|
 August
15, 2004
Exchange rate: $1 = about 8 Quetzales
Hola amigos:
For many a visitor to Guatemala the most powerful lasting image is that of spectacular Lago de Atitlán.
A collapsed volcanic cone filled with glittering water to a depth of 320m, it's surrounded by three towering volcanoes:
Volcán Tolimán (3158m), Volcán Atitlán (3158m) and Volcán San Pedro (3020m).
The lake itself sits at an elevation of 1650m, and is ringed by about a dozen villages where the traditional customs
and values of Guatemala's indigenous Maya are prevalent. Different visitors have different experiences, of course,
but virtually all leave agreeing that it's a very special place!
Atitlán was my first destination in Guatemala and I anticipated staying there for a few days, at most. I
ended up not leaving until after fifteen nights - spread out over three different villages. (In all, I've spent
19 nights there.) I arrived at Lago de Atitlán via shuttle bus from San Cristóbal de la Casas in
the Chiapas region of Mexico with all my belongings: a very large bag and two smaller ones. The company I made
use of was Tolimán Travel (which I highly recommend) and they were kind enough to store at no charge everything
but a small backpack, which I kept for additional traveling. They're located in both San Cristóbal and Panajachel
and it was in the latter village that I initially stayed at. Six days after I showed up the lake, my son Matt joined
me. He'd flown into Guatemala City and immediately made his way from there by bus.
Panajachel is the first stop for almost everyone who arrives at the lake and it's loaded with gringos (a word historically
indicating Americans, but used by Latin Americans to refer to all Westerners). Their presence so impacts the town
that 99% of everything on its main street, Calle Santander, is there solely because of them. The overwhelming theme
as you're strolling around is Spend Money. This motif dominates and has permanently altered Panajachel's essential
character, and the fact that vendors are allowed by law to roam the streets with their wares means that it's hard
to get a moment's peace while navigating or even while sitting in restaurants or cafes. Call me a selfish bastard
but I think I'm entitled to eat and converse in peace without one stranger after another trudging up to my table
every three minutes (no exaggeration!), sticking something in my face and asking me to buy it. It gets old really
fast.
But when it comes to shopping, it is sometimes very challenging to resist what's being offered. Whether it's clothing,
bags, hammocks, masks, jewelry or other miscellaneous items the overall craftsmanship and selection is superb.
The colors and designs in Guatemalan materials are certainly distinctive and the cost is what you might expect
here, which is to say dirt-cheap. But take your time and price shop first before buying, find out what you should
be paying, and then don't hesitate to bargain hard. My approach is to make what I feel is a fair offer and then
be willing to walk away. If the vendors are letting you get away, then be assured that the best price that they've
countered with is a good deal - for both parties involved. Since Matt invested substantially for resale in the
U.S. and tirelessly negotiated all over the country, I can confidently state that Panajachel is the best place
in Guatemala to buy traditional clothing and crafts. And that's not just my opinion.
Another bonus is that if you've been traveling around Mexico or Central America for a while Pana, as it's known,
provides a few amenities seldom found elsewhere. We can thank the gringo transplants for that as they're the ones
who've opened up the vegetarian restaurants (check out the Bombay Café), the herb and health food stores,
plus coffee shops that serve something other than dreadful watery Nescafe. Despite the fact that Guatemala is a
major coffee producing country, it's tough to get a quality mug of joe 'cause the good stuff is exported. So… if
you're a hardcore java junkie it's worth the effort to locate Crossroads Café, as Mike imports from all
over the world and takes immense pride in what he brews up.
Regarding accommodation, I can recommend Hospedaje Mi Chosita on Calle 14 de Febrero where Matt and I only paid
Q32 total for a double and liked it enough to go back again when we returned to the lake.
After two nights in Pana, I caught a lancha (ferry) across the lake to San Pedro. Don't be misled by the term ferry,
as these are merely small, partially covered, simple wooden crafts with outboard motors on them that hold at best
twenty passengers. The ride to San Pedro is Q15, takes about 45 minutes, and can either be a soothing glide across
a glistening mirror of glass, or a hell of a bumpy wet ride. Atitlán can get considerably choppy, especially
in the afternoon.
San Pedro (population 11,000) is the second most visited village on the lake and has a multi-faceted character.
I much preferred it to Pana as it felt substantially more like an authentic community. It's perched on a steep
hill so you'll get to build up your legs and cardio capacity if you march around it enough. There are about two
dozen Spanish language schools where you can study one-on-one while either staying in a hotel or a home stay, and
the cost runs about $110 to $120/week with a family, all meals included.
For some visitors to San Pedro, arriving is a prime opportunity to score some recreational drugs since they're
easily available soon after stepping on to the dock and are often consumed openly in public. Evidently many years
ago the Hippy Wagon made a wicked sharp turn in San Pedro, because a bunch of them surely toppled off and are still
hanging out. Each has found his or her way to keep themselves fed and under a roof with an odd job, jewelry making,
or by some other means.
While eating at The Alegre Pub one night I met one of them, a guy about my age named Bob. Bearing a strong resemblance
to the guys in ZZ Top, he was quick to introduce himself and after hearing that he'd been there about eight years,
I asked him how he supported himself. Peering at me with massively dilated pupils he candidly replied, "This
and that, but mostly I deal weed and mushrooms.... want any?"
There are a handful of bar/restaurants featuring rock music, large-screen TVs and rowdy crowds, so if that's your
scene then San Pedro will fill the bill for you. Matt and I opted for a more tranquil alternative and if that's
your preference two restaurants I can recommend are Luna Azul and Zoola. The first is a short walk out of town
along a narrow path through some cornfields - keep your eyes open for the Native American style teepees, a unique
accommodation possibility. Run by a Dutch expat, the tasty food, prime view over the lake and low-key ambiance
were to our liking. During the summer solstice, they hosted a weekend shindig with everything from Brazilian music
to herb walks to Mayan prayer circles lead by local shamans.
Zoola is also off the beaten track, tucked away in lush gardens fairly near the beach. To get there you follow
a wandering dirt path that connects the two docks, but you'll still probably need to ask directions since it's
complicated. But you'll want to check this place out, particularly if you're not into just pizza, burgers and beer.
Some very proud but amiable Israelis run it and their mission is healthy, vegetarian cuisine with a laidback but
fun atmosphere. The food is first rate and their hot chocolate stands up to all the lofty praise they bestow upon
it. However, be aware that they have no qualms about not opening on any day in particular if the mood strikes them.
I stayed at the Hotel San Francisco in a spectacularly situated room (#3) overlooking the lake (with private bath/hot
water) for Q40/night. When my son Matt arrived it only increased to Q50 and we hung on to that room for eight nights.
Up the hill from there is the main town square and its traditional market, while down the hill on the right is
a terrific, inexpensive internet spot. It's not too far from one of the docks. From any hotel you can arrange canoeing
(which they call kayaking) or guided hiking or horseback riding, which you can also set up just by strolling to
the docks yourself.
One morning, bright and early, I did a hike with two Canadian gals who were in the room next to me. I paid Q25
for my share of the guide. Our destination was near the top of Volcán San Pedro and our path was a steady
climb past small residences and tiny patches of corn, coffee and other various crops. Jose would elaborate on plants
and sundry points of interest and nearly two hours later we reached a brilliant vantage point over Atitlán
and its surroundings. I stripped off my sweat-soaked shirt to let the cool breeze dry it out while I wolfed down
some fresh pineapple I'd brought along. That panorama's deeply etched away forever somewhere in my brain.
A couple of days later Matt got in on a horseback ride with the same two women, which I had to decline. Back in
April, I was lying in my Indonesian-bought hammock on my patio when it broke in half, dropping me to the bricks
and breaking my tailbone. This is not a fast healing part of the body and I've endured significant pain at times
since then, especially while and after long bus rides - something I've done a lot of over the last few weeks -
often on hard seats over roads that barely resemble roads. My point in bringing this up is that bouncing up and
down on a horse would not have been a whole lot of laughs!
A few hours later Matt and the gals returned and when I asked him how it went he smiled and said, "Great,
aaah… well… interesting. Actually I got robbed." It seems that not far from the summit the guide and three
riders dismounted and walked higher up for a better view, and then later started their descent. Matt lagged behind
a bit to relieve himself, and while he was taking care of business a man approached him wearing a mask and brandishing
a huge machete.
For practical reasons machetes are standard equipment in rural Guatemala and you always see men carrying them around
with them, but the mask was a different story, of course. Then the guy lifted his shirt to display a gun tucked
into his pants and demanded Matt's daypack, which he wisely relinquished. Then the thief reached towards Matt's
shirt, knowing that under it is exactly where most tourists carry some type of travel wallet. Matt had unnecessarily
and foolishly brought his with him, but he also had a second wallet in his pocket containing a small amount of
cash - a practice many travelers, including myself, often follow.
It was then that Matt made a very smart move. Before the guy could detect his other more valuable wallet, Matt
pulled out the small one, threw it on the ground and took off running, loudly yelling, "Robo! Robo!"
Thus alerted, the others also bolted and there were no further problems. Fortunately his loss was minimal: a cheap
camera and wooden flute and the equivalent of less than $10 in cash. And of course, he was not injured… the most
important matter! Afterwards, he was calm and philosophical about it, commenting on how bad off loads of these
people are, an indisputable statement if not a justification for armed robbery.
You need to know that if you come to Guatemala it's not always safe - in fact, it may be the most dangerous country
in Central America. The country is only eight years removed from 36 years (!) of bloody civil war and guns are
still prevalent, though seldom seen - except on security guards. I reckon that private security may be the number
one industry in this country since almost every sizable business, certainly any involving notable finance, has
at least one dude in a shiny uniform toting a nasty looking shotgun… finger poised on the trigger. Many, many people
are very poor, lawlessness and violence was and sometimes still is a part of life, and the much richer tourist
(which includes backpackers) is an inviting target.
Robberies are especially common around Lago de Atitlán. I spoke with a sizable number of others who'd been
robbed while walking between villages. It was usually the same story: one or more men approached them with machetes,
demanded money and then left them alone once getting it. I've never heard of any violent occurrences. In fact,
I spoke with two women who were robbed while walking the road between villages in broad daylight and after their
money was taken (again a small amount), the two thieves politely thanked them. Chalk up one courtesy point for
the banditos!
Outside of Guatemala City (where about six people a day get murdered, almost exclusively locals) there's little
danger within the villages and cities here. If you do go for walks outside of town, which is where the problems
occur, do not bring anything valuable and if confronted the best thing to do is to throw your money at them and
run like hell. Pickpockets are also clearly a problem and lurk in markets and bus stations - but that's a subject
we'll get into more later on. And let's remember that if you want to play it completely safe in life then the best
option is to never leave your house, but you knew that already.
Spanish is the second language for most residents of the Atitlán area, as Mayan dialects are the primary
means of communication amongst the locals. For someone like myself who's learning Spanish, this is an asset since
the people speak more slowly and are much easier to understand. Keep in mind that the term Mayan is a broad classification
of many groups, so not all the indigenous groups speak the same dialect… it varies around the country and even
from village to village on the lake.
Most of the women wear the traditional clothing, the huipil, a long woven tunic that is embroidered with an astonishing
array of colors and designs. There is really no way for me to sufficiently describe it... it must be seen to be
appreciated. The intricacy of weaving and the brilliant contrasts of dyes used is nothing like I've ever witnessed,
though the Tibetans come close. From the top of their heads to their ankles it's a joyous celebration of patterns
and hues.
The men are more apt to wear contemporary clothing, though some older males have pajama style pants with a colorful
woven belt wrapped around their waist, plus a distinctive brimmed hat. Some of the rural men also have on a thick,
heavy… well, uh… actually a skirt! Girls of all ages are often dressed traditionally, but all the boys and young
men opt for the American jeans, t-shirt and baseball cap look.
Each village on Lago de Atitlán can be visited via boat and I twice went to Santiago Atitlán, which
is Tzutuhil Maya. Once you disembark you'll be instantly and repeatedly beseeched with offers by young boys to
take you to see Maximón, a revered deity whose image is paraded through town during Semana Santa (Holy Week).
This wooden figure is otherwise cared for at home by an honored town elder, receiving offerings like cigarettes,
alcohol or candles, and for a fee you can go check it out. I had no interest and if you feel the same way just
tell them, "Yo fui", which means, "I went." and they'll then leave you alone. Santiago is also
famous for its glass beadwork, hardwood carvings and unique paintings, with birds being the dominant theme.
Near the main square is the huge 16th century St. James the Apostle Church, which is worthvisiting, particularly
since it's a significant part of regional history. During the long civil war it eventually became a sanctuary for
indigenous locals during the frequent killings by the army. It was not uncommon for the military to summarily massacre
men, women and children as part of its "anti-terrorist" campaign. (I will get into this topic at greater
length in my next OTR.) Father Stanley Francis Rother, a missionary priest from Oklahoma, displayed understandable
sympathy for his parishioners and was consequently gunned down within the church in 1981. A plaque in the rear
of the church describes these events and commemorates his and other deaths, in both Spanish and English.
If you're craving a heavy dose of either easygoing serenity or New Age offerings, then climb on a boat going to
San Marcos. After checking it out on a day trip, Matt and I decided to revisit, primarily since we wanted to lodge
at the amazing Aacuulax, an accommodation quite unlike anything we'd ever been in before. Lovingly built by a German,
its emphasis is on blending contemporary art into nature while being eco-friendly. It's Gaudi joins the Sierra
Club!
Merged into the rocky yet tropical terrain, its layout and rooms are remarkably creative and aesthetically pleasing.
Plus with passive solar showers and compost toilets, it's a firm commitment to environmental sustainability that
you've got to admire. We ended up being there five nights, even though at Q70/night it was more than we normally
spend for a room… but this place was special. And free drinking water and a kitchen where we could and did prepare
most of our meals significantly reduced our other costs, so we still managed to stay within our budget of under
$15/day per person total for all costs.
San Marcos is by far the most serene village on the lake so if you demand constant activity to keep you going,
you may get a bit bored there. But if you just want to chill for a while and enjoy the splendor of the lake then
it'll probably suit you just fine. It does have a great shoreline for swimming with docks or rocky bluffs for jumping
in, the latter also great for sunbathing. These are just past Moonfish restaurant, which is run by an American
and his Guatemalan wife, and which serves up the best food value in the village while also providing a great view.
Incidentally, always make sure you have a flashlight and extra batteries with you at night on San Marcos since
there're few lights. And this is a good idea anywhere in Guatemala as power outages both day and night are standard
occurrences, and it's no wonder candles are sold everywhere. But more than once here I've needed to use the brail
method to find my way somewhere in pitch dark after a sudden loss of power.
San Marcos is best known for Las Pirámides meditation center, where every structure on the property is built
in pyramid shape and is oriented to the four cardinal points. It offers yoga and massage, plus lots of metaphysical
courses such as Tarot, Reiki, channeling, and the like. I half expected to see Shirley McClain there. Plus there's
a month-long program linked to the full moon claiming that it's consolidated the ageless wisdom of past spiritual
masters and will transform the attendee physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually… all for a hefty fee,
of course.
Excuse me for being cynical, but since I'm no stranger to this sort of thing I insist on pointing out that it customarily
takes years, if not decades, of intense and selfless effort for this kind of process to take hold. But hey, if
you want to give it a go, why not? What's rather comical to me is how you'll see many of the devotees from the
center during the day acting all pious and holier than thou, but at night they're hell-bent on trying to smoke
up their weight in marijuana!
There are plenty of long-term residents - an interesting blend of odd personalities. One is a guy who goes by the
name of Monkey (why not?) and who decided to start up a bar and restaurant in the house he rents. He initiated
this project with a partner who then instantly bailed out on him, but he's pushed onward despite no operating capital.
With an engaging naivety and plenty of passion he's written out his mission statement on the wall in colored pens
and gathered around him kindred spirits who help out, doing this and that - when they're not too stoned. At the
time that Matt and I were there Monkey's Place had been up and running about two weeks and you could meet other
travelers, get a bite to eat, watch a video, drink a beer or try to smoke your weight in marijuana. Since there's
really no bar or other hangout at night in San Marcos, plus the fact Matt and I liked Monkey a lot, we wish him
tons of luck.
In addition to boats, in most cases there's usually another means of getting from village to village: "colectivos".
These are pickup trucks which have mounted racks in the back for standing passengers to hold on to for dear life
while racing down the winding dirt roads. They get packed full, are very cheap, and are a quality ride thanks to
the good-natured camaraderie and jaw dropping scenery. One day a few of us took one from San Marcos to nearby San
Juan where an annual festival celebrating their patron saint was taking place.
There were food booths, some amusement rides, the typical dumb carnival games, vendors selling ice cream out of
push carts, and lots of locals milling around or sitting, talking and watching what was going on - most in traditional
attire. The main thing happening was the Baile de los Conquistadores. Attached to a two-tiered platform was a roped
off area, and within it were a couple of dozen dancers, all adorned in brilliantly colored costumes and masks.
Up on the platform were a few more hopping around and gazing up at them I tripped off on a brief and strange flashback
to the 70s, with images of disco clubs like the Whiskey-a-Go-Go!
As far as I could tell, the event was all a mockery of the hated Spanish conquistadors that'd so violently transformed
their history. The dancing seemed largely impromptu with occasional long pauses in the action, possibly so the
guys wearing all the heavy gear could cool off a little. It was unmercifully hot! I soon searched out some shade
in front of the ancient church and sat down to share pleasantries with a couple of amiable old fellows. Under a
nearby covered archway one guy thumped a tom-tom style drum while another was playing a flute. It was a fine way
to spend part of a Sunday afternoon.
Not actually on the lake but often visited from Panajachel is Chichicastenango, the famed market town 37km away
and home of the Quiché Maya. The easiest way is to get there is via shuttle bus, but a much cheaper and
more interesting option is to take the bus, though this requires a quick change in Los Encuentros. Chichi, as it's
usually referred to, is the best-known market town in Guatemala with Thursday and Sunday being the big days. Making
a day trip, leaving in the morning about 8 to 9 and returning in early afternoon, provides you with sufficient
time to explore this town of 8,000.
As pointed out earlier, Chichi is not the best place to purchase traditional clothing and crafts. Panajachel is.
The prices in Chichi are much higher, despite the fierce competition among rows upon rows of stalls. But bus loads
of typical garden variety Holiday Inn tourists come rolling through, outfitted at Gap and Banana Republic, with
their video cameras buzzing, and they're unsuspecting consumers more often than not. So vendors can get away with
insanely inflated prices, knowing that they can still reap massive profits even after cutting their asking price
in half.
I was in Chichi twice, first alone and then later with Matt when we spent a forgettable night there on our way
north and I didn't care for it all that much, especially in the market since many vendors were so aggressive. If
you pause while walking for just a second you're likely to become immediately encircled. It was hard for me to
relax there until I could find a café on a balcony overlooking the market area, and from there watch the
locals carrying bundles of clothing or produce up and down the narrow, cobbled streets, or the women sitting with
their goods, bartering with customers, sometimes while nursing their babies.
In the market's center is a food court area where hungry souls can inexpensively gobble up local cuisine such as
the classic beans and rice, or perhaps fried chicken or maybe eggs… each with the obligatory freshly cooked tortillas.
One sound I absolutely loved while walking through was the constant pat - pat - pat of young gals slapping the
flour into flat tortillas, while at the same time jabbering away in their local Mayan dialect.
Iglesia de Santo Tomás, though a Catholic church, is more the setting for Mayan rituals than for Catholic
services. The front steps are used for shaman prayer ceremonies, with Chuchkajaues (prayer leaders) swinging censors
containing estoraque (balsam incense) and chanting in honor of their ancestors and the ancient Maya calendar. It's
more respectful to enter from the side entrance and inside you'll discover a scene somewhat similar to what I described
in my last On the Road (So long, Mexico) at San Juan Chamula. Pine needles and
candles are scattered over the floor while families kneel and chant prayers. Flowers, food and liquor may be there
as offerings to ancestors, some of whom are buried beneath the church floor.
At the edge of town is the Shrine of Pascual Abaj, perched on a pine-clad hilltop. A short walk and easy climb
will offer you a look at the stone idol representing Huyup Tak'ah, the Mayan earth god. Various ceremonies take
place, including offerings of incense, food, cigarettes, flowers, Coca-Cola or liquor. The shrine was a bit of
a disappointment but it was a nice casual stroll up the path and I later found a quiet place to sit overlooking
the village and meditate. Returning to town I got off the trail, ended up cutting across someone's cornfield, and
subsequently found myself cornered in it by a nasty looking dog viciously defending its turf. It appeared intent
on nothing less than disemboweling me. Hearing all the commotion, a girl about eight-years-old rescued me by coming
out and plunking it with a rock that she hurled like a Roger Clemons fastball!
Sololá is small village you'll pass through as the road descends slowly, switch-backing its way down into
Panajachel. Few visitors stay there, but Friday is market day so you might be tempted to make the short trip up
from the lake. On our way out of town one of the several times we left Pana, Matt and I decided to stop while toting
our packs. Big mistake. First of all it was insanely crowded, as most markets are, and it was extremely difficult
maneuvering through the mass of humanity with our packs. Sometimes it actually became a pushing match trying to
make our way. And it was chaotic. Crowds and chaos are the perfect elements for thieves to work in and in a short
time Matt noticed that his wallet was gone!
In the confusion of getting off the bus and suddenly being thrust into the entire goings on he'd neglected to put
it in a more secure location on his person. Fortunately this was not his all important travel wallet which was
carefully tucked away under his clothing, but his secondary one with less than Q100 in it. Apparently it'd been
easy for a pickpocket to snatch it. So this was now his second secondary wallet he'd lost! From that point on he
abandoned the second wallet ploy and just rolled up and stuffed a little cash in his pocket, probably a better
option.
A bit later, after a huge effort getting down an aisle that resembled a rugby scrum, a woman pointed out to me
that my shirt had been slashed… there was a cut about six inches long! Someone had gone for my travel wallet with
a knife, but it was under the belt of my backpack and safe from theft. However I'd had a close call and a beautiful
shirt I'd bought in Santiago had been ruined. Damn!
We got the hell out of Sololá as fast as we could by immediately jumping on a bus, and for the next hour
as we rode along I struggled to get rid of images of myself beating and kicking the living shit out of a faceless
thief. All I could think of was Matt being robbed… again… and how close a call I'd had. I slouched back in my seat
and confronted my anger, doing my mantras and breath meditation, struggling to calm myself while reminding myself
of how hopelessly desperate so many of the people are and trying to see myself as being them, as well as being
myself…. inseparable. I was appalled at how I was feeling, how I could react with such intense feelings of violence.
But for many miles I was hopping mad!
Eventually I returned to my sanity and once again could see and smell the flowers along the road and enjoy the
smiles of those sitting around me. There are just no guarantees in life, especially when traveling, and most everyone
I know who's been on the road any length of time has been robbed… some violently. So I reminded myself that no
blood had been shed, that little money had been lost, and that it was just a price to pay for us to be experiencing
this land of immense beauty and fascination. And getting angry has never solved anything, has it?
Next would be the Highlands - Guatemala's coldest and most dramatic region. Stay tuned for that.
"As soon as you're born you start dying, so you might as well have a good time." -Cake-
Peace...
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Peace,