martes 9 de mayo

martes 9 de mayo,

hmmm. what can I tell ya? have managed to let quite awhile slip by this time. I remember how consistently I was keeping up on this blog when I was in Antigua. I was comfortably immersed in a routine that included time for writing either in the afternoon if I planned to go out, or before bed if I’d stayed in. once I was in san pedro, my routine still kept me writing pretty consistently, but since then there has been no routine at all, and boy do the days slip by. oh well, I suppose it’s good to have periods of routine mixed with periods of its lack, so I’ll just see what I can do avbout catching up.

I left off apparently when I was in coban. from there I took a bus to lanquìn, which is a tiny little town about 40 miles from coban, but the roads are twisty (it’s hard to write “windy” and mean they wind around, because of course it looks like they blow, if you see what I mean, and somehow tortuous seems too cliché or hi-falutin’ or both maybe… for roads like these) and so, it’s almost a two hour drive to get there. of course it’s not just the roads that slow down the travel, it’s also the fact that the bus stops frequently to pick up and drop off passengers and their pets along the way. it was a very colorful trip.

the town itself is little more than a central square surrounding a park, with a few streets shooting off for a few hundred yards before disappearing into steep foliage filled cliffs and hillsides. the main street that passes through the town travels roughly north/south. if you continue south for about six miles you’ll get to semuc champey, which I’ll tell you about in a minute. if you backtrack (towards coban) about a half a mile or so, you’ll get to las grutas de lanquìn – the caves of lanquìn, which are the main tourist attraction here, although really the main reason to visit lanquìn, seems to be that it’s on the way to semuc champey. so, I arrived, spilled out of the bus, dropped my backpack at the first hotel I saw, which incidentally was clean and cheap, but its nearness to the bus stop was its main selling point, and headed off to the caves.

the walk to the caves was beautiful, along a treelined unpaved road. the caves were dark, cool, and slippery with condensation and bat shit. I had them completely to myself and was warned by the guard at the ticket shack that I only had an hour, because they couldn’t run the generator that powers the lights for longer than that for just one person. not having a watch, I took a photo as I entered, which allowed me to see the time according to the camera’s clock on the LED screen. I didn’t think they’d really turn out the lights with me still in there, but having read tom sawyer, I didn’t want to take any chances.

I took photos throughout the walk, as much in an attempt to capture the feeling of being there and the fascinating forms of the rocks, as to keep an eye on my allotted time. the first few hundred yards were sorta sparsely lit with bare bulbs spreadalong a line about one every dozen or fifteen feet. they seemed like forty waters, but to be fair, were probably 100’s – the main point being that it was pretty dark, would’ve been absolutely dark if the power had failed, and except for the bats, I was alone. nevertheless, after the first few minutes,I got accustomed to it and, while somewhat cautious – didn’t want to break a leg or slip and become concussed – had a good adventure and explored the lit part thoroughly. I arrived at the end of the light bulbs after about forty-five minutes and so, hurried as much as sure-footing would allow back to the entrance, which took much less time on the way out (not stopping to take photos, or examine rock shapes) than it had on the way in. I didn’t take a final shot as I emerged, so I’m not certain what the time was, but I think I made it with minutes to spare. as I walked past the guard and waved a goodbye to him, I noticed his assistant scrambling up a bank towards the generator switch to turn it off… so they probably would’ve waited for me afterall.

that left me with most of the day left to relax, which is what I did. I walked several periodic laps around the town, but there was little to do. once I stopped and bought water, once I stopped and bought an orange soda, twice I stopped and ate a meal. nothing vegetarian on any menus, but I found a friendly senora in the restaurant closest to the hotel who would whip me up rice, eggs and beans anytime of day and provide me with a huge stack of corn tortillas, all for 10Q – 15 with an orange soda. in between those little excursions, I lounged in my room reading, and maybe typing a couple emails to be sent later.

the evening was surprisingly loud and boisterous. the town was so sleepy and quiet during the day, I was kind of surprised to hear it wake up at night with loud music blaring from someplace… which might’ve been a vehicle that was occasionally stopping and then driving a lap around the square, because it would be loud for awhile and then fade away and then pick back up… that theory made more sense to me than the one where the volume was just inexplicably raised and lowered. that went on for an hour or so and then died down, but voices continued out in the street ‘til well past 2am. I couldn’t tell what they were talking about.

the next morning, which I just figured out must’ve been thursday the 4th, I found my way to semuc champey. there’s no real organized way of getting there, well actually there sort of is, but it’s not really scheduled or posted. the method that I used, which worked well, was to simply pack my bags, go out on the street, and wait for a truck heading my way. while waiting, I stopped in for breakfast at my friendly lady’s restaurant, and by the time I was done, spotted a pickup truck that was loading passengers into its bed.

the road was bumpy and windy (tortuous, not blowing) it was unpaved and sloped steeply off to the sides. there was really only a little more than one lane’s width of flat road in the center, but somehow there was room for big oncoming dumptrucks to pass unhesitatingly (but heart-stoppingly, for me anyway) to our left. we climbed up a series of awitchbacks that left us looming over the tiny town distantly beneath us, and then wound our way through some heavily forested area with everything from pines to coconut and banana trees, eventually coming out into scorched hillsides intended for crop planting – probably corn, judging by the steep fields already being cultivated. eventually we arrived along a river and I disembarked at las marias, which is the one spot to stay overnight close to semuc champey itself, which is a national park, or preserve, I’m not sure what term they use.

I checked in, got a dorm room (25Q) that had four beds, but ended up having it to myself for the two nights I stayed there, so that was good. electricity at las marias is scarce, and the generator is turned off at 10pm and doesn’t come on again until some undefined time late in the morning… or maybe afternoon, I never quite figured it out, because I wasn’t really around - in my room, it only took the form of a bare bulb by the door that allowed me to see my way to the bed at night. the walk to semuc champey is a hot and parly uphill three-quarters of a mile. once in the park there’s still probably another half mile to reach the pools, but the scenery throughout is beautiful.

the pools are formed by a series of waterfalls that spill down the mountain. the water gathers between each and rests in shallowish spots before continuing down to the next level. when I say shallow, that doesn’t mean that you can touch bottom everywhere, but most of the pools do have places where you can, but also spots that might get as deep as three or four meters… perfect for swimming and diving. the biggest waterfalls drop into some of the coolest water, which is hidden from the sun by the cliff overwhich the water is falling (if you see what I mean) the result is that you can swim underneath the waterfall and be warmed up by the sun-heated water from above. it was lots of fun and I played and swam for a couple hours before heading off to explore what else the area had to offer.

on the way into the park, I had noticed a sign that simply said “mirador” and pointed up a path. I ignored it for then, being anxious to check out the pools, but went back to it after my swim. it took me up an incredibly steep ascent straight up (well, there were switchbacks, and occasionally wooden steps) the side of the mountain. I climbed and climbed and climbed for an unbelievable distance, wondering if I would eventually find the top. eventually I did, and the path leveled out and began to slope back down uneventfully. but then, just as I was thinking, that’s all there is to it – a good work out – the path opened up into a little ledge that looks steeply over the pools far below. it was incredible, and well worth the hike. I have a photo, I don’t know if it really shows the steepness and the distance as well as I’d like, but I’ll put it here anyway.

I sat there for quite awhile, resting from the climb and looking down at the tiny people so far below, seemingly cool and relaxed as they swam and lolled in the bluegreen water. I had intended to be done with swimming for the day, but after the hot and sweaty climb, the water looked so irresistibly inviting that I had to go back for more. my second swim ended up being even longer and more adventurous than my first and I definitely pushed my limits of swimming against currents and climbing up banks and leaping off ledges. it was fun and exhilarating.

oh, one interesting aside, that I almost forgot to mention. as I walked up the path towards the mirador turnoff after my morning swim, I encountered a group of a dozen (maybe fifteen) grinning teenage boys dressed in cami’s and carrying machine guns. they greeted me in a friendly way, and having grown accustomed to heavily armed security, my only thought was that it seemed excessive for such a tranquil place to have such overly prepared park rangers. I forgot about them while I was up at the mirador lookout, but when I came back down, I noticed one standing sentry over one of the pools I had swum in earlier. I thought, maybe I had inadvertently been in a restricted zone, and was glad I’d gotten out before they arrived. but as it turned out, I found somebody to ask about it and was informed that none of the pools were off limits and that the guards were there because the first lady (that would be oscar berger’s wife, not george bush’s) was coming for a visit. so there you have it, I found my way to pretty much the most secluded spot I could and end up arriving on the same day as the first lady of Guatemala. by the time my second swim was over a few hours later, she was there, as I walked towards the park exit. surrounded by fawning dignitaries and an impressive entourage, all well guarded by inconspicuous and heavily armed kids lurking amidst the green background. from what I could see the mrs. berger seemed very nice and had a pleasant smile, although her husband sounds like a real piece of work… as national leaders often are. outside the gate (ok there isn’t really a gate) there was quite a crowd waiting for a glimpse of her as she exited. there were tv crews with big cameras and a news helicopter. also there were parked four or five very official looking suv’s which were the first lady’s and entourage transport. all very exciting and dissonant.

made some friends that night over dinner. a trio from the basque area of spain, near bilbao, who were just finishing up six months of volunteering at a school in xela (actually two were teaching, the other was a nurse and so probably not at the school, but I’m not certain) very nice people, I enjoyed talking with them. also befriended an English couple – sam and kate – who had been traveling around the world for eleven months and were due back in another month or so after working there way up through mexico to visit an aunt in LA. I played an odd sort of cardgame with a vulgar name that I’ve forgotten… maybe asshole, but that’s not quite right.

the next day I went fro a swim in the river directly across from the hostel, challenging myself to swim across, which was a bit daunting as the water was kinda deep most of the way and the current, while not too strong added a factor of concern. it felt good to risk it though and also good just to swim in the coolish water. after doing that for some time, I borrowed an innertube from the hostel and floated downstream. I successfully navigated two rapids and then started thinking about the potential difficulty of the return and so headed back upstream. it did prove pretty tough going to get back through the rapids - had to wade part of it, and pull myself along against the current by grabbing rocks – but once through that part it was just a matter of staying near the bank where the current was lighter and paddling with my arms ( and sometimes legs as well). it was a pretty good workout and left my arms sorta sore and heavy for a couple days.

back at las marias, I spent the afternoon reading a pretty bad novel, written in 1980 and trying to anticipate the coming digital age… interesting really only in a historical way… hard to believe that none of us really new what the future held in store back in those days before mtv, pc’s and the internet… so I can’t really hold the author at fault, but it was a pretty poorly written book otherwise… but of course I’m the one that spent an afternoon reading it… and I guess I enjoyed for the simple fact that it was a book and it was written in English, and that has become rare treat lately.

the three from spain had left that morning, so I hung out with sam and kate that evening and also a girl named melody from austin texas who had arrived. there was also a girl from norway, who’s name I didn’t catch and two guys from england, one of whose names was sam, which I remembered because of the strangeness of two sams being in such a small group – both English though, maybe it’s a more common name there, I don’t know. anyway, it was a pleasant evening. I thought about catching the five o’clock shuttle to coban – especially when I heard that it was actually a 6am shuttle because it was sunday, but then as I was going to sleep I realized I couldn’t because I hadn’t yet paid my bill and if you’re leaving early you must pay the night before… so that was a good excuse to sleep in. which proved a good decision – not the least because a large group arrived in the middle of the night and caused quite a stir… never really got the story on where they came from and why they would be arriving at one in the morning.

I got up later than I’d intended, partly because of the noise in the middle of the night and partly because it was only just then sinking into my mind that Guatemala – or maybe just some of it (?) had finally gotten around to switching to daylight savings time… I still haven’t gotten it figured out and as of this writing, simply don’t know what time it is. as I arrived in the restaurant area though, sam and kate were just ordering breakfast and so I ordered to despite noticing that a truck was already there and might presumably be heading to back lanquìn. sam and kate confirmed that suspicion, but said the driver had told them to go ahead and eat first. so we did. the breakfasts there are not great, and I thought as I was eating that I probably would’ve been better off waiting until I got to my friendly spot in lanquìn, but as it ended up, it was good I ate when I did.

the three of us, along with a handful of locals, had an adventurous ride into lanquìn, held up at one point for roadwork and an amazing bit of driving when we finally maneuvered around the big backhoe. a minibus to coban was waiting when we arrived, and so I got straight into it. it ended up only taking me just outside of town, where we all switched into another. there I met a girl named Karen, who is from the arctic area in northern Canada. I had no idea until talking with her that the northwest territory had split in two and that a new Canadian province had formed out of the eastern half. the entire province has a population of about 25,000 (80% inuit) and the town she’s from only has about 800 people. she works with special needs kids, but lately has been behind a desk rather than working directly with the kids, and now is just beginning a year of volunteering with a couple different schools in central and south America. all very interesting and the conversation made the trip to coban go quickly. once there, I decided to walk her to the bus station since it would be the same one I’d be leaving from the following day to go to Guatemala city, and so it seemed both polite and a good opportunity to scout it out, but by the time we got there, I decided that really I might as well just continue on to the capital anyway, as long as I had somebody to talk with. so I did that.

Karen was on her way to copan, so switched buses about fifty miles outside of Guatemala city. I continued on and held my breath through a lot of highspeed truck passing and lane switching and generally scary bus riding, but got to the capital in one piece and was glad to see that the bus depot was one of the ones in zona 1, only a couple blocks from the hotel fenix, where I’d stayed before. I was made welcome there and it feltlike a homecoming, and I found that melody, from Austin texas, was checked into my old room, having taken my advice both that Guatemala city was worth visiting and that the hotel fenix was the place to stay. so that made me feel good.

I spent sunday hanging out in the city. I found the terminal de autobuses in zona 4, where the lonely planet told me I’d need to go to catch a bus to monterrico. it looked pretty disorganized and crazy, but at least I knew where it was, so I wouldn’t be hot and lost carrying my backpack, etc. the next morning however, as I left the hotel, the friendly guy at the desk asked where I was off to and I told him. he asked if I knew where to go and when I said to the terminal de autobuses, he said that the buses for monterrico didn’t leave from there anymore. so, with a fair amount of confusion, I finally got directions from him to the place in zona 12, where I needed to go. I had to get on a bus #51 (or #4 would also apparently work) and that would take me to the place. a girl on the bus told me when I should get off and where to go after doing so, otherwise I would’ve had a rough time. then as I walked along, trying to figure it out, the bus suddenly appeared sort of magically in front of me and a moment later I was on it. the downside was that it was three hours (to go about 75 miles) and I already had to pee by the time I got on.

the bumpy roads didn’t help my urinary situation and the crowded bus and the heat combined to make it a rough journey that seemed likely to never end. finally after a switching of buses, at which time, had I known more, I could’ve found a place to pee, we arrived at the dock in la avellana, from where you take a boat to monterrico. again I missed a chance to pee, but that time, had I looked for a place, I might’ve missed the launch and I’m not sure when the next would’ve been. the launch left pretty much as soon as we all got off the bus and loaded ourselves onto it. I spent the surprisingly long trip concentrating on resisting the almost unbearably urgent need to pee as the gentle waves lapped fluidly against the sides of the boat, and the vibrations of the outboard motor traveled through the wooden planks of the boat making what seemed a direct connection with (and dangerous temptation for) my bladder.

after visions of going down in local legends as, “remember that gringo that peed himself on the launch to monterrico? man that was soooo funny!” and concern over the possibility of finding a reasonably priced room when arriving with a pee soaked pants front, we finally arrived at the montrrico dock. I hurried to the first place that looked even a little like a restaurant and asked for a bathroom. they pointed me down a sidestreet to another place. I saw a sign that said WC and had the little man/woman international pictograph there and so, although it looked unlikely - just several people laying around under a thatched roof – I went inside, where a woman agreed that she had a bathroom, and for only three quetzals I could use it. I would’ve gladly paid a huindred times that, despite the fact that it would’ve left me with almost no cash on an island beach resort with no bank. I quickly dug in my pocket, found the three coins, left my bags outside the door and peed happily for several minutes.

feeling immeasurably better, I thanked the señora and went off in search of a place to stay. I walked by one place that advertised 40Q per night sunday through thursday, which was about as low as I’d been led to expect, but with my newly relieved bladder, I felt like I might as well explore a bit. my search didn’t really reveal anything that looked better, so I eventually doubled back and found myself the happy occupant of room #14 of whatever the name of this place is, I’ll have to pay attention the next time I go out. it’s easy to spot because it’s right next door to the internet place, so names aren’t too important.

after checking in yesterday, yes, that’s when it was, just yesterday, so we’re almost caught up here. I headed out to the beach. this is an ugly, litter-filled town with sad neglected dogs, lazy from the heat, lounging on the shady areas of the black sand. that said, the beach once you get a little away from the town itself is beautiful. and the ocean is amazing. it’s the pacific and it feels like the pacific and yet it’s very different from the pacific back home. it’s like seeing a new and completely unexpected side to a lover you’ve known for years… at once exciting, but tinged with a feeling of betrayal. the water is warm, more than warm, close to body temperature, as is the air… wading out into it is like moving into another medium of density, but not of heat. the surf is dramatic with huge waves breaking a little too far from shore to ride in. the rip tide and undertow are dramatic in most areas, complicating and making more dangerous the waveplay… and of course lifeguards are unheard of, as are, this time of week/year anyway, other bathers, so you’re on your own.

after an afternoon swim and a refreshing orange soda, I went in search if vegetarian food. pretty tough to find, but I did finally locate a restaurant that would provide my with a veggie pizza after 6pm… which was apparently 7pm according to what I’d come to believe local time was, but I really can’t tell anymore. I waited until what was either 6:30 or 7:30 and walked back over. the pizza was great, and I washed it down with a liter of beer (they were out of the small size) but throughout the meal I was continually attacked by mosquitos. amazingly, I seem to have emerged unscathed, and won’t step out after dark here again without my repellant crema applied generously.

my room has a fan and a mosquito net, but the night was long and hot. there was a thunderstorm around 3-4am, but while loud enough to wake me, it didn’t cool things off. I’ll go for a swim now and take some pictures later and post this sometime this afternoon. tomorrow, I’ll go somewhere, but it might be back to Guatemala city or maybe to Antigua, I need to look into transport options today. either way, my real destination is xela, which will finish off my list of places I feel compelled to visit. after that, I’m not sure where I’ll finish out the month.

I hope you’re all doing well, and if I’ve been out of touch with you – which is almost certainly the case, it’s not because you’re not in my thoughts.

later:

I didn’t get around to posting this… long story, or not… let’s just call it laziness… no, let’s call it procrastination… whatever we call it, I’m putting it off til tomorrow or the next day. I went out and took photos, but the truth is they’re not great… I went out this morning with my camera, but only took a couple of shots and none of the waves, even though they were big. it was overcast and I thought it would clear up and so I waited. after writing the above, I went out for a swim, but didn’t bring the camera as I didn’t want to leave it on the beach__ not that anybody else was there and not that they would’ve taken it if they’d been, but it just seemed like I shouldn’t take it. anyway, the waves were still big and while I had fun, it was impossible to catch anything good… I rode a few, but caught them so close to the steep shoreline that they weren’t great rides. finally I went out with the camera in the afternoon, but by then the waves had died down and all I ended up shooting were dogs and pigs… and a few chickens. I guess I took some shots of the waves and I’ll probably post them, but they really don’t show how virulent this coast can be. oh well, believe me and use your imagination… think big waves, breaking late, carving a steep sloping shoreline and creating a crazy riptide… oh and did I mention the sand is black?… as if in perpetual mourning, I guess… if johnny cash was a surfer, this’d be his beach.

oh, bytheway, just in case my brother is still printing this off for my parents, I noticed yesterday that there’s a post office here and was going to send a letter that would maybe get to ohio by sometime close to mother’s day, which I think is next sunday, but god, or one of his assistants, only knows… anyway, for some inexplicable reason it was closed today… I don’t know why, so mom, if you’re reading this I’m sorry and I’m thinking of you and I love you and I hope you have a lovely mothers’ day.

oh, bytheway also… I checked with my friendly pizza making restaurant woman (had spaghetti tonight) and she explained “old time” which is standard and what seems to be on all the clocks still, and “new” time which is daylight savings and what bus schedules and computers seem to rely on. there’s no easy way around it, because unless you have your own watch set to reflect one of the two systems. you’ll never know which is which… so all’s lost as far as that goes.

time for bed. in the morning I’m gonna try to figure out what time I need to check out (la hora de salida, I believe) and what time the buses leave. I’m leaning towards Antigua, but I don’t know if I’ll spend the night or just try to plug away and get to xela… we’ll see.

oh, the final bytheway, today is (I think) either ann oliverio’s or jonathan wight’s birthday… I’ve gotten them confused… if anyone can help me out with that drop me an email. my guess is that ann’s was today and jonathan’s was yesterday, but it’s been a long time. I think kevin kennison’s was the third, and that’s even longer. I should do a search for him.

goodnight.

next day now, posting the photos, the connection seems to be failing, so I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead and maybe add the rest of the photos later. about to catch a ride to antigua - longish story... from there I can get to xela.