Good-bye Guatemala

Villa Lupita

A cathedral in Panajachel as seen by night from the roof of Villa Lupita.


By day


The sock tree

At the end of my stay in Jaibalito, the money had started to dwindle. It was time to go. I could have stayed one more day but I went to swim off someone's dock and noticed the lake was relatively calm after a week of the rough stuff and I packed up. A storm was building from San Pedro's direction. My timing couldn't have been better. It felt like I was being chased.

I checked in at Villa Lupita for the night. I was tempted to just spend a few nights, draw out some more cash and return to Jaibalito for another week but that all changed when I faced my third short-lived financial crisis and stared hard at the possibilty of being stranded so far from home without cash for food, shelter or a way out of town. I'd been pushing my luck too long. There had been too many hints already that Guatemala wasn't a good fit for me and it was time to listen up just as soon as I straightened out the current mess.

I took my card to the only bank machine that ever worked for me and nothing happened. The screen said to insert and remove my card. I kept doing it. I went to every other machine in town and thought I was going to lose the card at one of them. The simple solution was that it was the end of the weekend and every machine was out of cash but I immediately thought in terms of worst case scenarios and filled three notebook pages with solutions. Things weren't as desparate as those three seconds in Xela when the evil grannies lifted my wallet, bank card and all, but it wasn't fun. Getting back to the Mexican border looked like at least a 36 hour fast.

But what if I'd become a victim of major bank fraud while the days passed quietly on Jaibalito? That would be the ultimate disaster. I went online and discovered that the final bonanza of the pension refund had arrived from Korea. I was about as affluent as I've ever been. I just couldn't get near any of it.

In the end, it all worked out. Tom from Cordon Blue told me the machines would probably be full again the following Monday around 1:00 and added some good advice on top of that in case there was a problem with the card. I couldn't just sit patiently until 1:00. I kept running back and forth from the machine to my hotel. The nasty local brat still hung out on Santander. He had long since given up on squeezing anything out of me by providing coke or prostitutes but couldn't just let me pass without calling me a "beetch". Eventually I had to force myself to take a nap and stop thinking about it.

When the money finally came through, the hunger stopped. I'd been resisting a constant ravenous appetite, eating only survival portions to maintain the scant funds. I was on a very tight budget. It must have been all in the head because suddenly that little breakfast I'd had hours before seemed adequate for a while longer.

Away I went on a nice comfy shuttle bus all the way across the border to beautiful San Cristobal de Los Casas with only a few refreshing stops for landslides.
It's nice here. My bank card works everywhere. I've gone back to wearing my wallet in my front pocket.

I took a fantastic tour yesterday. Saw an incredible cave, las Grutas, like something out of the "Journey to the Center of the Earth" cartoon of the 70s and a stunning waterfall, Cascadas de Chiflon. I took some great photos. You would have loved them. Sadly by the time we reached the Montibello lakes, I discovered my camera had been left behind. The van driver couldn't or wouldn't help when I asked if he would call somebody at the waterfall.

I tried not to be but I was a bit bummed. The truth is I never loved that camera. I only bought it because it was waterproof. It had virtually no zoom at all and so many pictures were complete trash. I feel a responsibility for everything I buy and resist upgrading until the current toy is broken and even then I try to fix it first. Now if I can just manage to find something nice in one of Mexico's poorest states, I'll be in good shape. I felt worse about all the great pictures I lost. A couple of ladies took my email address and promised to send some of their photos. I felt a lot better.

So the pictures on this entry are all we'll ever see from the Olympus. I thought I had everything covered when I bought a shock and waterproof job after dropping the Canon in Cheonggye Stream. Losing cameras is a habit I need to break right away.

Wait a minute. Not so fast. A great lady I met that day felt sorry for me and emailed me pictures. I've just ben slow about posting. Thanks again, Erendira Griego Fernandez.

First up are a couple of shots of Las Grutas. Cool place but very difficult to capture with a camera. You have to be there. The lighting is enough to see everything but they defy the lens. Here's some proof that it's not impossible but it really has to be seen in person.


Finally, Chiflon Falls. Magnificent.

Reserva Natural

Carina left for Copan a few mornings ago. She makes me look like such a slacker.

The nasty little hustler that had been hassling me before started stepping over the line. He got mad and stomped after me down the street, telling me how tough he was. "I spent two years in Dallas, Texas. You wanna see my tattoos?"

Panachel was becoming less fun all the time.

On the advice of Mary and Rita from Utah, I visited a great national park nearby called Reserva Natural Atitlan. I arrived late and the trail was losing light so I didn´t try the zip lines. The rickety and rotten suspension bridges made me doubt I would have enjoyed them anyhow.





Saw a very pretty waterfall and some monkeys. At first the monkeys kept a distance but then they gradually started moving in on me. I was the only person on that trail and I had the strange sense they were strategically stalking me.


I moved on to the mariposa garden. The butterflies seemed to be hiding. Found the private beach for the park just as it started to get dark.

http://www.atitlanreserva.com/

Walk Around Panajachel

This blog has a tendency to be just a bit too chatty some days. This entry will be heavier on the pictures. I swear.

I was too lazy to wake up and go on a lake tour with Carina but we took a nice walk around the town and harbors when she got back. It was a great low maintenance day. Did my laundry. Took the walk. Take out food for a picnic dinner on the lake (Carina's brilliant inspiration) and happy hour.

We almost had a brilliant shot of the dog beside me sticking it's head out of a garbage can like a jack in the box but moments like that don't last for long.

Mission Complete

It took the entire bus ride from Xela to Panachel for the adrenaline and paranoia to settle down after the market incident. Beck wanted to step off the bus for a cigarette and asked me to watch his bags. I didn't take my eye off them for a second. People kept pouring on to the bus selling snacks. One boy set his load down on the empty seat beside Beck's bags and stood there causing a jam in the traffic flow while two others joined him, intentionally or not, obscuring my view to the best of their abilities. Already on red alert, I thought this might be a classic shoplifting ploy and I blatantly craned my head to peer through them until they left.

I felt the negativity finally lift when I caught my first peek of the lake. Things were looking up. Panajachel is no paradise but the lake is an impressive sight. Street hustlers hassle me for boat trips they're not connected to. They want to help with everything. Very friendly guys. If you're incapable of walking up to a hotel desk on your own and asking the price, they're happy to help. If you don't need them, they'll be glad to hook you up with weed, cocaine, prostitutes or all of the above.



I met a new friend, Carina, a brave young lady from Austria travelling on her own, within ten minutes of checking into my hotel. She had landed in Guatamela City and lost her camera in the hotel. I was off on a quest to find Becky's Bar and I invited her along.

It didn't take us long. We poked our heads in the door and there was Gary, late of Zipolite. What a welcome sight. He managed to cross the border from Mexico with virtually no hassles and things are looking up for him.


Lonny was there and I passed the big bottle of Mexican mezcal to its rightful owner. He seemed happy and shared a drink. It was too early for me and my stomach was empty but how could I refuse?
Lonny and I aren't really giants. Karen was sitting down when she took the shot.

We stayed there for a bit, trading stories. It felt like being back at the hostel in Xela, very relaxed. Eventually Carina and I headed down to the lake to find a restaurant for dinner. I think we were the only customers for about 7 restaurants. Hard to tell how long the slump had been going on so I didn't order chicken. We had a nice view of the lake with the lights from the other towns on the dark horizon. Then it was happy hour back in town where we ran into my travelling Irish friends again until a sleepy end to another big day.

Carina had already decided to visit the world's biggest Mayan market, Chichitenango, the next day. It didn't sound like anything I would want to do after the market in Xela but I didn't like the idea of her going alone so I invited myself along. Um, no regrets.