Bali from Guatemala

At the risk of confusing everyone about where we are, let us explain:  We are STILL IN GUATEMALA and continuing to have an exciting time  (Sizemores go home in the morning and  and the Lauermeirers arrive in the afternoon--but more about that in our next Guatemala BLOG).  In the meantime, we  ARE on vacation and we have some time on our hands.  So we're polishing off books we've been meaning to finish, playing Words with Friends, flossing more regularly, etc.  A major accomplishment is that Linda has FINALLY assembled her picture album from last September's trip to Bali.  A little delayed, but worth the wait!  See her album at the link below, and stay tuned for Ripping Yarns of volcanic eruptions, Lenten Debauchery, convoluted financial transactions, and more and more hiking!




https://picasaweb.google.com/110361796458981119336/2011Bali?authkey=Gv1sRgCNOV6ODz7LbTMA&feat=email#

Local Crime Wave Hits Duo; Having Fun Anyway

Our adventures continue.  The story is best told in pictures, though, and Linda has put together a couple of albums whose links can be found below in this post.    

We took a three-hour bus ride last week to Chichicastenango on their market day—the world-famous local market was an amazing spectacle of sounds and sights.  They were selling all manner of local fare—Linda wanted to buy a live turkey, but Roger prevailed (would they have charged us additional bus fare on the return trip?). Santo Tomas, the main church in Chichi, was quite amazing. It is a Catholic church built in 1545 on the base of a Maya temple the Spanish destroyed. The Maya influence survives and it is incredible. Both sides of the cathedral are lined with small shrines to various saints, where one can light a candle or give a cash offering and perhaps get a little saintly intervention. This is pretty normal for a Catholic church.

However. The center aisle leading to the main altar has about a half-dozen low stone slabs, and they are most definitely Maya.  Each wax-coated stone slab has a particular purpose: prosperity, health, fertility, and anything else one might worry about. Local families can contract with their local shaman (there are lots of them) for help with their particular problems. The shamans light candles and stick them in dripped wax on the slabs, surround the candles with flower petals, and sprinkle the petals with quetzalteco, a cheap local liquor. They then chant and pray. The local Catholic priest is good with this, and the combined Maya/Catholic rituals coexist quite happily. This is a far cry from Linda's personal Priest Pet Peeve: not letting non-Catholic baptized Christians take communion. End of rant.

We are hiking around town like Sherpas—we found a four-mile hike up the mountain above Antigua where the views are stunning and the roadside thieves so far have kept their distance. Not so in town.  Roger had his pocket picked at the Lenten Procession yesterday.  It was a fabulous experience (the Procession—not so much the pocket picking).  Roger has become something of a professional victim, having had his pocket picked twice in Rome and now once in Guatemala.  “I felt the hand in my pocket rummaging around,” Roger said later.  “I thought it was Linda.”  They only got about eight bucks, though.  Roger is planning ahead, thinking of places to stash the cash where the thieves can’t reach it.  Linda shudders.

Antigua is WAY more comfortable than we imagined.  It has an awesome colonial charm, and far too many great restaurants set in magnificent courtyards.  We hope the hiking equalizes the increased calorie intake.  We have a great and fascinating neighbor, Joan, who is here from New York studying Spanish FOR TWO MONTHS for the second straight year.  We hold her power of concentration and intellectual stamina in considerable awe. Not to mention her tolerance of obnoxious neighbors.

Our journey takes an exciting turn this week, as we entertain a succession of guests from the US, except for Ralf and Jane who are Canadian.  The Sizemores come down on Wednesday for a week, Ralf and Jane Lauermeier after that, and our friend Gail Nawrock the week after that.  We look forward to showing them some of the wonderful things we have seen, sharing some of our favorite restaurants and churches, and suggesting interesting places to hide their valuables.

See our Market album at:

https://picasaweb.google.com/110361796458981119336/2012TheMarketInGuatemala?authkey=Gv1sRgCIrsobr109XWRA&feat=email#
and a general Guatemala album at:
https://picasaweb.google.com/110361796458981119336/2012Guatemala2?authkey=Gv1sRgCJjMzoDA0YDRjAE&feat=email#

Pictures From Guatemala

We've been pretty sparse with the pictures, so here is a post dedicated to throwing up three albums from Picasa.  The first is general stuff from our first few weeks in Guatemala; the second covers our time in Antigua and Lake Atitlan with daughter Kate, who just left after a way-too short 6 days; and the the third documents a wild parade that passed by the house yesterday monring in honor of International Women's Day.  Man.  This town loves a good parade!

Roger and Linda in Guatemala (Part Uno)
https://picasaweb.google.com/110361796458981119336/2012Guatemala1?authkey=Gv1sRgCIOyxcWalvuPkQE#

Katie in Guatemala
Katie's Visit Album#

International Women's Day Parade
https://picasaweb.google.com/110361796458981119336/2012InternationalWomanSDayAntiguaGuatemala?authkey=Gv1sRgCIKAi9bB4u_rQQ#

Kate's Guest Blog

As I write this I am sitting on the ledge of our balcony, which is overlooking Lake Atitlan, drinking a glass of wine and listening to my parents attempt to shoo what we all hope is the hotel cat off of Linda's bed.  I've taken about 80 pictures of nothing but landscape but I don’t think any of them will completely do it justice.  My portion of the trip- a measly 6 days- is set up for the first 3 days in Antigua, the next 2 at Lake Atitlan, and the last day and a half back in Antigua.  But let me start from the beginning...

Lake Atitlan From our Balcony

 I arrived here in Guatemala on Thursday at about noon.  Even with the pictures and blog entries I had read leading up to this- along with the bit of international travel I'd already done- you still never know what to expect.  A few bumpy flights and a 40 minute taxi ride later we were in Antigua.  We had a relaxed first night in town, and walked around the park, had a great (albeit gigantic) dinner, and a quiet night at the apartment.  The next day was my solo adventure on the Guatemalan walking tour.  This was my parents' idea, and a fantastic way to spend the first full day in Antigua.  It gave me a great perspective and history lesson that I think is crucial to seeing a new place.

Our Cooking Class!

Quite A Spread!

The next day adventure was the cooking class- which I may or may not have insisted upon but I think was a great experience for everyone.  We met (and alienated) some really nice people, learned some new dishes, ate a great meal, and all in all had a really nice morning.  On the menu was a dish called Pepian – a traditional Guatemalan soup dish with vegetables, chicken, and rice. We also made chiles rellenos and tortillas. Making tortillas is easier said than done- I believe 3 were dropped by me alone, and I am almost certain that my dad has this on video.

Pepian – a traditional Guatemalan soup dish with vegetatable dinner

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We arrived in Lake Atitlan yesterday midday, and this has got to be one of the most beautiful hotel locations I've ever stayed in.  I am not ashamed to say that we spent the entire first afternoon lazing away on the terrace reading, napping, catching some sun, or a combination of all three.  Our dinner was served family style in the hotel restaurant.  The little cafe pushed all tables together to form a large L and was lit only by candle light.  We sat next to some lovely and interesting people, and while the food was not the best meal we have had since I’ve been in town (good, not great), the ambiance and atmosphere were outstanding.  Today was a little more of the pace we are accustomed to while traveling.  We woke up early, had coffee in the cafe (some more than others) and took a local boat/taxi across the lake to the town of San Pedro.  This is known for being a hippie back-packing commune, stuck in time.  So, sounds great.  After a VERY crowded, bumpy and wet boat ride via public "launcha" across the lake, we had breakfast at the dock in San Pedro and set about exploring the town.  To do over again, I would say this may the more interesting place to stay.  While our hotel is gorgeous, this town had a lot of coffee shops, restaurants, hotels, and most importantly, did not require a tumultuous boat ride to enjoy breakfast.

Farewell Dinner with the Old Folks

My time here in the country is about to end. We have dinner tonight, a 4- hour bus ride back to Antigua tomorrow where we will have dinner and will likely have time for little else.  I am going to leave here as anyone should leave a vacation; with several hundred pictures, a solid sun burn, and a little less money than when I started. My only regret is that I did not talk myself into taking more time off to spend in such an awesome place.

Spanish Class! Katie in Antigua!

Our Spanish Scool

One of the many thing many visitors do in Antigua is study Spanish at one of the dozens of immersion language schools here in town. Both of us have fared quite well over the years with the "point and grunt" linguistic technique which is useful in ANY country. But since Spanish is the ONLY language we even pretended to have studied, it seemed reasonable that we'd give this language instruction thing a shot.

We did our "research", reading Trip Adviser reviews until we found one that seemed good and, of course, cheap.  For $100, we get four hours a day with a private tutor for a week.  That's 20 hours. Of concentrated effort. Learning something new. What were we thinking?

Day One, 8 am. We were assigned our teachers, given a small notebook, and assigned tables in a small courtyard that we would share with our teachers. Linda's teacher is Miriam, and Roger's is Brenda. They are sisters, and are patient, chatty, and very kind. At the 10:00 break, we meet on the rooftop terrace to smoke(some of us) and compare notes.  The course is individualized; Linda is  improving her vocabulary and learning useful phrases, while Roger concentrates on "verbs and shit like that." By the time class ends at  noon, we are totally spent. We trudge home, eat a quick lunch, and sleep the afternoon away. Thought is impossible. That evening we try  to do homework, but realize that we have used up every bit of the Spanish language we know. There's NOTHING left. Can we cut class?

It is tough going.  We are increasing our vocabulary a little and we hope our pronunciation is improving, but it is unlikely that we will be engaging the locals in any philosophical discussions or learning from them the changing dynamics of their agricultural cooperatives under the new government.  No, our Spanish seems to be best suited to talking to other tourists who have taken the same Spanish classes; we all speak in the same cautious cadence in the same deliberate, and slow, pronunciation.  We atttempt to engage the locals in our business transactions, but they are somewhat aloof.  The Indians were interested in every intimate detail--why don't we have grandchildren?  How much money do we make?  The Guatemalans don't seem to give a shit.

Roger remembers part of a dialogue that he wrote for a homework assignment in10th grade Spanish( that caused him some trouble):
Q.  What did one Gay Cabarello say to the other Gay Cabarello?
A. Homo esta usted?

He has been carrying that chestnut around in his pocket for 45 years.  Will he have an opportunity to use it in Guatermala?  You bet!

Kate Arrives!

She Does!

Will She Know Us?

We get to cut class early today to ride with our taxi driver for an hour's drive to pick Kate up at the airport.  We have a sign to greet her at the exit that says "Kate" in case she doesn't recognize us.  It reminds us of a gag we pulled many years ago in Jamaica.  Roger and the kids met Linda at the little airport in Negril, and a very young Katie held a sign that said "MOM".   We met her puddle jumper on the tarmac (as you could in those pre-war years), and in the excitement it got jumbled around, with Katie wildly waving a cardboard sign that said "WOW".