Musings on a Saturday in Panajachel January 23, 2016
As Bruce and I were walking along a serpentine alleyway leading to the bank today, dodging dog poop and broken places in the sidewalk, passing smokey little tortillerias with the familiar pat-patting sound of hands deftly creating this country's staff of life, I was thinking about folks I know who are wintering in Florida, riding bikes, swimming in pristine pools, strolling among lovely gardens. I asked Bruce why it is that we prefer Guatemala. We weren't quite sure, because we love to ride bikes and swim and walk in pretty places. We concluded that it just seems more interesting here.
I thought about our day. On our morning walk, we had passed an interesting house, billed as an art gallery, set back from the street, surrounded by trees, with a rusty, ancient Mercedes in front. I had heard that coffee might be served here. We peeked into the fenced yard, and a man beckoned us to come in. He was the owner and turned out to be a fascinating fellow with both German and Guatemalan heritage. He led us on an impromptu tour of his organic garden and then offered us a coffee on his porch, sharing his extensive knowledge of gardening, German history, current politics, and art. It was a most unexpected treat. We may return for Sunday brunch at some point.
Further along our walk, we stopped to sit on the curb and rest for a bit, watching life go by. Soon a couple of very young shoeshine boys spotted us, looking about 5 - 6 years old, grasping their worn black boxes that held the polish and cloth. Bruce was ready for them - with two of his Odyssey of the Mind pins from his 20 year old collection. He's been distributing them to kids all over the world for a while now. The unexpected gift took these two scruffy little waifs by surprise. They never even got a chance to ask to shine our shoes but went off with their new pins - probably wondering what THAT was all about!
Back at our homestay, Tabu, the endearing little dog at Ana's house, greeted us with his squeaky toy in his jaws, dropping it at Bruce's feet in a persistent invitation to play. We tossed it a few times just to watch Tabu's joy. At lunch, it was just Ana and us, since two of our housemates have returned home. Ana pulled out a rare delight, a half bottle of red wine and three wine glasses! We toasted the weekend and her daughter, Elo's, academic achievement in her nursing program.
Bruce plays with Tabu in Ana's front yard.
Later in the afternoon, after our bank business was done, walking along the busy main street, I paused at an open tienda to look at some ladies' shoes with impossibly high heels, wondering if they were new or used, wondering how anyone could hope to negotiate these uneven sidewalks and lumpy cobblestones in shoes like that. I must have had a bemused look on my face because just then, passing me on the sidewalk, a really old, slightly bent Mayan woman, about half my height, with leathery arms and the sweetest expression, looked up at me to say "hola". Something made us reach for each other's hands at the same moment. Her hands were so warm. In my faltering Spanish, I apologized for my cold ones and she responded with a big - mostly toothless - smile, "I'll warm them for you". And for a moment, she did. I wondered if she were going to ask me for something. But no. With an "Adios, amiga", she continued on her way.
I think THAT is why we winter in Guatemala.
I thought about our day. On our morning walk, we had passed an interesting house, billed as an art gallery, set back from the street, surrounded by trees, with a rusty, ancient Mercedes in front. I had heard that coffee might be served here. We peeked into the fenced yard, and a man beckoned us to come in. He was the owner and turned out to be a fascinating fellow with both German and Guatemalan heritage. He led us on an impromptu tour of his organic garden and then offered us a coffee on his porch, sharing his extensive knowledge of gardening, German history, current politics, and art. It was a most unexpected treat. We may return for Sunday brunch at some point.
Further along our walk, we stopped to sit on the curb and rest for a bit, watching life go by. Soon a couple of very young shoeshine boys spotted us, looking about 5 - 6 years old, grasping their worn black boxes that held the polish and cloth. Bruce was ready for them - with two of his Odyssey of the Mind pins from his 20 year old collection. He's been distributing them to kids all over the world for a while now. The unexpected gift took these two scruffy little waifs by surprise. They never even got a chance to ask to shine our shoes but went off with their new pins - probably wondering what THAT was all about!
Back at our homestay, Tabu, the endearing little dog at Ana's house, greeted us with his squeaky toy in his jaws, dropping it at Bruce's feet in a persistent invitation to play. We tossed it a few times just to watch Tabu's joy. At lunch, it was just Ana and us, since two of our housemates have returned home. Ana pulled out a rare delight, a half bottle of red wine and three wine glasses! We toasted the weekend and her daughter, Elo's, academic achievement in her nursing program.
Later in the afternoon, after our bank business was done, walking along the busy main street, I paused at an open tienda to look at some ladies' shoes with impossibly high heels, wondering if they were new or used, wondering how anyone could hope to negotiate these uneven sidewalks and lumpy cobblestones in shoes like that. I must have had a bemused look on my face because just then, passing me on the sidewalk, a really old, slightly bent Mayan woman, about half my height, with leathery arms and the sweetest expression, looked up at me to say "hola". Something made us reach for each other's hands at the same moment. Her hands were so warm. In my faltering Spanish, I apologized for my cold ones and she responded with a big - mostly toothless - smile, "I'll warm them for you". And for a moment, she did. I wondered if she were going to ask me for something. But no. With an "Adios, amiga", she continued on her way.
I think THAT is why we winter in Guatemala.
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