I arrived in Guatemala, Thursday, November 16, 2006, and returned home November 30.  Below are edited versions of some emails I sent to friends while I was traveling.  They will give you an idea of where I went and what I did.

 

Antigua
17 Nov 2006
A little about the Don Ismael Hotel

I’ll tell you where I am in two parts: first a little about my hotel and later some about Antigua.

 I’m staying in a humble little place down a dead end street. My room has bare walls, a cold tile floor, a lumpy bed and one tiny window that overlook a small plant filled courtyard. The window lets in a little light, some air, a few bugs and thankfully very little noise. There are 5 similar rooms arranged around the courtyard with a small sitting and dining area in the middle and two shared bathrooms - both very clean. I get all this for $16 a night - oh, there is also a very friendly staff.

The other guests are of necessity very friendly – we see each other brushing our teeth and on the way to and from the shower. This morning while I was trying to explain how I wanted my eggs cooked – fried – a sleepy young lady poked her head out of her door and translated for me. She was being both helpful and trying, no doubt, to get me to shut up so she could go back to sleep.

On the subject of language: of all the places I have traveled Spanish-speaking countries are the only ones where the tourists are expected to speak the local language. There are, of course, a few English speakers but not very many, so I always have my Spanish-English dictionary at the ready.

Today I have been taking to travel agents and making my onward plans, that and walking around taking pictures. When I know where I’ll be going next, I’ll let you know.

 

Antigua
18 Nov 2006
Now a little about the town of Antigua

What can I say about Antigua? Well, I guess you could call it cute. They have tried to preserve the colonial character of the city. It was once the capital of Guatemala and endowed with lots of churches, most of which are now just piles of rubble owing to the many earthquakes. Some have been rebuilt and they often have a small park in front that is unusually full of petting couples in the evening.

The residential and commercial buildings are all one or two-story and painted pastel and earth tones. The streets are cobble stone which forces the traffic to keep to a reasonable pace. The sidewalks are narrow and full of cracks and holes so you spend most of your time either in the street or watching every step. I fear breaking a leg with a miss step.

There is a probation against overhanging signs which is designed to preserver the colonial character, I guess, but it makes it damn hard to find places as all the streets look remarkable similar. In the center of the city most of the old buildings have been converted to hotels, coffee bars, boutiques, banks or spas. All this preservation, by the way, doesn’t keep the local men from pissing against the wall whenever the urge takes them.

The tourist for the most part keep to a 4-5 block radius around the main square and it is quite easy to walk out to where the local hangout and see their austere, little canteens. Despite my crabbing about its charm, as I’m getting ready to leave, I’m already looking forward to my return. There is much to be said for a place with slow traffic, Italian restaurants, fast Internet connections and sunny weather.

So, I’m off in the morning to Tikal which is in the lowlands and by all accounts hot, humid and loaded with bugs. Everyone says the same thing: wear bug repellant and drink a lot of water.

 

Tikal and Flores
20 Nov 2006
A day of walking and climbing

I got up at 4:00 this morning to catch a 5:00 shuttle to Tikal: we arrived there a little after 6:00.  It was cloudy and cool and there were very few people around for the first three hours.  The place is huge: it’s a 20 minute walk from the entrance to the first temple through lovely, dense jungle.  Then every temple seems to be another 10 or 15 minutes walk deeper in.  All I did all morning was walk and walk.  Also three of the temples can be climbed.  Two have wooden staircases built to make the assent safer.  The other you have to climb up the steep, crumbling, stone steps.  I climbed all three.  By 11:00 my legs ached and I was worn out, so I headed back to the entrance and had breakfast at one of the hotels.  Then I took a 12:30 bus back to Flores.   I had had it.

The best part of the day was on top of one of the temples overlooking the jungle.  I could hear howler monkeys calling to each other in the distant – a weird almost mechanical sound - and see parrots and toucans sitting in the near by trees.  A few other temples stuck up above the sea of green along with a couple of tall, moss-covered tree.   The few other tourists on the top with me just sat quietly awed by the whole scene.  A cool breeze blew: it was a perfect moment.

Now I’m back in Flores, a tiny little tourist town on an island connected to the mainland by a narrow causeway.  Tuk-tuk, those three-wheel motorbikes that are so common in Asia, ply the streets. The area around the outside of the island is populated by hotels and restaurants.  In the center there is a little high spot that has a little park with a view out over the lake.  It’s fun to sit there in the evening and watch the locals while drinking a beer.  Otherwise there isn’t much to do.  I have another day here and I’m not sure how I will occupy myself.  After that it’s back to Antigua again.

 

Antigua
22 Nov 2006
One of those days

My plane from Flores was late arriving back in Guatemala.  Then the shuttle driver waited and waited for other passengers.  When we finally got going we ran straight into Guatemala City rush hour traffic.  What should have been a one hour ride to Antigua took twice as long.  It was 7:30 before I finally got back to the hotel.  

Seeing me the girl that watches the desk was confused.  As she looked at the guest book she kept saying, "completo."  Now, I had been very careful: I had both talked to the manager before I left and then sent him a confirming email just to be sure I had a reservation but alas there was no room for me.  As I was trying to figure what to do next the manager came in.  He looked at me sheepish, "Tengo problemo, uno momento."  Remember very little English is spoken.  He got on his mobile phone and made another reservation for me.

The problem was the new hotel was on the opposite side of Antigua.  He was kind enough to offer to drive me.  In his car we discovered the battery was dead, so he decided to walk with me.  The place was down a dark street and had a tiny sign - I would never have found it on my own.  I got a cold, monks-cell sized room that at least had its own shower.

Did I say cold?  Apparently a cold front has come through and the temperature had dropped unusually low: I slept with all my clothes on and I can tell you that my yellow, nylon rain coat isn't the most comfortable sleep wear.  It was the only thing I had with a hood.  And what about my glasses?  Did I say I broke them too?  The only good note was that in the morning the air was crystal clear and the volcanoes look spectacular.  I'm hoping to get back into the Don Ismael tonight.  No further plans yet.

 

Chichicastenango and Panajachel
26 Nov 2006
The Sunday market

This morning I took a shuttle bus for the hour ride to Chichicastenango, a small town with a large Sunday market.  The drive alone was worth the trip: we were on narrow, windy roads and drove past fields of corn and potatoes, green houses full of flowers and through quaint, little villages.  Everything was green and there were mountains and volcanoes everwhere you look.

Chichicastenango might not have been the biggest market I have been to but it certainly was one of the most crowded.  The narrow streets around the main plaza are crammed with stands selling food stuff, clothing, colorful fabric and carved masks. Also there is a constant parade of itinerate vendors selling more fabric, fruit and jewelry.  Then there are the shoppers, about a third of which were tourists.  The crowded streets made for slow going. 

I find it impossible to shop in such crowds.  Also, there were just too many choices but I wasn’t there to shop.  I was there to take pictures.  Usually markets offer the perfect place to photograph people as they are busy and with so many others around they don’t notice me and my tiny camera.  In Chichicastenango, on the other hand, the crowds made it almost impossible to take pictures: it seemed that there was always someone stepping in the way.  Most of my pictures are of the packed streets as I rarely got a clear shot of any one person.

Anyway, it was a day well spent and I’m back in Panajachel now.  It’s a lovely little tourist town on the shores of a picturesque lake surrounded by volcanoes.  I’m staying at a place called Mario’s Rooms which is right in the middle of the tourist area but back far enough from the street to be quiet.  It has a small, plant-filled garden, private baths, hot water and only cost $9 a night.

 

Antigua
27 Nov 2006
Security

I’m back at the Don Ismael again and the folks that run it have gotten to know me quite well.  I'm the guy who is in and out, in and out all day.  They keep the door locked and you have to ring to get in.  All the places I have stayed here in Guatemala are the same.  They keep a close eye on who is coming and going. 

Further, many shops are enclosed in metal cages that keep the customers from the merchandise.  As if bars weren’t enough many places have a guy with a short-handled shotgun and a belt of shells standing by the door.  Sometimes they are just kids.  Some would be almost laughable if not for the deadly weapon.  Now you might expect this security at banks and jewelry stores, right?  Well, you also see it at paint and auto parts stores - even a guard at one photo processing store.

Then there are the military and police that you see walking in pairs or just standing on the corner admiring the young ladies walking by.  They are quite friendly and will give you a little, “Ola” if you nod and smile at them

I suspect all this security is from the bad old days when crime was a real problem.  That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.  I have talked to a number of long-term travelers and the only crime stories they have are ones they have heard (and which they are only too happy to recount) or stuff that they have read in some cautionary section of a four-year-old travel guide.

Of course, what do I know?  I’m never out late.  The one evening I was out past 9:00 was the night I got back from Flores and had to move to a different hotel. That night, when I got settled, I went looking for an Internet place and was surprised that just about everything was closed.  I wonder what the tourists do at night around here.  Me, I just go to bed.

   

Ann Arbor, Michigan
December 2006

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