Central America 2005

Continued from Page 1

Ray and I said goodbye to our family and took the chicken bus to Panajachel on Lake Atitlan, a 2-1/2 hour ride away. After quiet Xela, Panajachel, nicknamed Pana or Gringotenango, was a busy tourist destination. The 1/2 km street leading down to the lake was lined with stalls selling textiles, clothing and other souvenirs. There were so many we wondered how any of them made a living, especially as each booth is demolished at night and all merchandise boxed and hauled away until the next morning.

The lake itself is large and beautiful, the blue waters surrounded by volcanoes. There is a large beach at Pana but it did not tempt us. The water was cool and we weren't sure of the cleanliness so near town. Beside the handicraft stalls, the streets in town and along the lake are lined with good, inexpensive restaurants and there are many hotels and hostals to choose from. We didn't like our first choice so we found a better one, for the same price, with a nice outside patio with chairs and tables to relax in.

Our first night in Pana we met a trio of middle aged American who had recently spent up to two years working with the Peace Corps in El Salvador. They were all amateur musicians; Lucian Parker played a mean Kentucky fiddle, Bonnie James also played the violin and her husband Ed played guitar. They had made a name for themselves during their work term volunteering their talents entertainin g locals with traditional American folk music. They were back together this time just touring places they missed the first time. They gave us lots of suggestion of places to visit. They had their instruments with them and after dinner together and a visit to a local bar, featuring an Irish Folk band from Vermont, we were treated to a session of their music. It was simple and fun.

There are several other small towns surrounding the lake. We visited several of them on day trips. We walked to Santa Catarina Palopo, 5 km up and down a hot road. We had lemonade by the lake and toured the town in short order, ignoring the sales pitches of the local handicraft vendors. I didn't look forward to walking back in the sun so we elected to take a Colectivo, a pickup truck with benches running down both sides of the box. The driver said he would leave when enough people showed up to constitute a load. He indicated that might be five minutes or half an hour so we agreed to the charge of Q2 each and waited and waited some more. After 45 minutes and a total of 5 adults and one child, I asked the driver how many more he needed before leaving. He told me five more so I offered to up our payment to get him started. We agreed on Q10 for the two of us and we finally got on our way. That is how Colectivos work.

The next day we went down to the docks, really just rickety wooden structures, to get on a boat for Santiago Atitlan. There was a choice of small motor boats carrying about 20 passengers or a slightly larger boat for 50 or more. We got a return ticket on the larger one that left at 9:30, we were informed. Once again we waited for more passengers to appear while other smaller boats took off fully loaded. Finally we were asked to change to a smaller boat and 45 minutes late, we took off across the lake. Once more we learn the reality of public transportation. At least it was a quick 1/2 hour trip in the small boat.

Santiago Atitlan was a smaller, dustier version of Pana with a lively market in operation. It was jammed with local Mayas all in their traditional clothing. We sat in the town plaza and watched all the locals do their shopping and lounge in the sun. Next to the town plaza is a huge church built in the 18th century. Weird wooden figures of the saints line both sides of the church, each draped in an assortment of handmade clothes. Each gets a new set of clothing every year. One looked like Elvis in his outfit and under the feet of three others could be seen an object. I am not up on my saints so I cannot really tell who they were supposed to represent. One woman stood on a severed head; another had a skull under one foot and a cannon ball under the other. The third had a demon peering out from a foot.

When it was time to return to Pana we looked for the same boat firm that took us over. The larger boat arrived and we got in wondering how long we would have to wait. Luckily it was only 20 minutes late and left with only 5 passengers. The larger boat is slower and since the captain was not busy, he came to chat with us and point out all features around the lake. He was very patient with my Spanish and he got to practice his English with Ray.

Another day we took a small boat to San Pedro La Laguna, a quieter more laid back town. We met a young Winnipeg girl we had first encountered at Fuentes Georgina outside Xela. She was staying in San Pedro, taking Spanish at one of the local schools. Her class was involved in an activity cleaning up the refuse on the main street. We told them Santiago really needed their help more than San Pedro. Several of the students were accompanied by children from a local home for the disabled. Many of the Spanish schools in Guatemala try to involve their students in projects that help the community. Our friend recommended two good restaurants in town that we finally located by following twisting back alleys that serve for streets in San Pedro. We had lemonade in one garden patio then wandered through more alleys past a coffee processing plant. The coffee is grown locally and trucked to these primitive operations where the soft outside coverings are removed, the beans are repeatedly washed in concrete sluices and the wet beans are bagged. The beans are then spread on the ground in front of neighbouring houses to dry and cure in the sun. We bought a bag of the roasted beans to send home.

We found the second recommended restaurant, Munchies and choose a seat on one of the grassy terraces overlooking the lake. We chatted to our Scottish waiter who had arrived in San Pedro and like many others, decided to linger. T hey were advertising for another waiter so I suggested to Ray that we stay for the week. I could take more Spanish lessons and he could work at Munchies. He didn\rquote t take me seriously enough!

We talked to a young American girl having lunch there and she recommended visiting San Marco, further along the lake. It sounded like a good detour so after lunch we grabbed a boat heading for San Marcos La Laguna and toured the community. Some believe it has a special spiritual vibe so new age centers abound. Holistic therapy, yoga, massage, Reiki and meditation centers are found in lovely garden settings. If peace and quiet is what you are after, this is the place.

Thursday and Sunday are market days in Chichicastenango (Chichi) an hour over the hills from Pana. It is the largest combination handicraft and local market in the area and attracts lots of tourists, including us. We opted for a shuttle bus and arrived at 9 AM while most of the market was in full swing. As advertised it was huge. A traditional market and food section was surrounded by booth after booth of handicrafts. I added to my textile collection and bought some other souvenirs as well.

Two large, white churches brace the market area, both fronted by broad, steep steps, in the manner of Mayan pyramids. These are favourite spots for locals to gather and say prayers before entering the church. Men outside have charcoal fires going to load smudge pots which the locals wave around ceremoniously. Inside flower petal strewn concrete blocks on the floor hold clumps of burning candles. The candles are lit in commemoration of ancestors many of whom are buried beneath the church.

When we got tired of walking around the market we retired to the elegant Mayan Inn to have a coffee in their quiet lounge. We were entertained by a local Maya playing a xylophone with gourds hanging from the sound boards for resonance. We were surprised others had not discovered this gem as we were the only people there. The relatively high price of Q9 (just over $1) was worth it.

As soon as we returned to Pana we arranged to mail home all our purchases. We found a cardboard box on the street and packaged up the multitude of textiles and other purchases and took it to the local post office. We paid Q2 to have the box covered in brown paper, filled in the forms, had the box weighed in at just under 6 Kilos and paid more than $50 to send it off. We were told it only takes 8 to 10 days so it will be interesting to find out when it actually arrives. Anyway, we have completed our souvenir buying for Central America. That is unless there is something we see that is just begging to be purchased.

Now we are back in Antigua, after another crowded chicken bus ride, complete with squealing pig on top. About a half way to Antigua we were stopped by a roadside police check. All the men were ordered out of the bus and everyone, except Ray was frisked. I guessed they were looking for weapons or drugs. In any case nothing was found. The men squished back on the bus and we continued on our way.

That afternoon we met with the local tourist police to take advantage of a free guided tour. The police sponsor these tours because of past problems with robberies in the more remote areas around town. We had two young people to guide the two of us to the local cemetery. The cemeteries in Guatemala follow the Spanish tradition of large above ground graves. There was a combination of expensive family crypts and walls of more simple graves. In Chichi the graves are painted all manner of colours but in Antigua all are wh ite. The cemetery we visited in Buenos Aires was more ornate, but this was a peaceful and pretty spot.

Family Crypt

view back to Antigua

While I was writing this morning, Ray went on another tourist police guided tour to a cross on a hill above town. A paved path leads to a perfect viewpoint of Antigua and Volcan Acatenango to the west. Again two guides led ten tourists to the cross where additional armed guards keep the peace. Armed guards are a fact of life in Guatemala. Every large delivery truck has an armed guard and banks have two each. It does seem to be keeping the crime rate down.

We had returned to Antigua to make arrangements to take a shuttle bus to see Mayan ruins in the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Copan just over the border in Honduras. We leave at the ungodly hour of 4 AM Sunday morning and will stay in Copan two nights before heading back to Guatemala and northwards to Belize.

So ends the first two weeks of our travels along the Gringo Trail of Central America. Despite little problems we are doing well and enjoying ourselv es. We have lots of suggestion of other places to visit before we fly home from Panama April 20. We look forward to them all.

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