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

Guatemala Part 7

Guatemala Part 7: The end is in sight

I think computer keyboards are a cottage industry in Guatemala. They are all different; I have not come across 2 that are the same. Boy, I really miss my apostrophe, my dashes, my quotation  marks, and so on.

  This morning I started to type my email. To get the “@” sign you must hit ALT 64. I did that and nada.    I tried again. Nada. I tried again while saying ABRACADABRA. Nada. Open Sesame did not work either. I finally asked the guy running the place, and he hit some magic key, and everything worked. Another time I tried to use the apostrophe, and the keyboard turned into the Korean keyboard.

A few days ago I had a key board where the “a” and “d” keys were reversed. When you hit the “a” key you got “d”, and vice versa. Slows down your typing I tell you.

I think the guys designing these boards are sexually repressed, and do not have a sex life. I hope so anyway, because we don’twant to pass on those genes.

On Friday morning I took a chicken bus to Solola. Friday is market day in Solola. What an unbelievable colourful sight.

Not nearly as tacky as the market in Antigua. You can buy just about anything. I even saw a guy selling rocks by the pound.

The costumes were also quite different. The men wear very colourful long pants, and they have what looks like a blanket wrapped around their waist. It almost looks like a short skirt. The older women braid their hair in an intricate manner. I can't imagine the time it takes to make these braids.

I sure hope the photos turn out.

I met with Ramon and friends on more time and we had a coffee together. Maia invited me to visit her if I get anywhere near where she lives in Spain. Maybe in September.

On the way back on the chicken bus to Pana I saw the most beautiful views of Lake Atitlan.

It is interesting. Every chicken bus I have been on is made by the Blue Bird Body Company in Georgia, USA. They are all school buses, decorated by their owners. No two are the same.

In all my travels through Guatemala, I have only seen a total of 3 speed limit signs. But they do not really need them, because they have killer speed bumps. If you go more than 10 klicks you do serious damage to your vehicle. They are not well marked, and I was always amazed how my drivers knew where they were, even in the dark.

The drive back to Antigua in a mini van was very pleasant. I even got to sit beside the driver.

In the evening I sat on my favourite bench, and discovered the virgins were turned on again. For those of you that missed this part. There is a fountain in the center of Antigua, that features 4 female figures, virgins of course. When the fountain is on water spurts from the nipples. I guess it is a male thing. Well last week the virgins were dry, but yesterday the water flowed again.

I really do not get this thing about virgins.

It is like those suicide bombers who blow themselves up and expect 72 virgins. I have been happily married for 42 years, and I must say it is not that easy to keep one woman happy. Multiply that by 72, and you are into serious labour.

And then there is the monthly bill for sanitary napkins. Brutal.

And since all these virgins are the same age, they will all hit menopause at the same time. Can you imagine living with 72 menopausal women. I can’t.

I don’t think the Muslims have thought this all the way through.

Well, with that happy thought I off to bed, no doubt having nightmares about 72 virgins.

Till tomorrow

Your Guatemalan Traveller.

Guatemala Part 6

                Guatemala Part 6 Pana part 2

Happy Valentine´s day to you all.

Give someone dear a kiss and think of me.

This month Friday the 13th came on a Wednesday.

Yesterday was Black Wednesday.

I woke up at 6 with the mother of all hangovers. What was I thinking trying to keep up with 4 young Spaniards. And that smoke.

There is a marching band playing the Hebrew version of a Sousa march in my left eyeball.

I get up , look in the mirror, and go back to bed.

I get up again and shave my tongue.

Breakfast is three Alka Seltzer.

At 9 I packed up and dragged myself to the dock to catch the ferry to Santiago.

Santiago is known for 3 tourist attractions. One is Maximon is a local deity. It is basically a wooden figure of a man, almost lifesize. It is dressed in colourful clothing, wearing a Stetson, sitting on a chair, with a drink in one hand and smoking a cigar. My kind of religion.

He is housed in different homes, and one of the tourist attractions is for kids to guide tourists to wherever he is. For a price of course. They charge 10 Q for every single photo you take of Maximon.

When you land in Santiago you are immediately surrounded by a crowd of little kids trying to grab your hand so that they can lead you to Maximon. I was not interested and fought my way through the crowd.

I had decided to stay at a hotel that was mentioned in one of the tour books. Of course it was uphill. When I got there she showed me a room. I have never seen such a dump. The ceiling was the corrugated tin roof. There was no toilet paper, soap, or towel. The sink was so small you had to wash your hands one at a time.The door had no door lock, it was a clasp and a padlock.

I did not know what to do. I just wanted to lie down. I figured for one night I could take anything. I decided to go for a walk, maybe things will look better when I get back.

Before I left I made a deal with the cockroaches. I would give them my last piece of banana bread if they would watch over my luggage while I was gone. I felt better with the cockroaches on my team.

Santiago turned out to be no better than my hotel.

Noisy and dirty.

Beside Maximon, Santiago is known for 2 other things. One is a distinctive style of painting. Colourful would be an understatement. There are no beiges, greys. Only brilliant colours. Certainly would be a conversation piece back home.

The third attraction in Santiago is that the men, particularly the older ones wear colourfully striped three quarter length shorts. Picture this... An older man wearing a hat, a suit jacket, and striped long shorts. And these people are short. I have this vision of the local basketball, the Santiago Cockroaches..at centre the tallest man on the team Ralf The Gringo. I can just visualize the team picture.

I got to get out of here.

I also visited the local church, another Santiago wonder. It is very plain. Along each side of the church are wooden statues, saints I presume, dressed in local costumes. I swear one looked just like an Elvis impersonator, wearing the outfit Elvis had in that Hawaiian movie. At the front of the church is a statue of Christ dragging the cross. I think this one was designed by DeSade. I have never seen so much blood. I feel like I should put some band aids on him.

I got to get out of here.

I get back to my room. The luggage was safe. The cockroaches did a great job. I gave them my last cookie as a bonus.

I give up on the room, and head for the dock; and I do not feel safe till the boat has left the dock.

Pana looks beautiful as we get there. I get a room on the third floor with my own balcony. And it is clean. I take a shower, to wash the last of Santiago off my body, and have a snooze.

After I wake up I walk the town and read a bit. It is time to listen to some Norah Jones and Diana Krall.

I must say that this journal has become a big part of the trip for me. It started out simply as a way to record some of my experiences, but now it seems to have a life of its own. I am really enjoy doing it every day.

And thanks for the comments. I guess I am a bit of a ham, and I love an audience.

Tim wrote that he and Jerry took the same road to Pana that I did, and at night. hats off. Jerry... you the MAN.

 I actually had another Jerry moment in Antigua last week. As I was walking along the road a car passed, and just at that moment its alarm system went off. I can still remember Jerry and the rental car in Rosario. Doors wide open, the hood up, and the alarm system blaring away. Seems so long ago now.

Anyway I hope all are you are having a wonderful Valentines Day.

Till the next time

Ralf, the Celibate Traveller

Guatemala Part 5

Guatemala Part 5 San Pedro

In the morning I took a boat to San Pedro, one of the villages on Lake Atetlan. San Pedro is known as a hippie hangout, the place for drugs. The lower section, near the docks, is like a time-warp. It’s Yorkville, 1970, all over again. I haven’t seen so many hippies in years. They still flash the peace sign. And they are all American or Canadian.

I had lunch in a restaurant and it was all gringos. The only native was the cook. The menu was in English, and everyone spoke English. Not my scene.

The town is full of Spanish schools, and a lot of New Age things. You can chose between “Hot rock” massages, Mayan massages, Japanese massages. You name it. There are signs for yoga classes, there are palm readers, Tarot card readers. You get the idea.

As you climb the street you enter a different world. Very few tourists. Not nearly as many colourful costumes as in Pana. I think in Pana it’s mainly for the tourists.

The gringo restaurants show movies at night to bring in the customers. One bar is showing "Juno", a Canadian film, that I would like to see. On the way to the bar I stopped at the local coffee operation. It is quiet during the day, but in the evening the farmers bring in the beans they have picked during the day. The bags get weighed, and recorded. The beans are sent through several large machines that remove the outer husks. The beans are then washed. I have noticed several places in town, a couple as large as a basketball court, where the beans are spread out and allowed to dry in the sun. At the end of this drying period you end up with green coffee beans. In this state the beans can last years without losing any flavour. Once the whole beans are roasted they last a month or two, before they lose flavour, depending on how they are packaged. Once the beans are ground they lose flavour within days. While I am standing there, who comes up behind me, but Amaia and Paz. They had quite the ride home last night. Because of the downpour some of the roads were like raging rivers. They decided to postpone the Volcano walk for a day, and were staying in San Pedro for the night, doing the walk first thing in the morning.

I took the ladies for a cappuccino at my favourite little coffee bar. Afterwards we met Ramon and Pedro for a drink at a bar overlooking the lake. It was a beautiful evening, a few stars, and you could see the twinkling lights of a couple of the villages across the moonlit lake. It was very romantic.

I finally got the story straight. Ramon and Pedro are best of friends, from their school days back in Spain. Pedro and his wife are presently living in Solola, a village just north of Pana. Ramon and Amaia are in Guatemala for a couple of weeks. They traveled around Guatemala the first week, and are spending this week with Pedro and his wife. Paz is Pedro’s sister. She is presently living in Kyoto, in Japan. She is working on a PHD in microbiology. They are all flying home on Saturday.

They invited me to join them for a concert at Zoola’s. Zoola’s is a hostel, hotel, restaurant, run by some Isrealis. It has quite a reputation, and is always full, mostly Isreali hippies.

Zoola’s was quite the experience. You must visualize a good-sized thatch roofed pavilion. Seating is on bamboo mats around low tables. Even at 9 the aroma of smoke, other than cigarettes, is hanging in the air.

It was a perfect evening until the trio started to sing. It was Tiny Talent Time, with the emphasis on Tiny. They sang, and I use the word loosely, in Hebrew and English. You have not experienced life until you have heard Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” sung in Hebrew, and badly.

After an hour the microphone committed suicide, and for the rest of the night we listened to music over the PA. They played a lot of Bob Marley. Jewish hippies listening to Jamaican reggae; deep in the heart of Guatemala; Pinch me.

Ramon, handsome devil that he is, actually scored some weed, and was busily rolling a large joint. Beer here comes in 1L bottles. I have never seen such large bottles. What you do is buy one bottle, and share it. When that is gone, you get another bottle. That way the beer is always cold and fresh.

In his travels around the restaurant Ramon also met one of the locals, who joined our little group. This gentleman was a teacher at a local school where he taught one of the Mayan languages to Mayan children. With the help of his 96 year grandmother he has written a Spanish-Mayan dictionary.

We spent the rest of the evening learning about the Mayan culture and religion. He even tried to teach us how to say hello and goodbye, in Mayan. The four Spaniards talked to him is Spanish, and then took turns translating into English for me. What a delightful group of young people.

We didn’t leave until the waitress kicked us out.

I staggered back to my hotel, and sat on the porch looking out over the lake, just soaking in the experience of the last few hours.

Priceless.

Reality is stranger than fiction.

Guatemala Part 4

Guatemala Part 4 And the journey continues

My original plan had been to visit Coban, in the interior of Guatemala, but after Honduras and Tikal, I just could not face another 8 hour shuttle ride. I also wanted to see the Holy Week Procession in Antigua which had not been in my original plans. So I have decided to spend more time in the Lake Atitlan area; the pace will be slower.

I now have a nice morning routine; up at about 6, off for a cappuccino and a pastry. After coffee I say morning prayers to my patron saints, Saint Lucie of the shoelaces, and Saint Denise of the zipper.

So far they have not failed me, I have not tripped once, and my fly is always up, in public anyway. That is until today. St Denise let me down; I travelled all the way to Pana with my fly undone. I must light another candle for St. Denise, or maybe a beer in her honour will do.

The road to Pana was fine. The last half hour or so must have been a shortcut, because we only saw about 6 cars. The road was very narrow and wound down into a valley and back up again. No chicken buses. They could not possible negotiate some of these turns. We were stopped at one turn. A small construction truck was trying to get around the turn. The entire crew was in the front and the back, directing traffic, while the truck inched forward, then back and so on, until he finally made it. They all jumped on and away they went. I hope Tim and Jerry did not come this way. After you climb out of the valley you are suddenly hit with this overwhelmingly beautiful view of the lake. It does not come into view gradually, all of a sudden it is there. Hits you like a hammer. It is not as large as I expected, but the blue water and the towering volcanoes take your breath away.

Pana is basically a half  km street, with nothing but shops, stalls, restaurants and hotels.

I checked into my room in a hotel that Frank and Deborah had recommended. Nice room, private bath. 17 dollars.

I emailed part 3. Nothing is simple in Guatemala. In Antigua the keyboard was the same as home. Here they use the Guatemalan version. To type @ you must press on the ALT key and type 64. Not very intuitive. I remember the same problem in Croatia. I have not found the keys for the apostrophe, dash, or question mark. So "I’m"  becomes "I am".

 Eureka I have found it. BONUS.

One of the keyboards also had most of the letters scratched out, and I´m not a typist. I need another patron saint.

Saint .... of the keyboard. Any volunteers. Question mark.? Thank you Saint..

Another eureka moment. I will be interested in how these symbols appear to you.

I had another one of those wonderful coincidents. While I was typing yesterday I heard someone call my name. I look up and it is Ramon and Maia. It turns out that they are visiting friends in Solola, nearby, and Ramon recognized me. We exchanged hugs and kisses, and agreed to meet for dinner at 8. They were accompanied by another young lady, Paz.

After I finished typing I went to the lake shore. It is quite pretty, with a lot more flowers than Antigua. The view across the lake is wonderful, and the water is very clear. But there is garbage floating on the water. Pop bottles Styrofoam containers. The Guatemalan Touch.

Towards the evening the water gets choppy, and the clouds move in.

I met my Spanish friends along the street and Ramon told me that they would prefer to eat earlier. They have to take a local bus, which is basically a pickup where you sit in the open back, to Solola.  Apparently there have been several kidnappings of locals in the last month, and they did not want to wait too late into the evening before going home. We had a nice couple of drinks, and they invited me to join them on a volcano walk up San Pedro volcano. Now this is 6 hours straight up the mountain, and it is not active. I asked Ramon to email me any photos he will take, but I was not even tempted.

By this time it had started to thunder, lightning followed and there was a real downpour. I did not envy them the ride home.

The pace has certainly slowed. No 4 am shuttles, no terror rides on the roads. More time to reflect. I even had to buy a little book to keep my diary. I have run out of paper. The urge to purge has abated, thankfully.

Over the years people have told me I was full of shit, but, until last week I did not believe them. I do now. The only good news-- my eyes are not brown anymore, they are blue.

I have heard rumours that in this place you call Canada it is cold. There is snow. What is this thing you call SNOW? I am told you throw it, you build with it, you slide on it. Oh, you gringos you tell such stories.

I am really enjoying writing this journal. It makes me clarify what I am feeling and thinking. I hope that those of you reading it are also enjoying it. I love the feedbacks. Keep it up.

Til tomorrow

Hasta la vista ( I think that’s Spanish for see you later)

Ralf

Guatemala Part 3

On the road Part 3

My new hotel is fantastic. Same price too. I have a large room, a locked cupboad for valuables, and a beautiful private patio overlooking the garden. The bathroom is huge, and has a big skylight. On a sunny day you can get a sun tan while sitting on the john. My idea of multitasking. There is also a kitchen, microwave and fridge in the common area. And the shower is HOT. 2 days of hot showers.

On Saturday morning I had a great double cappuccino and a real croissant. The weather was perfect. I went on a walking tour with Elizabeth Bell. She is very involved in local activities and literacy programs. A lot of interesting info on the Mayas and local politics.

We visited a pre-Columbian museum, which was beautiful. It had an interesting concept. The sponsor collect glass art, and each pre-Columbian artifact was paired with a piece of modern glass art. Very effective. And they played Mozart on the sound system.

For lunch I had a perfect Austrian meal. In Austria the 4 food groups are bread, cheese and butter, sausage and beer. I had some of each. Once a peasant, always a peasant.

I did appease the diet gods by having salad for dinner. I bought some packaged pre-washed lettuce, and added some olives, tomatoes, and a fresh avocado. Delicious. Washed down with freshly squeezed orange juice.

I spent a couple of hours typing Part 2. I am a slow typist.

Afterwards I just sat in the park. I have a favourite bench, up by the Cathedral. and I just sit, read, and let the memories pass over me.

I tried to find the procession that was coming from one of the villages into Antigua. I went to the tourist to get the information, and the guide told me it started in Santa Catalina. I asked him to write it out for me and he wrote it on a map. With the map in hand I went to the bus station by the market. I showed the note to a couple of drivers, and found the chicken bus that would take me there. I had some time before the bus left so I went to the market. They truly sell everything, underwear, bras, machetes, hats, shoes, fruits, vegetables, meat
and fish. Everything except stamps. I have been trying to mail some postcards all week, but can't find a place to buy stamps. I finally found the post office, but it was closed. They open late, close for siesta, close early, and aren’t open on weekends. I might have to hand deliver these cards.

At 10 I boarded my bus and showed the driver my note. I was a little concerned when I noticed quite a few of the passengers making the sign of the cross as they got on, but what the heck, I survived the shuttle rides so far. I feel invincible.

It is an interesting system. The driver has an assistant who collects the fares, stores the baggage on top, and acts as a traffic cop. When several buses meet at an intersection, at the same time, there is chaos, because the streets are narrow, and the buses make wide turns. The assistants jump off, and sort out the traffic. Meanwhile the real traffic cops stand at the side of the road, looking official.

I started to get a little concerned after half an hour. The procession could not possibly travel this far. Sure enough the guide had written Santa Catarina, instead of Santa Catalina. So there I was in Santa Caranina...no procession, no English speakers. I had a coffee, and headed back to Antigua. This ride was also very pleasant.

Each driver personalizes his bus, and this driver, a very good looking hunk, by the way, was into stuffed toys. He had at least a dozen on his dashboard, some with blinking red eyes. He had also equipped his bus with an air horn, like the big transport trucks, and he loved playing it. It was like a musical instrument. He would stop in a village, play a little tune, and within a couple of minutes half a dozen passengers appeared. It got quite crowded, and I ended up with the most gorgeous little girl sitting on my lap. Her equally beautiful mother was sitting beside me.

Life Is Great.

Back in Antigua I had some cut up fruit for lunch. I wonder if I am tempting my stomach.

Had a little siesta.

After my siesta I started to walk to the Cathedral to watch the procession. As I walked along 7 Ave. I noticed some small groups constructing carpets. In some cases it is a family affair, grandparents, parents, grand children. One little girl was making her own little carpet. It was small, but she was working very intently. In this part of the city they were using pine needles as a base, rather than saw dust.

Then I noticed the procession approaching. I was not expecting much, because this was supposedly one of the smaller processions. They build until Holy Week, which is supposed to be fantastic. During Easter week, my 35 dollar room jumps to 75 dollars.

The first thing you see a double columns of about 60 Roman soldiers, in full uniform. They walk in single file along the side of the road, not to step on the carpets. Then there comes a band, followed by several hundred penitents, all wearing, white, black or purple robes. Then there come the incense burners. All you see are clouds of incense. The scent is overwhelming. You can hear a band playing a funeral march. And then this THING appears, out of the incense. It does not move straight. It sways as it floats several feet above the road. It is 50 feet long, weighs a couple of tons, and is carried by 40 men, who slowly shuffle along. My first impression was a dragon spewing smoke. As it nears you can distinguish the float and the men. On top of the float is an oversized figure of a bloody Christ, dragging a huge cross.

It is lit, electricity being supplied by a generator that is pulled behind the float.

As it passes I feel transported back to medieval times and the dominant emotion is one of fear and dread.

This is not a loving gentle God.

Elizabeth Bell explained that the Mayas do not really understand Christianity, but they understand Christ. During the past the Mayas offered humans to appease the gods. The people offered were considered privileged, and it was an honour to be chosen. It meant direct access to the ancestors. No mention of 72 virgins though. The Mayas think of Christ as being such a chosen one. She made a point of distinguishing between an offering and a sacrifice. I don’t know. In my opinion, either way does not do much for your social life.

Following the men’s float is a women’s float. This is smaller, and is carried by about 20 women. I noticed they were wearing heels, not high ones, but not flats either.

You have to remember this procession started at 11 am, has travelled several km, and will not end until it reaches the cathedral at about 6. There were well over 500 participants, taking turns, but it still is an unbelievable task.

I went to the Cathedral and watched the whole thing again. Still the same uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

It was just after 6 and the sky was fantastic. There were just enough clouds for a perfect sunset. Beautiful range of colours from gold to bronze to red to black. STUNNING.

I read a bit and went to bed. I woke up in the middle of the night and went out on the patio. The starts were gorgeous,

I could see the Big Dipper clearly. I found the North Star, showing the way home....

More to come

Ralf

Guatemala Part 2

Guatemala Part 2: And the saga continues:

On Wednesday night I returned to Antigua and went to a lecture on Lent, by Elizabeth Bell. She is an American, who has lived in Antigua for 40 years, and has written a couple of books on Antigua. She is also heavily involved in bettering Antigua. She talked about the processions that take place during Lent. Each of the churches in Antigua and the surrounding villages organize a procession on one of the Sundays in Lent. There are about 20. These floats all feature Christ on a float which is carried by the men of the church. The heaviest weighs 7000 lbs, and is carried by a  team of 47 men. They work in teams, and take turns.

Some of the processions last almost 10 hours. What makes Antigua unique is that the people along the route construct "carpets" for the float. These carpets are made out of coloured sawdust. There is a sawdust base, and then the coloured sawdust is used, by using stencils, to construct fantastic patterns. She had some slides, and it was unbelievable. Some of these carpets are made by individuals, but most are group projects. A block might get together, and construct a carpet the length of the block, and the blocks here are long.

There is a procession on Sunday, and I hope to see it.

Thursday morning was another 4 am shuttle to the Guatemala City airport, and a flight to Flores.

From there there was another 1 hr shuttle to Tikal. As soon as we arrived we went on a walking tour of the site. Our guide was very good; he didn't talk so much about data, but culture and sociology. I even learned some Mayan math.

Tikal is a very large site, with many restored temples, pyramids and palaces. The highlight was climbing the 200 stairs to the top of Temple IV. The view was spectacular. You overlook a sea of green , with just the very tops of the two highest temples emerging from this sea of green, like small islands.

I remember, at Montericco, feeling the power of the ocean waves. At Tikal I felt the same power of nature, just as irresistable as the ocean, but here it is slower and green, but just as powerful. The awe I felt at Tikal wasn't so much as what man created, but how temporary we are. The real power is Nature. One bush at a time, one tree at a time the jungle reclaims its own. That sea of green I saw from the temple was truly a memorable sight.

After the tour we had lunch. This was the first full meal I have eaten since last Saturday.

I have had "stomach" problems. That's a genteel way of saying that I never felt safe more than 100 meters from a toilet. I think I could do a walking tour "The toilets of Antigua". Or maybe a travel book "Guatemala, One Toilet At A Time"; or how about "The Volcano Behind Me". Enough,-impressionable youngsters might be reading this.

After lunch I had a shower, and then I returned to the park on my own. As I said Tikal is large. The main city housed several thousand nobles, priests, and wealthy people. There were 25 villages surrounding Tikal, and supporting the elite.

The majority of tourists to Tikal come on day trips, so by the middle of the afternoon it is much more peaceful.

I visited some of the smaller temples and complexes, and just walked through the jungle. I hardly met anyone else. I could really absorb the aromas, sounds, and the atmosphere of the jungle. There is always an orchestra of birds. The most amazing sounds though are the howler monkeys. These are only a couple of feet high, but when I first heard a troop howling I thought it was a herd of elephants trumpeting.

A truly amazing sound.

Because of the density of the canopy it is hard to see any animals and birds. I did see some monkeys cavourting in the branches, but they weren't howlers. It was wonderful walking all alone in the jungle. I felt very insignificant.

When I originally checked into the hotel I switched rooms with a couple from California, Frank and Deborah, because my original room had 2 beds, theirs only one. When I got back from my walk I found out that Deborah had been bitten by a scorpion when she moved her pillow, in what was my original room. According to the maid the local treatment was to rub the wound with the blood of the scorpion. Frank had squashed it, and they actually applied the blood. Didn't do any good.

-Another myth shot to hell.

Her finger was swollen and quite sore.

When I returned to my room I spent quite a few minutes carefully checking every nook and cranny. A small moth made me jump a couple of feet, but no scorpions. Nada- thankfully.

I had dinner with Frank and Deborah. They are from the San Francisco area, and had been part of the hippie generation in the seventies. They drifted apart, but got together again several years ago. She had a great story.

Her only sister died three years ago. Her sister had a hard life, had always wanted to travel, but never could. She asked Deborah to take her ashes, and to spread them around the world, as Deborah travelled. So part of Deborah's purpose for this trip was to spread her sister’s ashes at Tikal.

What a great idea.

Friday morning I was up at 4 am to take part in the Sunrise tour. A major disappointment. You walk, with a flashlight, in otherwise complete darkness, for 45 minutes, climb 200 steps up Temple IV, and wait. There isn't any sunrise, just a lightening of the mist. I was told the magic of the birds and monkeys waking up, but to be honest they didn't sound any different at 5:30 than they had done the day before. This doesn't compare to sitting at the shore of a lake in Algonquin Park, watching the mist slowly lift, and hearing the loons. Now that is Magic!!

I joined another tour for the day, to a site near Tikal. It was interesting, but I have spent the last 4 days climbing up and down temples, in very warm and humid weather.

When I was in China we rated days as 2, 3, or 4 shower days. These last 3 days have been 3 shower days. I"m "templed" out.

The flight back was pleasant, but then we had to take the shuttle back to A. I must tell you the riding a shuttle in Guatemala City. has moved up to number 2 on my list of things to avoid; just behind having my privates gnawed at by a bunch of rabid beavers, and just ahead of eating red-hot barbed wire.

I remember when we arrived in Guatemala City the first day and drove to the coast. There was one intersection where 3 lanes of traffic have to merge into 1, and then try to merge on to a 4 lane road where traffic is zipping by at 60 km/h.

Well we hit that intersection again. Only now it's 6, its dark, and it's rush hour. I think it took 20 minutes.

And then there was the drive back. Our driver looked meek, but he seemed to have some oriental features. I think he was a kamikaze pilot in a previous life. Three times he passed a line of trucks, on the wrong side of a 2-lane highway, with no shoulders, around a blind curve, going uphill, in the dark. And the whole times Salsa music is blasting at full volume. The guy beside me started to pray; I was trying to keep my pants dry. My life flashed before me so many times I had time to pause and rewind the good parts.

Guatemala City gets my vote for "Armpit Of Central America"

But we did survive. I am staying at another new hotel. I have slept in 7 different beds the last 7 nights. Sleeping around is not as much fun as people say it is.

The hotel is the nicest so far. Beautiful room, I even had a HOT shower.

A first.

I phoned my wife Sandy, told her I was still alive, loved her dearly, and hoped to see her again in this life.

Then I bought a bottle of mango juice, for supper, sat on my favourite bench in the park, listened to a brass band, and went to bed at 10.

to be continued (I hope)

PS Thanks to those who have replied. Keep it up.

Ralf

Guatemala Part 1

This blog is a diary of my trip to Guatemala in January of 2008. The first week I was part, very minor, of a dental team from Canada. At the end of our week in Monterrico, I stayed, on my own, for two more weeks.
This is a diary of those two weeks.


Greetings From The lonely Traveller

It was sad to part company, on Sunday, and for the rest of the day I was in a daze. I switched rooms at the hotel, and moved into Tracey and Martha's room. Nicer view, and a working shower. Tracey left 2 cans of beer and her boots. I swear that those boots jumped on my bed at 3 am. I made some travel arrangements with Real on Monday, and spent the rest of the day wandering around A. I came across a road construction, where they were replacing the cobble stones for an entire block. There must have been 100 men working, using only chisels, shovels, and picks. No power equipment. Except for the metal tools probably the same as the Mayas, 800 years ago.

I also switched hotels. Nicer room, and a communal fridge. COLD BEER. Thanks Tracey. I left Tracey's boots with Real, so no wake up at 3, although I had to get up at 3:30 for my 4 am shuttle to Honduras. Long ride, 7 hours, full van. The drive through Guatemala was dreary. We passed several factories that were spewing out dark black smoke. That and the local garbage burning creates a lot of smog. I don't think breathing in Guatemala is healthy.

As we approached the border to Honduras. the pollution decreased, and the scenery improved. Much greener. The border crossing was interesting. You have to pay 10Q to leave Guatemala, and 25Q to enter Honduras.

Copan Ruinas is a pretty little town. The hotel was only 15 US, and had a nice shower and fan. It was hot in CR and very humid, so the fan was welcome. The only problem is that everything is run by a generator, so until the hotel turned it on, no electricity, no water. The owner said it would work in an hour.

I had lunch with 3 of the passengers from the mini van. Interesting mix of people. One was a 40 year old Brit, who had been raised in Sweden, and spent the last 15 years in Thailand. He has a wife and kids there. He is on a 3 month trip through the area. Just drifting. Christine is a Korean girl from New York City. Mustaffah is a Pakistani living in Washington DC. He was in Pakistan when Bhutto was assassinated. We had an interesting discussion about world politics. When you travel with a group you tend to stick to the group. One of the differences when you travel solo, is that you meet some interesting strangers, with fascinating stories. For example Christine told me that the best coffee in the world is in Ethiopia. I guess that's something I might not get to experience. Christine, Mustaffah and I shared a ride to the ruins just outside of town. The ruins are in a beautiful jungle setting. The pyramids aren't huge, but they have some gorgeous stone sculptures. There is also a wonderful museum on site, with English explanations. BONUS.

Copan is a cute little town, very green, lots of flowers. I didn't see any native dresses as in Antigua, but most of the men wore straw hats. I also saw a couple of beautifully dresses, chic women. Reminded me of Spain.I returned from the ruins at about 4. The electricity was on, but still no water. I had to go to the desk and ask. It worked, I could shower, and flush the toilet. The little things which we take for granted.

Wednesday morning was beautiful. Pleasantly cool, and mist over the mountains. As I was walking around town, looking for a cup of coffee I see a young couple that had been on my 4 am shuttle the day before. I walk in and ask if I could join them. They make a very beautiful couple. He is very handsome, and she is just plain beautiful. Maybe I hope some will rub on me. It turns out they are from Spain, one of my favourite countries. We have a nice talk, before I say goodbye.

After breakfast I visited a bird sanctuary where they look after birds that have been injured, or neglected as pets. Beautiful macaws, toucans, parakeets. The birds are well looked after, and the setting was in the jungle, with a stream running through the property. They have over 60 species.

Part of the ticket includes a guide, and because I got there a bit early I had my own guide. I took a tuk tuk back to town. What a ride. I'm sure I didn't lose any internal organs, but I'm also sure they were rearranged. I left Copan Ruinas to return to Antigua at noon. The ride back was much more pleasant. There were only 4 of us, and we didn't have to pay at the border. Everything went well until we hit Guatemala C. at 4. It took one hour to cross the city. The fumes were dreadful, and it reminded me of Dante's Inferno.

I have another 4 am shuttle tomorrow. I'm off to Tikal for 2 days, back in Antigua on Friday. Till then wish me luck. Ralf