Diversiones con volcanes y otros cuentos

This past weekend Ryan and I decided that we would just stay in Xela and take a day trip or two. So on Saturday we set out for destination Laguna Chicabal, which is a lake inside of a crater of an old volcano. Interesting, eh? It’s also a very spiritual place for the Maya people, and there are often altars and ceremonies taking place on the shores of the laguna. It wasn’t until we would attempt the hike itself that I would realize how painfully out of shape I am. The hike also reminded that me that I do in fact have asthma.

First things first, we made our way to the ole Minerva bus terminal and were ushered to a bus that would supposedly take us to San Martín Sacetepéquez. This bus didn’t seem right from the beginning. It was already practically full by the time we got on it, and people were saving seats for other people, which I’ve never seen happen before. Then the bus sat for at least half an hour, when these buses claim to leave every 15 minutes.. hmm.. We finally got on the road, already sitting three to a seat with people standing in the aisles. This didn’t bode well. On account of our hardly being able to see out of the windows and the simple fact that the driver never announced stops or where we were, we missed our stop in San Martín. I began to get suspicious when I had seen some sign saying “Laguna Chicabal” and the vegetation greeting my gazes through the windows was becoming increasingly more tropical in appearance. If we hadn’t gotten off we would have probably ended up at the Pacific coast in several hours. And I didn’t have my bug spray.

We asked our seat neighbors and they verified that we had in fact missed our stop and told us to get off the bus and catch one going the other way. They helped us shout to the driver to stop. So with everyone on the bus staring at us, we squeezed past them all (and I mean squeezed) and waited by the side of the road bordering a family’s small house and farm (where roosters were crowing and chickens were clucking) to wait for the next bus.

When the next bus picked us up, the money collector told us it was 10Q each to the laguna which didn’t make much sense cause we’d only paid 5Q from Xela and it was probably the same distance. I was too annoyed and confused to argue though, so the scoundrel wrangled an extra 10Q from us. I hope he feels proud.

This time we didn’t miss our stop and got off at the sign I had originally seen. We started our trek through a village within San Martín. A little child holding a ball looked at me and said very deliberately “Tu tienes gafas!” (You have glasses) I just said “Sí.” There wasn’t much else to say.

We continued on past women doing their weekly wash, more chickens, and watermelons. The views of the mountainous countryside were quite breathtaking at times, but unfortunately the clouds later obscured them. We had to stop and sit down several times so I could catch my breath. The hike was much steeper than I thought it would be for some reason… you would think that the word “volcano” would have triggered some kind of clue, but I guess not. I’m thinking I won’t be lining up to climb Volcán Santa María anytime soon.

After an hour and a half or so, (I couldn’t keep track of the time), we reached the actual entrance to the park where we had to pay our entrance fee. There were bathrooms, some little cabins, a soccer field, and what we thought was a comedor. It turns out it was just some little kitchen that a bunch of Australians were using, though. Go figure. There are many Australians in Guatemala. I find this interesting.

Anyway, now we began the actual hike towards the laguna—cause it was only make-believe before. We later realized that a microbus would take you from San Martín up to this entrance, but oh well. As we began the second leg of our hike, a little puppy started to follow us, which of course gave me great joy. I fed it two of my little tortino limón chips so he would be my friend forever, but alas, he eventually dashed off the trail into the woods. I guess he had better things to do.



We struggled up the path, (well I was doing most of the struggling), the steep, steep dirth path, past hikers on their way back down and little boys herding sheep and carrying wood on their backs. In spite of the beautiful lush plant life surrounding us, I was beginning to make my own pacts with the Mayan gods, if they would only find it in their hearts to make the path level off, just a little. Somehow, eventually, it did just that—before I even had to do any sacrifical bloodletting.



The rest of the hike was actually steeply downhill, which I knew would not be too fun on the return trip. As we finally saw the lake in the distance, and then landed upon the shores, it felt like some bad scene in a movie when the wanderer in the desert finally finds an oasis. I’m glad it wasn’t a mirage. We basked in the beauty and tranquility of the lake, finding ourselves a little picnic table near its shores where we could finally enjoy our little lunch. Since it was already about 3:00 pm at this point, there weren’t many people at the lake anymore. It was eerily quiet except for the sound of birds.

Here you can see a few pictures of the laguna, the mist settling over it from time to time, Mayan religious offerings in the form of flowers:








Unfortunately, we couldn’t linger at the lake long, because the park would be closing soon, and we had to catch us a bus back to Xela. As expected, the return hike began painfully as well, since what was downhill the first way, was now uphill. That soon passed, though, and the remainder of the trip was overwhelmingly downhill. We got back to the road in nearly half the time, but not before a little boy turned to us and said “Hola”, an then looked at Ryan and said, “Jari Póter.” Yes, even small isolated Guatemalan indigenous children think Ryan looks like Harry Potter. Ugh.

We waited by the side of the road for the damn bus again. When we saw it coming down the road towards us, we hailed it, but the driver just waved and kept driving! It was that same company as the other two buses we’d had problems with earlier in the day. We didn’t have too long to be annoyed or frustrated, however, because immediately after the bus left us in the dust, quite literally, a toyoto pick-up truck, (or picop as the Guatemalans would say), pulled over and asked us if we needed a ride to Xela. !!! The woman looked pretty trustworthy, so without allowing ourselves too much time to think it over, we hopped in the back of the picop, next to a strange plant and two other men trying to get somewhere—and that’s how I hitchhiked for the first time in my life. I felt just like Jack Kerouac, except in Guatemala and without the drinking problem… or maybe like Sissie Hankshaw but without the oversized thumbs and a love of cowgirls. Right, you get the idea.

It was amazing how much more visibility of our surroundings we had, sitting in the open air of the truck, flying down the road. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, and it was even better when the first two men left and we were able to take their spots.



We were back to Xela in no time. We hopped out of the truck, and asked the woman how much we owed her, to which she replied, nothing. Dumbstruck, we relayed our thanks, and they zoomed back down the road. It was reaffirming to encounter such kind folks after the rudeness we were met with from the likes of the Xelaju bus company.

After the long, strenuous day, we decided to indulge in a pizza. Ryan had found some coupon that claimed to give you one free medium pizza at pizza hut. We tried it out, but the employee informed us that all it was good for was one specialty pizza, and instead of the regular 104Q price it would be 94Q… We didn’t see how that made any sense, so we just left, and got a cheaper pizza at the Dominoes in the mall. Take that. It even came with free brownies.

And that concludes the story of how for the first time in my life I climbed a volcano, hitchhiked, and ate lime flavored tortino corn chips in the same day. (Okay that last thing isn’t that important, but I needed a third thing.)

Everything else has been going fine, for the most part. We have been meeting a few other people who live in this house, one who is a girl from Quebec who is pretty nice and has her own juicer, and the other is a guy from Toronto who has been for a year, making enough to live on by playing online poker for a few hours a day. Incredible.

On Sunday we were going to take another day trip but we too worn out from the hike to do much. We instead saw El ultimo rey de Escocia (The last king of Scotland) It was good but sad.

For Trama, I’m doing more research and I might start interviewing women in some of the villages that make up the cooperative, which I’m excited about.

I teach three English classes a day now from 4-7, and I’m hoping to pick up another one at 3. We’ll see. My level one student didn’t show up yesterday, and I wouldn’t be too sad if he didn’t come back, as teaching him is quite a struggle. He’s either not trying or just really slow. I like my other two students, though.

I’m missing everyone a lot, as is inevitable, and I hope everyone is doing well. Come visit me?

My legs still hurt from the hike.