Saturday, July 26, 2008

Beaches, Please / Welcome to the Jungle, Baby!

Monterrico (on the Pacific Ocean) & Semuc Champey (in the Jungle)
Guatemala. July Sometime. 2008.

MONTERRICO

It took me several fairly honest attempts to actually leave Xela, but I'd finally resolved myself to catch a 3am bus back to the capitol city. Upon waking up in the not-so-early morning (not on the bus), I found myself hitching a ride back to the capitol city in an ill-behaved mango-coloured VW van driven by a cool American couple... and AGAIN, my travel life took a minor unexpected twist, and I found myself just going with the flow! Since I hadn't made any arrangements for accommodations, Jackie (from Los Angeles), who was also catching a lift, offered me a place to stay at her family's apartment in Guatemala City. Exhausted after a long day, we stumbled next door to her tia's (aunt's) place for dinner then breakfast, where I would eventually learn to be spoiled by tia for the next week or so.

Jackie's friend Katie was coming to Guatemala for a holiday, and the three of us decided to hang out since we had much the same desires and itinerary. After meeting Jackie's cool cousin Melvin during a night of dancing, we decided to go to the black sand beach of Monterrico on the Pacific coast the following day. Melvin's BMW would brave the waterpits and potholes of the small villages we were to pass through, while we blasted music on the car stereo like highschool kids... and as we listened to Katie recite every lyric of every single song! Monterrico, a notorious party place, was filled with dancing, cucharacha (cochroach) flaming shooters, followed by relaxing just out of sight of the blazing sun while watching the waves crash in.


Guatemala City. Jackie and Katie on the dancefloor.


Guatemala City. Two out of three of us know how to dance!


Infamous Parking Lot, on the way to Monterrico. Apparently, since Monterrico is a long drive from Guatemala City, people stop by this parking lot and start the party early. Picture a high school scene with a beer in hand, and car trunks popped open with subwoofers competing for any eardrum within a kilometer radius! This is Melvin, Katie, and Jackie groovin' to the parking lot music!


Infamous parking lot. Obviously a re-enactment, but it was an interesting sign that the police 50 feet away didn't enforce, whether in the parking lot or patrolling on the roads... not that the police in Guatemala have a reputation for doing anything other than nothing or extracting bribes from people...


Monterrico. The black sand beaches, pounding waves with deadly riptides, and endless sand.


Monterrico. Our little hostel owned by a friend of Melvin's.


Monterrico. Our little hostel... restaurant, bar, chillout area.


SEMUC CHAMPEY

The next Guatemalan destination was to finally plunge into the jungle and the beautiful limestone pools of Semuc Champey. After stopping the small town of Coban for an uneventful night, we met up with another cousin of Jackie's, along with his gun-toting posse who 'work' for the local municipality. Somehow, without prior notice, they all were able to take the next day or two off without mentioning it to their boss. It later made some sense when we realized that their boss was doing much the same thing, including packing heat. We jumped in the back of a small 4x4 with the posse and drove several hours out into the jungle on a perfectly sunny day. Minor diversions included stopping for roadside goat-toe tamale's (and I'm sure other animal remnants), and a very confusing scene where the posse and boss stopped in the middle of the jungle road to investigate accident site from a week earlier. The boss's sister had apparently been run off the road, and these unskilled and impromptu investigators took it upon themselves to pretend to look for clues.

We staying in the backpacker town of Lanquin for two nights while spelunking the nearby muddy bat-filled caves, lounging in the blue waters of the limestone pools at Semuc Champey, and enjoying the booming lightning filled skies and flooded roads during the evening storms. When it was time to return to the city, we gave in to the 'cult of Pollo Campero' and bought our to-go box from the ubiquitous fast food chain before we boarded the bus with all the other locals and their Pollo Campero boxes.


Coban, Guatemala. The girls being goofs while overlooking this small town.


Into the Jungle. Somewhere on the road into the jungle, we squeezed far too many of us into this tiny little vehicle. The scenery over the jungle expanse was stunning already.


Somewhere in the Jungle. Somewhere, apparently at random, Jackie's cousin's municipality crew suddenly stopped along the cliffside road and turned from office workers into a Laurel-and-Hardy comedy act of CSI-style criminal (wannabe) forensic investigators as they looked for clues at the scene of a car crash that happened a week before. Apparently they didn't find this as funny as we did.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. A view of the limestone pools and river that sweeps through the surrounding hills. Nearby are also some muddy bat-filled caves where we spent a short time spelunking.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Somehow, the majority of the river bypasses these blue/green limestone pools by actually running beneath these formations, and then emerges back to ground level downstream.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. A reenactment spoof of Jackie's CSI Guatemalteca gun-toting cousin and friends...


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Gentle cascades of warm water slowly flow into dropping levels of shallow blue pools.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. More views of the cascades and bathers.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. We managed to have a perfect day, without rain, which is unusual for this time of year. The area was only reopened the day before due to dangerous amounts of rain and flooding in the area.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Two sexy sunbathers on the limestone rocks.


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. How could I resist a mini-photo shoot!?


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Me and my pseudo-afro!


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Jackie about to go for a ride!


Semuc Champey, Guatemala. Going... Going... Almost gone!


Lanquin, Guatemala. The closest town to Semuc Champey, this intensely popular El Retiro hostel is a beautiful little paradise in its own right! Cabins lodged in the jungle on the edge of a river made this an incredibly scenic place to enjoy life! As typical for what I'd seen in Guatemala, the torrential downpours waited until dinner time, then cleared up in the morning.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Sprechen se Espanol?

Quetzaltenango (Xela), Guatemala
6 weeks... June Something


As a personal challenge, I decided to see if I was capable of communicating in another language. Just shy of grunts and groans, I actually somewhat succeeded in rudimentary communication... but "una cerveza mas, por favor" only gets you so far... compounded by the fact that after a few Moza's you tend to believe your spanish sounds better than it actually does! The Spanish language is especially non-sensical due to the random assignment of a Masculine or a Feminine to inanimate objects, creating an unnecessarily confused language by crossing logical gender boundaries... very similar to what my parents have routinely done to their cats. But, I think that this genderization of the language manifests itself in the sexuality and passion of the Spanish speaking culture... Maybe it also explains why every single person can shake their butts so well on the salsa dance floor, much to the embarrassment of any wall-flower white boy lurking on the edge of the dance floor!

I initially expected to stay in the mountain town of Xela for a week, but in the end I spent 4 weeks with live-in families and 2 more weeks in hostels. I was intrigued by the humbling challenge of learning a new language, meeting amazing locals and other travelers, and enjoying the natural beauty that surrounded the city. Even the tourists here were not really tourists. They were in Xela to learn language, volunteer, and combine this with having fun... not simply snap pictures, check a box, and get out of town. One Saturday I chose to volunteer my time with one of the leading organizations (lets use the term 'organize' quite loosely here) that had arranged a tree planting day... I paid my money to help pay for the trees, and then we walked an hour out into the hills to a farm that was in no more need of me to pay for their trees than they were in need of new trucks or extra workers. This farmer was definitely well off with lots of hired-hands that weren't too busy doing much. I must say I was not happy that my money and time hadn't been given to a farm or community that honestly needed the help. From what I gathered, the farms that really need the help weren't interested in planting trees in lieu of space for valuable crops, and the volunteer organization was still able to sell a success story that X amount of trees were donated and planted without necessarily telling the whole truth. What saved the day for me were the fresh radishes served with lime and salt that the farmer had given us... the quality and size of the produce was rather incredible all around Guatemala, and this farm was no exception.

At this point in my travels, I was at risk of overstaying my 3 month Guatemalan visa, so I entrusted my language school, one of the teacher's fathers, and one of his corrupt friends to bypass the system and stamp my passport for a fee. Unfortunately, the corrupt friend also proved to be an absoulute imbecile, and for a ridiculously high charge he came back with my passport stamped with something other than what I'd agreed to. This wouldn't have been so bad if he had provided me with stamps that made sense, but instead I was stuck with a passport that had obviously been tampered with. Fortunately, the corruptness of Guatemalan officials and their lack of attention to detail allowed me to later leave the country without issue.




Quetzeltenango. Central Park church.


Quetzeltenango. The famous meeting place in the central park.


Quetzeltenango. A view of Xela from the lookout on the edge of town.


Quetzeltenango. The crazy Minerva market near the bus terminal. I sat down at one of the local eateries in the market and watched the hustle and bustle of people earning their everyday life.


Quetzeltenango. The crazy chicken buses outside the market being loaded with people, more people, and everything else that might happen to fit in them or on them!



Quetzeltenango. Kid in the market with stained hands waiting for his next shoe shine customer.


Quetzeltenango. Our CBA language school and the infamous, although not exactly precision... ping pong table where I tended to spend a lot of my time.

Quetzeltenango. CBA language school students, owners, and a teacher.


Quetzeltenango. JP, Nery, & Oswaldo from the CBA Language School .


Quetzeltenango. CBA language school students... Tom, Tiffany, Kyle, Kelly, and I.


Quetzeltenango. More language school peeps... Johanna, some random dude, Lucy, and Tiffany


Quetzeltenango. Rachel, JP, Lucy, Nery, Kelly from the school!

Quetzeltenango. Vinicio and Oswaldo... two of the crazy teachers for sure!


Quetzeltenango. San Simon, the Saint... undoubtedly one of the strangest icons that I have ever seen in my life. Some people believe he is the real christ... lit by Vegas-style lighting, he is given alms of alcohol, while outside the venue there was a woman chanting with upturned eyelids while stirring the headless chicken into the fire and smoking a massive cigar... until she was interrupted by her cellphone which she promptly answered without taking the cigar out of her mouth.


Quetzeltenango. Hiking in the hills above Xela, we find an abandoned truck with Poison on it... Alison, Erin, Mark, and I.


Quetzeltenango. Anna Silvia and I acting surprised about something.


Quetzeltenango. Anna Silvia, some random dude, and the infamous Mercedes... some of the locals I had met during my first week in Xela. I should also give kudos to Samantha and her mom who own the popular King & Queen bar in Xela! Very cool people!