Santiago de los Caballeros de Antigua

The rest of my class are trapped in the in the final dwindling moments of their much dreaded poverty and health paper. Luckily, I am not bound by the same paper, so this was an adventure weekend.

Aside: I became violently ill on thursday night, puked my guts out. First time on this trip, so I consider it a minor victory.

Santiago de los Caballeros de Antigua

I was woken up on sunday by a call from Sasha. She was getting on a bus in 45min to go across the country to play in a soccer game, she asked me if a wanted to go, I said yes.

So we grabbed some coffee for Caesar at his little shop, and then hopped in a Tuk Tuk. For the record, Coffee in tuk tuk on cobbled streets is a bad combination. Coffee was everywhere, including the driver but we all had a laugh.

The ride to the match was long and quiet, but. We hopped off the bus to have the traditional pre-game meal. Fried Chicken, courtesy of Pollo Campero, the Guatemalan answer to KFC. The fried chicken didn't help the stomach. Back on the bus for an hour or so before reaching the town.

After unloading into the stadium, I quickly realized we were no longer at altitude and that pants were a terrible choice for the hot muggy tropical climate of the low lands. After swating out what little water I had left in my body during a Hack session with Nico, we set off on a quest for Water. The quest was short lived as water was really easy to find, so we returned to the stadium, disheartened.

We were entertained by the warmup drills, and then the match started. Locals flooded into the stand...

About 5 minutes into the match...the sky openend up. The rain was deafening on the tin lamina overhead. They usually stop the game when it really starts pouring...but no one here seemed to care, so the game went on. It became a shit show, the fouls seemed all the more epic as tackled players skipped across the puddles on their backs, like stones on a pond.

As if the first aid stretcher didn't get enough use during normal matches, the rate of injury picked up a lot after the rain started. It was a...for lack of a more polite word...a veritable shit show. Santiago lost 3-nil and the home crowd loved it.

On the way back home, the spirits of the team were still very high and we decided to celebrate with... more Pollo Campero. There was a dance party on the bus ride home, unforgettable.

Info on the Cielo Grande Ride coming up tomorrow!

1000m of elevation gained over 48km (So that was what exertion at altitude feels like!)

Lago Atitlan: San Lucas Toliman

So to quickly recap, we had a boat ride to the other shore of Atitlan, then hiked up to the hotel and made a quick visit to the parish. Albeit long overdue, here is the rest:

Before coming into San Lucas Toliman (SLT), we knew very little about what would be in store. We we did know was that at one time time, it was one of the poorest areas of Guatemala. Panajachel is probably the third richest after Antigua and Guate City.

Typical front yard, as seen from above

It ends up that the rich plantation owners from the Pacific coast used to use SLT as a glorified parking lot so that they could head off across the lake in their yachts to hang out and float in the much ritzier Panajachel. Things have improved a lot in SLT and I didn't see any nice cars around...I wonder where the rich people park their cars now?

The view from the lawn

One of my (formerly) favorite things about buildings in Guate is that they leave the steel rebar poking through the roof. At first I thought that they had just run out of supplies, time or energy. Ends up, they keep the rebar poking up just in case they want to keep building later on. Our hotel was no exception...the only thing exceptional was the funny foot smell that was lingering in our room before we moved in.

I fell on bars like these at my house in Antigua...could have been worse

A night shot of the hotel roof.

So after grabbing some food from the parish, we sat around an listened to some background stories, some past successes and just learning more about the parish in general. Case and point, Construction of housing for a post-Agatha relocation project, a parish subsidized coffee growing scheme AND a health clinic...

Food time at the parish

Thousands of pounds of coffee, waiting

...for this Coffee Roaster

Parish Clinic: The Scenic Driveway

We took a tour of the facilities, and learned about the way this facility (32 beds, 1 GP and 7 nurses) was worked into the regional health system of community midwives, mobile clinics, distant outposts, and the bigger hospital in Solola (~100 beds, GP, specialists, 2 ERs and 2 ORs). We then compared this parish clinic with the public health center on the other side of town.

The reception area of the SLT public clinic

There was a local couple sitting on the bench waiting for the doctor. After we had all flooded in, he turned to one of my classmates and asked... "You're all not sick are you?!" Hilarious!

The region has really mobilized its health system around maternal health, pre-natal and neo natal and trying to dramatically reduce the infant mortality rate. Totolya's community center hosted a Q&A period with some midwives from an outlying community, some very interesting insights about their experiences.

A break, halfway through the Q&A

On the way back from the clinic, we stopped at the local shrine of Maximon or 'St. Simon' which we had heard alot about, but had yet to see. Our coordinator was seen leaving a tienda with a mickey of 'Quetzalteca Especial', a shocking scene to be sure. It is customary to bring cigarettes and alcohol when going to Maximons' shrine because those are some of his favorite things.

Maximon, drinking his fill before a smoke

We suspected that the alcohol flows through his body into a bucket, which they drink later. Seriously interesting stuff...Catholic Saint mixed with Mayan God. Read up on him here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maxim%C3%B3n

So the next day, we got to give back to the community. At first, we thought there would be a choice between building houses, weeding at a farm or building a road. For various reasons, the first two weren't available. Entonces, we all went onto road duty. This was the road, tucked into the side of a ravine up a sizable hill.

Behold! The Road!

We had three wheelbarrows, some woven plastic bags and three sledges. They walked us over to some ruins in behind another house, well on its way to a similar state, and showed us where to start digging. And by digging, they meant breaking rocks apart with said sledges. FYI manual labour is pretty tough...my hands only lasted about 4 hours before my skin decided to give up. Thanks to our contribution of blood and sweat, we moved the road ahead by just under a meter. As we were tossing the chunks or rocks and broken glass into the void, we noticed that there was no drainage in the side wall. Seeing as this road is on the side of a hill, nearish to a river, we thought that might have been a good thing to put in. Hope it doesn't rain too much in Guatemala!

http://www.foxnews.com/weather/2010/05/29/tropical-storm-season-forms-guatemala-coast/ ...hope it holds up to 30 inches as there were a few houses right on the other side of that wall.

Group Love

Bam! Thats all for last week, this weekend... Soccer game in Retaheleu and the Cielo Grande MTB ride.

Funny Story....

Now, lets be honest

Anyways... after a meeting with a class group last night, we headed out to JPs Rumbar to unwind. There was already a group of classmates there, so the more the merrier. Things carried on until about 11pm when the place needed to close up. On the way home, the mojitos caught up to me and I really needy to pee. Most of the streets in Antigua are packed with houses and there are no alleys what so ever, making it hard to find a good place to relieve myself. Until I walked past this place...

This was the perfect spot, some really nice ruins behind a low wall. Before I could think twice, I had hopped the wall and had started peeing in a corner right near the wall.

All of a sudden, I heard a hushed voice in my ear..."Que pasa aqui?" trans. "what is going on here". Some one was right behind me!

It startled me so much I stopped mid stream. I zipped up and turned around. I was at the business end of a shotgun which was being held by a short man, cloaked in a dark poncho. He had materialized out of the bushes as soon as I landed on the other side of the wall. Que pasa aqui? he said again. All I managed to get out was "nesecité urinar"

The funny part was that he said..."Oh, excuse me"

By that time I had already hopped back over the wall and was on my way back home.

Moral of the story: Don't jump into private property after dark in Guatemala...private security guards are everywhere. Oh man.

Movie Material

This past weekend, I visited a NGO in San Pedro Comolapa. They were building a school out of tires, bottles and bags of sand. Garbage is taking on a new light...

For your viewing pleasure, the trailer of a 2010 acclaimed documentary Waste Land...

...and the full length version of The Garbage Warrior.

...and just because its awesome!!!!

Lago Atitlan: Xela, Sonola and Pana

It was 10am, and students were shoaling up by the front of the school (Centro Linguistic Maya). While making my way over, I had seen two identical Toyota touring vans parked down the road… I had a sneaking suspicion that these would be our vehicles. I am always impressed how much stuff some people bring with them on these trips. On a three-day trip, some people had two large backpacks whereas I had a small backpack, and a man-bag. Now…its not that I have a superiority complex that is stoked by minimalist packing habits, I’m just pointing something out.

So, the destination of this trip was to go to San Lucas Toliman (SLT). Yet our first stop was Xela. This is interesting because Xela is north of lake Atitlan by about an hour, four hours away from Antigua. SLT proper is on the south side of the lake, only about two hours away from Antigua. So what does Xela have to do with SLT. Absolutely nothing. There was nothing planned for our stop to Xela. Our itinerary: stay in a hotel, watch a soccer game, wakeup and leave the next day.

An interesting coincidence, the gentleman who was guiding the trip had family in Xela and he was able to pay them a visit while we where there. What are the chances, I’m glad it worked out so well for him!

After an exciting early-morning car-accident outside the hotel (we were witnesses, not involved), we set out towards the lake. We stopped at a random lookout, and were beset upon all sides by young kids selling little wooden birds, bracelets and chikles. The adults in their stalls looked beyond us, unmoved by yet another load of gringos. Only when you come within the magic 4ft away from their wares do they move in for the sales pitch. Its Jade. Very special price for you.

After the random road-stop, we stopped once again, this time in a town called Sonola during the market day. The market was packed! And the biggest difference was all the seafood: crab, shrimp, pan fry and some bigger trout-like fish. Smells were intense.

Finally, we made the push towards Panajachel (Pana). This place was so touristy that the market stands started 5 minutes outside of town on the main road in. As soon as we got off the bus, we swung a deal with the hotel that we were standing outside of to do a group rate of 80q a head. Sure there are places that are a bit cheaper…but it was just sooo convenient. Almost everybody jumped in.

I spent the afternoon walking around, taking pictures. Met a Belgian woman who was doing research about fair-trade practices, and we chatted for a bit. We went out that night, first to a friends hotel and then out into town. We stopped in at Rock Cafe, but I decided to go home early. Ends up, my friends met with some circus performers and headed to an after party at a nearby restaurant. It sounded like a awesome night. I was glad I got some rest.

Next morning, bright and early, well rested, we met down by the docks to hop on a boat. After everyone had gotten the “I’m on a boat” jokes out of the way, we set off across the lake. Although very polluted by the shore, Lago Atitlan is one of the cleanest lakes in the world, thanks to the depth of the water at the mid point. Patrick asked the Captain if we could stop the boat for a swim, the captain agreed, and we went bananas for about 10 minutes, leaping off the side of the boat into the turquoise water below. Awesome.

We came docked on the other side of the lake, and made our way up to the hotel. Although sleeping in a hotel, all our meals and all the meetings were to be based out of a catholic parish….more on the parish in the next post.

another quicky

The posts about the last trip will have to wait. Instead of doing homework this morning, I headed out to some public pools with Mariah and Martin. The walk was long, and it ends up these pools are right beside a small quarry, a bizarre juxtapose. And by pools, I mean pool...two of the three were being renovated, a microcosm of Guatemala. The water was frigid, so we lay in the sun before heading towards home. We picked up some street-food en route, I'll see how it goes tomorrow.

Now I have to get caught up with work!

Maybe tomorrow, I'm building a backlog of stories!

Preview: Xela, Pana and San Lucas Toliman

These are some teasers for tomorrows post...

A swatch of a wall in Xela, a classic Guatemalan city.

A view of Lago Atitlan in the cradle of volcanos.

A swatch of a wall in Sonola, a bustling market town on Atitlan.

The view from a cafe in Pana

P.S.

Also...watching videos of Bahrain and Libya.

My thoughts, hope and dreams are with those on the streets.

The genie is out of the bottle.

quicky

Subway restaurants in Guatemala have Guacamole as a topping. that is all.

Returning to Antigua

When I arrived in Guatemala, I was whisked out of Guatemala by private shuttle, directly to Antigua. Antigua is perhaps the most affluent city in Guatemala and is also a UNESCO world heritage site. It is as picturesque as it is wealthy. My first experiences in Guatemala were the slow exploration of the beautiful streets that surround my end of town.

These first memories stand in sharp contrast to the trips I have taken since... El Estor, Lote Ocho, Rabinal, Rio Negro, Sonola, San Lucas Toliman and other communities. Shelters wedged into impossible places, tin roof and tarp walls. Small tiny plots of land, placed on impossible angles on the sides of cliffs. Naked children, munching on cobs of corn, playing in the smoking heaps of garbage and diesel fumes by the side of the road.

I've been based out of Antigua for about six weeks now. It is nice and comfortable, but it is a bubble. Every time I return to Antigua from a trip to the other areas of Guatemala, the cobbled streets are familiar but seem even stranger than the first time I set foot in them. Even though a part of me feels like I return home when I walk into my house on 9th calle, I also feel like I'm taking a step further away from the rest of Guatemala.

This is a picture that captures a lot of what I see in Guatemala...

Private boat, resting the most beautiful lake in the world (framed by volcanos), surrounded by rubble and garbage, next to a bar serving $.25 mojitos to tourists (just like me).

Una semana en los pueblos Maya: Capitulo 4

Rabinal to Rio Negro

We set off early to make the trip to the community of Rio Negro. Most of us were excited for the boat ride, others not so much.

The first challenge was to get to the boats. The tricky thing was, the bus was down river from the dam, but the boat launch was up river of the dam, yet no roads led to the launch from up river...the only way to get to the launch was to drive up the dam. There were probably five or six 180 degree turns, all on the edge of a cliff. Our full size school bus had to negotiate these turns with precision. The driver used the manual transmission 'roll-back' to make a three point turn, backing up to within meters of the cliff. I have never been so nervous in vehicle in my life...but no worries, we made it!

Half the class, packed in a boat

The boat ride was a nice change, we had the company of some locals needing to get to their respective flooded communities along the way. As we glided up to the dock at Rio Negro, we could see the steep sandy path winding up the hillside towards the community centre. These paths were seriously steep, with gradients of 20-25% in some places. It was more of a hike than any of us expected...

heading up to the community centre

In a few minutes, we could see the some buildings in the distance. When we got closer, we saw a wonderful wooden house, surrounded by a spectacular covered porch, overlooking the river valley.

BEST

PORCH

EVER

The rest of the afternoon consisted of swimming and playing guitar on the best porch in the world. That night, we decided to sleep under the stars...what a beautiful place.

Glad I had a good camera!

The next morning was not so lighthearted. We had two options: Another boat ride and a short hike to a cave which was inhabited for over two years by survivors or the massacres. Or, we could hike a mountain side path, the same path used as the death march made by almost the entire community of Rio Negro on that fateful day. I chose the latter.

The hike started at 7:00am. We headed up the mountain on an empty stomach, stumbling around on a overgrown, loose and rocky path. The altitude (more than 2000m above sea level) was taking its toll on some, but we all made it to the top. We were at a flatland section between two peaks, and the sun was just starting to crest the horizon. It was beautiful, but as soon as our guide started recounting his story, the situation darkened...

March 13, 1982

Be forewarned, this paragraph has graphic content...He pointed to where he hid, he showed us where he was his brothers and sisters lie face down in the dirt, hands above their heads, listening and watching to the massacre take place. He walked us over to a low spot in the flatlands, he told us this is were they gang-raped all the women, before they walked them up to the pit. The pit was the most chilling part of the whole area. The men and boys were killed first, by machete or by hanging, after which they were tossed into the pits, they were the lucky ones. After the women were repeatedly raped, the would tie them to the 'killing tree' by the neck, and twist the leather strap around their neck until they suffocated or their neck snapped. For the youngest children, the most expeidient way to exterminate them was to tie a rope around their necks, and swing them against the killing tree, shattering their tiny bodies. The only time bullets were used was to try to shoot those who tried to flee. After it was all over, some survivors tried to cover up the bodies, as crows and wild pigs started to eat the remains.

View of the pit, now hallowed ground

These atrocities were committed by the Civil Defense Patrols (PAC) from Xococ, a community up river from Rio Negro. Like in many other civil conflicts around the world... friends, colleagues and sports team competitors become enemies, and ruthless killers. Communities are wiped out, and the landscape is changed forever. After the tour of the massacre site, we all needed a chunk of time to reflect.

Reflecting, scattered above the massacre site

After collecting out thoughts, we headed back down the mountain side to the community center to grab some breakfast. The food was delicious, as everything was prepared over an open fire. We thanked the women of the community for providing for us.

Starting the descent back to the village

I spent the whole bus ride back to Antigua reading Grahames' books and reflecting on this experience. This was the most dramatic, moving trips I have ever been on. I'm glad I could finally write about it.