Tamsin and Campbell in San Diego: Guatemala

When we last left off, I was debilitated in Antigua with gastric issues after some dodgy nachos. Now, the saga continues:

I spent most of the first afternoon in Antigua alternating between catching up on some beauty sleep and the bathroom while the others went out and had a look around town. After I was feeling a bit better we went for another walk around the town. Antigua was the capital of Guatemala until it was destroyed by a series of earthquakes in the 1700s and the capital was moved to its present location. It is a UNESCO world heritage site and a really nice old town with cobbled streets and a lot of nice buildings. Its not like the other places we visited as it was very clean and there wasn’t a lot in the way of poor people around. There were quite a few people from Europe who had gone there to disappear it seemed. One thing we noticed everywhere we went was that there weren’t really any American tourists in Guatemala, most were from Europe, especially Spain or South America. The few Americans we did see were all of the backpacking crowd and a lot of them seemed to be disguising themselves with Canadian flags on their gear. Antigua was the first place we saw any Mayan people. In my ignorance I thought that the Mayans were long gone but about half of the population of Guatemala is ethnically Mayan. The women and girls wear traditional dress which is brightly coloured and intricately embroidered, but the men and boys tend to wear western clothing. There are a lot of ruined buildings in Antigua and we went to visit one that was a monastery that had been turned into a hotel. We also visited a jade factory and went to have a look around the market. The value for money there is second to none, so I thought I’d try and buy some new sneakers. Unfortunately, Guatemalans tend to be quite short and trying to find a pair of US size 12 shoes was an immensely amusing experience for all the shopkeepers I asked. After I watched everyone eat some dinner, we went to a bar with a man who slung fire and booked a trip for the next day up one of the three active volcanoes in Guatemala – Pacaya.

As we arrived at the bottom of the volcano the next morning we were met by the “taxis naturales” which were local guys with horses for lightweights to ride up the volcano. We got to an old lava flow and left the horses behind, then scrambled up the the loose sharp rocks of the slope which was a something of a trial. For each step up the mountain, I would slip about 90% of the distance back down. Eventually we made it up to the active vents and while we were there the volcano demanded a sacrifice. A rock Tamsin was standing on gave way and she cut her leg open trying to not burn it off it the lava flow beneath. As we were heading back down the hill, some Austrian git decided he needed to run down and caused a nice little landslide that buried Tamsin up to her knees. On an entirely unrelated note, the good thing about a country like Guatemala is that people can disappear and no one asks questions. Anyway, we headed back into Antigua, patched Tamsin up and had a quiet afternoon having a drink on the roof of our hotel and wandering about town.

The next day we caught a 6.30 shuttle to Chichicastenango which is famous for its market (number of sleep-ins past 7 am on this trip: 1, number of hot showers for me: 1). This was our first time out on the road really and it was an interesting experience. I’m sure the roads were governed by some laws or rules, but I couldn’t figure out what they were. While there was theoretically a speed limit (never higher than 70 kph) it seemed that it was more determined by how fast the road and the vehicle would allow you to go - on a rare stretch of flat straight road we passed a police cruiser going 110 in a 40 kph area. The chicken buses that the locals take between towns are a total menace and we almost got taken out by one going around a blind corner on the wrong side. Some Argentine puta called me a stupid American when I sat beside Tamsin after a rest stop in a seat which apparently was her father’s and her grandfather’s before her. Unfortunately it takes about 11 days for my brain to translate from the limited Spanish I know into English and back so I could not respond with a witty Spanish retort. Now I hate Argentinians because they are all racist. Chichi was much poorer than Antigua and there were a lot more kids roaming the streets and people in Mayan dress. The kids were pretty funny and shameless wherever we went. Whatever you had in your hand, they would ask if it was for them. Money, can of Coke, jewellery, whatever. The market was a very busy place and we immediately lost Joanna and Saurabh. We became very proficient in using the phrase “no gracias” as stopping to look at something at a stall or making eye contact with someone was as good as telling the owner that you were very very interested in buying a lot of stuff. We ended up doing a lot of haggling without actually trying as if you said that you weren’t interested in something, they just kept lowering the price until you walked away. It was not a particularly satisfying experience when you did buy something as they usually seemed quite desperate for a sale. Tamsin got herself a nice hand sewn silk tapestry while we were there. We headed back to Antigua and went out for a nice dinner for Eduardo’s birthday. We had some wine at a bar beforehand and tried to shout him, but his superior knowledge of the Spanish language meant that the barman wouldn’t take my money. This firmed my resolve to shout for dinner and fortunately between Tamsin and I we have years of experience sneaking out to pay for our meals before Mum and Dad do. This was my greatest achievement in sneaky paying to date, as I pulled the old “go to the bathroom and drop off the credit card” trick, but this time I had to use all the accumulated knowledge of my Spanish night classes to do it. I thought Eduardo or Bea may have been on to us at some point, but it turned out the Spanish have not become more difficult to deceive since Sir Francis Drake’s raid on the Spanish Armada.

The next early morning we headed off for Panajachel on the shores of Lago Atitlan. After we arrived there, we had some breakfast and I realised I had lost my wallet somewhere. After thrashing a couple of local kids for stealing it, I decided that it might have fallen out of my pocket in the shuttle and it turned out indeed it had. I explained this to the kids, and we all had good laugh about it. Well, not the unconscious one. We took a tuktuk to our accommodation which was an “eco-lodge” about 10 km out of town. Our driver was the biggest Guatemalan we saw and definitely had a few pounds on me, so we ended up having to tack up a few hills like a yacht heading upwind. The place we were staying belonged to the aunt or grandmother of the wife of a friend of Eduardo’s and she had insisted that we stay there. When we arrived there we found out that it was actually only open during the summer months and she had opened it up especially for us. It was a really nice place right on the shore of the lake. We caught the local taxi (a ute) back into town and had a wander around. The tourists in Panajachel tended to be of a hippie/stoner persuasion and the place was kind of touristy. I hate hippies more than anything, so I didn’t like Panajachel much. We saw a lot more really poor kids there. While we were having some lunch there, a stray dog had a go at one of the little kids that was selling stuff. Fortunately the wee boy wasn’t hurt but he was pretty upset so we gave him a glass of coke and a huge plate of potatoes that I would have struggled with, but he devoured them in no time. I also bought the little stuffed elephant he was selling, which I think he had been carrying out for quite some time as it was totally filthy. He seemed a little bit happier when we left. I haven’t seen poverty anything like what we saw in Guatemala and I found it pretty hard, especially the kids. What was interesting though was that there were no beggars anywhere we went. Everyone was hustling, trying to sell you something. While I thought this was an admirable trait, it started to wear Tamsin and I down a bit, because the best way to get people to leave you alone is apparently to ignore them and not make eye contact. We both struggle with this (even in San Diego I can’t ignore the homeless people when they talk to me (quick sidenote. The dwellingly-challenged people here are often quite amusing. One once asked me if I had heard about the shark attack that happened here last year and when I told him I had, he said “makes you glad you don’t live in the ocean doesn’t it?” Way to drop some perspective, brother)) and I figured the least I can do is say “no gracias” seeing as I’m on their street in their country, although this would just get them to follow you or hang around your table longer. I guess until I learn to say “Hey, you’re really bringing me down. Can you go and be povo somewhere else?” in Spanish, “no gracias” will have to do.

The next morning we got up after 7(!!!) and had a hot shower(!!!) before heading off across the lake to Santiago de Atitlan. A couple of km around the volcano from this town, a village was completely wiped out in an mudslide in 2005 and at least 200 people were never found. Santiago was much more Mayan than anywhere else we went and we even saw men wearing traditional garb, which we didn’t see anywhere else on our travels. We really only went to Santiago for the boat ride (very picturesque) and to see Maximo. Apparently when you go to Santiago you have to see Maximo and when you get off the boat heaps of kids tell you that they will take you to him. Our able guide took us on a disorientating journey through the dodgy, labyrinthine back streets and then pointed down a dark alley with his machete and told us Maximo was down there. Having come this far, commonsense wasn’t going to stop us from seeing Maximo and it turned out the ragamuffin was legit and as we stared into a room with three guys playing cards and smoking beside the wooden effigy that was Maximo it was all worth it. I still have absolutely no idea who or what Maximo was and why it was essential that we see him. I’m guessing I’ll never find out and it will probably vex me to my last breath.

We began our journey back to the good old US of A that afternoon as we headed back to Guatemala City. We arrived at night and not wanting to brave the unfamiliar city to find an eatery with suitably armed guards, we went to the only familiar place we knew, flashed our passports at security, and had dinner at the food court of the airport. The next morning we were up early again for our flight back to Mexico City, where we parted ways with the other four, who were on an earlier flight. Tamsin and I initially planned to take the Inappropriate Touching subway again and go to the pyramids at Teotihuacan, north of the city. Unfortunately by this time Tamsin had also contracted Monteczuma’s Revenge so we spent a fun filled 10 hours at the Mexico City airport reading, sleeping and running to the toilet and Tamsin dished out several brutal beatings to me in Last Card. We eventually arrived back at our apartment about midnight after a death defying drive down the freeway from Los Angeles swerving through all four lanes as I slept behind the wheel a large part of the way.

Overall, we really liked our week in Guatemala and I give it an A out 10. Despite all the barbed wire and men with guns we never felt unsafe and it has some really beautiful places to visit. The country is definitely struggling, even for Latin America, but its not surprising given that it is only a little more than a decade removed from the longest civil war in Latin American history and the sprinkling of attempted genocide that went with it. Despite the fact that life is obviously hard there, especially in the rural areas, the people were friendly and seemed to spend a lot of time smiling. My only complaint is that they need a few “Be a tidy quetzal” signs about as the roadsides were indistinguishable from rubbish dumps in a lot of places. I’ll let it slide this time Guatemala, but I want this mess cleaned up by the time I get back!

Places we visited

A church in Antigua. A neighbouring town has one that looks almost identical but in orange.

Coffee beans fresh off the vine

Man plays with fire but doesn’t get hurt. He does spray us in the front row with kerosene though.

Tamsin with Volcan de Fuego (left, erupting) and Volcan de Agua. Translated into English, they are called Volcano of Fire and Volcano of Water. They’re a literal people, the Guatemalans. The fields below are coffee plants.

Fuego erupting

Our guide up the volcano

It gets pretty warm around the vents of the volcano

The second time Frodo climbed the windswept slopes of Mount Doom, he had more company.

In trying to make my trip up the volcano as authentic as possible, I decided to contract a gastrointestinal illness and go without food for a couple of days beforehand. This photo was taken minutes before I collapsed and the dog started gnawing on my leg.

As you can see here, Guatemala has a real problem with gang violence. We stumbled down the wrong street and into this brawl between the Jets and the Sharks.