Antigua
GUATEMALA
Welcome to Guatemala
By LYNDI
Thursday, April 24, 2008
After an 11 hour busride from Lago de Yojoa, Honduras to Guatemala, Aaron and I got off the bus in Antigua a bit disoriented. This was not the Central America we had grown accustomed to in Honduras. In fact, it appeared as though our driver had accidentally dropped us off in southern Italy by mistake. The cobbled streets led us through a maze of shops with giant windows and thick walls, bakeries with the scent of fresh bread, and little restaurants with open courtyards and rooftop terraces. Clearly, we were not in Honduras anymore…
Aaron and I found a dorm at The Black Cat really close to the Parque Centrale for our first night but decided that we were too old for the all night partying that goes on round there (sad, I know…), so the next day we took off in search of something a bit quieter and, naturally, just as cheap. We got really lucky by finding a place at a hotel called the Yellow House, and got even luckier by getting a room in a little cabin on the rooftop. Apparently the Yellow House is really popular – and the room we got is highly coveted. Our hotel is a great deal, because for Q120 ($15/night) we get hot showers, cable TV, free breakfast, free internet, and free drinking water. We didn’t know this at first, but we also got free roosters crowing at 5am, free firecrackers being set off in the street below at approximately 11:30pm, 2:30am, and about 5:05am – just after the rooster is done, and the occasional Muzak version of Elton John’s number one hit single “Sacrifice” (I don´t get it either). However, we have found you can’t escape the roosters anywhere you go (although in Utila, at least we had a dyslexic rooster that crowed at dusk instead of dawn…), but the firecrackers and Muzak are just a nice addition.
On Sunday we decided to take a daytrip to the local Mayan market of Chichicastenango. It’s well-known in Guatemala for being the best local market in the country since all of the traditional Mayans that live in the Highlands come to ChiChi to sell all their stuff every week. So Aaron and I hopped on a shuttle that took us on the 3 hour drive to ChiChi. We had about 4 hours to wander around all the stalls (just short of one billion of them) and look at all of the blankets, masks, jewelry, clothes, rocks (??), toys, and little 4’5″ Mayan women walking around with kids strapped to their backs, a load of goods wrapped to their front, and full baskets balanced on their heads. Great multi-taskers. It actually took us about 4 hours to get through everything because the market was so massive. However, our timing was perfect, because by the time we were leaving, everything was starting to look the same. Aaron didn’t end up buying anything except for lunch and an ice cream cone, but I came away with a new bag and a couple pairs of earrings. On the way home, we were lucky to run into Mayan rush hour where we were stalled in place for about 45 minutes without moving an inch. Luckily, our NASCAR certified driver made up for lost time by his breakneck pace on the way home, accompanied by his personal vendetta to pass every vehicle within sight – blind corner or not.
We made it back to Antigua around 6pm, so it was a full day of driving and markets. It was a good trip, but I’d only recommend it if you have an entire day to kill. If your time in Antigua is limited – skip it. Unless you really like markets. Or 6 hour busrides. And I do just have one bone to pick with ChiChi. I’ve always been told to be a conscientious traveler and to be sure to ask permission before taking pictures of locals. However, at the market, everyone I asked said “Sure. 10 Quetzals”. As evidenced repeatedly in this blog – I’m cheap. And last time I checked, paying the equivalent of $1.15 to take a picture is not a good deal. Little ladies even wanted to charge me to take pictures of their chickens!! Now, I’m respectful of all cultures, and if you believe that me snapping a photo of you will steal your soul or is against your personal values, I won’t take a picture. But if you don’t mind and are just trying to rip off tourists genuinely interested in your culture – I’m gonna get my picture. So once we were back in the shuttle for the return to Antigua, Aaron took my camera and took pictures from between the open slit of tinted windows in the van and got several good shots. He has a rewarding future as a paparazzi photographer, I’m sure.
Late on Monday, I started to feel a bit sick again. This is really strange, because I never get sick at home. Maybe once every two years – but this was about to be my second go in about two and a half weeks. So either it was something I ate at the market, or Aaron is secretly lacing my food with Anthrax. The investigation is still open and unsolved. So anyways, I was laid up in our hotel room for the next two days, while Aaron patiently waited it out with me – even going out of his way to get me a Sprite when nothing else would sit in my stomach. I returned the favor when he started to get sick on Wednesday night by making him take a 3 hour hike up an active volcano.
We bought the non-refundable tickets to hike up the volcano Pacaya on Wednesday afternoon, approximately 2 hours or so before Aaron started getting sick. So come Thursday morning, we were off. The shuttle took us to a small village called San Francisco where we were immediately greeted by a swarm of 8 year old boys selling us walking sticks. Since Aaron wasn’t feeling well, we figured it was a good investment, and I have to admit, a couple minutes into the hour and a half hike up, I was a bit jealous. I’m not sure why I was surprised that the hike was so steep (considering we were climbing a volcano and all), but it was more like walking up stairs for 90 minutes. And, as luck would have it, it was “Guatemalan-Field-Trip-Day-to-Pacaya”!!! So not only were we trudging up a small, steep path, but also in the dust of about 300 little kids and their parents and siblings. Luckily, there are plenty of different paths to take the further up you go, so the massive huddle of hikers was only temporary.
One of the greatest things I’ve found about Central America so far is that they seem to trust you to not kill yourself. I love it. They let you climb beneath waterfalls and trust you not to lose your footing and slip to your death, and now they were letting us climb an active volcano and trusting us not to boil ourselves in the lava! Once we got to the top of our hike, we were welcomed with a great view of the surrounding countryside to our right, and endless lava fields to our left. You could actually see the lava flowing down the side of the mountain. Next thing you know, you hear our guide Arturo say “Vamos!” and start hopping along the newly formed lava rocks to the flowing lava! Eventually we got to the point where you could bend down and touch the liquid hot magma. It was amazing. The heat that permeated out of the rocks was baking us, and not only could you see the sludgy lava flowing on top, but there were several breaks in the rocks where you could see the bright red lava flowing underneath. The logical side of you thinks “Wow, one wrong step or one loose rock, and I’m (quite literally) toast. Maybe I shouldn’t go any further”, but then the adventurous side says “Cool! Lava!” and you find yourself getting close enough to poke your walking stick in. We found that if you stir it up enough, you can create an open flame!
We couldn’t stick around too long due to the extreme heat, but what a cool experience. Not only were we able to touch the lava and walk across dried lava fields (that were flowing a few days ago), but the top of the volcano continually groaned loudly and spurted out smoke – just to remind you that one burp, and we could all be wiped out.
The rest of our time in Antigua, we spent either being sick, or just walking around the shops, art galleries, old churches, and other ruins. Antigua was originally the capital of the country, but after being destroyed by earthquakes over and over again, they decided to stop rebuilding everything and just move it to Guatemala City. Every landmark we go to starts out something like this: “Originally built in 16XX, it was destroyed by the earthquake of 1717. After finally being rebuilt, it was again destroyed by the earthquake of 1773. They began rebuilding efforts, but the second earthquake of 1773 finally squashed all hopes”. There is one church – La Merced Iglesia – that has been rebuilt again after the latest earthquake of 1976 and is still very impressive. After wandering through it for awhile, I had to leave after discovering a casket being wheeled down the aisle towards me. (I wondered why there was a bunch of black clad people at the front). The city today is full of one story buildings with very thick walls, since the Antiguans have learned that if the earthquakes don’t get it – the volcanoes might.
We’ve been here for about a week and a half now as we await the arrival of Aaron’s bankcard that his parents generously mailed last week. Seeing as how post offices sometimes close around 1pm, we expected to be here awhile. But the longer we stay, the more travelers we talk to, and the more we realize we have to do and see in Guatemala. It will be a wonder if we ever get out.
