Jun 2008

A few weeks ago, a group of us (students at Juan Sisay) organized a trip up Volcan Santa Maria, one of many non-active volcanoes in the region, with Carlos, a local guide and friend of one of the school's teachers. The hike would commence at midnight, under the nearly full moon, and last about 5 hours. We would reach the summit in time to watch the sunrise over the western highlands of Guatemala - including Xela, multiple pueblos stretching to the Pacific Ocean, directly overlooking the smaller, but active volcano, Santiaguito. We could see as far as San Cristobal in Mexico as well.

We knew the hike would be cold. Xela is cold as it is and Saturday night was definitely no exception. Even before we left town, I was barely cozy in two layers of pants and four tops including fabulous Patagonia capilene layers!! We drove out along the bumpiest 'road' and got out of the cars at the end of the pueblo and beginning of the trail. Quickly three charming dogs joined us for our adventure. And we were off!

We couldn't have hoped for better weather. It was the first evening where the afternoon rains hadn't inundated Xela, the stars were twinkling and the moon was golden and shining bright. The hike would take about 5 hours and we proceeded cautiously and humbly....The dogs kept following us, hour after hour, and we were curious whether they'd join us the whole way....Good thing they did!!

We reached the summit at about 430am and quickly learned that it was beyond cold at the summit at 3770m. We had started our hike at about 2400m. Unfortunately, we had some time to kill before the sunrise, but Carlos took us beyond the summit to an overlook on the opposite side. We found ourselves looking down upon Santiaguito, an active volcano, and within minutes, Santiaguito was spitting flaming red lava and spewing sulphurous fumes. It was amazing and helped to distract us from the freezing temperature...

Nearing 5am the sky was getting brighter and changing to various shades of blues, yellows and oranges...Minute by minute the landscape changed as the sun rose and displayed to us the volcanic line along the western highlands...It was magnificent. And still freezing. And for those of you who know how much I hate the cold, and how I am always cold - trust me, EVERYONE was freezing!!!

At one point, I curled up beside some rocks to use as shelter and encouraged all three dogs to climb on top of me. I really learned what it meant to be a three dog night!! And I was grateful that my fuzzy friends had decided to make the trek with us!

As another saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words...Enjoy the views in my photo gallery!

My first week in Xela was educational and exciting.

Classes at Juan Sisay went well, as I began to review everything I had spent 5 years learning and 6 years forgetting! Classes run from 8am to 1pm and optional extra-curricular activities are scheduled for most afternoons and weekends.

Some highlights:

TUESDAY
Tuesday afternoon we went to a high school to speak English with the students there to provide them with an opportunity to practice their second language. The school is a technical school, so most of the boys (most of the students are boys) are training to be engineers of some sort. It was fun to speak English with them and it gave me a quick taste of what teaching English might be like...It was also a nice reprieve from practicing my Spanish all the time!

THURSDAY
Thursday afternoon we travelled to Olintepeque, a village on the outskirts of Xela, to visit Saint Pascual Bailon. A deity revered in the Mayan religion, but declared a Saint to appease the Catholic population as well....Saint Pascual Bailon is a curious thing: a miniature skeleton that was discovered in the ground (we're talking about 4 inches tall in total). Apparently it's been scientifically proven, at least by scholars from a university in Mexico, that the skeleton is indeed made of bone, and not the skeleton of any kind of animal aside from human beings...A bit hard to grasp the concept...but hey, that's religion I guess...There's a shrine inside a small church dedicated solely to Pascual Bailon. The tradition is to burn candles of various colors in order to ask Pascual Bailon for various gifts - good luck for travel, work, health, and even death. You can wish death upon someone (usually in the case that they are very ill) or pray for Pascual Bailon to guard against death. Each color candle signifies a different request. I burned a yellow one.
yellow - general well-being, particularly for women
white - health
black - death
red - love
blue - studies
light blue - travel
purple - work for prostitutes!
green - money
Once your request has been granted, you're supposed to return to the altar and dance in front of the deity.
After the visiting the Saint, we bought candies at the fair (related to the annual celebration of Pascual Bailon), played foosball and video games, and helped out some pre-med students with a survey they were taking about junk food. No doubt we skewed their data!
This picture is of the store right outside the chapel where you can purchase your candles...Of course you can notice the Pepsi refrigerator to the left!!

FRIDAY
Friday night was the weekly dinner and graduation of students at the school. We were to dress in at least one piece of traditional Guatemalan clothing....either something borrowed from a 'family member' or something we purchased. When I mentioned this 'task' to my 'mom', Lety, she got super-excited and told me I could borrow an entire outfit from our housekeeper, Miriam. That night prior to the dinner, Lety and Miriam helped me get all dressed, put makeup on me, and braided my hair. I learned that the clothing varies - in shape, color and designs - among villages and cities. There are over 300 distinct styles of dress. My clothing is from Conception Tutuapa in San Marcos. I'm wearing a cinta, or ribbon, in my hair. Other, longer cintas have 'poofballs' on the end. Worn on the right side indicates you're single, on the left, you're taken....like at home, when you wear a flower in your left or right ear. You can see women wearing outfits such as mine on a daily basis in all cities and villages in Guatemala.
....Later that night, I came home to join my family in preparing 330(!!!) tamales to take to the town fair in Olintepeque the next day.

They say that home is where the heart is.....Once I arrived in Xela - my home for the next 2-4 weeks (still TBD), I was just left wondering exactly WHERE my home indeed was....

So I arrived on the crazy chicken bus with my classmate, Erin, and headed toward what I thought was the address for my house. I had received the address information in an email from the school's coordinator. Because I was arriving on a Sunday I was to go straight to the house rather than going to the school, during the week, and then being escorted to my host family.

Erin showed me the way to my house, which I was told was across the street from the school. But, of course, when we got to the block, neither one of us could locate the exact address I had been given. Oh the joys of traveling! So I was off to the Internet cafe to check my email, double check the address and try again! It was 3pm on Sunday and if things didn't work out I'd get a hostel room for the night and figure things out at the school on Monday.

Well, when I checked my email, it turned out I had indeed written down the correct address, the address that didn't seem to exist, so what was I to do? I thought maybe it was a typo in the email...maybe the address wasn't 25...maybe it was 45, 55, 65...So I hit the pavement again and I realized that 65 was located directly across from the school. A ha! Maybe this is it...I knocked on the door with luckily enough Spanish under my belt to communicate my situation to the young man that answered the door. I was to go to the house of Miriam Alonzo, and told him this. He said that Miriam lived in his house; he seemed to know what he was talking about; and after having me wait outside for about 5 minutes, the door swung open and he invited me in.

He told me that they hadn't been informed I was coming - and I figured if I had received a wrong address, it was also completely possible that someone at the school had dropped the ball in informing them about my early arrival. But I was shown to my room. A lovely aparment-like room with private entrance in the back area of the house. A bed, a desk, a couch, and even plenty of open floor space for yoga!!!

The young man is named Walter, the 24-year-old son of the couple that apparently was away for the day in Mexico. He showed me around the house, literally telling me that his house was my house, and I was to make myself comfortable. His parents would be returning around 7 and then we'd have dinner together. I also met Miriam...the housekeeper.

I went to my room, unpacked a bit and began to relax...The hours passed and by 8:30 I was starting to worry...Would I get dinner tonight? Should I go out and get something to eat? Will I be asleep before I even meet the owners of the home at which I'm staying?!? At about 10 minutes to 9, I hear a voice call up to me...."Hola!? Hola chica!" I opened my door to find a woman on the staircase...who quickly informed me that I was at the wrong house!

Wow. Was I ever embarrassed! But this was not just my mix-up. Walter had invited me in, fixed me up a room and given me a tour of the house...I'm still not quite sure whether something was lost in translation, or whether Walter just figured he could help me out when he realized I was a bit lost and needed to find my home. Nonetheless, the woman, Lety, told me that she'd be happy to have me stay with them (they'd hosted other students in the past; they just weren't expecting one today!) and that if I was happy I was more than welcome in their home. Hugs ensued and then dinner was quickly fixed for me at about 9pm....Off to bed after that....It had been an exhausting day of traveling and confusion, and classes started at 8am the following morning.

I was still hanging in there come Sunday morning and it was time for me to depart to Xela - my home for the next two or three weeks while I study Spanish...It was Sunday and there were no shuttles so I knew I'd be commuting via Chicken Bus.

From everything I'd read and heard, the chicken bus is the ultimate Guatemalan experience. American school buses, functioning as the country's bus arsenal, painted in various vivid colors and designs, take the locals to any and every destination around the country. They're called chicken buses because apparently you can bring on anything you want, including chickens...hence the name. What you CAN'T take on are large travellers backpacks, so they have to go on top of the bus, OUT OF SIGHT! I kept my fingers crossed and my eyes open.

Now, after having ridden on not one, not two, but three chicken buses en route to Xela, I can attest to the fact that these buses are truly the ultimate Guatemalan experience.

But first about just finding the right bus, or any bus at all....

I had been informed the bus to Xela would be leaving from El Centro at 11AM. I arrived in El Centro, near the Church to find a parade going on with marching bands and princesses tossing candies from floats, i.e. decorated truck beds...While observing the local festivities, I inquired w/ a local woman about whether or not the bus to Xela was coming at 11... She shouted to ask around and then told me something along the lines of: There was no bus to Xela, and/or something regarding the number 148....

Ten minutes past 11 and no bus in sight....BUT there was another gringa in sight, and when the parade passed, I asked her, and she said the bus was coming at 11, and I told her what I knew.....We THEN learned that the bus to Xela was indeed arriving. But was it really was was the bus to Guatemala City, and after travelling for 148 km toward Guate (the wrong way!), we could transfer to a bus heading to Xela.

Turns out the gringa, Erin, is also studying at Juan Sisay, my school in Xela, and returning after a weekend at Atitlan. What a coincidence! We were told there were buses to Xela from Pana, so we went to the dock, took a boat to Pana, only to learn what I began to suspect during the ride to Pana....

LESSON: If you're looking for a direct route, you have to be specific in what you ask about! Of course there were buses to Xela...just not going directly, of course! Of course!

We ran to catch a bus to Solola, then to Los Encuentros, and then to Xela...Now, to the experience of the bus itself....When we hopped on, I thought, what has she gotten us into?!? This bus is completely full. I learned quickly that a school bus seat "fits" three to a seat. I also learned that the chicken bus is the best full-body workout as my biceps triceps, quads, calves and glutes burned as I grasped seatbacks and pushed on seat legs and the floor to keep me secured to less than a quarter of the seat! I learned that it's better to be as crowded as possible, that way you can just lean into each other instead of having to hold yourself up! The bus will ALWAYS let people on the bus even when the ensuing situation of people-Tetris seems absolutely impossible!

After winding roads, rough rides and many transfers, I, and my bag, arrived safe and sound in Xela! And it's true, the men who work on the bus know exactly whose bag is whose. Amazing.

p.s. Kate and Brian - I noticed that my chicken bus to Xela was a BlueBird North Georgia, registered in Lafayette, Georgia!!! Always thinking of you...

p.p.s. Luckily no actual chickens, or livestock of any kind, during this trip....

On Friday, I awoke early and attended an outdoor yoga class amidst the incredible bird calls, under the shade of beautiful trees. I planned to shower and get on my way to Santiago, another lakeside village, where it was market day. Upon arriving back at my hotel, I learned that I was locked out of my room because the lock/door/something was jammed!

I went to get help from the girl working at the hotel...She came to help me but to no avail....She informed me the manager was at his other job and would return in about a half hour....Well, we waited, together, talking the whole time in Spanish and it was a great opportunity for me to practice. She asked me about Hawaii and my travels and whether I was for Obama or Hillary. Wow. Didn't think I'd hear those names for a few months (but who was I kidding?!?)

We watched television together in the office - Kirk Cameron in a cheesy, Christian-themed made-for-tv-movie w/ Spanish subtitles, CNN Espanol which was covering the flooding in Iowa, and other random stuff...When the manager finally returned, he opened the door in a jiffy....It was time to get lunch, and hopefully catch the lancha to Santiago.

Food service takes longer in some Guatemalan restaurants than in the States (no instant gratification here) so I ended up missing the boat to Santiago...BUT I did get to meet Alex, who was selling his beautiful dreamcatchers (which are extremely popular around the lake)...We chatted for a bit and once again, more practice time for me!

It was a very good thing, too, that I missed my boat to Santiago because something else was in store for me...

(WARNING: This post contains some graphic information. Proceed at your own risk.)

Well, I'm still alive and and doing well, but if you had asked me that 3 days ago, I would have had a different answer...Possibly to remind me that life comes with the good AND the bad, Montezuma's revenge hit me like the afternoon thunderstorms that pound and crash on the western highlands during the rainy season (i.e. right now...) Literally, I think it was physically the worst day of my life (which is also something to be very thankful for!)

This experience occurred soon after I returned to my hotel from lunch, so as I said in my previous post, it sure is a good thing that I didn't end up in Santiago!

As if that weren't enough for good timing, it turned out that when I attended yoga in the morning I didn't bring enough money, so I had to return to Kalyan (the guy who provides yoga classes) later in the day to pay in full...After what I know now to be the beginning of something miserable, I went to Kalyan's place to pay him.

Kalyan is from the United States, now living in San Pedro with his local, YOUNG, Guatemalan wife...As we sat and chatted about life in San Pedro and the States, he offered me some ginger tea, which I gladly accepted, as my nausea and headache were getting increasingly painful. And I mentioned this to him. Well, Kalyan knew what was going on and immediately started the healing process...1. Ginger Tea, 2. w/ 3 chopped cloves of garlic, 3. Papaya to cut the intensity of the garlic, including the seeds to kill the lombrosas in my belly, 4. Tortilla to help calm my stomach, 5. Plaintain leaf to also calm my stomach....30 minutes later, I struggled across town to my hotel room....

...and puked it all up. Que lastima!

Although my body rejected Kalyan's healing methods, I was again amazed by the series of events, such that by forgetting my money in the morning I had been led me back to Kalyan who also provided me with a lot of information about what to expect, how long I would be sick, etc.

For the next 24 hours, minutes creeped along like years and there was no light at the end of the tunnel. The only lights were the strobes at Freedom Bar, which was spewing techno beats as I lay in cold sweats, fever and misery.

Come Saturday afternoon, I KNEW I couldn't take another night near Freedom Bar if I were going to survive at all. So I used all my energy to haul myself out of bed to hunt for an available room on a Saturday night...After securing a room, I returned to my den of infirmary to pack and once again haul it, and myself, across town. On my way back, again, to my first room, to get my final belongings, I was called at by Danny - a street jewelrymaker who I'd met briefly through Henry. He invited me to sit w/ him and his friend Oscar b/c, as he so blatanly stated: "You're walking back and forth across town w/ no friends!" I was feeling increasingly better at this point and decided to cop a squat.

Danny's from Los Angeles and has lived in San Pedro for two years selling jewelry (and other things perhaps...) After chatting for awhile, Danny invited me to dinner at his place w/ a bunch of his friends. Just what I needed - a SAFE, homecooked meal! Que suerte! We went to buy groceries and then it was off to his adorable house, which he shares w/ a random French guy that speaks no Spanish!!! He's lived in San Pedro for years and speaks un poco Spanish. Amazing. He must be absolutely retarded...

Dinner was absolutely delicious but I was rather nervous b/c I had fasted all day...didn't know whether I was feeling better or just didn't have anything, literally, inside me anymore. Luckily, everything worked out fine and it was a lovely evening.

A few details about San Pedro:

One evening, a truck drove through town, announcing a death in a family and requesting and collecting donations from everyone in the community. Kids and adults came out from stores and houses to drop donations into the bowls and the truck proceeded through the streets...Pretty neat.

The women and kids in San Pedro are amazingly strong - physically and mentally, working day and night, selling pastries and fruits. I've seen little boys just 3 feet tall carrying 3 cement blocks at a time and girls the same size carrying stacks of firewood that reach above their heads! Wow.

As we exited through cloud cover to begin our initial descent into the Guatemala City airport, I looked down to lush green mountains and valleys. Brown rivers and slim roads slithered through the highlands and I wondered on which roads I would soon be traveling on my way to San Pedro la Laguna. As we landed, I glimpsed at the slums that encircled the airport and realized I had never seen in person anything like that...
The airport was surprisingly modern - glass walls and clean floors - with the English language predominant on the signs inside the airport - Restrooms, Baggage Claim, Exit...Immigration, baggage claim and customs went surprisingly smooth and fast and I suddenly found myself spit out of the airport - out into one of the most unsafe cities in Central America! As I had 2.5 hours to wait before my shuttle to San Pedro arrived, I had expected - or rather ASSUMED - I would find an ATM and at least a cafe or waiting area for me to bide my time. But that was not to be and instantly I had people shouting and approaching with shuttle and taxi offers to various cities. I politely declined, and attempting to look as un-bewildered as possible, I walked amidst the crowds loading onto buses, taxis and shuttles. I approached a woman helping a large tour group to ask whether she could recommend a place to wait, and when she turned to me, she unfolded a piece of paper in front of her chest that read "JILLIAN LEE" Ahh, serendipity! Que suerte! In minutes her son had arrived and the three of us headed to Antigua in their Jeep. In Antigua, I would transfer to a minivan shuttle that would take me to Panajachel where I would then take a lancha to San Pedro...So the trip had begun and once we departed the airport, I was filled with the sights, sounds and smells of Guatemala City. Burger King, McDonald´s, Hooters, and TONS of car dealerships lined the hectic highway, which was filled with racing vehicles and noxious diesel fumes. Lauren - They even have a Zara, here!
I arrived in Antigua - a very popular tourist destination - and learned that much of what I had previously read was true. Antigua is a bit overrated, but of course, I was only there for a few hours. It´s quaint enough w/ lots of shops and a beautiful Parque Central, and of course offers the opportunity to climb to the active Volcan Pacaya. I´d suggest Antigua as a good day trip if anything....
An hour later, after navigating my way through the narrow cobble-stoned streets of Antigua to find a bank (where security stands guard w/ shotguns and rifles at the doors!), I hopped into my minivan shuttle to Panajachel, one of the lakeside villages at Lake Atitlan, and joined a young British couple seemingly at each others´ throats about direction-giving and decision-making. Sprawling across the back seat, I relaxed and thought to myself: "Man, I´m glad I´m going solo!¨
...Oh yeah, there was also a security guard w/ a pistol stationed outside the Subway sandwich shop! Being around such high-powered weapons definitely makes me feel more unsafe than safe, but oh well...
The ride to Pana was a narrow winding path, incredibly bumpy and absolutely gorgeous. We climbed and descended through the highlands, among the lush green forests I´d seen from my plane window above just hours before...And thankfully one-half of the Brits was napping, so the ride was peaceful as well!
When we arrived at the dock (muelle) in Pana, I was met by Henry, who exclaimed "Going to San Pedro? Come on. We´re waiting on you. I rushed down the dock, on to the crowded boat where I found my seat next to my Capitan..Henry! The motor boat was covered and fit about 40 people and we headed out across the lake which was much bigger than I expected! The time was 6:30pm; it was late dusk and dark rain clouds hovered over the lakes and surrounding mountains. I couldn´t see much of the lake, or surrounding villages, but I could tell I liked this place.
Henry conversed with me in English - one of many languages he´s taught himself while working with tourists over the years. Henry is a funny young guy, with lots of energy and a love and deep pride for his hometown of San Pedro. When we arrived at San Pedro, an hour later, after making various stops around the lake, Henry helped me find a place to stay, eat, use Internet and chill at the bar. My hotel room was sweet - clean, double bed, private room w/ private bath and HOT shower, for only $5/night. Dinner was good and I was glad I could let my family know I was safe and sound.
Now, of course, I was a bit hesitant to let Henry take me under his wing, no doubt with a variety of intentions, but I kept my guard up and enjoyed getting the inside scoop by a true local. I spent a few hours at the Buddha Bar, drinking Gallo (the local beer) and hanging out with Henry and his friends. It was a great opportunity to practice my Spanish (mainly listening)...but the guys also spoke Tutuhil, the beautiful local Mayan dialect of several of the villages of Lake Atitlan. Interestingly, some of the other villages speak an entirely different Mayan dialect - and they are within a few miles of each other! Tutuhil incorporates a lot of "sh" sounds and delicate gutteral clicking that would take awhile to master...It was also funny to listen to Bob Marley, hip hop, and Reggaeton, ¨blasting¨from Henry´s phone! I also got a few lessons about Mr. T quotes! Imagine, learning about American pop culture from a bunch of young Guatemalans...They also invited me to join them on Saturday night, when they venture to Guatemala City to go to a rave....thanks, but no thanks.
In the bathroom, at the bar, there was a sign that read "The Karma gods are watching. Please put it in the trash" accompanied by an image of a figure on a toilet seat, hand reached out dropping toilet paper (?!?) into the trash can. Am I supposed to put my toilet paper in the trash, rather than flushing?!? ...Well, at this point, that´s how I understand things...Interesting.
...When I arrived back in my hotel room, I learned that my room was filled with the throbbing beats, electronic melodies and shouts and whoops of humans partying it up at Freedom Bar, just steps from my room....I think I¨ll spend some time today hunting for a new hotel! In spite of the noise, I had no trouble getting to sleep and in the morning I awoke and stepped out on my balcony to the most beautiful view of the lake (I´ll upload pics later...) The mountains are gorgeous and remind me so much of the beautiful Koolau range on Oahu - so I kind of feel right at home!! I had breakfast on the lanai of a restaurant overlooking the lake, as other tourists watched Croatia beating Germany in futbol on the TV inside the restaurant...Breakfast: Spanish Torta with plantains, creamy white cheese, black beans, and tortilla, and COFFEE!!! Delicious local coffee that grows on trees all around town. Right now the trees bear their young, unripe green berries. I´m off to explore more of the town and I´m sure I´ll have more to write about as soon as I step out of the door!

If the journey is the destination, then I´ve indeed arrived!

p.s. Emilia - I found you a cute, adorable puppy!!! Actually, I´ve found everyone a cute, adorable puppy as there are tons of stray dogs roaming around town....

After dreaming and scheming for months, I'm just hours from departing on my adventures in Central and South America...and I can't wait!

I originally conceived of this trip as a one-month Spanish-language immersion program in Cuba and then went on to envision and plan a six-month journey that reaches from Guatemala to Chile! In the end, or at least at this point, I've decided to postpone my visit to Cuba...but I look forward to getting there in the future...

Well, I hope I can provide at least a few moments of entertainment, laughter, and relief as I keep in touch through this blog...Be sure to keep in touch as well, and send me your mailing address if you haven't yet.

Love.