Down the Lake to San Juan

Down the Lake to San Juan        February 29, 2016

               Embarking for a mini-vacation in San Juan.

Two weeks ago, after finishing our Spanish sessions in Panajachel,  we "vacationed" in San Juan la Laguna, a town on the opposite side of Lake Atitlan. The lake is the deepest in Central America, surrounded by 3 volcanoes on one side and steep cliffs - an escarpment - around the rest of the lake.  It was formed thousands of years ago when a caldera, created as a result of volcanic eruption, filled with water.  The results are stunningly beautiful.  There are several towns (pueblos) on the lake, a few accessed almost exclusively by boat.  The whole area is populated by two or three Mayan groups.  In recent years the area has been invaded by foreigners, creating their own little nirvanas and pushing the indigenous people aside in some places.  In other places, the newcomers try to learn the Mayan ways. Like the towns around Portland, Maine, each town on Lake Atitlan has its own personality or vibe.

The dive school/resto/hostel, La Iguana Perdida (the Lost Iguana), in Santa Cruz.

Santa Cruz, not far from Panajachel, is the small pueblo where Bruce and I had celebrated his birthday earlier in the month.  Santa Cruz boasts a dive school, run by a British/American couple, and additionally has a couple of kayak rental places and the sweet eco-hotel where we had stayed, as well as the beautiful AirBnB where we stayed on Bruce's birthday weekend last year.

San Marcos, farther down the lake, is filled with new-age folks of all nationalities, seeking enlightenment of one kind or another.  We took a boat there for a few hours one day with a fellow traveler.  The walkway from the lake to the town center was the best infrastructure that we had seen, with smooth, unbroken cement tiles.  The town center is one of the prettiest, with a huge tree shading the indigenous women as they sell their wares.  This is one of the places where the culture of the newcomers, with their nudity on the lakefront and their open drug use, has clashed with the more traditional lifestyle of the natives, who fear for their youth.  Cutting off the water supply to the offenders (along with a very well-worded statement that we saw posted publicly) sent a pretty clear message.  We wandered a bit, had a nice lunch, and then returned to San Juan.  But not before we noted all of the workshops for reiki and yoga and meditation and Mayan studies. 

               Tom and Bruce kicking back in San Marcos. 

San Pedro, within walking distance of San Juan, is the "party town", populated by lots of young folks covered with tatoos and piercings and smoking various substances.  It's a bit gritty and busy.  Hostels are plentiful, as are restos serving vegetarian and middle eastern meals.

Santiago is the largest town on the lake.  It has an amazing history stretching back to Spanish colonial times, in this case the 1500's - and before that to even earlier Mayan times, I'm sure -  as well as a recent history of tragedy and resistance during the civil war (mid-1960's - 1996), described a bit in an earlier blog post.  There is a boat-building tradition here. 

            A cayuco, a local boat, along the shore in Santiago.

San Juan, the town where we stayed for a week, has the reputation of being less touristy and having more civic pride than many of the others. Wonderful wall murals tell the history of the town, as well as depict Mayan traditions.  Women have come together to create weaving cooperatives.  Only a few restos exist. 

One of the lovely wall murals in San Juan, this one depicting the process of picking coffee beans.  

Teresa, a member of a women's weaving coop, demonstrating her art in San Juan. 

On the advice of a couple of acquaintances, we had chosen to stay at another "eco-hotel", Mayachik.  It was located on the edge of town, at the foot of a steep high hill.  Although Isla Verde in Santa Cruz was also an "eco-hotel",  this one was more primitive, more "eco",  That one had a lot of charm.  This one "is still finding its footing", as one reviewer politely described it.  There were positives about it:  the pretty grounds with lovely plants, the privacy of having our own very large house with a hammock on the porch, the feeling of safety there, the great resto with a delicious all-vegetarian menu and huge portions of food. 

Our casita (instead of being a "little house", it was pretty big). 

The amazing pancakes at Mayachik, loaded with fresh fruit. 

Shiny coffee beans, glistening in the sun, just outside the window at our rental.  

                     A small, lush corn field near Mayachik.

 The down-sides at Mayachik included the iffy hot water shower which initially didn't work:  the shower water was neither hot nor even existent for a couple of days.  The compost toilet was a bit smelly.  The house was large but not very comfortable, filled almost exclusively with beds.  For Bruce especially, the biggest downside was the noise at night.  Stray dogs laid around in the sun all day, it seemed, and came alive at night to bark at every little provocation.  In the dark wee hours of the morning, busses and boats honked their horns loudly, reverberating throughout town.  They were followed by roosters crowing, as dawn approached.  After the roosters, it was sometimes workers sawing down trees in the woods surrounding the compound. Needless to say, Bruce didn't have a good week for sleeping.  

The best part of Mayachik was the opportunity to meet other travelers with fascinating tales to tell.  We connected with three of them, all Americans, as it turns out.  

Katie is a young Middlebury College computer science grad who has an IBM-Watson fellowship for a year-long study of textile traditions, ANYWHERE in the world (outside the US)!  Being half-way through her year, she already has amassed some amazing experiences with knitters in the Shetland Islands of Scotland & northern Norway, and with the Sami people of Finland.  Now she is in Guatemala to learn weaving techniques from Mayan women.  Ahead for her are Bolivia and possibly Ghana.   She writes a blog that you can access at:  www.weaveofabsence.blogspot.com.  

Caroline (Caroleena, en espanol) is an attractive hippie woman, our age, from New Mexico.  She has been traveling around Central America for several years and is now looking for a place to settle.  She is knowledgeable about sustainability and plants and yoga techniques (as well as website design), has studied in India, is culturally sensitive and interesting.  

Tom is also our age and an inveterate traveler.  In fact he has owned a travel company, has been a history teacher, is reed thin and a bike rider, and hails from Denver.  He's also extremely well-read and liberal in his politics - as is most everyone here :).  We had some great conversations with him.  

And our last person "of interest" was Emilio.  Emilio is the young Guatemalan cook at Mayachik, but he also has his own resto where he serves falafel and hummus.  Had I understood his Spanish correctly?  Falafel and hummus in a Guate resto?  Turns out that he had perfected his cooking skills at a resto in San Pedro, the party town.  He invited us to try out his place, and we did - of course!  On a map, he had shown me how to get there.  Bruce and I did a scouting mission first and ended up on a dusty, pot-holed dirt road that ended in a ravine.  No resto in sight.  Some women were sitting on steps.  When I asked, in my best Spanish, if they knew Emilio, they brightened up and called a cute, seven-year old chica to lead us there.  Entering a long, very narrow, dark alley, she skipped gaily along.  We took a breath and followed.  In a couple of minutes, the alley opened up and, like a royal announcer, she was yelling out, "Emilio! Emilio!".   Soon another little girl asked, "Emilio? Es mi tio!" with a big smile and such pride, letting us know that she was related to this famous uncle.  Emilio emerged, wearing a big grin, too.  We looked at the menu and made plans to eat there another day.  A couple of days later we returned with Katie and had a delightful meal in an airy, open wabi-sabi type of place, furnished with worn cushions on wicker furniture.  

Bruce and Katie enjoying a meal at Emilio's secluded resto. 

So, with our trips to two other pueblos and our meal at Emilio's place, lots of reading and chatting, as well as a brief visit to a weaving cooperative where we learned from Teresa about growing, spinning, dyeing, and weaving of cotton, our week's adventure slipped by.  Tom returned home.  Caroleena was getting ready to leave. Life is very fluid on the road. 

As our own departure day approached on Saturday, our thoughts focused on the lake.  The wind had whipped up at the end of the week.  After a very scary, bumping, rolling voyage getting to San Juan initially and another getting back from Santiago one day, we were nervous.  A long-term ex-pat advised us to go as early as possible to avoid the Xocomil wind that comes up regularly in the afternoon.  We left by 8 am and had no trouble!  

  

The lake was calm on the day that we left for our return to Pana. 

It was delightful to return to Ana and her comfortable home for our last five days in Pana.  We're in Antigua now for a week.  Then we'll fly home to Maine for one weekend to prepare for our trip to Europe and our long hikes.  It's a hard life but someone's got to do it :) !  

Ixcanul

Ixcanul       February 28, 2016

Today I am excited that we have reservations to see a Guatemalan movie, Ixcanul (Ish-can-OOL), which we heard quite a bit about last year.  It is Guatemala's first movie ever entered into competition for an Academy Award - which it didn't win :(. It did, however, win a top prize at the Berlin Film Festival last year!

The writer and director, Jayro Bustamante, is a young man who grew up in Panajachel and whose mother is a dear friend of "our" Ana.   The movie tells a sad story that takes place in a pueblo near Antigua.  The main characters are two Mayan women, mother and daughter.  There was lots of excitement in Ana's home last year as these two actors, plus Jayro's mom - and others, I'm sure - flew to Paris, and then to Berlin for the awards ceremony.  Ana helped her friend choose a wardrobe for the wintery weather in Berlin.  Dressed in their traditional clothing, the Mayan actresses were a big hit.  The younger of the two, a very beautiful woman, was not a professional actress, and she wears the traje and huipl every day at home.  One can only imagine the experience for her to leave her tiny village on the slope of a volcano, overlooking Antigua, and travel to the glitter and attention of a cinema festival in a European city. 

We are so fortunate that the movie is being shown at a hotel right around the corner from us here in Antigua.  Since much of it will be in Kaqchikel, a Mayan language, as well as Spanish, we are also lucky that the powers that be have chosen to include English subtitles for this particular show - on the very weekend that we are here.   Muy bien!  

You can google Ixcanul and learn more, and you can see a trailer on YouTube at this link:    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMMP0Z21zqU

Flores, Flores, Flores!

Flores, Flores, Flores               February 22, 2016

Bruce and I love gardens.  Visiting them, wherever we happen to be traveling, is one of our pleasures.  We have visited Botanical Gardens in such varied places as Ooty, India, and Edinburgh, Scotland, and Boothbay, Maine, and Madrid, Spain.  Now we can add Panajachel, Guatemala, to our collection.  This one holds up with the best of them.  When we started out this morning to find what we had heard were some nice gardens at lakeside Hotel Atitlan, we couldn't have imagined how gorgeous they would be!  My pictures only hint at the splendor!  

                                                          A magnificent topiary!

                            Flowering potted plants ringed the swimming pool.  

Charming paths, some bathed in sunlight, others shady and cool, wound through the property. 

Lots of rose varieties, some with fun names.

Exotic birds in cages, like this toucan, enlivened the gardens with their loud squawking.

There was an entrance fee of $7 each, and we wondered if it would be worth it.  Two hours later, when we pulled ourselves away to return to Ana's for our mid-day meal, we were basking in our good fortune to have discovered this place.  It's a former coffee finca (farm), now turned into a lovely hotel for "discriminating travelers".  That lets us out :).  We're just happy that outsiders are allowed onto the beautiful, immaculately cared-for grounds for a look-see!  

Feliz Cumpleanos

Feliz Cumpleanos                        February 16, 2016

The day began well (and unrolled beautifully) that Friday, February 5.  Candelaria and Gregorio, the owners of Jabel Tinamit Spanish School, had somehow figured out that Bruce's birthday was about to happen. They had ordered a beautiful birthday cake and surprised him with a little fiesta during break time, including singing Happy Birthday in Spanish "Feliz Cumpleanos".  It was a very sweet and thoughtful gesture.  Bruce was definitely pleased.  

That evening, Ana, our host, had enlisted Natsumi, our young Japanese housemate, to cook us a Japanese meal.  Natsumi is in Guatemala for 2 years, working in a program supported by the Japanese government, a bit like the Peace Corps, as I understand it.  She often cooks her own meals.  Natsumi had rushed home from her work that evening and immediately had begun preparations.  

Ana had already done the sous-chef job of chopping garlic, ginger, scallions, chicken, etc.  It was fun for me to be the extra sous-sous chef.

In very little time, we sat down to a delicious meal of miso soup and chicken with a ginger sauce.  I had ordered a blueberry pie - Bruce's favorite - from Mike, an American cafe owner here.  His South African wife had baked it.  Ana supplied a lovely white wine, and Bruce managed to find some music on his smart phone.  It was a delightful beginning to his birthday weekend. 

The next morning, Bruce's actual birthday, we headed to the Lake Atitlan waterfront to catch a "lancha" for the nearby pueblo of Santa Cruz.  Bruce had made arrangements to stay for one night at Isla Verde, an "eco-hotel/resto" on the edge of the lake.  The boat was full of passengers, and the lake was very choppy.  The wind had been blowing a gale for a few days, even ripping the rusty tin roof off a building near Ana's house.  On the water, waves splashed onto the folks in the front of the boat, necessitating that they pull a sheet of plastic over themselves and some bulging bags of produce.  Most of us were protected from the waves, sitting under the canopy of the boat.  

We arrived in Santa Cruz, and then it was off by foot to Isla Verde, which sits further along the lake.  A haphazard route, some of it on land, some of it on rickety boards suspended above the water, led us there. Luckily, we had only backpacks with us.  Rolling a suitcase would have been absurd!  

Not for the faint of heart or anyone with balance issues!  We passed a few really nice homes, a small field of coffee plants, and a kayak rental place before arriving at our destination.  Isla Verde is made up of little casitas, built into the side of the very steep mountain that rises sharply from the lake's edge.  Our bungalow was situated high up and was accessed by many, many stone steps that wound their way through a lovely wooded area.  We got our work-out getting up to it.  Along the way were a spacious yoga/meditation building overlooking the lake and, further along, a tiny massage room.  We passed an outdoor altar for the use of guests, with small statues of Buddha and St. Mary - something for everyone - set among flowering plants.   An old cayuco, a wooden canoe used by indigenous fishermen, had been given new life by being hung like a swing for use as a hammock.  We would be back to the cayuco!  

Our little house, when we finally arrived there, consisted of one simple but charming room with an attached bathroom, down a few steps.  The "eco" part of the equation was the shower, fed by a solar hot-water heater further up the mountain.  The view of the lake was stunning from the front porch and from almost any point on the property. 

The wind had continued to blow hard all day.  That evening it was wild, trees rushing back and forth, whirling and whistling.  At dinner time, Bruce and I made our way carefully down the stone steps with a flashlight.  Eating outside on the lakeside porch was not an option, and we settled ourselves inside with a view of a cozy fire in the fireplace.  A classy young couple from Omaha sat at the other end of the table, and we chatted a bit with them.  The staff, including the young American owner, his British manager, their friendly, funky Canadian waitperson and a handful of Guatamalteca employees, were all helpful.  Bruce's meal ended with a special birthday touch.  

That night the lights of the other little towns around the lake twinkled brightly in the dark.  Strings of settlements, high on ridges along the sides of the mountains, invisible in the daylight, popped out like sparkling bracelets. Above us, the sky was studded with stars.  Muy romantico.  

We spent our 24-hour get-away reading and relaxing, eating a couple of good meals and drinking pineapple smoothies and Moza beer.  Isla Verde had all the necessary ingredients for kicking back. The weekend had been filled with interesting encounters and the kindness of others - all in all, just the kind of celebration that Bruce loves.   

Here are few more shots of the birthday boy.

Saying Good-bye to Carmelina and Jabel Tinamit

Saying Good-bye to Carmelina and Jabel Tinamit                February 13, 2016

Carmelina, center, and two other teachers making pico de gallo for our Valentine's Day fiesta. 

Our formal Spanish lessons at Jabel Tinamit Spanish School here in Panajachel came to a close yesterday with a Valentine's Day fiesta. The vivacious owners of the school, Candelaria and Gregorio, had organized a pot luck party.  All of us, students and staff, had been invited to bring our favorite dish to share.  On an open, airy third story area, the table groaned with typical Guatemalan dishes, such as guacamole & chips (our offering), tamales wrapped in banana leaves, chuchittos wrapped in corn husks, enchiladas, chiles rellenos (stuffed sweet peppers), pepian, fresh fruit, fried bananas in chocolate sauce,  cookies, homemade raspberry ice cream - and always, tortillas.  What a feast!  

 Candelaria (on the left) and some of her staff, announcing the Valentine's Day fiesta.

                       The table laden with Guatemalteca delicacies!

It was also the last day with my young teens learning English.  They lapped up this wonderful meal with gusto!  Great kids.  I will miss them, too.  

    My young teen English students, on the rooftop garden terrace of the school, with a view of a volcano.

 After a month of daily lessons, Bruce and I had been looking forward to the last day of school with a typical end-of-school stew of emotions:  relief that the daily work was over, excitement at what lay ahead, and sadness at letting go of this experience.  For Bruce, it was mostly relief, truth be told.  For both of us, it's been very satisfying to have a growing ability to communicate.  But also, para mi, it's the relationship that has made me look forward to school. For four weeks, I have sat with Carmelina for two or three hours every day, Monday through Friday, discovering Spanish conjugations and vocabulary and trying to plant them in this aging mind.  I have amassed a total of 50 hours of one-on-one time with Carmelina.  She and I know each very well!  Her patience and good-humor are enormous!   She has waited respectfully while I have sifted through my mental backlog of words and endings and expressions in order to put together a thought.  She has racked her brain asking me questions about my life, questions that would allow me to practice my skills by responding.  We have laughed together at my mistakes that inadvertently have communicated some really silly ideas. All of this has occurred while we have shared the very real aspects of our lives and our little every-day events.

      Carmelina holding the rose plant that was my parting gift to her.

It has not been one-way, by any means.  I have loved hearing about Carmelina's life in a small pueblo with the delightful name of Buena Vista (good view), high up on a plateau that overlooks Lake Atitlan.  I've learned about her Mayan family, her schooling growing up and her on-going studies to become a certified teacher at a nearby university, which she attends on Saturdays.  She has told me about her burgeoning business creating lovely purses to sell, about her family's struggle to earn a living and to progress toward a better life.  Her family has no refrigerator, which means that her mom goes to market 2-3 times a week.  In between these trips, her mother creates lovely woven textiles with a backstrap loom and sells them at the market.  One day Carmelina brought a loom to school (they're very portable), and let me try my hand at it.  As fellow teachers, Carmelina and I have shared ideas for teaching English to my little group of young teens. Over time, it's been like a daily chat with a good friend, structured skillfully and seemingly effortlessly by Carmelina to include verbos especiales and two types of past tenses and various other intricacies of the Spanish language.

 Oliver, working hard in the school library, where we have our English class.

Studying at Jabel Tinamit has given Bruce and me a welcome structure and purpose for our days here in Guatemala.  I still have years of study in order to even begin to approach fluency.  But I can make myself understood in a rudimentary fashion - and I can understand even more of what I hear.  School has also allowed us a social life through meeting other students and has certainly offered us a deeper understanding of life in this beautiful but difficult land.   Muchas gracias, Carmelina y Jabel Tinamit!

                   Papaya tree and fruit on the school terrace garden.

           An interesting white bird of paradise in the school office.

Please let me know any thoughts that you have about this post - or any other, through my email:  lwebb34@gmail.com.  Thanks!  

Down a Notch or Two

Down a Notch or Two       February 8, 2016

 

It had been going along so well.  I was feeling good about teaching the little English class.  It was only twice a week and only four kids, at the most:  2 girls who had been coming to class since the first day, one brave boy with spotty attendance, and then last week a new girl had joined us.  They were working pretty hard and seemed eager to be there - as eager as 12-13 year olds can be at 9 am after a long trek on a bus - with their regular school still facing them in the afternoon and who knows what other life issues.  Last Wednesday, only the three girls showed up.  Oh my goodness, were they silly and inattentive!  They yawned and whispered and wiggled and giggled.  I tried to redirect them, and they kept right at it.  I began having a flashback to my days at Gorham Middle School when, as a teacher assistant, I had been traumatized by seventh graders who'd had a food fight in the cafeteria.  

Earlier in the week, I had been thinking of how I would miss these kids when Bruce and I finish our time at Jabel Tinamit, our Spanish school.  Suddenly, I began to be thankful that there would be only 3 more classes with them!  This was hard work.

After class, back at Ana's house, I reviewed the situation and decided to create a few games to help them practice English.  They had become obsessed with a Bingo game that I had made, and games seemed to be their preferred learning mode.  

When the next class rolled around, last Friday, I was ready with two new games.  It turned out that we were assigned to a new space, a more public area.  Other teachers were coming and going.  For whatever reason - the new space, the new games, the blustery wind, the moon - the girls were much more subdued and attentive.  And, when it came time for our break, tostadas and Bruce's birthday cake were being served!  Now all was right with the world.  We finished up our class with photos and renewed good feelings.  But they had shown me that, even though they are only 13 years old and speak a different language, they have the power to bring an adult gringo down a notch or two - and maybe rightly so.  In any case, they are sweet kids and I WILL miss them, come Friday when we finish our time at Jabel Tinamit.