A few random notes about San Marcos...and Guate in general

...this is a photo of the shower at Acculax. It's built right into the rocks, out of the image is a boulder that juts out for a low table. The towel bar is a bit of coffee wood. Everything in Acculax is made local material, and no two rooms are the same. Of course, they were all built one at a time, with the next addition fitting where it would. Elegantly done, thoughtfully done.
















This is the house beside Posada Bosque Encantado, where Cecilia and her husband (we didn't meet him) and children live. I love the doors and the balcony!

















The single, tall thing in this photo is a tree.  San Juan la Laguna, from the San Pedro dock. I didn't see another tree as tall and straight as that one!

We've met a lot of young Eurpean, North American and South American men and women, taking advantage of their winter break from college classes.  But, most of those travelers have gone home now.  The travelers we're meeting now are mostly older people, looking for adventure, with a little bit of comfort.  A hotel with hot water, transportation that someone else arranges, good food.  All in an exotic, remote location.  Oh, and warm weather!

In between all the travelers, we're spending time talking with locals.  Often, a man will strike up a conversation with one of us.  If Stuart is the object of the question, he'll call me over, and I do the listening.  Many of the men we've talked to have been in the US for a short time.  Two things strike me about their stories:  they are VERY proud they've been to the US; and they are VERY proud of the jobs they had.  Many worked in landscaping and construction jobs.  I asked them all about their jobs, if they were good jobs.  The response I got, each time, was a big grin, and an emphatic yes.  I usually heard how much money they made, too.  $10/hour.  That's more than some people earn in a day.  I also learned they are VERY happy to be back home, and always grinned when I said, "Bienvenidos a Guate!"  (Welcome to Guatemala!)  When I asked if they were considering going back to work, the answer was always no.  It's too expensive.   I never heard that it was dangerous, and if I asked about the danger, I got a shrug in response. A coyote cost $5,000US, we heard several times.  And, that's from the Mexican/US border; they have to travel through Mexico first.  I met three young men traveling together one day, they were from Honduras.  We spent time looking at my Guatemala and Mexico maps, talking about their plans and dreams, and they practiced their little bit of English.  They told me they were heading for the Mexican border, in Chiapas, where they heard there was work.  I can't imagine the desperation that would cause someone to illegally cross two international borders, just to find work. 

More than once, I was asked to write down some basic English words.  They wanted to be able to say, 'how are you?' mostly.  'please', 'thank you', and 'good morning' were also requested.  One man asked me how much his quetzales are worth in US dollars.  They all told me about their families: siblings and parents, spouses or girlfriends sometimes,  and children.  They asked about our families and jobs, where we were going, and how long we'd be there, and if we liked their country.  Basic stuff, but with genuine interest for us all.  I have to say that the Guatemalan people are genuinely the warmest, friendliest people we've ever met.  We felt like they really wanted us to love their country.  It surely wasn't hard to fall in love with such open-hearted people. 

Last Supper in San Marcos

Brad and Stuart, our last night in San Marcos. When we walked up the steps, Brad called us by name, as he did every other person who walked in. He's a good business man, but laid back at the same time. He's a corporate lawyer from LA, tired of the rat race, who landed here. He farms coffee, sheep, chickens and veggies in season, and has cultivated a fine group of food people. A perfect place for him, in this stopping point for curious people from all over the world. In his place, we've met people from all over the world, some just passing through and staying longer than they intended, and some returning for long periods, some here for the meditation and yoga schools, and one man who is here to farm. An ecclectic mix of people in this village.

We learned a couple of days ago that those cell towers we see at the top of the village are not working. They village leaders allowed them to be built, but decided, later, to not allow them to be turned on. They're afraid the village will change too much. There was one internet place in San Marcos....






I found these two canoes by the lake one afternoon. Typical, wooden boats locals use for fishing...If you look carefully, you'll see the pilings from someone's pier, in the background.









Yet another view of the lake, coming from San Juan. Our village is just beyond the low ridge...that's the high rocks where I found the Mayan ceremonial circle, and where the nice swimming rocks are.















A field of onions. The village in the background, facing west, is San Juan.

Road to San Marcos...

Wilfredo told me this house belongs to a gringo, I think a Canadian. Before the rains, this house, and the house next to it (in the next photo) were both a lllooonnnnggg way from the water's edge.















Now, the water is washing UNDER the house to the right, in this photo. What a wonderful garden! There isn't much flat land around the lake, mostly the mountains come pretty straight up our of the lakebed. This property must have sold for a lot of money. We are looking east, from the extreme west enf of the lake....














As we rounded the lake, the views just more and more beautiful. We passed through another tiny village that's not on the map, where they collect firewood. Most of the villages have a common focus: some grow onions, some weave only the indigo cloth, some weave other specialties.

The road, when it's not washed out, is dirt, except through the small village. There, it's cobblestoned. I'd like to make this walk, taking my time, and will do it when we return to Lake Atitlan...I'm SURE we'll come back here!

San Juan to San Marcos

I love this image! There were two women tending  the coop when we arrived, and they sprang into action when they saw a couple of tourists walk in. This woman explained about the spinning...she spins the cotton and wool without a wheel! She turned the spindle, you can barely see the spindle in her right hand, holding out the roving in the other hand. She had on a beautiful skirt and blouse, and sported a mouth full of gold-capped teeth.  Then, she showed me some dye pots, and some of the materials they use for dying. They grow their own cotton, and buy the wool from local ranchers. They also weave with chenille, which probably comes from China, but I didn't ask. The work was all beautiful, expert workmanship. I wanted to buy one of everything, but resisted! We made one small purchase, for which Wilfredo stayed behind for a minute, when we left, to collect his commission.

He took us to the herbalist after the weaver's coop. A young Mayan woman gave me a tour of the winter garden, and I recognized lots of plants. She told me about the uses of the plants, what they were good for, and we laughed at the names in spanish and english. They keep a large garden in the spring, summer and fall, but now it's too dry.











Stuart and Karen in the herb garden. Stuart and Wilfredo stood in the shade while I wandered with my guide, Eneida.















Wilfredo, our tuk tuk driver and guide, and Stuart. We both liked this little village. If we were going to stay at the lake longer, we'd surely spend some time in the mountains around this part of the lake.

After lunch, Wilfredo drove us along the lake shore road back to San Marcos, about three miles. The road was washed out in some places, after last August's heavy rains. He stopped when I asked, to allow me to take photos. We'd heard that walking this road was not safe, danger of banditos, but we saw enough foot traffic, even a couple of trucks hauling rocks and firewood, that we would make the walk without fear.

Pictures of the trip in the next post...

San Juan la Laguna

One day, we thought we'd see the village just west of San Marcos. Our hostess, Lily, suggested that we take the lancha to San Juan, and either walk the three miles, or catch a tuk tuk back. The lake is whipped up a little today, the wind is pretty brisk, and the lancha will not go into the lagoon for San Juan's pier. So, we get off the boat in San Pedro, and hire a tuk tuc to take us to San Juan.



This is the view down the hill to the pier in San Pedro. See the sign in English?  There are a few businesses right at the pier that cater to English speaking tourists, as usual!  The city pier is under water, and everyone hops out on a small boardwalk a little west, and climbs over a low wall around the back of a restaurant to get to the steps up to  the street.












If you tilt your head to the left, and look at the mountain across the lake, you'll notice Indian Nose Mountain. I hear the sunrise walks to the top are spectacular, but they leave at 3am. Next trip, maybe....

The tuk tuk driver had to pay a 10 Q fee to enter the tiny village of San Juan, about a mile over the next ridge, which he told me he has to pay once a day, if he goes over there. Anyway for the village to make money, I guess.

The village is known for several things: it's very clean (it was!); very quiet (it was); nice murals scattered through the village (check); and two artists cooperatives. We walked for a while, enjoying the murals, and then hired a tuk tuk driver, Wilfredo, to take us to the cooperatives. He spoke no English, but he and I chatted the entire afternoon, and he was a great 'tour guide'.  He spoke very clearly, and helped me with corrections and vocabulary. 








We would have never found this weavers cooperative, it was down a side street, with no sign, and then down an alley, behind a house!
I just deleted the pic, and will have to post it separately...my technical skills are lacking.

Dinners and more in San Marcos

Beside the Bosque Encantado hotel, I found a little place upstairs that had cold beers. When I went up one afternoon to get a couple para llevar, to go, I met Brad, the owner. A gregarious man, from LA. He told me the story of Ganesh, a Cooperative. He rents the building, and has a restaurant/bar upstairs. Each night, he rents the kitchen to local cooks, and he runs the bar. He's dark Monday, but Tues and Wed nights feature different local women cooks. Sunday night is barbeque night. I asked him if barbeque is a verb or a noun, and for that question he gave me a beer! I took my beers back to the hotel, and later Stuart and I went back for dinner. Dirk, a Swede, was cooking, and we had a perfectly awesome dinner, with the best sauces I've tasted! We met a man from Maine, who is farming coffee and chocolate, who shared some chocolates with us, filled with coffee of course. By the time we left Ganesh, we felt like family, and knew we'd be back.

Brad poured a beer drink for me, with hot sauce and lemon juice. I'm hooked.










Does this look pretty?!? The drink is the beer drink Bard made, and the little shooter is mescal, with a lime slice dusted with ground coffee. Sounds like a strange combination, but very tasty.


















Ganesh, guarding the entrance to the restaurant of the same name in San Marcos.






















This is Pablito, from London. A dancer/physical therapist we met one day in San Pedro. After a few days, we decided to see some of the other villages on the lake, and hopped on the lancha. San Pedro is the second most popular village on the lake, and close to San Marcos. We walked to the top of the hill, didn't see anything that appealed to us. It's a 'normal' town, with paved streets and cars and trucks, stores and a mercado. We walked back down to the lake, found a place for lunch, and enjoyed a chicken curry. Chicken, pineapple, carrots, potatoes and curry powder. Pretty tasty! After lunch, as we walked back to the pier, I watched Pablito decline a shoe shine from a flock of small local children. And, he was wearing some very shinable shoes: big and leather. I commented about his will power (the kids are so pitiful), and we had a long conversation about our paths in life and how we can choose. We agreed that guilt is a product pedaled by people who want something from us, and that guilt is self-imposed. He had no guilt over the kids, and said he could shine his own shoes pretty well. Pablito is on a dedicated spiritual quest, which has him in San Marcos for a few months, and he joins us later on the lancha ride back to our quiet village. I took this picture a few nights later, when we ran into him at dinner at the restuarant owned by a Brit. I've loved the travelers we've met, and all their tales.

change of address

One morning, we went to Hotel Acculax for breakfast. LP says Acculas serves a delicious and beautiful breakfast, they did not lie. The patio where breakfast is served is yet another "this must be a Disney stage set" beauty. The bowls  were filled with delicious fruit and flowers from the garden, the coffee was grown and roasted on the property, and the view of the lake from up here was unmatchable. We decided to spread our money around, and moved from the beautiful jungle room at Bosque Encantado to a sun-filled room at Acculax. Acculax is the Mayan word for the owner's name, Nicholas. The German man is married to a New York woman, and their three year old son is growing up with four languages; German, English, Mayan and Spanish. The rate is a little higher, 330 Q, but we'll splurge. Our room is called La Cascada, the waterfall, becuase we climb a lot of steps carved into the mountain side, then then down some steps to get to our room and private little balcony.





Our room is the one up top...lots of steps, but by the second time up, it was nothing. Here, we're overlooking the lake, and there is a shady flower garden with hammocks waiting for us. There are about 10 rooms here, I think, and we have one of the best views.

The hotel is built right into the living rock, and our room is actually called La Cascada becuase it weeps in the rainy season, not because of the steps! We noticed that the floor is sloped, and there is a drain hole in the low corner. There are some decorative cement snakes on the rock, diverting the water when it rains to the drainage channel at floor level. Our bathroom is across the little balcony, and is all rock. The shower is huge, with an unlimited supply of hot water. The window in the bath is the work of our hostess, Lily, who is a stained glass artist. The windows in our bedroom are floor to ceiling, facing the lake.













The view of the lake from our private balcony.





















The sign on the path, directing us to our hotel. This is as close to a billboard as anything on the lake!

We spend a few days in San Marcos, walking and swimming, eating and dozing in a hammock. San Marcos is known for it's meditation centers and yoga schools. I took a class one afternoon with an Australian man in Anasura yoga, with just one other young woman in the class. Stuart and I both can easily let time slip away from us here, as so many other people have. We've met people who came here for a few days, and a couple of years later are still here. Carlos, who owns Blind Lemon's restaurant, is a blues guitarist. His wife (whom we did not meet) was a Peace Corp worker, and was thrown out of Guatemala at the beginning of their civil war. She was 'not finished' with Guatemala, and they eventually returned, and now live here. Carlos played and sang for Stuart and me one night, when we had dinner in his restaurant.

Susan, a 50-something woman I met one afternoon on the rocks, sold every thing she owned in CT, bought a sail boat with a friend, and after a year of sailing sold the boat and moved to San Marcos. She's going to eventually settle in Asheville, NC, where she hopes to do a little farming. We met so many travelers with the most wonderful tales...James, who had just submitted his final paper for college, and was approved for graduation. He told me he considered himself a graduate as of about 2 hours ago, and was on his way to San Pedro for the beginning for a walk-about in Guatemala as celebration.  We promised to have a beer in his honor later that day....This place will grab you, and if you're lucky, you will find yourself living here for a long time.