Well, I finally booked the flights for the last leg of my Central American oddessy. After a super-quick evening and birthday party in Chicago, I fly out in the early morning to Panama City, and return from San Jose, Costa Rica to Salt Lake mid-May to pick up my Jeep and belongings before…who knows? I have no specific plans beyond May 16th. 
It’s snowing in the UP–a lot, and I have mostly summer clothes with me–and I’m looking forward to a couple of weeks on the beach!
My brother Carl is working in China for a couple of months. His photos are here:
www.picasaweb.google.com/cjkauppi
To get to the page, copy the address and paste it into your browser–my web publisher won’t allow the link to work.
I’m back in the States for a couple of weeks, flying to Panama on May 3. Some family pics from Lansing:
http://picasaweb.google.com/eekauppi/Lansing?feat=directlink
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| Lansing |
The post below goes with these photos.
http://picasaweb.google.com/eekauppi/LifeInXela?feat=directlink
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| Life in Xela |
http://picasaweb.google.com/eekauppi/FuentesChichi?feat=directlink
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| Fuentes-Chichi |
This weekend, Aisha (from New York), Rasmus (from Copenhagen), and I had a full schedule of activities planned, from relaxing in the hot springs on Saturday afternoon to chicken-bussing it to the Chichicastenango market on Sunday. The hot springs were amazing–as you’ll see in the photos, the drive up is through farmlands, and I spent the short trip eyeing all of the lovely vegetables and hanging out the shuttle window to take photos.
Fuentes Georginas, the hot springs, are up in the mountains, just below the mist that rolls in each afternoon. They’re natural pools, fed by the spring, part of which is a hot mini-waterfall. The top pool is the hottest, and there are two others in the main area that get cooler. It’s like something out of a movie, with the jungle closing in and the steam rising off of the pools, and it was good to see that the Guatemaltecos use it just as much–if not more–than the tourists. Families brought picnics, and groups of people lounged around on the rocks. Other than a skinned knee when I–always a klutz–ran into a rock underwater, it was blissful. (I also missed a step coming down and almost fell on a kid. He looked alarmed.) I’d never been in hot springs before, and they act somewhat like a sauna–have too much and you feel ill. It was the perfect way to relax after a long week.
On Sunday, we hopped on a chicken bus to Chichicastenango, which has one of the largest markets in Guatemala on Thursdays and Sundays. It’s certainly huge–aisle upon aisle of everything you can possibly imagine, and plenty of gringos running around with cameras. As far as markets go, it was only so-so–I was more entertained by the big Xela market–but visually, it was stunning. Booth after booth of textiles in every color, with little Mayan women cooing, “Buen precio for you, amiga” at every turn. Buen precio, indeed. In a remarkable turn of events, I didn’t buy anything, but took plenty of photos.
The most exciting part of the day was the mad chicken bus ride on the way back to Xela. The bus driver sped around the crazy mountain roads, casually chatting with his helper as the passengers held on for dear life. It wasn’t so much a bus trip as a carnival ride, and I loved it. The sweet man sharing my seat kept trying to speak with me in Spanish, but his accent was so muddled that I didn’t understand a word, and finally resorted to nodding, smiling, and saying, “si, si.” Clearly not the correct response, and he probably thought I was a nut.
All the while, the ayudante (bus attendant) was racing up and down the aisles, collecting bus fare and shifting passengers around. At one point, I looked back to see him hanging out of the back door–which was open–while the bus screeched around sharp corners at top speeds. I had to clutch the seat in front of me merely to avoid falling into the aisle, and this man casually grabbed the ladder on the outside of the bus and climbed to the roof, scampered across the top, and reappeared through the open front door–while the bus was still racing along. Incredible. I told my seatmate that the guy was “loco,” and he merely smiled calmly, as if it was nothing new. Which, I suppose, it wasn’t.
This afternoon, we met in the park for some street food and procession-watching. It’s Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Central America, and there are all kinds of religious activities happening. The processions, which I think represent the stations of the cross, parade through the streets until they enter the main cathedral. Each consists of a crowd of local people in their best dress, a band, and a large statue of Jesus in one of the stations. We saw two this evening, and both involved a wheeled generator that powered the lights on the statues. The mood around the processions is peculiar; it doesn’t seem particularly reverent or holy or somber, but more like, “Oh, look, a procession. How nice.” There were far more people gathered to watch the student parade on Friday (see photos), which was not religious in the least. Perhaps it has something to do with the Mayan influence in Xela.
After the first procession went into the church, we followed to see what would happen. Nothing went on, but I saw a tiny woman in local dress kneel in a pew, pray, and get up to leave. Before she left, she made the sign of the cross, and then turned to a poster of the Holy Trinity, tapped each one, and made the sign of the cross again. It was such a simple, personal gesture, and absolutely sweet–I didn’t need to be Catholic or speak Spanish to understand how much emotion she felt for her church and the moment. Very lovely.
Processions over, we headed to a bar in the Pasaje Enriquez across the park to watch the UNC-MSU game. I’m not into sports–and especially not basketball–but it was fun to hang out and eat the best pizza I’ve had in Central America.
Not a bad few days.
Two of my favorite things about traveling are 1) other travelers and 2) having my laundry done.
Let’s talk about laundry. There are few things that feel more decadent than dropping off a big bag of laundry and, a few hours and a few dollars later, picking up a nice bunch of clean, folded clothes. No hours with the washer and dryer, no worrying about quarters or detergent. In Central America, where there are relatively few Western conveniences, this is a small joy that makes a big difference.
I’m about to go pick up my laundry, and I’m very much looking forward to clean clothes.
And now, on to other travelers. I realize it’s coming a week late, but last weekend was the best of the trip so far. After two weeks of relative isolation–what with the bus-riding and non-hosteling and puking–I was thrilled to be able to stay in a dorm and chat with other people. On Friday, I hopped a shuttle to Panajachel, the gateway town on Lake Atitlan, and caught a boat from there to San Pedro on the other side of the lake. No big backpack, no laptops to worry about, and no plans. Apparently, I’ve learned something from traveling in regions where I’m seen as a walking ATM–the boat driver tried to charge me (and a Polish guy I met on the shuttle) 300 quetzales (about $37) for the trip, and I got him down to 30. In Spanish. !!
Lake Atitlan is downright stunning. Someone famous–can’t remember who–once called it “the most beautiful lake in the world.” I don’t know about that, but it’s up there. (I’m biased toward Lake Superior) It’s huge, and ringed with towering volcanoes and picturesque cliffs. When the fog rolls in around 3:00, it looks like something out of Jurassic Park. Small towns are scattered around the banks, and a network of water taxis run from place to place. To catch one, you stand on the dock of your town or hotel and wave them down–an excellent way to travel.
On Saturday, I headed to Santa Cruz, where La Iguana hostel has a costume barbecue every weekend. Yes, costume. After checking into the open-air dorm (complete with a Willie Nelson photo), I raided the costume room with Maria from Germany. And that evening, I stepped out wearing shiny green leggings with stirrup bottoms (yes!) and shamrocks, a pink dress, and a flowered robe. And I forgot to take pictures! The barbecue was amazing, and it was followed by live music, and then a group of us sat around the fire until 4am, singing. Kind of surreal, actually, and funny that the only song everyone knew–people from 10 different countries–was by Britney Spears. Ridiculous.
Travelers are such a great joy–well, most of them. One guy from Texas was absolutely obnoxious, and insisted on wearing cowboy boots with shorts and a machete stuck in the waist band. After meeting him, German Maria said to me, “If I was an American girl, I think I’d die alone.” haha Most people, though, have such interesting stories and experiences, and it’s endlessly fascinating to learn about them. Rory from Ireland (in the “elegant blue dress”) is volunteering at a place near Antigua, and his accent disappears when he speaks Spanish. Shea from Israel has been traveling for 7 months and knows every word to “American Pie.” I can’t wait till I’m back in hostels–I’m not sure the convenience of an apartment makes up for the loss of fascinating people.
The sun was shining on Sunday morning, and I headed to the docks with a bunch of the previous evening’s singers, and proceeded to get a spectacular sunburn despite the layers of sunblock. Ow. I’m now peeling, and look diseased. Atitlan was perfect–except for Panajachel, where at least three men called me “Barbie”–I returned to Xela relaxed and happy. And armed with rude Spanish things to tell harassing men, compliments of a Guatemalan guy I met at La Iguana.
People have been telling me about Xela’s main market, and on Monday I decided to make the long walk there. On the way, I ran into an older Scottish woman I met on the shuttle from Pana to Xela, and she asked to come along. The market is absolutely enormous, a maze of rows of fruit and vegetables and literally anything else you could want. We stopped at one stand with at least 6 different types of mangoes–they were amazing. Everywhere we went, whispers of “mira, Gringas” followed us. No wonder–we were the only westerners in sight.
And after a week spent up to my eyeballs in website code, it’s the weekend again! Tomorrow, I’m going to visit some natural hot springs, and on Sunday I’m heading by chicken bus to the famous Chichicastenango. Oh, and I had another delightful run-in with theft–my debit card # and pin were apparently recorded at an ATM in Panajachel and used. I’m now out over $800, but should only be liable for $50 of it. Thankfully, I have a job to replace the money and I’m not on a backpacker budget, but it’s a huge inconvenience until the fraud investigation finishes and my new debit card arrives. Welcome to Guatemala.
Look out for hot springs and Chichi photos!