schools, boasting up to 80. Here are details of the one that I experienced, as well as two others that were recommended:

• Academia de Espanol Guatemala: The school is in the heart of Antigua. Four hours of daily one-on-one classes, which take place around a lovely garden and pool, cost $140 per week, while six hours cost $210. A home stay with a local family costs $75 per week, and it includes three meals a day, except on Sunday. Round-trip transportation from the airport is $60. The school's Web address is http://acad.conexion.com.

• Centro Linguistic International: A friend highly recommended this school, which has a spacious courtyard and is set a little farther from the hustle-and-bustle of central Antigua. It is $100 for four hours of daily morning classes. A home stay is $65 per week. The Web site is www.spanishcontact.com.

• Academia de Espanol Sevilla: This school has a good, free activity program, according to Lonely Planet, and students can stay in a shared house. Four hours of daily morning lessons cost $140, while four hours of afternoon classes are $85. The Web site is www.sevillantigua.com.