As I have alluded to there is a huge cultural bias against extranjeros in Guatemala. I think this happens in many or most countries all over the world, but this is the first time that I am really feeling it. It’s out in the open; palpable.
The incident at the restaurant in Lanquin. Waiting an hour for coffee I had already paid for and never receiving it. Now, being overcharged by 100Q for a hotel and being told I was wrong repeatedly when I brought it to their attention. Fortunately, I have an innate ability to make friends; or perhaps a built-in friendly people finder that seems to get me through times like these.
I arrived via shuttle in Antigua’s Parque Central which contains, among other things, the Catedral de Sanitago. The Cathedral makes a great landmark to get your bearings if you don’t notice the giant Volcan de Agua rising up over all the buildings to the south of the city. I shoulder my pack, and pull out my only map of the area which is in my Lonely Planet.
Seeing this a local man walks up asking if I need anything information, and I tell him that I don’t need any help, thanks. I think I missed some of the nuance in Spanish when I said it because he looks slightly offended. A cursory examination of the map shows an STA Travel Agency a few blocks away. Sweet.
Almost. It appears that the STA agency has been replaced by an ice cream shop. No problem. There is an internet café down the street. Nope, that’s not there either. Checking my book, which is the most recent version, I note it was published 3 years ago. Oops. Now where to go to try and figure out where to stay tonight.
Antigu@net café is one block south and a half block west of el Parque Central in downtown Antigua. The shop boasts a wireless network, about a dozen computers with webcams, and a mean coffee menu. My initial impression was a little startling.
Seeing the sign on the door for an internet café, I walk in and find an empty desk in the entryway. I stop to ask the only worker in the café if I can use the desk to look at my book for a moment and find a place for the evening. He gives me a pained look and says, no. I check him again for confirmation and again he says no.
I need a place to camp for a few minutes, so I ask him how much internet is and he quotes me a reasonable rate. Within 30 seconds I am so hung up on the No, that I shoulder my pack again and make ready to head out the door, when a well dressed woman with gold tear drop shaped ear rings walks through the room. She is obviously at home here and seems in a position of authority, as she asks the desk worker what he is doing away from the desk. He tells her he is telling me to get out of their spare chair and she stops him. She turns to me and says in heavily accented English, “This is your house.”
A minute or so later, she comes back to me and asks what I am looking for in a place to sleep. I tell her it must be clean and I would prefer it be inexpensive. She doesn’t remember the name, but her friend owns a place 4tth Avenue South that has private rooms with hot water and breakfast included for $7 USD a night. This is a little high for the country, but would be a reasonable rate for a dorm room in such a great tourist town. I tell her that’s great so she writes down the address for me. She then proceeds to call the hostel for me and even checks the nights I need availability for.
Over the space of the next hour, Carla (that’s her name), has found me a replacement hotel since the initial idea was booked up that is even more outstanding, usually charging $40 USD a night, she has asked the owner to match $7. Carla then directed me to a tour agency nearby that books my pacaya trip for the next morning and when the Hotel charged me double and would not return the money when confronted, she called them up and asked them to stop jerking me around. As soon as I got back to the hotel, my extra 100Q was returned to me promptly.
My toe hurts.
Reginadawn Villa, the place that I wound up staying at, has just opened this week. The sign isn’t even hung out front. The place is the near definition of opulence after my recent string of accommodations. The beds are giant and fluffy. They come with comforters and good pillows. Breakfast is provided as well as afternoon coffee. There is hot water, giant showers, and a gigantic mural hand painted by the owner down one side of the inner courtyard. She doesn’t speak any English, but she weathers my at Spanish tirelessly and we usually wind up at an understanding. She taught me a new word, “curitas”, for Band-Aids needed to patch up my toe. Pacaya comes early tomorrow, 6 a.m., so I need to get to bed.
The real draw to Antigua is Volcan de Pacaya. It’s the only currently active volcano in Guatemala and is open to the public to hike with a park entrance fee of 40Q. Tour guides are included with the park entry price. Steeeks, are not.
Our shuttle stops in a city called San Francisco de Sale. As soon as the doors are open we are surrounded, literally being flooded by little children with inch thing 4 foot long walking sticks yelling, “Steek. Steeek.” When I politely decline I receive, “Es necesario!” in return. This lovely dance continues for about 5 minutes until a few of the ladies have purchased steeeks and our tour guide arrives and shoos them away.
We are Falcones, our guide tells us. So when we are hiking the mountain, if we meet any other groups, we should listen for our name to be called for instructions. The hike up is a mere 4 kilometers, making the round trip somewhat less than I walked in Tikal in a day. The difference is, this is quite uphill, and half of it is over loose volcanic rock; somewhat different and rather unforgiving if you should happen to take a spill.
The first kilometer is the hardest, getting my body to wake up and work. The second is still a little tiring. After that, my group is moving so slowly that I take off and catch up to first one group and then, passing them, another group while ascending. There are horses available for the easily tired or lazy. According to this picture though, just because you are too lazy to walk, doesn’t mean the horse is a good idea.
On the way to the top, I have plenty of time to stop and take some picture of the landscape.
At the top, there are even more picture opportunities.
Early on in the trip, our guide handed me a great stick for roasting marshmallows on, and coupled with the two fantastic schoolteachers from the Bay who are in Guatemala for ski week who brought a giant bad of overstuffed marshmallows, we have on hell of a lava roasting experience. The heat wind coming up the mountain carries all the heat from the lava like a convection oven and literally bakes the skin off your face within seconds. I had to cover up with a hat and bandana to keep my delicate gringo skin in place.
If you don’t watch your step, the rock beneath your feet won’t be rock and you’ll find your foot rapidly sinking into magma. All around us are cracks in the ground bearing testament to this.
And one idiot’s pair of shoes.
All in all, I come away unscathed and victorious!
Now back to Antigua for an afternoon of relaxation.
Just kidding. I have to get back to Antigua so I can figure out where the hell I am going tomorrow morning in El Salvador and see if I even have a place to stay once I get there.
Mas luego.
