Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Deep Thoughts and Random Pictures


I'm a little disappointed we didn't fall in love with Guatemala.  Had lots of good talks about the hardships here and what we could tolerate and what we're looking for in a place to retire.  Guatemala has an abundance of natural beauty but a dearth of basic infrastructure.
This has nothing to do with the above, but is a beautiful work of art by Pablo Swezey:


Most people come here for altruism, not tourism.  They come dressed up in camo or khaki, with a Jesus something or other on their lapel, hat or bag.  Other than one group of birders, mission trippers were all we saw. However, the beautiful local girls dress like this:


I've come to dislike the homogenized America: a Walgreens and a Walmart on every corner of every town in every state. That said, I know there are certain advantages to standardized signage and evident branding that I take  for granted when I'm in the USA.  When you give up standardization, you get a feast of little stores but it seems chaotic and hard to navigate. What might Tienda Sandrita sell?  Tienda Emmanuel or Tienda Ebeneezer, who will have ice? Not better, just different.  One would get used to it, but at the outset it's hard to tell what's what. Digging through the freezer section of Tienda Ebeneezer is a bit like paleontology, I imagine.


Poverty here is crushing, but unlike India, the people here have sad, worried faces.  Very little freestyle joy flowing around Guatemala.  Except with this lady:


Of the two,  we would choose a Catholic nation over a Muslim nation.   Most people here are serious about their faith and even the poorest of the poor tithe weekly.  I sat in four different churches and was always surrounded by a low murmur of people praying.  It's a crazy mixture of big time religion and ancient indigenous beliefs here, but it works.

I asked Ev what his thoughts were about what we were trying to accomplish by moving to a foreign country.  Why do we leave almost every vacation longing and scheming about how we could move "there". Naturally, it's the vacation state of mind, but it's more for us.  

I have feelings but they haven't crystallized into thoughts and words.  Getting away from and moving towards.  I want to be of service and I feel called to work with literacy and ESL.  I want to be surrounded by gratitude, not entitlement.  Needs are greater outside the US.   Tired of being associated with the greed, consumerism and "police of the world" attitude we have in our country.  Looking for a simpler, slower pace with a closer horizon.  It's been heaven not knowing a thing about the "news" for ten days.  Don't want to be sucked in to the medical industrial complex in the US.  Those were all themes that kept popping up as we drove and talked.  

Maybe it's something as simple as wanting the adventure of experiencing a life out of the United States.

After ten days in smallish towns surrounded by women in long skirts and loose huipils, I was shocked to note I was shocked when we came back into Guatemala City and saw tight pants, short skirts and exposed skin.  I did double takes at men in their unders on the billboards.  Taken aback at the traffic, noise and filth.  Weird.  After just ten days.  

Signing off for now, but the story will continue in 4 short days.  Headed to Guadalajara.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Semuk Champey

It's hard to describe what we did today.  I thought about how I could put it into words the entire drive back to the hotel.

First of all, let me say mistakes were made three months ago when I was planning this trip.  By the map I ordered, it looked like we were going to be able to land in a resting spot and use our days to zip here and there to see the sights.  No zipping in this country.  As a result of yo no se que, the infrastructure here is in a pretty sorry state, mainly evidenced by the deterioration of the roads.  I thought our hotel was centrally located and it would be a short little drive up to see the gemstone of Guatemala in all it's glory.  As it was, it was a 12 hour adventure.

Secondly, it rained last night.  ALL night. 'nuff said.

We drove north through countryside that got more beautiful at every turn.  Surprisingly, the dress code for this part of the country is quite subdued.  The skirts are ankle length and  full, pleated on a waistband. The huipils have turned to lacy polyester overshirts-same shape, but made of heavy lace.  Very pretty and I don't have a single picture.  I do have this, though:
Can you believe that?  Click on it.
We made it to the town of Lanquin, the jumping off point to get to Semuk.  As we drove slowly through town, young boys chased after us telling us our car wouldn't make it, however, they could offer us "for a special price" yadda yadda yadda.  We plodded on, Ev had seen recent ride reports on ADV Rider and assured me we could make it.  We picked up a hitchhiker who assured us we would be fine.  The road was way steep.  Way steep.  We crawled past a series of 5 4x4 pick up trucks stopped on the side of the road-a convention perhaps?  Um, no.  We rounded the corner into the steepest, stickiest, muddiest mess you have ever seen, all partially blocked by a backhoe.  Oh! is THAT what they were saying?

Unfortunately we rooster tailed mud onto the vehicles behind us and had to back slowly down the hill to cheers and cat-calling from the stopped truck drivers.  We ate a sleeve of Emperadors...
And considered our options:
We ended up parking the car on a cliff edge and climbing into the back of one of the pick up trucks.  We rode with the locals up to Semuk.  The young men were really giving Ev shit until I said (in a mentally practiced Spanish sentence so it would come out perfect) "One day you, too, will be 62 years old and I hope you have the same cojones to try anything like my man will."  Little did I know...

Once we got up to the park, we hooked up with a young earnest guide named 'Nando who told me he was an orphan and later told Ev he was on the phone with his sick father.  mmm-hmmm  It was wet and slippery, I was feeling chilled (in fact left my bathing suit in the car an hour away).  We started climbing up to the mirador and I knew right away it was dangerous for me.  Ev, however, sprinted up in his flip flops.
These are beautiful natural turquoise colored springs, slightly muddied by the recent rains.
And this is our invincible young guide, 'Nando, who asked me to post this photo on his facebook page.  I hope he's still alive when I do.

The thing that makes this site extraordinary is that a river meets the springs, disappears under the springs and comes out on the other side of the springs.  What a stroke of good fortune it doesn't pollute the springs.  Because of the rain, it was raging.  You could not believe the sound this thing made:
Our young friend tried to convince me it would be OK to strip down to my unders and go for a swim in the pools, descending until we saw where the river came out.  I declined, so he offered me his shorts.  "Expandable elastic", said he.  No thanks, watching is good.  So he shepherded  Ev out into the pools and convinced him it would be a great idea to scale the edge and swan dive in.  Lordie, lordie.

When they emerge, Ev realizes Nando had done a cannonball.  With sign language, he is lecturing our young friend on the fine art of the swan dive.  Be still, my beating heart.

While they paddled downstream and again upstream, I sat and contemplated the beauty around me:
Once more, we got home after dark, disobeying our number one rule.  BUT we had a fresh oven baked pizza with real pepperoni for dinner on the way home. Bonus!

I have a fever and the runs.


Thursday, March 6, 2014

Stuck Close to Home

Took a little hike to see this:
We went with Ernesto, the hotel gardener who makes 32Q a day.  That's around 4 dollars.  He was very patient and extremely nice.
And ended up here:
I also played with the macro setting on my camera.  The bees here wallow in the flowers like Sophie did when she came upon a cow patty.  Never seen anything like it.
This unfurling fern frond is bigger than my fist:
Volunteer bromeliads and orchids are everywhere:
Well, dang.  That was a centipede.  Internet too slow to correct my mistake.  Tomorrow we go to Semuk Champey!







We arrive to hold down the patio for three days.

This morning, the cleaning ladies were sweeping up the detritus from the cascarones and  firecrackers.  Before we got up, Ev predicted the entire town would be somber and hungover.  Not so!

Our hotel kitchen was humming with laughter and giggling from this bunch:


Frying heaps of empanadas.  A fiesta? Si! Un dia especial? Si!  Que dia es?  Miercoles! um, OK!  Good enough reason as any to cook up enormous mounds of empanadas.  She shared three with me for the car trip.  We ate the middles and threw the ends out to deserving street dogs.  By the way, we've determined there are two types of dogs in Guate:  ones that have been hit by a car and ones that have yet to be hit by a car.  Sad sitch here for the canines.
We were on one highway today.  From the map I determined it would take us about 1.5 hours to get to our destination.  This is a smattering of what the road looked like at various points along the way.
It started out good:


 Then there was this beauty:

And it deteriorated to this for quite a few miles.

Mr Toad's wild ride.  All marked the same (a double red line) on the map.  A good time was had by all.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

We were up, we were down.

Yesterday we were in no hurry to leave our hotel.  We had a nice long steam and dawdled the morning away.  We had nowhere to go and all day to get there, or so it seemed.  Evdad has always wanted to travel this way, just go and see where the road leads us.  Me?  I'm all about the planning with days of free time in between reservations.  The man has to learn sometime-why not now?

We left Zunil headed north, I'd read about a little town that had a circus church on the square and was also the thread-dying capital of the state.  Guidebook promised trees and bushes draped with drying skeins of wool and cotton.  Every detour off the main road costs us about thirty minutes of "andamos perdidos, adonde esta...(insert whatever small town or sight you want here)" so I choose carefully. The trouble is, the people we're asking WANT to help, but in general have only ever traveled from their home to the market and to the church.  In their desire to be helpful, they make something up. We've become more shrewd about knowing who to ask (Coke deliverymen know a lot).  Since Ev is focused on the face rather than the words he can tell right away if  our would be help is venturing off into a fantasy instruction.  He's always polite, let's them finish and rolls up the window before muttering, "that guy doesn't know jack shit"

We found the clown church but no bushes draped with thread.  No vale la pena.


The next little village I wanted to stop in was Totonicapan, a place know for its craftsmen.  There is no such thing as a relief route in Guatemala.  Every road dumps you smack dab in to the middle of town where there is the parque and of course the church.  Toto was bustling and we saw an inordinate number of children still dressed in their pajamas which was puzzling.  We took a walkabout and settled on a bench to watch the peoples.  I had my fortune told by a canary (my husband adores me, I'm coming into an inheritance soon, and I'm destined to sleep in a dive tonight)

There was cascaron throwing, lots of merrymaking, a band playing.  Just a beehive of activity. (Dress code here was pink and purple).  Turns out it was Fat Tuesday and all the kids that I thought were in pajamas were in costumes:  Spider-Man, tigger, superman, hello kitty, you name it.  And all headed to the community auditorium to dance.  We declined an invitation and got on the road again.
This is the kind of shopping to be done on my vacation.  Those of you that wanted coffee and jade, I'm sorry.  I can only offer you cascarones and plastic masks.



All afternoon we were up in the cloud forest, down in cactusville, back up again in banana country and farther up into the clouds.  In to towns with no hotels or full hotels so we kept driving and I kept watching the sun angle get lower and lower.

We finally landed in Uspantan on a Fat Tuesday evening with fireworks going off all around.  The hotel was grande only because we could pull the car off of the busy street and into this lovely courtyard.

And a Gaudiesque upper deck like this:
And plants like these.
That was as good as it got.  Teensy bed, panqueque pillows and a floor Muy Resbaloso!

Monday, March 3, 2014

"Will it make me sweat? Will it make me wet?" Thanks, James Brown!

We picked this little town, Zunil because it is in the most volcano-ey state in the nation with many active fissures and natural hot springs.  It's high (over 6000 ft), and because of the volcanic soil and ample rain the small farm business is booming.  When we drove in yesterday afternoon, clouds descended on us so it was cool and moist.  Today we learned that happens every day, but yesterday was cloudier than usual.  Windy, too.

 When we left Chichicastenango yesterday, this is what the farmland looked like:
And then there was this.  What the heck?
We left our hotel after breakfast this morning and headed in to town.  I wanted to see the church.  Mass was being said so it was a little awkward, besides, there were fireworks and marimbas playing on the plaza outside-much more entertaining.

Today was not Big Market Day so it was relatively quiet.  We saw fava beans and beautiful girls.
And a completely different dress code as is the case for every village we've been in.

 After a quick look around and a couple of bean purchases, we headed up a lush road where every square inch was growing something delicious, sometimes right up to the edge of the road.

We arrived at the hot springs, it was pretty quiet and the water was HOT.  We'd whiffed an occasional sulfur smell on the way up, Ev was laughing about how Pop always said "that doesn't stink, that smells like money!"  The water at the springs wasn't sulfurous at all but it was definitely "amargo" bitter or sour.
This is what it looked like when we arrived, and that is my trusty chauffeur getting ready to turn his skin bright pink.
We met four lovely 20-somethings: 2 backpacking Quebecois secessionists and 2 Guatemaltecos they'd met in the city.  We chatted the afternoon away talking about the indigenous population in this country, mining, education for physicians, how best to travel, where to retire,  malignant moles and the size of carrots in Guatemala.  They asked for a ride back in to town and we were happy oblige.  By the time we left, the afternoon clouds had rolled in; it was steamy, dreamy and wonderful.

We're in a room with 2 dbl beds so we slept apart last night and nearly froze our tushes off.  Tonight we'll pile in together and try to keep warm. 

Tomorrow is a travel day, mom, so don't worry if you don't hear from us.  We aren't going far and you never know what the internet sitch will be.

  
 





Tumulos


Tumulos or topes as they are called in Mexico are small concrete hot dogs that lay across the road intended to make your life miserable if you're driving a little shit box.  Which we are.  On the way to Chichicastenango yesterday, we scraped the tops off of at least half a dozen tumulos which made me rethink our plans to drive up to the remote areas of the state of Quiche as originally planned.  Plus I was rethinking my gusto for a nineteen dollar a night hotel.  I tend to forget from time to time how I detest sleeping on a plastic covered mattress without mattress pad.

The Sunday market in Chichicastenango is the biggest in the nation.  I knew it was going to be a rough day for Evdad and gave him plenty of warning.  It was insane.  Traffic, the peoples, the sounds and the smells were overwhelming.  We found a place to leave the car, fought off several tour guides and off we went.  I just wanted to see and feel and hear.   I didn't want the added burden of having to listen.




It was a sensory feast.  We let ourselves be pushed along by  a river of short brightly festooned women going about the serious business of provisioning their homes.

When we arrived back to the parking lot we discovered our car was blocked by four cars and a pick up truck.  That's us on the far side of the van. They were moved expertly by the young attendants, Ev threaded the needle and got our car out.  As quick as we could, we got out of the city and pulled off on a scenic overlook to consult the map.


 Decided on Zunil.  This is the ceiling in our room, and all that that implies.
However, thirty steps from our room is a small building you can lock yourself in.  You tug something akin to a manhole cover off of a hole in the floor, and out comes steam directly from the bowels of the earth.  You can stay in there as long as long as you want.  Woot!