Guatemala Part 8

Guatemala 8: Final chapter

My last day in Guatemala. I had my morning cappuccino, and then sat on my bench in the park. One of the street urchins approached me selling a newspaper. He, or she, I couldn’t tell, was wearing filthy clothing, he had a dirty face, but the most beautiful eyes. Maybe 5 or 6. All I could think of were my grandchildren, and how fortunate we are to be living in Canada. I gave him a few coins.

I just love the faces in Guatemala. The children look so innocent and angelic; but it is the faces of the old ones that really interest me. I look at them and think about what they have seen. It is interesting I have not been anywhere else, in my travels, where the postcards have so many with just faces of the local people.

A few minutes later a man approached me and offered to sell me a machete. Another Guatemalan moment.

I asked a couple of young American girls to take a picture of me sitting on my bench. You have to be careful who you entrust with your camera. My main criterion is it must be someone who I think I can outrun. It turns out they are part of a group of students from the University of Minnesota, who just arrived in Antigua yesterday. They are spending a semester here studying Spanish. For credit.

Sure beats the hell out of any semester I had in engineering. After a few minutes the rest of the class showed up. They looked soooo white.

As the afternoon goes on more and more tour buses pull up in front of the cathedral, regurgitating masses of wizened, old, overweight people, all wearing their cute little tour badges, wearing ridiculous outfits.

I know my body is no longer in dating shape, but I sure hope as hell I don’t look like that. I shudder.

They stumble off the bus, take pictures of the cathedral, pictures of each other in front of the cathedral, pictures of the virgins spouting water from their nipple, pictures of each other and the virgins.

The virgins don’t look impressed.

Then it’s back on the bus and time to check off Antigua on their “to see list”.

Very depressing.

Evenings at the park are much nicer. Families stroll with their children, groups of teens wander in circles, playing the flirting game, young lovers share intimate moments. Very few gringos.

Very pleasant.

I splurge in the evening, and have dinner at Panze Verde, the best restaurant in Antigua. Luckily a friend has made reservations for me, because they are fully booked. I had a great steak dinner, in a gorgeous setting, in front of a real fireplace, with a real fire.

Cost of the dinner-30 dollars, Memories-Priceless

Sunday morning it is another 5 am shuttle to the airport. My driver is another Daytona 500 apprentice. As we drive through Guatemala City he barely slows down for red lights. He does not stop and wait for the green light, he just slows down. I have had a happy life, but I really don’t want to die in Guatemala City- the armpit of Central America.

Miraculously we make it to the airport, and I have time to change my underwear before I go through security. Amazingly they let me keep all my liquid containers, and even my metal spiked walking stick. I only have a carry on, and I was sure I would lose the walking stick. They did open my bag, but let me keep it.

I flew from Guatemala to Costa Rica, from there to San Salvator, and then on to Toronto.

At the airport in Costa Rica I get to spend my last Qs, and I bought another 6 pounds of coffee. That makes a total of 12 pounds of coffee. I am left with 15 Q.

Well I did it. I am back home with a great big suitcase full of memories.

I would like to thank all of you for allowing me to be part of the team, for accepting me, for supporting me, and for sharing these memories.

It’s been a BLAST.

Adios amigos

Ralf