Playing for the Home Team
On ruins, great guides, volcanoes and horse-riding.
When you last heard, Allison and I were in Antigua, Guatemala, looking forward to seeing our friends. Mom and three young adult daughters graciously drove to Antigua to pick us up, introduce us to a local jewelry store and candy store, and take us to a lovely restaurant on a hill outside Antigua before driving us to their adorable home in Guatemala City. While they have a number of gates and locks for security reasons, this house is so cozy, a home full of love.
We were there for approximately 2 hours before we all went to bed, because mom was also willing to take us to the airport for our domestic flight to the other side of th country first thing in the morning—we left the house at 5am. This is only half an hour early for her, because for her job, she can either leave at 5:30, giving her time to exercise, eat her breakfast and get ready (all at her office)at the office, or she could leave any later and spend all of that time in traffic. This city has some serious traffic! Her work at USAID is an extension of her passion for this country, wanting to see people elevated and able to earn livable wages.
The flight to Flores is less than an hour on a plane the size of many regional jets out of Grand Rapids, but the plane was nicer, they served drinks plus TWO snacks, and we touched down early. I had arranged for a guide for two days, because I did some of this scheduling last minute, and it was much simpler to book Marlon at GEM Trips than to try to figure it all out on my own.
Marlon was so kind and helpful, and this man has so much info in his head. He didn’t just spew facts at us, but whenever I asked a random question, he had a thoughtful answer. He has a masters in Education and Environmental Studies from a local university, and he obviously wants to share his country with more of the world.
He took us to Tikal, a major Mayan archaeological site where Mayans developed an advanced civilization that, in its heyday, made huge scientific and agricultural advances. Temples, palaces, ball courts, and much more are evidence of people who brought up families, loved to learn, took time to play, who worshipped gods as they understood them, and who eventually lost what they had in their efforts to be the most important, most powerful, most triumphant city. Things went well when they would, to steal Kacey Musgraves’ line, mind their own biscuits. When they started warring with invaders and with each other, things went downhill. Marlon is obviously proud of this heritage and wants to promote knowledge of it.
He stopped along the way to show us howler and spider monkeys hiding in the trees, a tarantula scuttling away from us down its hole, agouti and coatis invisible in the bushes, and toucans and motmots and numerous other birds. He told us the more recent history of the volatile road to democracy, including some times that the US contributed to that volatility.
The presidential elections here are coming up in June. Candidates have to be part of a party, so many create one. They can’t campaign until the last three months. Currently there are 22 candidates from 22 parties. They can only serve one term as president, so every election is a scramble, and they always end requiring a second round vote with the most voted-for candidates. Currently their president is a former comic who was voted in because people wanted change. He is apparently not politically skilled and some say corrupt. Who knows what will come next.
We spent the night and part of the next day in Flores, a lakeside town full of colorful buildings and winding streets. It’s a favorite of backpackers and hippies of all ages, with good restaurants and a laid-back vibe. The second day Marlon took us across the lake to see an unexcavated site of ruins, and he took us to see a little bit of village life. You have to be careful what you ask for, though, because I showed interest in seeing the village school (from the van, mind you) and he took us right in.
Feeling like intruders, we were greeted kindly by the principal and curiously by the students. In a simple 2-story concrete building with open-air windows, we saw creative and interesting rooms, caring teachers, and industrious students. Mothers were at work in an open-air courtyard cooking lunch with supplies purchased with money supplied by the government.
Allison told Marlon that if he went to her school, he’d find her locked in for the day. That took me by surprise, but she was dead on—this was a freer, more open school. It’s always good to be a bit humbled.
We flew back last night, took an Uber back to the house with a driver who started three weeks ago and was an eager learner of English. Since the traffic was bad, it took a while, and we had a lot of awkward but fun conversation with him. Allison’s Spanish teacher should be proud. Another night of going almost straight to bed, because this morning would be another early start.
Today we went to hike the Pacaya volcano. Well, three young women and mom hiked, while I trailed them on a horse...my foot and ankle have been bothering me for a while, and the walking at Tikal didn’t help any, so my friend arranged a horse for me! The hike isn’t that long but it is constant uphill with roots and rocks. But there is such a payoff. The volcano is active all the time, as we got closer we could see red lava running down, we could hear the hiss of steaming balls of lava rolling downhill. Eventually we came to a lava bed, a “river” of hardened black pieces of lava. As we crossed some of it, we came to hotter places. Jose Manuel, our guide, peeled a stick for each of us, then whipped out a bag of marshmallow so we could roast them over the lava!
The volcanoes are amazing and beautiful. They can also be deadly. About six months ago another volcano blew, killing 3,000 people. I asked if they’d had no warning; they had a little, but much the way some longtime residents of hurricane-prone areas don’t really think they are in danger, the same holds true here. Pacaya is always active, so it gets a lot of release. The worst recent eruption was in 2010. Many people lost their homes, including Orlando, the sweet older man leading my horse. But only one person died, a reporter who stayed too close too long to take pictures.
Orlando was sweet because he doesn’t know English, and my Spanish is severely limited, but he still wanted to show me things along the way. He pointed out a nest of birds eggs hidden in the rise of dirt next to the trail, showed me avocado trees with young fruit, and pulled off a few leaves that were soft, good for cooling your hot skin or, if you were in need, perfect as natural toilet paper. Reminded me of the resourceful ancient Mayans who found trees that provided a cotton-like fiber, or produced a wheat-like seed, or gave fruit that could be used as glue, produced gum, rubber and allspice.
After today’s horse ride, I have a couple of suggestions. First, try to find a horse that has adjustable stirrups. I am definitely not Guatemala-sized, and I’m pretty sure I looked a bit like an adult on a tricycle. Also, don’t include a horse ride up a volcano in your romantic vacation plans. The effect of leaning forward all the way up and leaning back all the way down is hard on your lower quadrants, and it doesn’t seem conducive to romance. I’ll say no more.
I’d also suggest using the Waze app to see more of the rural communities, because it definitely took us off the beaten track. If you are an intrepid driver, you will see an entirely different side to Guatemala. And if you take the wrong person, you will hear nothing but “Awwww!” at all of the dogs roaming the country roads. Allison wants to move here just to open a home for dogs.
All of the people guiding us here—-our friends, Marlon at Tikal, Jose Manuel at Pacaya, and Orlando, my horse-handler—-have been showing us as much of their country as they can. They’ve told us about the people, the beauty, the strength, the hardships, and all of the things they love. They care deeply for their country and their communities. It’s a revelation, the way they share what they love. I’m more determined to be that kind of host in the future.
When you last heard, Allison and I were in Antigua, Guatemala, looking forward to seeing our friends. Mom and three young adult daughters graciously drove to Antigua to pick us up, introduce us to a local jewelry store and candy store, and take us to a lovely restaurant on a hill outside Antigua before driving us to their adorable home in Guatemala City. While they have a number of gates and locks for security reasons, this house is so cozy, a home full of love.
We were there for approximately 2 hours before we all went to bed, because mom was also willing to take us to the airport for our domestic flight to the other side of th country first thing in the morning—we left the house at 5am. This is only half an hour early for her, because for her job, she can either leave at 5:30, giving her time to exercise, eat her breakfast and get ready (all at her office)at the office, or she could leave any later and spend all of that time in traffic. This city has some serious traffic! Her work at USAID is an extension of her passion for this country, wanting to see people elevated and able to earn livable wages.
The flight to Flores is less than an hour on a plane the size of many regional jets out of Grand Rapids, but the plane was nicer, they served drinks plus TWO snacks, and we touched down early. I had arranged for a guide for two days, because I did some of this scheduling last minute, and it was much simpler to book Marlon at GEM Trips than to try to figure it all out on my own.
Marlon was so kind and helpful, and this man has so much info in his head. He didn’t just spew facts at us, but whenever I asked a random question, he had a thoughtful answer. He has a masters in Education and Environmental Studies from a local university, and he obviously wants to share his country with more of the world.
He took us to Tikal, a major Mayan archaeological site where Mayans developed an advanced civilization that, in its heyday, made huge scientific and agricultural advances. Temples, palaces, ball courts, and much more are evidence of people who brought up families, loved to learn, took time to play, who worshipped gods as they understood them, and who eventually lost what they had in their efforts to be the most important, most powerful, most triumphant city. Things went well when they would, to steal Kacey Musgraves’ line, mind their own biscuits. When they started warring with invaders and with each other, things went downhill. Marlon is obviously proud of this heritage and wants to promote knowledge of it.
He stopped along the way to show us howler and spider monkeys hiding in the trees, a tarantula scuttling away from us down its hole, agouti and coatis invisible in the bushes, and toucans and motmots and numerous other birds. He told us the more recent history of the volatile road to democracy, including some times that the US contributed to that volatility.
The presidential elections here are coming up in June. Candidates have to be part of a party, so many create one. They can’t campaign until the last three months. Currently there are 22 candidates from 22 parties. They can only serve one term as president, so every election is a scramble, and they always end requiring a second round vote with the most voted-for candidates. Currently their president is a former comic who was voted in because people wanted change. He is apparently not politically skilled and some say corrupt. Who knows what will come next.
We spent the night and part of the next day in Flores, a lakeside town full of colorful buildings and winding streets. It’s a favorite of backpackers and hippies of all ages, with good restaurants and a laid-back vibe. The second day Marlon took us across the lake to see an unexcavated site of ruins, and he took us to see a little bit of village life. You have to be careful what you ask for, though, because I showed interest in seeing the village school (from the van, mind you) and he took us right in.
Feeling like intruders, we were greeted kindly by the principal and curiously by the students. In a simple 2-story concrete building with open-air windows, we saw creative and interesting rooms, caring teachers, and industrious students. Mothers were at work in an open-air courtyard cooking lunch with supplies purchased with money supplied by the government.
Allison told Marlon that if he went to her school, he’d find her locked in for the day. That took me by surprise, but she was dead on—this was a freer, more open school. It’s always good to be a bit humbled.
We flew back last night, took an Uber back to the house with a driver who started three weeks ago and was an eager learner of English. Since the traffic was bad, it took a while, and we had a lot of awkward but fun conversation with him. Allison’s Spanish teacher should be proud. Another night of going almost straight to bed, because this morning would be another early start.
Today we went to hike the Pacaya volcano. Well, three young women and mom hiked, while I trailed them on a horse...my foot and ankle have been bothering me for a while, and the walking at Tikal didn’t help any, so my friend arranged a horse for me! The hike isn’t that long but it is constant uphill with roots and rocks. But there is such a payoff. The volcano is active all the time, as we got closer we could see red lava running down, we could hear the hiss of steaming balls of lava rolling downhill. Eventually we came to a lava bed, a “river” of hardened black pieces of lava. As we crossed some of it, we came to hotter places. Jose Manuel, our guide, peeled a stick for each of us, then whipped out a bag of marshmallow so we could roast them over the lava!
The volcanoes are amazing and beautiful. They can also be deadly. About six months ago another volcano blew, killing 3,000 people. I asked if they’d had no warning; they had a little, but much the way some longtime residents of hurricane-prone areas don’t really think they are in danger, the same holds true here. Pacaya is always active, so it gets a lot of release. The worst recent eruption was in 2010. Many people lost their homes, including Orlando, the sweet older man leading my horse. But only one person died, a reporter who stayed too close too long to take pictures.
Orlando was sweet because he doesn’t know English, and my Spanish is severely limited, but he still wanted to show me things along the way. He pointed out a nest of birds eggs hidden in the rise of dirt next to the trail, showed me avocado trees with young fruit, and pulled off a few leaves that were soft, good for cooling your hot skin or, if you were in need, perfect as natural toilet paper. Reminded me of the resourceful ancient Mayans who found trees that provided a cotton-like fiber, or produced a wheat-like seed, or gave fruit that could be used as glue, produced gum, rubber and allspice.
After today’s horse ride, I have a couple of suggestions. First, try to find a horse that has adjustable stirrups. I am definitely not Guatemala-sized, and I’m pretty sure I looked a bit like an adult on a tricycle. Also, don’t include a horse ride up a volcano in your romantic vacation plans. The effect of leaning forward all the way up and leaning back all the way down is hard on your lower quadrants, and it doesn’t seem conducive to romance. I’ll say no more.
I’d also suggest using the Waze app to see more of the rural communities, because it definitely took us off the beaten track. If you are an intrepid driver, you will see an entirely different side to Guatemala. And if you take the wrong person, you will hear nothing but “Awwww!” at all of the dogs roaming the country roads. Allison wants to move here just to open a home for dogs.
All of the people guiding us here—-our friends, Marlon at Tikal, Jose Manuel at Pacaya, and Orlando, my horse-handler—-have been showing us as much of their country as they can. They’ve told us about the people, the beauty, the strength, the hardships, and all of the things they love. They care deeply for their country and their communities. It’s a revelation, the way they share what they love. I’m more determined to be that kind of host in the future.
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