Rio Dulce – the cherry on top of the cake

(Saturday, 11 April 2009)

Rio Dulce was my last stop in Guatemala. Nice surprise.

If you’d have to guess from the look of it in the centre of town, by the bridge, you’d never say so.

The shabby first encounter is in deep contrast with the water front, which has green forest all around and some secluded places just by the river, only accessible by boat.

I stayed in some nice bungalows, set in a small and quiet river branch. To swim, you´ve top paddle 5 minutes or so in the jungle covered canal, to access the floating platform set in the open water. And the place has a great barbecue dinner menu – my best meal since I left home. By far.

I’ve missed this type of quality. It’s true that I’ve been staying at budget places, but so it was this one. And so were many of those where we stayed in Southeast Asia.

I’ve been thinking how people seem to live better in Southeast Asia than here – even if on a similar budget. I think it partially has to do with the culture – that of the locals and of the tourists who come here too.

The food is better there. Religion less imposing. You’ve the massages. The “healthy mind on an healthy body” mindset. And I guess that ends up spilling over to the travel experience.

Don´t take it wrong - I'm amazed at some of the beauty I've seen here. But if you'd ask me where I'd rather live, Thailand or Guatemala, I wouldn't have second thoughts about it...

It’s all the way south from here

I'm preparing to leave Flores to head south to Rio Dulce. Then to the Honduran border, for a week of diving in the Caribbean reef. I’ll finally have the opportunity to get my certification – yeah!

Then, I think I’ll stay in Costa Rica until the end of the month, before heading to Colombia. South America, at last!

Heard from another traveller about how good and cheap diving in the northern Honduran islands is. Picked a random (and old…) travel guidebook for Costa Rica left behind in a hostel – I liked what I read and so I decided where to focus during the rest of my Central America trip. That’s the good thing of travelling without too much of plan or set itinerary at the beginning: you can keep making one all the time. It feels good: me, without a rigid plan. For a change.

I was planning to leave Flores yesterday, but found the bus station closed – forgot which day was it. Easter is taken seriously here…

So, time to have some rest in Flores, drink the best fruit shake ever, eat at the street food stalls and watch a bit of a procession here and there.

I’ve to say the Semana Santa celebrations don’t do it for me. The processions are nice – big crowds walking over streets covered in flowers, music, incense. But I can live well without watching them, really.

I seem immune to the contagious excitement that strikes Guatemalans and tourists alike in this time of the year. It’s maybe because I’m not religious at all? Probably not, as many of the people who excitedly watch these processions aren’t either…

I guess it reminds of Fatima too much. And I don’t like it.

I’ll leave for later on the thoughts that have been coming to my mind because of that feeling. I don’t want to be cursed because of them. Not during Semana Santa at least… ;-)

Give it a try

(Friday, 10 April 2009)

After Tikal I stay another day by the lake Petén Itza, but ow in Flores. I’m killing time to go for a few days’ juggle trekking. The idea is to go to El Mirador, a huge archaeological complex – even greater than Tikal – by the Mexican border which is quite inaccessible and still mostly covered in jungle.

Disappointment. A group of 4 people who wanted to go too changed their minds last minute and I’m alone. It’s 5 days trekking in the jungle (sleeping in hammocks, eating only what you carry – that kind of stuff) and you need guides to go with you (of course…), so it becomes too expensive if you're the only one. And there is a trip like that going there only once in a while, so it looks like a lost opportunity.

Then I hear of another group going to El Peru, another archaeological site in the jungle. It’s closer – a 3 days trip, with most of the distance covered on a speed boat – but seems nice: you spend most of the time walking around the natural park. And the prospect of seeing crocodiles is attractive. :-)

It’s a group of 19 people. Too big – for me, the fewer the merrier…. I try to know who the group is, but it’s too late in the day. But I decide to give it a try anyway – it could always be a trip of Scandinavian top models, right?

The next morning I almost have an heart attack when I get in the bus that will drive us to the speed boat. It’s a school trip from Houston, Texas. 15 students aged 10 to 16 years old, plus 4 teachers. All of them fully equipped with jungle trekking gear: water filters in their bottles, the complete Cornel Tapioca outfit – the all thing. I expect the worse. I think of giving up on the trip. But, again, I decide to give it a try.

It’s a 2h30 ride in a bumpy dusty road to the river. We stop 3 or 4 times along the way. First to get food for the kids. Then because everyone wants to pee at different times. Finally, one of them needs to do more than peeing. He comes back from the jungle with shit in his pants without noticing. All his colleagues laugh. One of the teachers patiently tries to clean the mess up.

I’m out of the bus. Thinking how long would it take me to walk my way back to Flores. Tough luck. Bad decision, I think.

But again, I decide to give it a try. Too late not to, anyway.

The rest of the trip goes more or less without incidents. Kids take ages to get ready to anything, and teachers need to call their attention all the time - they’re on a school trip after all, and the guides are generously providing a lot of interesting information about the forest. Like the fact that even if the Mayans were called the “corn people” they actually didn’t plant any corn until the Spanish arrival. They got something similar out of a jungle tree – the Ramón – which grows naturally and in harmony with the rest of the plants and trees. It was only after the European conquest that corn was introduced, and the practice of slash and burn that has devastated half the rain forest in Petén in the last couple of centuries started. “Thank you for the cultural exchange and technological advancement”, right?

But well, going back to the group of 19.

They were actually an interesting bunch. Two of the teachers, husband and wife, decided to create a different type of school almost 10 years ago. He loves the outdoors life and is a backpacking veteran – he did a trip with a similar itinerary to the one I’m thinking of doing now; 25 years ago, when it was still safe to cross the Panamá-Colombia border. He had interesting suggestions even if… hum… a bit outdated.

He was a public school teacher but gave up on it when felt too frustrated with the US education system. He wanted instead to create an opportunity to teach kids with more of a hand-on approach, with a lot of nature-oriented subjects and practical field-trips. So he created this NGO which, with the help of donors’ funds, provides the kids the opportunity to travel every year to a different country. Amongst other things.

The focus is developing countries with a lot of wild life, so that the youngsters can open up their minds to life outside the US. The school is small – only 15 students – and they all study in the same class, regardless of their year. Same subjects for everyone: they just go at different levels, with personalised help of teachers and tutors.

They spend the year studying the country they will visit later on during Easter. For instance, they were studying Mayan numbers in maths, and doing clay stellas and cooking tortillas for their arts & crafts subject.

All the kids know a lot about wild life. One of the reasons they join this school is that they get the opportunity to spend a lot of time outdoors, instead of in a class room. Some of them had learning problems and difficulty in concentrate before starting this school, but here seem to feel like fish in the water. And the school founder tries to get a balanced mix of kids, from different economic backgrounds, so that they don’t study in too much of a bubble. He pays the school for those who can’t pay it themselves, with the help of fund-raised scholarships.

So, at the end, I’m actually happy I came along with this group. Had to have a lot of patience – and find plenty of time to be on my own too… - but ended up learning from them. How to recognise poisonous snakes. How to catch scorpions. What crocodiles do to warm up their body. Interesting stuff…

And yes, one of them caught a baby crocodile. Only to put it back in water, fortunately. So, I could touch it, see it.

Thanks!

Next time I’m taken down by the first impression of someone, or the stereotype you might have of them, I’ll try to remember this one. Sometimes, it’s worth to give it a try…

The river by the camping site. I spent a lot of time seating on this tree, with quick swims once in a while. The guides said these crocodiles never attack humans, but hey: I don't want to be the first exception to the rule, right?

Baby crocodile. After we put it back in the water, we could se a grown up crocodile (2 or 3 meters long...) swiming in the river close to the camping site. Was it the mother, looking for her baby?

Tikal, of course

(Monday, 6 April 2009)

From Sayaxché I’ve headed further north, close to Tikal – the Guatemalan landmark Mayan ruins.

There are a couple of nice places to stay by the lake Petén Itza. Flores, for instance, is a little village in an island in the lake. It has some charm, but it’s also the most popular base for tourists visiting Tikal and suffers a bit from that, so I decided to stay in El Remate instead. The place is just a few houses splattered along the road by the lake, and it’s a great spot to just relax and swim.

It’s Semana Santa, so plenty of Guatemalans are staying here for their holidays. It’s nice to see some local tourism for a change…

Tikal is rightly a must-see in Guatemala. Even if the ruins are not so richly carved (this is no way Angkor Wat…), the complex is huge and many of the buildings are in ok-ish state, so you can really get a feel for how this ceremonial site must have been like in the 1000s.

The area is so huge that absorbs well the crowds and you don’t see that many people – at least if you start early, as at lunch time the park gets crowded by Guatemalans on their Semana Santa break, who come here to pic-nic…

When you climb the highest pyramids the only thing you see is tropical forest, all around. Plenty of animal life too, especially monkeys. One of the species sounds like a lion when they’re calling each other. Incredible sound coming out of something so small…

The lake in Flores

Football-playing horses in El Remate, and then sun-set

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Tikal's central plaza

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Forest canopy, all around

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Damn it - a great moment, but a poor photo...

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The video doesn't capture the sound too well, but believe me: they sound really strong, just like a lion

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Aguateca: nice

(Saturday, 4 April 2009)

Aguateca is a small Mayan ruins site, 1h30 by fast boat from Sayaché. “My first Mayan ruins”, actually.

The boat trip is beautiful. The river is surrounded by tropical jungle and populated by many birds, which keep flying away from the boat only at the last minute. And then there is a large lake a few minutes before you get to the ruins – really quiet and peaceful.

The site doesn’t impress so much from the ruins stand point – there aren’t that many buildings in good conditions anymore and most of the stone carvings are long gone. But the natural beauty of it is amazing.

The old ceremonial site had good natural defences: it was built on top of limestone cliffs that cracked long ago due to an earthquake; a deep and long gorge that was then formed goes around almost the entire site making it difficult for enemy armies to come in. But not impossible – the city was eventually conquered by a rival city state and eventually abandoned.

The place is a bit remote and not that frequently visited (I was the only tourist that day – lucky me), which adds to its charm.

The jungle grows well into the archaeological site. As we were walking around – I was with the boat man who drove me there and who, conveniently, showed me the place around, even if without to much information to add… - we saw a jungle rat. I was looking for it underneath a thick layer of leaves when I finally noticed something far more interesting one meter or so from my feet: a long fat snake. I only saw half its body as it was going under the cover of the leaves; that half was a good meter long and 15 to 20 cm large; the skin was brown and yellow, really shiny – just like on TV... I let my imagination work the first half of the snake’s body.

When I described it to the boat man, he said the snake wasn’t poisonous – just a bit aggressive if attacked.

What the hell does that mean: “just a bit aggressive if attacked”? And is it supposed to leave me more reassured?

By the way, lucky rat: it looked like our presence prevented him from being snake's lunch…

The boat ride to Aguateca

Entry to Aguateca

Walking towards the gorge...

... And in the gorge

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Chicken bus vs. Mini bus

(Saturday, 4 April 2009)

Chicken bus vs. Mini bus: the mini bus wins by knock-out in early round 1. The competition for the most uncomfortable way of travelling, I mean.

Public transport is mostly private owned in Guatemala. Mini buses (12 to 15 seats vans) are in competition with the larger chicken buses, and often work alone in the least travelled routes.

I thought the chicken buses were bad: crowded, with bad suspension, even worse music (cheesy Latin American love tunes all the time) and always travelling at high speed.

Well, the mini buses can do worse. No new ingredient – just more of all of the above.

The Cobán – Sayaxché trip beat it all. The high land scenery was painfully cruised in a bumpy unpaved road for almost 3 hours. A van with 15 seats was taking 30 people most of the time. The cooler mountainous climate soon gave place to the damn hot tropical weather of the flat lands of the northern tip of Guatemala – the Petén region.

It was a really uncomfortable ride – bare none.

Seating in a very crowded bus, with not much space to breathe a too-hot-to-be-true air. And then having to wait for almost half an hour in a small village, where the bus got stuck in the middle of the road because of the market. There, even more people came in. And the crowd outside was so packed that it contributed to the feel of claustrophobia.

But hey, it’s cheap.

Doña Cocó

In Coban: great naming for a hostel. Childish joke for Portuguese speakers only...

Blackout

Electricity blackouts are common in this region, the travel guidebook says. I can tell…

Yesterday I was back from Nebaj from trekking, and asked for a fruit shake. “Not possible” – there is no electricity. Nor in this café, nor anywhere else in the city.

The blackout lasted all day and night. At night, to call my sleep, I had to read with the help of a flashlight (good purchase!). Then, I left today around 7am to catch the chicken bus onwards: still no power. Nowhere.

25,000 people without electricity for (at least!) 19 hours. And it all seems routine. Can you imagine?

My resolution: no breakfast today in Nebaj. I’m not sure a lot of places are keeping their refrigerators connected to a power generator...

Cost of fertiliser in Portugal, please?

(Thursday, 2 April 2009)

If in Guatemala City it’s hard to explain what and where Portugal is, you can imagine here.

You’re just asked the most interesting questions. What kind of crops do you have there? What’s the wine for? What’s the cost of fertiliser? And that of firewood?

How much does a farmer get paid? How much is a “bus ticket” to Portugal?

What do you eat? Do you have pine trees too? And blackberries? (the fruit, not the phone…). Are there mountains like these in Portugal? And volcanoes?

For some of these questions, I’ve no idea what the answer may be…

Explaining Gaspar where and how far Portugal is (and also Iraq, and “what kind of war is going on there”)

You recognise awkwardness in any language

(Wednesday, 1 April 2009)

The night before I stayed with that family with TV. A bed for me and another for Gaspar – the 50 years old local guide from the Xeo village who’s with me. We stayed in the common living room where the all family sleeps. Sweet.

Today we arrive at another village to spend the night. The same kind of very basic infrastructure, but this family seems to be (relatively) well off. They’ve a small field surrounding the house (not many do…), and several animals: goats, pigs, chickens.

It’s early in the night, but bed time: we’re exhausted. Surprise comes when the family man starts covering part of the ground floor balcony at the entrance of the house with a big plastic. Then, a dirty and small sponge mattress is laid on the ground. A cloud of dust gets in the air, as the ground hasn’t been cleaned.

I see awkwardness in Gaspar’s face. He looks at me a couple of times; I keep looking at the mountains, but the same “what the f*ck?” question is going through my mind.

He asks a few questions to the man. They speak Ixil. He comes back to me: “It looks like we’re going to sleep here – do you mind? and do you mind sharing the mattress?”

I reply “it’s ok”, with the same conviction I see in his eyes. What could I do?

We just have a blanket each. Nothing to cover up the dirty mattress.

He has again an awkward smile in his face. “It’s a bit tight for the two of us, isn’t it?”

I suggest I sleep in the hammock just above. As dirty as the mattress, but at least frees us some space.

I put all my warm clothes, including raining gear – I’m glad I brought them. 2h30 after, at 10.30 pm, I give up. I go back to the mattress as I haven’t managed to sleep for more than 15 minutes straight, and my back hurts like hell.

We wake up early the next morning, with the sun rise. Not much interest in staying in “bed” anyway.

Of course, we survived. But even if we didn’t speak a word about it, I could see Gaspar shared my awkwardness.

There are things you don’t need to put in words to understand or communicate. Awkwardness. Impoliteness or unwelcoming guests, for instance. (There was plenty of room inside, and we could have shared the space with the family, as the night before, right?)

Like in any culture, there are pleasant and unpleasant people. Welcoming and unwelcoming families.

A free iPod to those who guess which category I think this family belongs to…

To live high up, but to live low

(Tuesday - Thursday, 31 March – 2 April 2009)

Interesting experience, this trekking.

Heat, too much heat. Dust, too much dust. Too steep cliffs. And tiredness. But it allowed me to get a better feel for the life in the small and remote villages in the Mayan Ixil region.

I’ve trekked between 2,000 and 3,000 meters – all the time. And life is not easy around here.

It was tougher before – in the 80’s, during the civil war. Many of the villages I passed by were deserted for years, as people run away from military violence: I heard a couple of first-hand stories around that. Other villages have been artificially created by the government, to set up camps where refugees could “embrace a new mentality”. In a different context, with a different meaning, but those places have survived to today – as “normal” villages.

The hills are incredibly steep. And the villages are always at the top. Not because of defensive reasons: the water, trees and shade-rich valleys, where rivers flow, are owned by rich landlords, whose Fincas occupy most of the fertile and easily cultivatable land.

The steeper land, higher up, is hard to work. Slash & burn is common, leaving some of the hills sadly deforested. It reminded me of Laos – yet again.

Some of the villages – not all, but some – are hours away from a road reachable by car. Man, it’s so hard to navigate some tracks, so steep they are. More so when the midday sun is punishing you hard. And some of these people have to walk these walks daily, up and down, to go work on their little fields, and then come back home. And then there are a few hours’ trips to Nebaj, once in a while, to sell their products at the market.

I asked around when and how some of these tracks were built. Did the government do it? Apparently yes – by request of the rich Fincas’ owners, so they could have in and out access to their valleys…

Spanish is not spoken by many. You can tell the kids who’re attending school – or doing better at it – because you can speak with them in Cervantes’s language. Amongst the elder, it’s even harder to find a good Spanish speaker.

Tuesday night I stayed at a family’s house with TV – a not so common luxury (you still cook with firewood and have no running water around here). The younger kid was watching Mexican soap operas, without understanding much of it. Interesting image, in an officially Spanish speaking country.

People are not very talkative to strangers – especially the elder. Not sure how much of it is cultural and how much of it is consequence of the terrible things that happened here not long ago, with the excuse of fighting the left-wing guerrillas.

But the kids are the same everywhere: easy to approach, responsive. And seem to enjoy some freedom here that isn’t easy to have in Guatemala City. Freedom to play football in the dusty streets at night - without being afraid, for instance.

Yes, kids were very approachable. To play cards with me, so that I could teach the only magic trick I know. To play football, inviting me to kick the ball on the grass covering the cemetery (don’t blame me: I just followed the crowd…). To laugh at me. To applaud me (?) at the end of the match – yes, it was a confusing moment. They were thanking me for our time together, I was told later. Sweet, isn’t it?

By the way, if you want to take random pictures of people in these villages, just leave the camera in the hands of one of the kids. Ah! And ensure you have a second battery.

The rivers, which are not for everyone…

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My first tortilla – not very round, is it?

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My Tuesday night hosts (the two pictures above)

Camera in the hands of a young kid (all of the above...)

(I’m somewhere in the middle of the dust, kicking a football)

Brito is a common name here…