das bloog.

Lago Atitlan, Antigua, Semuc Champey, and Lanquin

An action packed couple of weeks have occured since my last post. We last spoke when I was hanging out in Antigua before heading off to Lake Atitlan again to meet a group of friends. Covered in bug bites and happy to get back on the road I left the comforts of Antigua. Lake Atitlan was even more beautiful than I had remembered from my first trip there and I was excited to have the opportunity to spend almost 5 days in sponging up all its glory. Pefect timing led to a long awaited reunion with my new amigos and the fun began. 2 days in San Pedro, 2 days in San Marcos. Id like to describe in more depth these two locations but the line for the computers in the hostel is quite long and I can only fend off these dirty looks for so long. Long story short (for now): There are some crazy people living in these lake towns. Crazy people who once lived amongst the civilized but after facing an abundant amount of, warranted, ridicule they decided to live out/extend their glory days high on drugs, meditating, and pushing/scaring the local populations up the hill.

Other than those entertaining encounters we all had a great time! Something also happened sometime while I was at the lake. My Continental flight from GUA-Houston-LAX took off, I sadly was lakeside and unable to get to the airport. 

Next stop was Antigua where we spent one night in transfer mode before a 6 - 8 hour drive to Semuc Champey, the gorgeous limestone baths of Central Guatemala. The drive was, well, 6-8 hours but rather spacious surprisingly and I was able to finish my 6th book of the trip; John Grisham’s King of Torts. I am now currently reading The Chamber which is an easy read but a little heavy. Sunbathing lakeside and the death penalty don’t necesarilly mesh well together.

Semuc Champey was gorgeous and everything we had hoped for. Waterfalls, limestone pools spilling over into more pools, tubing down rivers, and continuing the theme of doing very little on a day to day basis fit right into our already busy schedule of doing the exact same thing.

We spent two nights in a hostel at the foot of the entrance to the park and then moved to Lanquin. Lanquin was a bit less secluded and we stayed in a hostel along the river. Half the group left to go to Tikal but I stayed behind for 3 more days of smoothies and hammocks.

After exhausting El Retiro Lodge in Lanquin we headed back to Antigua to eventually part ways. Jason and I headed to Nicaragua and our friends returned stateside.

Bus Schedule:

2:30AM-Board empty, private shuttle to Guatemala City .. Arrive 3:30AM

4AM: Depart Guatemala City for Managua, Nicaragua

4AM-9AM: Agressively head bob in and out of sleep, waking from time to time due to sever whip lash or contact with window or human shoulder. Also find out that watching movies while riding in a bus make me considerably nauseous and instead have to listen instead of view movies like: The Tooth Fairy starring The Rock, Only by Accident starring Amanda Bynes, The Central American version of Ocean’s 11, and I love you, Man.

9AM: Arrive San Salvador, El Salvador and deboard bus.

9:15AM: Watch bus drive away.

10AM: Board, along with other confused passengers, the bus we arrived on.

10AM-7:30PM: Stop for a snack, Stop for lunch, Stop for gas. Sleep, get nauseous, sleep, etc.

7:30PM: Arrive Managua.

Feeling quite sick but excited about the scheduled rendesvouz with Bridget Carney I mustered up some energy and headed to a bar. A fried chicken basket later and I was in Bridget’s arms. Instantly making the bus ride and the Tooth Fairy starring the Rock completely worth it!

Ive left Managua and am in Granada now where I will be meeting up with the group of students from Canterbury who are on their annual trip to Nicaragua to work with the Fabretto Foundation. Lots of fun stuff planned with Bridget and then off to Costa Rica. Update soon!!

Monterrico, Guatemala

On the Pacific Coast of Guatemala, close to El Salvador border lies a fishing village by the name of Monterrico. Here you can soak up the sun aside turtle hatcheries and sip tropical beverages and watch the sun go down after a long day of frolicking in the ocean.

Well that’s what the guide book said. Yes its on the Pacific Coast and yes its close to the border. A fishing village would insinuate the catching, export, and/or consumption of fish, none of which takes place. There was a lot of talk about a turtle hatchery but it was either abandoned, shut down for the season, or in an inaccesible section of town (which isnt that unlikely). Yeah, we had some tropical beverages but the sunset often slipped behind massive clouds long before it was dark. And to frolick in the ocean would be to risk death in the vicious rip current that ravages the shoreline every 30 seconds.

After being robbed silly by three seperate chicken buses we were asked to get off in Taxisco and to wait for another bus. This was completely unnecessary but it seemed as if the cousin, brother, or cousin´s brother of the bus assistant approached him and asked if any foreigners happen to be on board and if they had any clue about what was going on. Because the answer to these questions were yes, and no, nary a one, we hopped off and then were convinced into riding in a taxi to the dock where we would then have to take a boat. All transportation difficulties aside we made it to the ocean.

We arrived at Johnny´s Place, a sad attempt at a beach getaway, dropped our bags and headed to the bar. My travel acquaintance has been battling Montezuma´s Revenge for a few days now and was afflicted by the “I dont think I can finish this” bug, which leaves me well fed and quite happy! Meals out of the way and we hit the hotel pool that had just finished being filled and tried to escape the muggy heat that permeated the air.

Side Note: I have fleas. Bed bugs/Mutant night crawlers have been buffeting for weeks now on my flesh. I am covered in bites and have accumulated quite an array of skin tones and textures.

The bugs were relentless here as well but the wind kept them at bay for a few hours before hunting season come night fall. Nights were relaxing and spent in a hammock or in the pool, a much deserved rest after a day of doing the exact same thing.

I did manage to walk the beach a few times to burn off the calories consumed from eating a meal and a half at every sitting, washing it down with a large tropical beverage. Said walks consisted of running as fast as possible to the shore to avoid blistering the soles of my feet on the black sand and then stopping aprubtly to avoid being slammed by a rogue wave. Speaking of rogue waves, RIP my camera. A sad day occured this week when the Canon stopped working after an encounter with a large ocean spray. I am hoping it needs a little R&R and will be back up and running in no time but the likelihood of that is slim. Mental images, mental images.

The last picture taken for the Canon. Aforementioned ‘attack’ wave is effectively plotting its strike on the far left.

So here I am back in Antigua again, enjoying some civilization and an escape from flying mosquitoes (The ones in the beds dont ever leave). I will be heading to Lake Atitlan tomorrow to meet friends and the adventure continues…

Update soon. LOVE AND MISS!!

Additional Updates

• I did not bring a brush to Guatemala and have only been able to run the teeth of a comb through these dirty locks on 4 occasions
• I would send a picture of this but I also didnt bring my camera cord. Large facebook upload to happen upon my return.
• My return: I have a flight departing Guatemala City on Tuesday March 9th. I will not be on that plane. Instead I will spend another month here in Central America eventually making my way to Nicaragua to visit the lady, the legend .. Bridget Carney.
• I have written 3 postcards to Mom, Dad, and Edward and Hawley respectively but have and will most likely not send them, if ever, until my return. Just know my intentions are good, execution poor.
• Love and Miss all of you that are reading this!! Send me emails and the like, it makes me look popular and loved when Im giggling and smiling through my internet session while my friends apply for jobs and stare disheartenedly at a blank inbox.

MAN OH MAN! Where to begin. Since departing from Xela I have been having a love/hate relationship with Guatemala.

First stop: Santa Anita, a small coffee cooperative (not so cooperative since they all more or less hate each other) in the Western Highlands of Guatemala. There I participated in the daily routine of:

7 AM: Breakfast of boiled bananas which if you havent had the chance to enjoy I would recommend it. They have the texture and taste of boiled feet and are complimented quite nicely by instant coffee. Thats right, instant coffee on a coffee plantation.

8AM - 12:30 PM (Yep that´s 4.5 hours): Weeding. Enough said.

Smiling ear to ear? Or fighting back tears? You decide.

1 PM: Lunch. Sometimes delicious, sometimes a variation of bananas.

1:15 PM - 7:00 PM: absolutely nothing. I did have the opportunity to read 3 books and watch 2 movies in my 5 days there.

7 PM: Dinner. Who knows what I ate.

This was repeated almost exactly everyday Mon-Thursday. Friday I left to visit my friends who were studying at a Spanish Language school a few towns over. I was ecstatic to see them and to get a few solid hugs, laughs, and inappropriate conversations out of my system. So many hours on my hands and knees in a coffee field, inside my own head is not healthy for anyone.

A night with good friends was much needed. The next morning we all headed seperate ways.

Second stop: Antigua, Guatemala. A 4 or 5 hour trip via chicken bus (or 3) dropped me off in a bustling market. It wasnt long before I was awed by the beauty of the Spanish architecture and dilapitated ruins scattered around the city. Unfortunately I could only keep my eyes above the heads of all the foreigneres for so long and soon had to face the reality that this town is a bit like the Disneyworld of Guatemala. The streets just a little too clean, the culture forced, and not enough stray dogs for my liking.

Here I met up with Jason, an amigo I met in Xela. We left Antigua yesterday for Monterrico, a small village off the coast of the Pacific Ocean. Our original intention was to head North to the beautiful caves of Shemuc Chimpay but found the explanation of traveling there in our trusty guide books a little too confusing and instead decided to head South. Natural caves and hot springs or a trip to the Pacific Coast for a relaxing week on the beach … How does one handle decisions such as these!? Its been tough to say the least.

Moving On

Tomorrow I will say goodbye to my home for the last month, Xela. Goodbye to the women in my hostel who may or may not hate my guts, and goodbye to a city that I have exhausted in every possible way. (In a good way!)

Tomorrow I will be traveling West to a small coffee and banana farm called Santa Anita La Union (www.santaanitafinca.com) There I will be doing volunteer work and I have plans to stay for at least a week. I know very little about what I will be doing there, what sort of living accomodations exist for me and where each meal will come from but I am hoping all of these things will quickly become apparent upon my arrival. This being totally dependent on the fact that I find it. I have an idea where it is, sort of.

My last week of school commenced last night at the graduation dinner. Each graduating student usually prepares a speech or song or any sort of entertainment that expresses gratitude and sadness about their departure. I followed suit and said a few words about my time at the school and accused the student in front of me of stealing the speech and song I had prepared.  I did this only because he sang to the tune of the national anthem a song in Spanish about the school and all of its great qualities. A song I would have most definitely been able to whip up had I had the time and vocabulary.

I had requested to spend another week with the teacher I had the second week, Ailsa. I fantastic woman who has given me so much gossip about the teachers, students, and staff to get at least 3 people fired. I will of course keep these juicy tidbits to myself but I have found them to be great icebreakers when appraoching new students. “Hi Im Kellen, How is your frist week? Did you know your teacher had a baby with one of her past students…” or something along those lines. We also took a special trip to a bookstore to buy a dictionary of vulgarities. The book has brought many hours of entertainment to my friends and I and has almost tripled my existing vocabulary and pool of comebacks. I wont give an example.

We had another great week together with homework consisiting of urban legends, tongue twisters, and riddles. Remember this is all in Spanish. Describing to my teacher the legend of Big Foot (Gran Pie), Hansel and Gretel, and the boy who cried lobo (wolf), turned out to be quite the challenge. I love her dearly and will miss our 5 hours a day together. She is an amazingly strong woman, as are all Guatemala woman, and has opened my eyes to the injustices that they face, and have faced for generations. I hope I can in someway help her to provide a better life for her children even if it is only by telling the Guatemalan story to those who may not know it.

Tonight is the birthday of one of the other students which will almost certainly be great fun. My last night in Xela, but I am excited to head to the mountains and get some fresh air and some manual labor under my belt.

Con Amor!

San Marcos de Laguna

Moving day was last Friday. The next morning at 7:30AM a group of us met in the center of town to catch a mini bus to the bus depot, Minerva. There we would find a fleet of school buses, hoping one of them was heading toward our destination. A 45 minute trip dropped us off at Los Encuentros. Here we would board another bus to Panajachel, the main town on Guatemala’s Lake Atitlan. Upon arrival in Panajachel we dodged persistent vendors and city tour guides to find lunch at a restaurant along the lake. Cheeseburgers, milkshakes, and guacamole went beautifully with our final form of transportation, a boat ride to our destination, San Marcos de Laguna.

We arrived in San Marcos around 1 and weaved through lush paths of coffee and avacado trees that led us to our hotel. A beautiful eco-chic hotel called La Paz. Splurging for a two, 4-person bungalows, we dropped our bags and relished in the fresh air and stark constrast to life in Xela.

We explored the “town” which consisted of narrow dirt paths leading to yoga houses, holistic meditation centers, and local vendors. Much of the lake has been takn over completely by foreigners and most of the restaurants and hotels are owned accordingly. There is a strong resistance from the local population to eliminate the dominating foreign presence but very little has been done to appease it. Foreigners=$$$

And $$$ is what we brought! Looking at our trip like a little vacation we ate lunch and dinner at some great restaurants, enjoyed a cerveza looking over the lake, and walked around aimlessly until it was time for our scheduled trip to the sauna. A rough 24 hours to say the least.

We spent the next morning trying to think of reasons to stay in San Marcos but the Super Bowl party in Xela was calling us back.

Our first step in returning to Xela was to take a boat to Panajachel. The boat was the popular form of public transportation to and from different destinations on the lake. This particular boat was packed with locals traveling from a church service back to their villages. Along with them were 4 or 5 street dogs that I later concluded, that at least 3 were claimed by another passenger. The smell of wet dog and BO lingered in the air but the views were beautiful and there is something about traveling amongst the locals that makes me feel like staying indefinitely.

After a 25 minute ride with the constant splashing of contaminated lake water in our faces we stepped off in Panajachel to catch a chicken bus back to Los Encuentros. The Guatemalan mass transit system is supplied almost entirely by Blue Bird (http://www.blue-bird.com/). These buses were built for the average 5-10 year old and has a maximum capacity of roughly 100. There may be a few young children on the buses now but for the most part we’ve doubled the maximum capacity and stocked it full of adult Guatemalans. Chairs made for 2-3 adolescent bodies are not crammed with large bums spilling into the aisles and any free space available. Our first chicken bus back to the Xela looked a lot like the above description but a little bit worse. Stopping for us at a nondesignated stop along the road, and assuming it was heading where we wanted to go, we jumped in. Looking down the size 0 aisle for a place to sit down, we shimmied into chairs occupied with 2 people and made ourselves comfortable. My two friends in front of me, being large adult males were basically sitting on each others lap for the hour and a half ride where I was able to balance nicely in the aisle, suspended in the air, entirely by the pressure pushing me on both sides by my seat mates.

After a few stops and the deboarding of 10% of the bus we were able to make some moves. I stayed in my seat but the departure of two other people made for a bit more room. It must have been a long weekend for most of the other bus patrons because it seemed to me that everyone was sleeping or trying, painfully, to get a quick nap. The swaying of the bus moved the sleeping bodies in an undulating mass through the hills along the Pan American highway.To resist this flow would be to make 5-7 other people more than uncomfortable.

I was lucky enough to be sitting next to a young boy who was the appropriate size for the seat. It wasnt long before he was sleeping on my shoulder and before I could finish daydreaming about adopting him and all of his friends his Dad slapped him awake and we had arrived in Xela. My heart is overflowing for the people here and I cant think of enough reasons not to stay.

Our trip to the lake was more than a success and it was a much deserved weekend get away. Our trusty, pseudo-travel writer, Britt figured out that we spent between $40-$50 US the whole weekend. Its hard to think of reasons why someone wouldnt want to make a life for themselves here. This thought was reitorated when we spent a very American evening watcing the Super Bowl in a restaurant called Dos Tejanos (Two Texans). Not knowing who was playing before I got to the bar I quickly became the Saints biggest fan and we sang “..When the Saints, go marching in…” at every opportunity.

This week I have a new teacher at school and we are getting along famously. I have moved on to the subjunctive which means as much to you as it does to me. Hopefully today I’ll get a better idea about why I need to memorize 45 irregular verbs and an entirely new tense. Ill make sure much less time passes before I upate again.

Te echo de menos!! (I miss you)

Casa de Elena - Casa Hostel

Wow! I have really been lacking on updating for all of you and I apologize. I have lots to talk about like: my weekend trip to Lake Atitlan, life as a student, the food, and moving out of my host family and into a hostel.

Lets start with the move.

I very much enjoyed living with a host family and the guaranteed (sometimes) 3 meals a day. My host mother was very sweet. A great apartment with a private room and bathroom off the living room seemed ideal as well. Nothing about my experience there or my family influenced my decision to move out. Instead, it was more the feeling of resentment from my host mother permeating the walls and affecting each bite of food I had at their table. Mom was tired, all day, everyday. She owns a store underneath the house that is open everyday from 10 AM - 10 PM. A high pitch bird screech would indicate a customer was at the store front and looking to buy anything from a piece of gum to a bottle of rum to a homemade meal, prepared by Mom herself. I assume that bird haunted her dreams, much like the sound of my alarm on a day of early morning Ram Van.

Taking every opportunity possible to be out of the house and away from the stress that seemed to surround her like a cloud, I wandered the streets of Xela most days until lunch, ate, and then left again 45 minutes early for school. In order to give myself a little more freedom to come and go as I pleased, I moved into a hostel across the street from the school. For Q210.00 a week (rougly $25 US), I have a private room which is perfect. My nightly romps around town with fellow students are complimented nicely by the thought that I wont be disturbing anyone if I wander back at a slightly unreasonable hour.

I appreciate very much the hospitality of my host family and Im glad I was able to spend some time living with a Guatemalan family during my time here.

El Fin de Semana

The end of the week, into the weekend was action packed! The school arranges a full schedule of trips, allowing the students to get out and see more of Guatemala. Thursday´s trip sounded fun but I unfortunately decided to take a few extra hours of sleep after a night of heavy consumption. An unproductive morning led me to my daily Spanish lesson at 2PM. My teacher, Rosario is great she was a social worker in the 70´s in Guatemala City and a teacher at the school here for over 19 years. She had been knitting a scarf all week so much of our conversations were centered around this ´bufanda´and how and when she was going to get it done. Thursday´s class was cut a little short due to the scheduled soccer game that night.

Every Thursday Oscar, a fantastic human being, piles us into his mini van and we head over to what we assumed would be a soccer field. When we pulled up to the basketball court already packed with the first group of students, we knew things were going to be a little messier than anticipated. Split into 4 seperate teams of 5 we started a fast paced, sloppy game of soccer. Immediately feeling like I was about to pass out I had to take a breather while I struggled for air 8,000 feet above sea level. The games were fun and we played for about 2 hours, rotating every 20 minutes or so. Taking it, obviously, much more seriously than the others I played as hard as possible, dependent on how much oxygen I could take in.

After the game a few of us went out to dinner and then called it a night. Friday morning was an early morning trip to the San Francisco market. The biggest open air market in Central America.

An hour or so trip, on another American school bus dropped us off in mayhem. Our guide took the 12 of us through claustrophobically small areas of vendors until we reached the animal market. The animal market is a large open space at the tail end (pun intended) of the massive expanse of stalls and booths. Some of the highlights of this particular section was the sale of: roosters, puppies, huskies (enjoying their guatemalan lifestyle), cats, cows, goats, pigs, and pretty much anything else you can think of. My favorite moment was when a woman bartered her way through a pig purchase abruptly ending with the salesman opening a large sack, tossing the pig in, and the woman tossing the sack over her shoulder and heading home. We saw it kicking and heard its gut wrenching squeals until she was out of sight.

The rest of the market consisted of a lot of the same things, those things being primarily junk. Im assuming this market is considered the largest only because of the acreage in which it covers and not the quality of the products sold. But if you´re in the market for used shoes, nintendo game controllers, or a new pair of Levi´s San Francisco has jsut what you´re looking for. I purchased a delicious piece of fruit called a zapote which is somewhere in between a papaya and an avocado. I bought it just to break the large bill I had brought and couldnt use to pay my ´chicken bus´fare back but the fruit was delicious and the other vagabondish travelers of the group were excited to try it.

We returned to the school in time for lunch at our respective homes and then we were off to class again. After class was the graduation dinner for those students completing their studies. Alcohol and beverages provided by the students and food by the school contributed to a fun evening that carried on quite late. My host family wasn´t particulary thrilled to open the door for me at the obnoxiously late hour in which I returned.

A couple hours of sleep and we were on our way to the beach for another school excursion! Tulate is a small town 3 hours from Xela. We parked the bus by a small intercoastal type thing that we had to take a 7 second bus ride across. Leaving the boat we walked to a beach side restaurant and put all of our things down. We had been warned about the strength of the current and waves but dove right in hoping the very large Guatemalan lifeguards in extremely small swim wear would be able to notice if one of us were in trouble.

The day was great. Some quality fun in the sun with good company. In high spirits we all headed back into the van. The trip to the town was around 3 hours but the ride back took quite a bit longer as our bus overheated 2 or 3 times during the journey. A five minute wait seemed sufficient enough for him and we all piled back in. Everyone was exhauted by the time we rolled into town but we forced a dinner and a trip to the bar just to say we tried.

Sunday was a free day for us but I tried to fill it with as many activities that would keep me out of my house and away from the forced conversation with my host mom that has been a steady theme for the past week. This included a morning hike up Baul, a moutain overlooking Xela with a park at the top. Quite a few failed attempts to find our desired path and we were eventually on our way. We made it to the top and walked around passing a Guatemalan wedding and what looked to be some sort of mass going on. We sat at the lookout point for awhile and conveniently were still sitting there when the religious festivities concluded. We were brought tamales and tea by the group and were very grateful for the offering. Thinking very little about the source of the tea water or any reason why I shouldnt drink I gulped it right down. Once these thoughts crossed my mind, any bacteria that may have been living in it had already made a happy home somewhere in my system. (No sign of them yet!) We took in the view and enjoyed the fresher air atop the city until we decided to head back down.

Coffee, a Walmart size superstore, aimless walking around, dinner, and a beverage filled the rest of the day and I finally made it home just in time to say “Buenas Noches” and hit the sack!

Another week starts today. I´ll have a new teacher and new students have arrived. I´m hoping for the same sort of busi-ness that ensued last week and am excited to repeat some of the same activites. I´ll be keeping you updated on all that is going on!

Reaping the Benefits of the Guatemalan Landscape

A school organized function brought us, via public transportation, to Las Fuentes Georginas (see picture below). About an hour long trip from Xela, we took an American school bus to a town called Zunil where we deboarded and piled into the back of a pickup truck. Grabbing on for dear life to what I assumed was the roll bar, we climbed through the beautiful landscape of the Guatemalan countryside dodging cows, horses, and children.

Away from the city, the hillsides are dotted with patches of land broken up by the crop being cultivated. This particular area was covered with cabbage, lettuce, onion, and potatoes. Much of these vegetables are primarily for sale in the local markets and can not be exported. The land that is used for exportation (the money making land) is owned by the upper class which makes up 2% of the population. 80% of the most fertile, flat, arable land in the country is owned by 2% of the population and the farmers that work there barely make enough to provide for their families. The other land that is able to be farmed on is primarily used for crops that will feed the farmers´families and local community. This land lays against the sides of mountains, sometimes requiring the farmers to climb thousands of meters just to tend to the crops.

Those farming the area are usually all able bodied members of the community (men, women, and children of all ages). The rights of the indigenous people here in Guatemala have been abused for generations and very little is done to reverse this treatment. The government is made up almost entirely of the wealthy land owners who reap the benefits of international exportation and most likely have no intention of redistributing the land to provide for the people of their country. Although the hardship the Guatemalan people face is seemingly neverending, they continue to be hardworking, kind, and generous people to all.

As visitors to Guatemala we have all been welcomed with this attitude and are very grateful to be in such a beautiful place. Speaking of beautiful places, back to the springs.

Much of the group consisted of students that all had just met each other a day or two before. It being only Wednesday, there had not been a lot of time prior to this trip for genuine introductions and chatting. While traveling, many people are alone and have very little time to be shy or guarded. This being said, others are starving for attention and the adoartion of the group. I, falling somewhere in the middle, toned down my usual sarcasm and dry humor to allow some time before the others thought of me as cold and a bit of a bitch.

The 11 of us, all excited for the benefits of a good sulfur soak were in high spirits during the journey and even more so as we approached the baths. No time for insecurities or hesitation, due to the total lack of hygenic activities in our daily lives, we jumped in. Actually, it was really hot so it was more of a slow, painful, meander into the pool.

We spent an hour at the baths and got to know each other as well as other locals and travelers there. Changing out of our bathing suits and into some dry clothes we headed back down the mountain via our trusted pickup truck. The town at the bottom of the mountain sits surrounded by mist covered mountains and the towering Volcán Santa Maria. The ride down provided a beautiful view atop all of these natural wonders and we rode in awe of the unique landscape.

Back on the school bus we made plans for the evening. After our classes and dinner with our host families, free salsa lessons were being held in town at a local club. Long story short: lots of silly dancing, dos o tres cervezas, and lots of ridicule for tone deaf-rhythym lacking foreigners (myself included).