In the end, everything works out. I landed in a very nice hostel and I have a room to myself. But, whoa, this town is cold. My first impressions of Xela, what with the ATM panic and all, weren't so great. As I've met more friendly and interesting people, it has grown on me.
It rained yesterday. The pictures don't quite show how relentlessly decrepit this city is. I stepped out of the hostel twice on simple errands and got lost in the labyrinth on my way back. Everything seemed a little menacing and unfriendly The rain didn't help. I realize it was largely a perspective issue. It was cold and wet. No wonder everyone looked so miserable. I felt the same.
Here at the hostel, people were going to their rooms in the middle of the day just to cocoon themselves under all of those warm blankets. I did it myself for about 5 minutes until an earthquake forced me out of bed again. I knew it wasn't a big earthquake and I almost ignored it until I realized I was lying right beside a big window that might drop heavy shards of glass all over my shivering body. I stepped under the threshold and chatted to other guests. Some of them were a bit freaked. It was their first earthquake ever. I rather enjoyed my first one in Mexico, for the sheer novelty,like a young child seeing snow for the first time but maybe I'm too stupid to survive and only luck has kept me going this far in life.
The earthquake was a big one, all the way from Chiapas. Here's hoping San Cristobal is still standing. I met some people heading there tomorrow and reminded them to check the news just in case this was a bad time to drop in.
It's nice here but I didn't come all this way just to visit bank machines, drink coffee and chat with strangers at the hostal. The big activity for Xela is the ten hour hike up Santa Maria volcano. On my first night, I heard a crowd of people leaving at midnight on a guided tour in the rain. They were back the next day, twelve hours later. with purple lips. I walked over to ask about the trip, figuring they'd be bursting with stories if they had a good time and quickly understood that wasn't the case as they didn't feel much like talking. One girl said she was extremely glad to be back. They couldn't see a thing while they were up there because of the rain. People were hurt the same night from another tour group on the same trip. I heard it involved rescue helicopters. Another group on a day trip yesterday didn't make it all the way to the top before the trip was canceled. There were concerns that it was going to blow. A young Korean I met this morning was with that group and a fall on slippery rocks gave his back a twist he's still feeling today. I've decided to skip the volcano.
Instead, I visited the free musem in the town square. ----- Incidentally I've learned that "zocalo" is more of a distinct Mexican word than Spanish. Here in Guatemela, they call it a park.------It wasn't a warm, heated museum but at least it was indoors. All of the Guatemelan history was lost on me. I can't read Spanish. The natural history section was just a little odd. There were stuffed animals including a lion with a tongue that could have been made of red Play-dough that completely spoiled the effect. And then there were all of these things preserved in jars like snakes and fetuses, one of which looked kind of human, but surely not. The shark fetus already looked rather sharky.
Night came and my mood eventually lifted. I found everyone back at the hostel very friendly and we were all more or less in better spirits once we resigned ourselves to the constant chill.
There are some great people staying here, a lot of them long term guests studying Spanish at local schools or volunteering on various local development projects without even food and shelter for recompense. Ezekiel from Argentina has been here much longer than expected since he broke his ankle one night from a fall on dark wet concrete stairs. His foot has been in a cast ever since. He can't go anywhere so it's very lucky we have free wireless. He goes to a rustic cantina for all meals just because it's the closest place. I went along last night and was very impressed. Good wholesome food and a very downscale and authentic ambience. Everyone there, children included, greeted their best customer with big smiles.
I've been traveling with two bottles of home made mezcal from Zipolite, a big one for Crazy Horse's friend in Parachela and a little one for me. Ezekiel and I shared a night cap, hoping it would melt the chill. It worked! I love mezcal more than ever. Others looked very interested and I wanted to share it with everyone but they all politely refused. It was probably for the best as I might have been tempted to pull out the big bottle as well and I am honor bound to deliver it to Lonny. That means I must head there immediately tomorrow. Besides, it's raining again.
Lonny and I aren't really giants. Karen was sitting down when she took the shot.
