Guatemala a sirvirle

 On our last Saturday in Guatemala we woke as always before the sun, but this day we were treated to one of the most spectacular sunrises we have seen on the trip.  The day was clearer than what we had come to expect in San Pedro and the mountains surrounding the lake were clearly visible.  We decided to take fully advantage of the day and hiked with the doggies past the end of our usual walk and up into the hills.  The view was amazing and we both understood why so many people who come here for a few days end up staying and putting down roots in this little lake side village.

We have been in Guatemala for 7 weeks and as we prepare to leave I look back on our time here with what I hope is a better understanding of the country than when I arrived.  Guatemala is a beautiful country, with the cool mountain rain forests, the jungle and the pacific coast to entertain any type of visitor, but it is the people who truly make this country worth visiting.

The country struggles with the poverty typical of a third world system and division between the rich and the poor that is difficult for me as a US citizen to understand.  In Guatemala City the tension is palpable, the armed guards at every gas station and on every truck and the electrified security systems that are layered on top of the bobbed wire on every house, it was the only place that I felt unsafe.   In the smaller more touristy city of Antigua the poverty is less noticeable but it is still there in the children begging on the street or who have found employment selling everything from bananas to hand made string bracelets rather than going to school which is neither free nor compulsory. 

Into the countryside where fire wood is collected on a daily basis, if not for heat then for cooking and women wash clothes, their children and themselves in rivers and lakes because their houses don’t have water.  So many people dream of going to the United States to find work and finally be able to save money, something that here they can’t do.  They have examples of how that is possible, like the woman who gave us directions, in perfect English, to a hotel in the middle of nowhere, her family had returned from New Jersey and with the money earned there were able to live in a style different than the average Guatemalan.

Yet with the “American Dream” alive and well in Guatemala so is the Mayan Culture that has disappeared from so many other Central American countries.  For the Indigenas Spanish is not a first language, and for some it isn’t spoken at all.  There are more than 30 Languages spoken in Guatemala, each area has its own.  Each area also has a style of dress that distinguishes it from its neighbor, in the North the women wear full pleated skirts and lace blouses and in Lake Atitlan the style of skirt is tighter and blouses are embroidered with flowers, but both are more colorful than anything worn in the States.

Even with the poverty the people are so friendly and welcoming to visitors.  Walking down the street everyone greets us with a “Buenos Dias” or a “Buenas Tardes”, they ask us our names, where we are from, how long we will be in their country and make us feel welcome.  When we thank the waitress who has brought us our food or the Tuk Tuk driver for dropping us at our house or even the butcher for the meat, the response is always the same A Sivirle… to serve you.

Culture Shock grilled to perfection

Lake Atitlan is the largest and deepest lake in Guatemala, the water has risen quite a bit in the last few years so many of the building that were built on the shore are now underwater.  Though we drove into San Pedro you can also arrive by boat, there are two docks one that goes to Panajachel and the other that goes to Santiago.  The “Pana” dock is the bar zone, the Santiago Dock is on the more relaxed “good side” of town.  Between the two and up a steep climbing street is “El Centro” which holds the Mercado and Catholic Church.  Zigzagging between these three points are tiny cobbled stone streets lined with houses, shops and restaurants.

The population of the town is divided between the points as well.  El Centro is where most of the local’s live, the women all wear the most beautiful weaved skirts and frilly tops and the old men wear traditional outfits of weaved pants, a sash (sometimes it resembles a skirt), a weaved shirt and a cowboy hat and machete, they are a hodgepodge of colors and patterns, while the younger men have opted for western style clothing of jeans and golf shirts.

 

 

 

 The area south of the Santiago dock is a mixture of local’s homes and weekend vacation houses.  The further you get out of town the nicer the houses get, most are owned (or rented) by Foreign Expats and people who live in the capital and have the houses for vacations.  The area is also sprinkled with Agricultural plots and the smaller concrete block (or wood) houses with corrugated tin roofs, and no running water of the locals in the area.

Between the two docks is a small cobbled stone street (known as the Gringo path) that is lined with bars, language schools, mini markets, message studios, and restaurants selling everything from Pho to Irish Breakfasts with at least three Italian restaurants thrown in for good measure.

Walking down this path you can see the various “Gringo” groups that occupy San Pedro, the hippies (barefoot and sporting dreadlocks often selling homemade jewelry on the side of the path), the students (either those here to really learn Spanish or those here to party and go to school on the side) and the Ex-Pats those who came here for a week 7 years ago and stayed. 

During our first week in San Pedro we ate Lasagna and Gnocchi, Buffalo Chicken Wings, and found some fairly decent Curry and Kung Pao chicken, along with exploring the Mercado and barbequing at our house, fixing chili mac and even Chicken Picatta.  Still I don’t think that we were quite prepared for Smoking Joe’s Sunday BBQ.

We had seen signs advertising a BBQ that took place every Sunday at noon at a bar by the Santiago Dock, and the idea of a real BBQ with ribs and steak had us both excited.  We could smell the food a block away and saw the little bar “The Deep End” to the left of the dock, when we walked in it was like walking out of Guatemala and right back into the US. To begin with I don’t think that anyone who was there was a native Guatemalan, and I am fairly certain that most spoke limited Spanish (if any at all), and then there was the food, heaps and heaps of “Good Ole American BBQ” with sides like potato salad, Cole slaw, Mac and Cheese, Corn on the Cob and green beans.  The meat was to die for Beef and Pork Ribs, Chicken, Beef Tenderloin and the biggest hamburgers I have seen ever.  We also met some great people who were students with Fritz at the Spanish School Dan and Brigid a couple backpacking for two years through the Americans and Jeff from Arizona learning Spanish so he can move to Honduras and become a dive master.  Between the Bloody Mary’s, Gallo Beers and 5 Quetzal tequila shots the afternoon passed quite enjoyably. 

Dog Friendly Hotels and Hostels in, Mexico…

Warning, unless you are going to travel to Mexico with dogs this might be a boring post!

Ok just a note my husband and I are NOT really “shoe string budget” travelers, our goal is to keep the trip under $100 US a day, which we know for some is a fortune but this is where we stayed while we were in Mexico, and they all take dogs!  We also always got a private bath so you might be able to get a lower price at the hostals (they are more like bed and breakfasts) if you want to share a bath or will go for a “dorm room” style room.

San Felipe – Pete’s place RV camping, on the beach, dry toilets $15 US + $2 for showers

Gonzaga Bay – There are two places to stay in Gonzaga the second one (turn left at the store where the air strip is) is nicer.  Dry toilets no water.  We heard that if you drive about 15 to 20 minutes past there you will find another BETTER camping spot with water for less than the $15 US we paid

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Muelege – Hotel Muelege, warm showers, wifi, creepy man but with dogs he stayed away $50 a night

Loreto – Hotel Santa Fe, Kitchen, wifi, pool very secure parking $62 a night and a bit of a walk from the ocean but I loved this place, Fritz thought it was OK…

Bucerias (just north of Puerto Vallarta) – Corita Hotel (camping) we had a whole gated, locked beach front lot with a private bathroom a short walk away, they would let us use the pool and it was great $20 a day

 

 

 

Guadalajara – Hostal Querida Olga – Our favorite, cute right in the heart of Guadalajara with secure parking two blocks away which fit our 9 foot high truck. We loved this place, hot showers, wifi, shared kitchen, wonderful people $40 a night but parking is extra.

 

Teotihuacán – Hotel Quinto Del Sol – Expensive $70 a night, there is camping in the town but it was below freezing when we were there.  They were not thrilled about our dogs, especially since I made them sound small (like a poodle not a pit bull) but they let them stay and were fine with it in the end.  Pool, wifi, restaurant (expensive), bar.

 

Morelia – Hostal Casa Castillo - $40 a night parking extra, right down town great roof top deck.  The owner has 2 really small dogs but we were able to make sure they were gone when we left/entered the hostal.

 

 

Oaxaca – Hotel Casa Mercedes - $80 a night secure parking included, one block from down town.  Wifi, TV, Restaurant very nice people but expensive

Hualtuco – Hotel Plaza Delphinus - $40 a night parking in front of Hotel not secured but we felt fine about it.  Roberto and Blanca are the nicest people, he took us to the laundry and showed us where dog friendly beaches were, they offer breakfast in the morning for an extra charge and planned a pot luck BBQ for the guests when we stayed there, they  

My best advice to anyone is to use www.booking.com they have a search option for accept pets.  With that being said DO NOT PAY or reserve the room on booking.com as the information may not be correct and I have heard of more than one person whose credit card was charged but the hotel did not get the money.

 

 

Mosquitos and Spiders and Scorpions… OH MY!

This morning while making the bed a scorpion fell out of my pillow.  I am not sure what the worst part of this was, the fact that it was small (think baby but not the cute type, which means there are probably more), that it was black (therefore more dangerous) or that it was in my pillow!!!!

I remember watching a movie about a woman who had moved with her husband to Africa as one of the many British Colonists, I watched as the servants carted her china and set up tents so they could have a bush lunch and was amazed that anyone would be so stupid.  I think I get it now, at least a little bit better than I did.

I love our sense of adventure and awe with everything we are doing on this trip.  Seeing different cultures, how they live on a day to day basis, going to the Mercado to buy my food, living in a rented house, trying to mop the floors using a “Guatemalan Mop” and trying not to get shocked showering in a “Guatemalan Hot Shower”.  But upon finding a store that sold Balsamic Vinegar, Capers and Barrilla Pasta I was ecstatic, now I could cook a meal from home, make an approximation to a daddy salad and eat pasta that didn’t get really mushy when you cooked it.

I try to adapt to my new environment and wonder what the locals think of the white girl in their midst, but at the same time I feel like the woman from England in the movie.  Part of what I do is under the guise of health, boiling the water to wash the dishes, using only potable water to cook the rice, but I also know that part it is to make “here” feel more like home.  She did what she did because that was how it was at home and it was beyond her comprehension to do it any other way.

This morning as we moved the bed out from the wall so I could spray poison behind, around and under the bed, I wondered how much good that would do to keep the next scorpion out of my pillow and I wondered how much I will have to drink tonight before I crawl into bed so I can sleep.  Isn’t a hangover better than a scorpion bite?  I hope I never have to find out if it isn’t.

San Pedro… school in the morning but learning all day!

I don’t consider myself a morning person, yes I wake up before the sun every morning, but  I am not bright eyed and bushy tailed, and before my first cup of coffee it is best to leave me alone. This morning I chased a very loud bird out of a tree with a Frisbee because he was singing to cheerfully. My love/hate affair with sunrise started in Maui where there isn’t twilight in the evening but in the morning when the sun comes up it is hidden behind the Volcano Haleakala and for an hour or so there is twilight.

We have now been in the same spot for a little over two weeks, we have a routine and are settling in and resting up.  Our mornings start early, from our east facing front porch we watch the sun peak over the mountains that surround the lake turning the sky different shades of pink. We sit and watch until the caffeine hits my blood and we can take the doggies for their walk.  We are trying to teach them to be street dogs, or the American equivalent.  After getting to the dirt road far enough away from too many people and crazy tuk tuk drivers we let them off leash to go explore, they are getting better at staying with us, especially after Haole (our pit bull nick named Snuggles) got chased out of a house by woman with a big stick (he now has to be put back on leash when we get to the house or he turns around and tries to go home!) And they have learned that the proper way to meet a dog on the street is to sniff his/her butt and if the other dog growls to slowly back away. Kona still doesn’t realize that chasing timid dogs is looking for problems, as they usually run around a corner where the rest of their pack is waiting, but he is getting better about it.

After our walk we head to Fritz’s school where I use the free Wi-Fi to catch up on the blog, Facebook and email, while having either a Jiamaca Rosa or Limonada or sometimes Hot Chocolate with Ginger.  When he has his break I usually leave the computer (for him to carry home) and then walk up to the Mercado to find something to cook for dinner.  I already have my favorites at the Mercado, the butcher who learned English flirting with American Ex-Pats, the old lady who sells the tomatoes on the vine not the roma ones, the woman who brings her young daughters a few days a week and has the freshest looking broccoli and zucchini. 

Fritz is done with his school by noon and spends the next hour in the hammock resting his brain, then studies for an hour or so while I read and bird watch in the comfort of our back yard.

Dinner is usually a joint affair with me cooking the side dishes and him bbq’ing whatever chicken, beef or pork I found at the Mercado.  We eat dinner by candle light so we aren’t too bombarded by bugs (another reason I love sunrise fewer bugs) and also so we can watch the Fairies.  Every night at sundown we are visited by hundreds of Fairies that flitter from bush to bush and through the grass entertaining us, ok they are lightening bugs, tiny little blinking beetles, not the fireflies I have heard stories about that you can catch and keep in a jar, they are more like Christmas lights that flash 3 or 4 times in a row and then go dark for a bit.

With dinner dishes done, we turn on the computer and watch a movie, our TV for the night, and before it is finished I am asleep and during the night one of us (to be honest usually Fritz) gets up and turns the computer off, and our routine continues the next day.

Fixing the fixer…

When I was a little girl my mom was bit and badly injured by a brown recluse spider that came home with my dad in a banana box he was using to carry the groceries.  She had to go to the hospital and had a blood transfusion.  Even though I was way too young to remember this event it instilled in me a fear of spiders I have spent most of my life trying to overcome.

After securing the little apartment “casita” for the following 3 weeks we started to unload Moby.  I should say Fritz and two men we hired started to unload the truck, while I killed spiders.  Armed with bug spray that I am sure was made illegal in the US after the movie “Silent Spring” made our country aware of the dangers of insecticide, I ran around spraying every corner, nook and cranny.  I am sure that I killed thousands, well at least hundreds, ok there were at least 10 corpses of spiders.  These aren’t the small little wood spiders or even the daddy long legged variety, these were big black or brown hairy spiders as big as my palm.  I know many of you are disgusted with my behavior, and are thinking I should have let them live like Charlotte, and to that I say, re-read the first sentence and if they were in the barn they would still be alive, they were in what was becoming my house.  I was also relieved that first night that the electricity came on, we still didn’t have water, we were using our camp stove but the lights stayed on all night long as we slept on our mattress on the floor, with our sleeping bag liner completely zipped up, encircled by a perimeter of insecticide and at one point I almost killed my husband by running one of the clip on deet fans aimed at our heads (turned it off after his wheezing got really bad).

The next morning before the sun was up (but after I had already gotten out of bed escaping my nightmares of spiders) Rafael was there to hook up our water.  Water in Guatemala is pumped by the city (San Pedro de la Laguna) every few days into holding tanks, in our case it is then pumped from the holding tank in the back yard to the holding tank on roof.  We had to wait for the city to fill the first holding tank before we could get water into the house, and unfortunately that wouldn’t happen until later in the afternoon, so for another day we were without water.

Adjusting to the latest setback Fritz got started on the back yard cutting the grass with one of the men who had helped us carry down our things from the truck the day before. 

After about an hour of work, this guy showed up and the whole process went much more quickly.

Around one that afternoon the outside was done the helpers were sweeping out the spider webs from the ceiling and off the walls and I left in search of a mop and a bug bomb.  It quickly became clear that I wouldn’t find either in San Pedro, here I was quick to learn, you don’t use mops, instead you cut a whole in a towel put it over a broom and get it wet.  Also, there are no bug bombs only spray insecticide, so Fritz now spends every evening (and some mornings) killing any spiders brave enough to come out where I can see them and most days I go around in the morning, spraying the dark places of our house just to keep them out. 

Other than that, we have settled in quite nicely to our little house, and we love the convenience of a stove, a bathroom and having a place to stay, almost as much as the dogs love the back yard where they chase lizards during the day and toads at night.

We found a fixer…

Up until we moved to LA and the housing market collapsed around us Fritz and I had been buying, fixing and selling houses.  While I wouldn’t call us “house flippers” as we lived in each of them for a while before moving on to the next project, it was definitely how we made money and something that we loved doing.

We got to San Pedro on Monday, a day later than we had expected because after yet another wrong turn we found ourselves back in Panajachel, our first stop in Guatemala, circle completed.  Rather than try to figure out how to get to San Pedro that day we returned to a hotel that we knew would take our dogs and settled in for the night.  The next morning, armed with directions from the schools in San Pedro we set off, yes there were a couple of wrong turns along the way but undeterred we arrived at San Pedro right around 11:30 AM. 

Our first stop was the San Pedro Spanish School, unfortunately our huge truck would never make it down the tuk tuk only sized street but the school’s Director Ramon quickly came to meet us.  He took us to a little two story apartment that we decided was a definite no go, first it was down a kind of scary walking alley, second the bathroom was outside (not a huge deal) and third there was a high school looking down on the yard (and therefore the bathroom). 

 

He didn’t have the keys for the second place but had called someone to meet us there.  The second place was located down the same little alley but when Rafael (the gardener/handyman) showed up he suggested we go the other way down a nice little path which made us both feel better.  I think that for both of us the second house was love at first sight, two bedrooms, an open concept living kitchen area, a fully functioning bathroom and a great yard.  The yard was what sealed it for us, a safe fenced in place for the dogs with a view of the lake, as long as you didn’t mind the two flooded out buildings in front of the house which didn’t bother us at all.

Not knowing how much this palace would cost us and having another appointment at another language school with bungalows, we arranged to meet Ramon in an hour and went to Corazon Maya a few blocks away.  The school was charming and the woman who met us was very nice, the bungalows were fine, but compared to the little house we had just left it would have been a huge step down. 

 

We walked back to the San Pedro Spanish School talking about how much we would be willing to spend, the bungalows were $40US a week and the house was so much better, but the bungalows were all ready and the little house needed a huge clean-up, a stove, some major yard work and there wasn’t currently water or electricity.  At the school we explained our concerns to Ramon and asked him the price, after a few calls (we aren’t sure who he called as we later found out it was his house) he came back and told us it would be $1000 Quetzals for three weeks, a quick math problem and we figured it was $42 US a week, roughly the same as the bungalows, done, we had a home for the next three weeks!

Up a Mountain without a road…

After two really good days in Guatemala and the hope of an apartment, we decided to return to Lake Atitlan and San Pedro to get Fritz into school.  Consulting the map the most direct way to go was back though Coban and then cut over to Chimiltenango stay the night there and then to the school the next day.  With an early start I was fairly certain that we could get to Chimiltenango by around 3.  We stopped and to eat and get some dog food in Coban and then took off again still with plenty of time. 

We hit some really winding roads but everything seemed to be going well, we were a bit behind schedule and discussed stopping for the day but as it was still only 1 (our rule is try to find a place to settle in for the night by 3 or 4 at the latest) so we pushed on.  About an hour outside of the last town on our map we realized we had been going the wrong direction, we stopped at a gas station to double check and were informed that yes we had made a wrong turn but that it wasn’t a problem we could keep going and we would reach a town of Pachalum where there were hotels and was about 45 minutes from Chimiltenango. 

Following the directions to the City Square and Catholic Church, stopping to ask the nice policeman if we were on the right path we left the tiny town called I don’t know and headed up a steep mountain.  After about 3 miles the pavement ended but there was still a good gravel road so up we went, about 20 miles and 5000 feet altitude later the gravel was long gone but the dirt was well packed and we were headed down the other side… when the road forked.

We weren’t prepared for a fork in the road, we didn’t know which way to go, to our left was basically the right compass direction but on winding mountain dirt roads, a direction could change in a second, but left it was.  After a few minutes we saw a group of men (on horses) and of course stopped to ask directions, only one small hiccup with that idea, they didn’t speak Spanish, but indicated that we were definitely going the wrong way, further up the road we were finally able to turn around and coming toward us was a pick-up bus (the favorite mode of mass transportation on Guatemalan dirt roads a pick-up truck that people pay to ride in the back of since busses are too slow and they are cheaper than Combis), he thankfully spoke Spanish so we asked him for directions and he told us we had been headed in the right direction and he would wait for us to turn around again and we could follow him out. 

Once past the horsemen we found a place to turn around and caught back up with the pick-up bus passing the horse men for the third time to shouts of “otra vez” (again) and followed the bus while he dropped off his last two passengers.  Once they were out down the hill we went into the softest dust Fritz had ever driven in, it was so bad that not only could we not see in front of us but the tires started to skip like we were in water. 

Successfully navigating that stretch and on something that almost resembled a road the driver of the bus told us to keep heading down and we would be in town in about 10 minutes. Five minutes later we came to a fork in the road, guessing left, off we went hoping that we would see some sign of a town as it was now past 4 and we were getting more worried about having to drive after dark.  Up and then down a small hill we spotted a woman on the side of the road and out I jumped to ask for directions, in my best Spanish I explained that we were lost and asked if we were close to Pachalum and in perfect English she said yes we were just outside of the city asked where we were from, turns out she was raised in New Jersey and had been back for about 2 years to raise her daughter in the county where it is safer than the US.

With her recommendation of a good hotel we were off and 20 minutes later we were settled in drinking our first cerveza of the day, unfortunately 20 minutes after that I was expelling my cerveza and ½ hour later Fritz was in bed, both of us with the tourista, we spent two days in Pachalum and didn’t see anything outside of our hotel except for the few walks we took the dogs on, luckily for us it was a quick bout and we were able to finally get back on the road so Fritz could start school.