Guatemala
Guatemala is a wonderful place and one of my top 3 countries during my travelling days.
I went there first in 1992 with Peter. We came in through sleazy Belize, into the northern jungles to see a place called Tikal. Tikal is a ruined Mayan city from around 900 AD. We came in on the top of a bus, the classic you hear about whereby bus is full of goats and chickens and they let the tourists on top of the bus.
It’s funny to me that in 2012 there were doomsayers believing the world was going to end because the Mayan calendar had run out. From what I learnt the Mayans used ropes with knots to count time. So I picture some priest marking out time with his knots and ropes, and getting way, way ahead of their current time, then giving up thinking he had gone far enough into the future. Modern man discovers the Mayan calendar and panics when it reaches the end, but the reason could be as simple as the calendar guy got bored and stopped.
The Guatemalan scenery was amazing with the thick, tall jungle trees, vines and undergrowth and Tikal itself was breathtaking. Old temples built with blocks and no mortar and you could climb to the top of a few for a great view out over the rolling hills and treetops of the jungle. At one point I wandered away from our group and was lucky enough to see a live toucan, so pretty and colourful. He was very shy though and as I gently moved forward a step he retreated from branch to branch. I did not get a photo but it was a special and rare moment for me and they are still one of my favourite birds. Their huge beaks are actually very light as they are filled with air bubbles and thus are not as solid as they look.
We left Tikal from the nearby town of Flores for a hell 12 hour journey south out of the jungle to the capital Guatemala City. The road was dirt and bumpy and the trip long and hot. We were wary too of being pulled over by the military as the early 90’s were unsettled times in Guatemala, but we were lucky and got there safely. In Guatemala City we boarded a bus to go back north, this time closer to the Pacific Coast, to visit a place called Lake Atitlan. It was legendary on the travellers circuit and had been discovered by American hippies in the 60’s.
Lake Atitlan is a volcanic lake some 1500 m deep, with volcanoes surrounding it, one you could climb that was 1500 m high. We boarded a ferry to take us across to the town and found our way into this small town with only a few streets.
We hired a room very cheaply and stayed there for a few weeks. The food was cheap and a big bottle of beer was only 60 cents.
We duly climbed the volcano with a local guide. We were warned not to take money up there due to thieves, so when he wanted payment at the top and we said we had none he was pissed off, but of course we paid him back in the village.
The view from the top of the volcano was just spectacular. At one point the clouds drifted up the volcano side and seemed to go right through us. It was surreal and a great experience.
Pedro our guide, on the left, an American guy and Pete at the top of the volcano. The American guy was 36, married to a 54 year old, with an 18 year old daughter and one year old grandaughter. I guess if his family kept up that record he would be a great grandfather by now….
The locals did not have much money and the sanitation was third world but the locals were so happy and smiling. Kids running around and their beautiful colourful clothes, it was a really happy place to be.
They live on rice and beans, and maybe eggs, as they do in many Central and South American small towns and villages. So arroz, frijoles and huevos (rice, beans and egg) is a standard dish. I of course always declined the eggs as I hate them. But it was here that I tried an omelette one day. My mate had been having them often and they smelt and looked so good. So I tried one and have to admit it tasted as good as it smelt. However that night I was up with a severe case of the trots so I know they don’t agree with me. I tried them though!
It was here too that I learnt to like spicy sauces. At most cafes and restaurants there were two small bottles of sauce on the table. The red one was hot and I developed a taste for it. The green one was ridiculously hot, and we only tried that a few times with plenty of beer handy.
After a great few weeks Pete and I split and he went up the west coast through Mexico to fly home out of LA. I went south down to the Caribbean side to make my own way up to the east side of Mexico, Cancun, and fly back to my friends in Louisiana. I had with me a big bag of colourful Guatemalan gear as gifts for the family, as I was making my way home after 3.5 years on the road.
I had photos of goods and the contact name of an American lady who shipped Guatemalan clothes all over the world, and had half an idea I may import some to OZ if it seemed popular. The 3 waistcoats, 5 shorts and 5 long drawstring pants I had were indeed popular with friends at home. And the bundles of cloth bracelets, which I bought for $4US for 120 of them sold really well at the markets, but I never did get around to importing stuff. And within two years I was seeing similar goods in the hippy type shops so maybe I missed an opportunity there.
The Caribbean side was a lot sleazier and Livingstone was a town I was not fond of, especially on my own lugging a lot of gear. I made my way up to Cancun on buses via Honduras. The Caribs and Rastas seemed to eye you off like you were prey, but maybe I was a little paranoid traveling on my own.
I went back to Guatemala and Lake Atitlan in 1994 with Jessica. I went on ahead to secure lodgings while she went to Tikal with some American travellers we had met.
In Guatemala City at the open air square that served as the bus depot the ticker sellers walked around yelling “Guate Guate” or other destination names, directing you to the buses. While I waited for my bus I watched guys grabbing luggage off the back of the buses as they pulled out, then running away with their loot. So I stood at the back of my bus, keeping an eye on it as we pulled out, and at every other stop in the city as we left.
At Lake Atitlan I found us a room in a big square besser block building divided into 4 rooms. Each room was basic with a bed, foam mattress, table chair and one wooden window and door. The toilet was an outdoor besser block structure with a hessian sack for a door, facing the crystal clear lake. It was a beautiful sight every morning. The room cost us $10US for a month. And it came with a scorpion in the roof as a bonus!
Breakfast at your door
When I went back to the other side of the lake to meet Jessica and her travel companions I now knew what fare to pay on the ferry. They like to charge more to tourist who don’t know the fare. So I gave the correct fare for all 4 of us, wadded it up and handed it to the man with a wink.
It seemed though that things had changed even in the few years since I had visited. Whilst on my last visit there had been some grass around, now cocaine seemed to be available and I saw many a traveller more zombie than human, I guess from too much coke.
Despite that, which we were not interested in, we had another wonderful stay. We were hanging out with a couple who taught themselves to juggle whilst we were there. It was so cool to see, and in the end one could juggle and the other take the balls mid-air and continue without a break.
Quite a few times when we went for lunch if you ordered a chicken sandwich you had to be prepared to wait because they literally killed and cooked up the chicken for you on the spot. There was another local fellow who had a stall on one of the dirt paths near our room and he said anytime you need anything just knock on the door because I sleep in here. Talk about desperate to make a sale.
We met a Scandinavian guy there who had walked across Ecuador, which is about 600 miles. He ate old fruit and veg from the markets and said he could drink water from the side of the road. He had been really sick in India and since then had a cast iron stomach. We threw in a few dollars each and he cooked for us one night, using water he scooped up from the lake, as the locals did. It was nearly midnight when we ate this slow cooked meal but it was good.
Another interesting person we met was this young American sociologist who was researching the link between babies born with a thin skin cowl on their head and their abilities in what I guess you would call the sixth sense or premonition. She was a little out there and sounded like she was having a good time with her research grant for her thesis. She had her own tea which was this big bag of mixed leaves or some such. She seemed perplexed and amused as to why she was always stopped at customs and asked about it…..
The top of the Volcano at Lake Atitlan
The Mayan ball courts with sloped, facing sides. The captain of the winning team had his head chopped off, and that was an honour….