After somberly watching Steven disapear down the corridor to his gate, I left the airport and headed past all the airport taxi´s (charging more to get to the bus to Antigua than the entire trip to Antigua in an airport shuttle) and found a taxi on the street to take me to the bus terminal. As we drove, my taxi driver talked to me about his job and his life in the city. He said that he had never aspired to be a cab driver, but as his family grew, he found himself in need of a job that brought in more money. He told me that he would make sure that he got me to the bus stop safely so that I could learn Spanish and help people back in the states.
I made it back to Antigua and went to the school to meet my new family. My new family consisted of a couple, Mayra and Selvin and their two children, Priscilla, 12, and Gabriel, 5. I spent two weeks with them and throughly enjoyed them and the experience, alhtough my teacher was the highlight of my experience in Antigua. Twenty-six, stunningly beatiful, single, independent and forward thinking, she impressed me on every level. Not to mention that she was a very professional teacher as well as being very enjoyable to hang out with. I am hoping that we can stay in touch.
The second weekend of my stay was Easter weekend, or Semana Santa and that will take an entire post of its own.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
El centro del mundo Maya
We arrived in Guatemala City just as it began to get dark and quickly made our way to the bus station to buy our tickets for the overnight bus to Flores. After a dinner of surprising good Guatemalan Chinese food, we boarded our luxury bus for our eight hour journey to Flores. I tried to stay up to watch ¨Black Hawk Down¨ dubbed in Spanish, but I soon fell into what would be a fitful 7 hour sleep.
We arrived in Flores around five in the morning and decided against going straight to Tikal, desiring more to find a stable bed in which to get a little more rest and a room with a shower. We paid the shuttle to Tikal to take us to a hotel we had chosen and spent a few hours resting in our room. We planned to go to Tikal at 3:00 that afternoon in order to get a pass for the following day as well, so we went in search of something to do for the few hours before we left. I had read in the guide book that there was an animal rescue and rehabilitation center nearby, so we hired a boat to take us to ARCAS, where we recieved a tour and information about the sad realities of animal trafficing, local environmental conservation and fell in love with the monkeys.
We got back to Flores in time for a quick lunch and then to catch our shuttle to Tikal. Tikal is known as the ¨Center of the Mayan World¨ and has become a world heritage site showcasing numerious Mayan temples, only a small percentage of what is believeed to be the world´s largest Mayan ruins. The trip from Flores to Tikal takes about an hour and a half (depending on the driver and the state of your vehicle) and we arrived at Tikal around 4:45 that afternoon. Not wanting to partake in the tour, Steven and I quickly made our way into the park.
The park enterance is roughly an 8 minute walk from the parking lot on a wide, smooth, white clay path. Halfway into our entry walk, we were startled by a sound in the bushes followed by the appearance of a creature that looked somewhat like a racoon, but was definitely not a raccoon. The first creature was followed by a second, then a third, fourth and fifth. I think we counted more than 10 in all as they crossed the path behind us seemingly oblivious to our presence.
Elated at our first wildlife siting, we continued into the park. The excavated ruins of Tikal are spread out over an area of... a rather large area (ok, so I´m bad with numbers...) and we made our way to the Temples I and II, which reside in close proximity to one another separated by a large open grassy area. The mere size of the temples was impressive, the second of which yielded an even more impressive view of the surrounding area. From the tops of the towers you could see for miles - miles of lush green tree tops, occasionally broken by the weathered grey stone of another temple reaching towards the sky. The air was filled with the calls of birds, of which we had never heard the likes and we were treated to sitings of multiple pairs of green parrots and a few other species we were unable to identify.
Besides the towers, Tikal has ¨groups¨ of structures that served other purposes, containing small, cool rooms, sheilded from the heat of the day and maze like walkways leading from room to room. At the second place we stopped, we again heard rustling in the brush and looked to find a family of monkeys, swinging from the branches in the trees nearby.
We continued on from temple to temple, marveling in the size and the sheer age of the structures. We finally came to rest at the top of one of the temples to catch the sunset and to relax from our quick afternoon tour of the park.
As we were walking out of the park, we were treated with the site of another unidentifiable animal, somewhat like an enormous short haired guinea pig.
We had purchased a round trip shuttle ticket, but were surprised to find ourselves sitting in an almost empty parking lot 15 minutes after the last shuttle was to arrive. Fifteen minutes later, after the only other guests, also waiting on our shuttle, had convinced a passing taxi driver to give them a lift, I began to get a little worried. Luckily for us, the overwhelming amibility of the Guatemalan people once again manifested in the concern of a few local people as to our plight and their advice that we catch the last local bus, that luckily for us, had not yet left.
Frustrated with our shuttle service, but thankful to have a ride, we boarded the bus, kicking our way through what seemed like hundreds of empty plastic bottles and aluminim cans on the floor to one of the few seats with intact benches. With our drivers foot to the floor, we returned to Flores in record time.
The following morning we rose at 4:15 in order to catch the 5:00 bus back to Tikal. Again, hurrying into the park, we took our planned route as far away from the crowds as possible in order to increase our chances of a wildlife sighting. After the first 20 minutes of complete silence, save for the blood curdling roars of the howler monkeys in the distance, I was begining to get a little disapointed and began thinking that we might do better to turn back towards those monkeys, when we heard a fluttering in the bushes and looked to see a toucan not far from where we stood.
After our toucan siting, we turned back aways towards the park and began following the roars of a pack of howler monkeys that had begun their calls not too far from where we were. Buyoyed by the thrill of the chase, we picked up our pace. Walking out into a clearing, we found ourselves alone on a group of small ruins, the air around us crackling with the roars of a group of howler monkeys in the trees just above our heads. We spent half an hour or so marveling at our find until they made their way, branch by branch, into the surrounding forest.
We spent the rest of the morning seeing temples we had not seen before and marveling at our second group of toucans. As the temperature rose with the sun, we made our to a local restaurant for breakfast and then spent an hour or so in the on-site museums which house the majority of the detailed structures recovered from the park to protect them from further ravages of time, weather and tourism; as well as some really interesting Mayan artifacts, including an amazingly detailed depiction of Mayan Gods on a small peice of bone and the actual skeleton of a Mayan King found entombed in one of the temples.
After a last quick tour of the outer edges of the park and another monkey siting, we headed back to Flores for lunch and a rest before catching our overnight bus back to Guatemala City.
We arrived in Flores around five in the morning and decided against going straight to Tikal, desiring more to find a stable bed in which to get a little more rest and a room with a shower. We paid the shuttle to Tikal to take us to a hotel we had chosen and spent a few hours resting in our room. We planned to go to Tikal at 3:00 that afternoon in order to get a pass for the following day as well, so we went in search of something to do for the few hours before we left. I had read in the guide book that there was an animal rescue and rehabilitation center nearby, so we hired a boat to take us to ARCAS, where we recieved a tour and information about the sad realities of animal trafficing, local environmental conservation and fell in love with the monkeys.
We got back to Flores in time for a quick lunch and then to catch our shuttle to Tikal. Tikal is known as the ¨Center of the Mayan World¨ and has become a world heritage site showcasing numerious Mayan temples, only a small percentage of what is believeed to be the world´s largest Mayan ruins. The trip from Flores to Tikal takes about an hour and a half (depending on the driver and the state of your vehicle) and we arrived at Tikal around 4:45 that afternoon. Not wanting to partake in the tour, Steven and I quickly made our way into the park.
The park enterance is roughly an 8 minute walk from the parking lot on a wide, smooth, white clay path. Halfway into our entry walk, we were startled by a sound in the bushes followed by the appearance of a creature that looked somewhat like a racoon, but was definitely not a raccoon. The first creature was followed by a second, then a third, fourth and fifth. I think we counted more than 10 in all as they crossed the path behind us seemingly oblivious to our presence.
Elated at our first wildlife siting, we continued into the park. The excavated ruins of Tikal are spread out over an area of... a rather large area (ok, so I´m bad with numbers...) and we made our way to the Temples I and II, which reside in close proximity to one another separated by a large open grassy area. The mere size of the temples was impressive, the second of which yielded an even more impressive view of the surrounding area. From the tops of the towers you could see for miles - miles of lush green tree tops, occasionally broken by the weathered grey stone of another temple reaching towards the sky. The air was filled with the calls of birds, of which we had never heard the likes and we were treated to sitings of multiple pairs of green parrots and a few other species we were unable to identify.
Besides the towers, Tikal has ¨groups¨ of structures that served other purposes, containing small, cool rooms, sheilded from the heat of the day and maze like walkways leading from room to room. At the second place we stopped, we again heard rustling in the brush and looked to find a family of monkeys, swinging from the branches in the trees nearby.
We continued on from temple to temple, marveling in the size and the sheer age of the structures. We finally came to rest at the top of one of the temples to catch the sunset and to relax from our quick afternoon tour of the park.
As we were walking out of the park, we were treated with the site of another unidentifiable animal, somewhat like an enormous short haired guinea pig.
We had purchased a round trip shuttle ticket, but were surprised to find ourselves sitting in an almost empty parking lot 15 minutes after the last shuttle was to arrive. Fifteen minutes later, after the only other guests, also waiting on our shuttle, had convinced a passing taxi driver to give them a lift, I began to get a little worried. Luckily for us, the overwhelming amibility of the Guatemalan people once again manifested in the concern of a few local people as to our plight and their advice that we catch the last local bus, that luckily for us, had not yet left.
Frustrated with our shuttle service, but thankful to have a ride, we boarded the bus, kicking our way through what seemed like hundreds of empty plastic bottles and aluminim cans on the floor to one of the few seats with intact benches. With our drivers foot to the floor, we returned to Flores in record time.
The following morning we rose at 4:15 in order to catch the 5:00 bus back to Tikal. Again, hurrying into the park, we took our planned route as far away from the crowds as possible in order to increase our chances of a wildlife sighting. After the first 20 minutes of complete silence, save for the blood curdling roars of the howler monkeys in the distance, I was begining to get a little disapointed and began thinking that we might do better to turn back towards those monkeys, when we heard a fluttering in the bushes and looked to see a toucan not far from where we stood.
After our toucan siting, we turned back aways towards the park and began following the roars of a pack of howler monkeys that had begun their calls not too far from where we were. Buyoyed by the thrill of the chase, we picked up our pace. Walking out into a clearing, we found ourselves alone on a group of small ruins, the air around us crackling with the roars of a group of howler monkeys in the trees just above our heads. We spent half an hour or so marveling at our find until they made their way, branch by branch, into the surrounding forest.
We spent the rest of the morning seeing temples we had not seen before and marveling at our second group of toucans. As the temperature rose with the sun, we made our to a local restaurant for breakfast and then spent an hour or so in the on-site museums which house the majority of the detailed structures recovered from the park to protect them from further ravages of time, weather and tourism; as well as some really interesting Mayan artifacts, including an amazingly detailed depiction of Mayan Gods on a small peice of bone and the actual skeleton of a Mayan King found entombed in one of the temples.
After a last quick tour of the outer edges of the park and another monkey siting, we headed back to Flores for lunch and a rest before catching our overnight bus back to Guatemala City.
El Lago
After three days at the beach, we spent another night in Antigua at our hotel, which now felt quite homey (its funny how soon you can feel at home somewhere when you travel) and got up for the early bus to Panajachel on Lago Atitlan. We were treated to seats in the front of the bus, which although good for me because I wouldn´t get motion sickness, also made us privy to the countless cars that our bus driver almost ran off the road as we made our way to the lake.
Panajachel is the biggest, most developed town on the Lake, so we headed straight from the bus to the dock where we got a boat to San Marcos, the third most popular spot, much smaller than Panajachel and San Pedro, the first two, and known for it´s ¨spiritual¨ vibe. The lake itself is huge, deep blue and surrounded by volcanos and the towns around it are very well spaced, with the occasional house or hotel with lake views dotting the mountainside.
We arrived at Panajachel and were met by local boys who immediately offered to carry our bags. Apparently my bag was relatively heavy and there was a minute where it looking like my little bellboy was going to give way under the weight, but he adjusted the bag and proceeded to lead us to the hotel that I had hastly chosen out of our Lonely Planet. We were led through a laybrinth of tall green hedges and thick stone walls with restaurants offering local fare and saunas offering massages and herbal therapy treatments. After a brief three minute walk we arrived at the Unicorn, where we walked through a doorway into an open courtyard filled with trees and surrounded by tiny A-frame buildings, each housing a single room. We were lucky enough to get the last available room.
We settled in and found a local vegetarian restaurant for a lunch of vegetarian burrios and fruit juice, before catching a boat to San Pedro to check out the sites. When we arrived in San Pedro, I was immediately glad that we had decided to stay in San Marcos. The dock at San Pedro is flanked with bars and restaurants and just up the ramp, the main streets is lined with gift shops, tour agencies and countless Spanish language schools. We spent some time wandering around the town, which turn out to be much less touristy, and much bigger than we had originally imagined, once you made your way up the hill and away from the lake. After our walk, we found a great spot to swim after climbing down the rocky side of a steep decline dropping into the lake. The water was cold, but clear and refresing, and the view was beautiful.
After our dip, we made our way back to the dock, where we had nachos and beers while we waiting for the last boat back to San Marcos. We found our waiter, as well as all of the men working (or sitting on) the dock to be extremely friendly and all made for a great ¨this is exactly why I travel¨ moment.
We returned to San Marcos and decided to skip the movie that was being shown at the local Pizza restaurant and instead had dinner at Paco Real, a hotel and restaurant that serves delicious food in a romantic environment (candlelight and fireplace). I enjoyed my meal, but enjoyed Steven´s even more and he graciously allowed me to partake of both.
The following day, we caught the boat back to Panajachel, throughly enjoying our seats on the bow which allowed for a 360 degree view of the lake and the surrounding villages, where we caught our bus back to Guatemala City.
Panajachel is the biggest, most developed town on the Lake, so we headed straight from the bus to the dock where we got a boat to San Marcos, the third most popular spot, much smaller than Panajachel and San Pedro, the first two, and known for it´s ¨spiritual¨ vibe. The lake itself is huge, deep blue and surrounded by volcanos and the towns around it are very well spaced, with the occasional house or hotel with lake views dotting the mountainside.
We arrived at Panajachel and were met by local boys who immediately offered to carry our bags. Apparently my bag was relatively heavy and there was a minute where it looking like my little bellboy was going to give way under the weight, but he adjusted the bag and proceeded to lead us to the hotel that I had hastly chosen out of our Lonely Planet. We were led through a laybrinth of tall green hedges and thick stone walls with restaurants offering local fare and saunas offering massages and herbal therapy treatments. After a brief three minute walk we arrived at the Unicorn, where we walked through a doorway into an open courtyard filled with trees and surrounded by tiny A-frame buildings, each housing a single room. We were lucky enough to get the last available room.
We settled in and found a local vegetarian restaurant for a lunch of vegetarian burrios and fruit juice, before catching a boat to San Pedro to check out the sites. When we arrived in San Pedro, I was immediately glad that we had decided to stay in San Marcos. The dock at San Pedro is flanked with bars and restaurants and just up the ramp, the main streets is lined with gift shops, tour agencies and countless Spanish language schools. We spent some time wandering around the town, which turn out to be much less touristy, and much bigger than we had originally imagined, once you made your way up the hill and away from the lake. After our walk, we found a great spot to swim after climbing down the rocky side of a steep decline dropping into the lake. The water was cold, but clear and refresing, and the view was beautiful.
After our dip, we made our way back to the dock, where we had nachos and beers while we waiting for the last boat back to San Marcos. We found our waiter, as well as all of the men working (or sitting on) the dock to be extremely friendly and all made for a great ¨this is exactly why I travel¨ moment.
We returned to San Marcos and decided to skip the movie that was being shown at the local Pizza restaurant and instead had dinner at Paco Real, a hotel and restaurant that serves delicious food in a romantic environment (candlelight and fireplace). I enjoyed my meal, but enjoyed Steven´s even more and he graciously allowed me to partake of both.
The following day, we caught the boat back to Panajachel, throughly enjoying our seats on the bow which allowed for a 360 degree view of the lake and the surrounding villages, where we caught our bus back to Guatemala City.
Monterrico y el mar
After spending a day and a half in Antigua, we were headed to the beach. Steven likes to visit a beach in all of the countries he travels to, so I added Montericco to our itinerary, a beach that we had heard was chill and untouristy - our kind of beach. I had read that there were direct shuttles to Monterrico from Antigua for $8 USD, but when I began to ask around, I found that many did not run on Sundays, the day we had hoped to leave. Not one to give up, I persevered and found a shuttle with a travel agency quite near our hotel that offered service on Sundays.
Sunday morning, we were up early, packed and waiting at the door of the travel agency at 7:50 a.m. By 8:15, I was beginning to get worried and began mentally constructing plan B. We decided to hang out until 9:00 and then decide what to do. Luckily for us at 8:30 we were approached by a man who asked us if we were waiting for the bus to Montericco and explained that the bus could not come down that street because the streets were blocked off for the procession, but that he would lead us to the bus. Relieved, we headed off after him.
The ride to the beach was blissfully comfortable (with only five of us in a shuttle meant for many more) and we were able to sit back and enjoy the scenery as the fields and volcanos of Antigua gave way to the plains of the south and a variety of fruit trees the likes of which I have never seen.
The shuttle dropped us off on the main street of Monterrico and Steven and I trudged out to the beach complete with hiking boots and packs, unaware of the alternative road along the beach at which we had been dropped. When we reached the beach, we were greeted with the site of hundreds of Guatemalans enjoying their Sunday afternoon on a wide beach of dark black sand peppered with what seemed like months of garbage. We made our way through the trash and the hoard of families and soon found ourselves, not far past, on a very clean, but very black, stretch of beach. After dismissing the first room we were shown, we found a great room in a tropical looking hotel with a restaurant on the beach, hamocks, a pool and a room with a window to the sea, where we settled in for a two days of relaxation.
I had read that the water in Montericco was rough, but I had not been prepared for the constant barrage of six foot waves, a few of which I thought would take me to an early grave. During the time we spent in Montericco, I spent a few hours each day in the water braving the waves, but spent more time watching Steven brave the sea from more prefered perches on the beach or lazing in a hammock.
One morning, we rose early for a boat ride through the local mangroves and I practiced my Spanish, alternatively listening to the guide and translating for Steven. I probably understood about 70% of what he said, but I think we got a good idea of the conservation efforts in the area as well as a lot of information about local plants and birds.
After Sunday, the beach was deserted and on Tuesday, even our hotel was deserted (by the owners and all the other guests) so we spent the days relaxing in the sun and the evenings enjoying the local food, the stary skies and the constant roar of the restless waves.
Sunday morning, we were up early, packed and waiting at the door of the travel agency at 7:50 a.m. By 8:15, I was beginning to get worried and began mentally constructing plan B. We decided to hang out until 9:00 and then decide what to do. Luckily for us at 8:30 we were approached by a man who asked us if we were waiting for the bus to Montericco and explained that the bus could not come down that street because the streets were blocked off for the procession, but that he would lead us to the bus. Relieved, we headed off after him.
The ride to the beach was blissfully comfortable (with only five of us in a shuttle meant for many more) and we were able to sit back and enjoy the scenery as the fields and volcanos of Antigua gave way to the plains of the south and a variety of fruit trees the likes of which I have never seen.
The shuttle dropped us off on the main street of Monterrico and Steven and I trudged out to the beach complete with hiking boots and packs, unaware of the alternative road along the beach at which we had been dropped. When we reached the beach, we were greeted with the site of hundreds of Guatemalans enjoying their Sunday afternoon on a wide beach of dark black sand peppered with what seemed like months of garbage. We made our way through the trash and the hoard of families and soon found ourselves, not far past, on a very clean, but very black, stretch of beach. After dismissing the first room we were shown, we found a great room in a tropical looking hotel with a restaurant on the beach, hamocks, a pool and a room with a window to the sea, where we settled in for a two days of relaxation.
I had read that the water in Montericco was rough, but I had not been prepared for the constant barrage of six foot waves, a few of which I thought would take me to an early grave. During the time we spent in Montericco, I spent a few hours each day in the water braving the waves, but spent more time watching Steven brave the sea from more prefered perches on the beach or lazing in a hammock.
One morning, we rose early for a boat ride through the local mangroves and I practiced my Spanish, alternatively listening to the guide and translating for Steven. I probably understood about 70% of what he said, but I think we got a good idea of the conservation efforts in the area as well as a lot of information about local plants and birds.
After Sunday, the beach was deserted and on Tuesday, even our hotel was deserted (by the owners and all the other guests) so we spent the days relaxing in the sun and the evenings enjoying the local food, the stary skies and the constant roar of the restless waves.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Volcan Pacaya
One of the most popular tourist attractions in Antigua is the trek to the top of one of the areas active volcanos, Volcan Pacaya. We left the city at 7:00 a.m. for the hour and a half drive to the place where we would begin our climb.
We drove through small towns and country roads before coming to the base of a mountain (volcano?) where we began a 30 minute ascent, ending at the Volcan Pacaya Visitor Center where we met a guide who would lead us up to the top. Steven overheard someone asking about the risk involved in the trek and the answer assuring them that we would not be climbing all the way to the top so there was very little risk involved. At this point, we were also offered walking sticks by little local entrepreuners, but declined, although many in our group chose to use them.
The first portion of the hike was up a steep paved sidewalk through local villages and shaded by numerous trees. Our guide stopped every 15 minutes to allow us to rest and to point out the beautiful vistas of the surrounding countryside. The paved walk eventually gave way to a dirt path through denser trees as we left the villages behind. This part of the path wasn´t as step and was a pleasurable climb. When we reached the area where we came out of the trees, our path continued through a relatively level grassy area with striking views of both the top of the volcano we were about to climb and the surrounding countryside (including various volcanos in the distance). I think I used up an entire roll of film (luckily Steven had a digital).
When we reached the "base" of the top of the volcano, we wondered if this was where we stopped, remembering the assurance we had heard earlier, but we soon found that we were going to climb all the way to the top and we were both thrilled.
The last 20 minutes of the climb was the hardest, but for me, the most enjoyable, because the top of the volcano is covered with tiny volcanic rock and for every step you took up, you would roll back down half a step. At one point, I found that I was literally walking in place, although with great effort. Steven and I were proudly the first two (behind the guide) to reach the top.
When we arrived at what we thought was the top, we were met with the site of an enormous lava flow just cooling from the day before. I was alternatively amazed and slightly disappointed that we hadn´t been there the day before. While we waited for the rest of the group to catch up, we heard explosions from inside the volcano that sounded like the slamming of an enormous door.
When the rest of the group arrived, we started off around the crater to the highest point we could go, but not before our guide, warned us not to run when we heard the explosions because it would be easy to fall down the side of the volcano, ¨Tranquillo, chicos. Tranquillo. No corre. Tranquillo.¨
At the top, we did hear several loud explosions complete with hot lava rocks shooting out of the crater and once we even saw lava. Unfortunately we were only able to stay for about 10 minutes, after which we were herded back around the crater where we started our descent.
While I throughly enjoyed the hike up and the experience at the top, my favorite part by far was the way down. Because they volcano is covered in little volcanic rocks, you slide down more than you walk and if you get your balance right, you can practically ¨ski¨ all the way down. As we sat at the bottom emptying our shoes of a good half pound of rocks, I contemplated climbing all the way back up just so I could slide back down.
We drove through small towns and country roads before coming to the base of a mountain (volcano?) where we began a 30 minute ascent, ending at the Volcan Pacaya Visitor Center where we met a guide who would lead us up to the top. Steven overheard someone asking about the risk involved in the trek and the answer assuring them that we would not be climbing all the way to the top so there was very little risk involved. At this point, we were also offered walking sticks by little local entrepreuners, but declined, although many in our group chose to use them.
The first portion of the hike was up a steep paved sidewalk through local villages and shaded by numerous trees. Our guide stopped every 15 minutes to allow us to rest and to point out the beautiful vistas of the surrounding countryside. The paved walk eventually gave way to a dirt path through denser trees as we left the villages behind. This part of the path wasn´t as step and was a pleasurable climb. When we reached the area where we came out of the trees, our path continued through a relatively level grassy area with striking views of both the top of the volcano we were about to climb and the surrounding countryside (including various volcanos in the distance). I think I used up an entire roll of film (luckily Steven had a digital).
When we reached the "base" of the top of the volcano, we wondered if this was where we stopped, remembering the assurance we had heard earlier, but we soon found that we were going to climb all the way to the top and we were both thrilled.
The last 20 minutes of the climb was the hardest, but for me, the most enjoyable, because the top of the volcano is covered with tiny volcanic rock and for every step you took up, you would roll back down half a step. At one point, I found that I was literally walking in place, although with great effort. Steven and I were proudly the first two (behind the guide) to reach the top.
When we arrived at what we thought was the top, we were met with the site of an enormous lava flow just cooling from the day before. I was alternatively amazed and slightly disappointed that we hadn´t been there the day before. While we waited for the rest of the group to catch up, we heard explosions from inside the volcano that sounded like the slamming of an enormous door.
When the rest of the group arrived, we started off around the crater to the highest point we could go, but not before our guide, warned us not to run when we heard the explosions because it would be easy to fall down the side of the volcano, ¨Tranquillo, chicos. Tranquillo. No corre. Tranquillo.¨
At the top, we did hear several loud explosions complete with hot lava rocks shooting out of the crater and once we even saw lava. Unfortunately we were only able to stay for about 10 minutes, after which we were herded back around the crater where we started our descent.
While I throughly enjoyed the hike up and the experience at the top, my favorite part by far was the way down. Because they volcano is covered in little volcanic rocks, you slide down more than you walk and if you get your balance right, you can practically ¨ski¨ all the way down. As we sat at the bottom emptying our shoes of a good half pound of rocks, I contemplated climbing all the way back up just so I could slide back down.
Antigua
I met Steven at the airport and we made our way via taxi and "chicken bus" (old school buses from the states and Canada newly painted with loud colors and christened with names like "Juanita", "El Dorado", y "Señora Blaca").
I had heard that Antigua was extremely touristy and had been warned against visiting by numerous other travelers, but found it to be charming. The city is much smaller than Xela and seems much older. The city is littered with the ruins of old churches destroyed by earthquakes centuries ago and they are fascinating to see. There are definitely more tourist centered shops here than in Xela, but it is not touristy in the "Disney" sense of the word.
We found a room in an affordable guesthouse where the resident parrot amused us by alternatively laughing and crying in an amazingly human voice. We spent the afternoon relaxing and wandering around the city and turned in early in order to be rested for our trek up a local active volcano the following day.
Adios a Xela y Hola Esteban
Llego´ a Xela muy temprano en la mañana Domingo, porque tuvo´que encontrar Esteban en Guatemala (la cuidad) a las doce y media por la tarde. Estaba un poco triste para salir Xela, pero pensaba que fue possible que regressaria en el futuro.
Cuando estaba saliendo mi calle, encontro´ un hombre quien estaba caminando a trabajo y hable´ con el por cinco minutos mientras estabamos caminando hacia la parada de los autobuses. Estaba muy feliz que podia hablar con el solo en Español y entender todo.
Cuando llego´ en Guatemala, piense´ que todo fue un poco asustando y espere´ que cuando volve´ a la cuidad en cuatro meses, que podria hablar Espanol y sentiria mas confiado regresando a la cuidad solo, y quatro semanas despues, estuve´ mas confiado y tambien muy feliz con mi total experiencia aqui.
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I left Xela early Sunday morning because I had to meet Steven in Guatemala City at 12:30. I was a little sad to leave Xela, but I thought that it was possible that I would return in the future.
As I was leaving my street, I met a man who was walking to work and we talked for about five minutes while we walked toward the bus station. I was thrilled that I could carry on a conversation completely in Spanish with someone on the street.
When I arrived in Guatemala four weeks earlier, I thought that everything was a bit frightening and I hoped that when I returned to the city in four weeks that I would be able to speak Spanish and that I would feel more confident traveling back to the city alone and four months later, I felt much more confident and quite pleased with my previous months experience.
Cuando estaba saliendo mi calle, encontro´ un hombre quien estaba caminando a trabajo y hable´ con el por cinco minutos mientras estabamos caminando hacia la parada de los autobuses. Estaba muy feliz que podia hablar con el solo en Español y entender todo.
Cuando llego´ en Guatemala, piense´ que todo fue un poco asustando y espere´ que cuando volve´ a la cuidad en cuatro meses, que podria hablar Espanol y sentiria mas confiado regresando a la cuidad solo, y quatro semanas despues, estuve´ mas confiado y tambien muy feliz con mi total experiencia aqui.
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I left Xela early Sunday morning because I had to meet Steven in Guatemala City at 12:30. I was a little sad to leave Xela, but I thought that it was possible that I would return in the future.
As I was leaving my street, I met a man who was walking to work and we talked for about five minutes while we walked toward the bus station. I was thrilled that I could carry on a conversation completely in Spanish with someone on the street.
When I arrived in Guatemala four weeks earlier, I thought that everything was a bit frightening and I hoped that when I returned to the city in four weeks that I would be able to speak Spanish and that I would feel more confident traveling back to the city alone and four months later, I felt much more confident and quite pleased with my previous months experience.
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