Stuart and I had been told to bring water, sunscreen and food. We broke out some fruit we'd bought the day before, raisins and tortillas saved from dinner last night. Adolfo, of course, had brought nothing, and we shared with him. It was more than enough for the three of us, and while we ate, he told us more about the Mayans, the local people, and his family. There are 27 different Mayan dialects spoken in Guatemala (I think I remember that number correctly...). Many older people don't speak Spanish, but the younger people are beginning to speak only Spanish. In Xela, a cultural cross-roads of sorts, a little English is beginning to catch on, too. So many tourists arrive here from Europe, particularly Germany, and South America, many to study Spanish at one of the many schools here.
The owner of the tour company, Altoplanos, is a local man with a surprise. We met William Paxtor yesterday, and he speaks very good English. When he asked de donde, Where are you from, and we said North Carolina, he asked if we lived in Wilmington. Imagine our surprise! He had lived in Pender County for 10 years! It gets better...he was picking blueberries and working on a blueberry farm all those years! I told him my family's farm is very close to a large blueberry farm, and we concluded that we might have passed at some point. He was very proud of his work there, and was pleased with the money he made, much of that money was sent back to help support his family. He saved enough to buy a couple of vans to transport tourists hired some knowledgable young people, and is now not only making a living but providing employment for several people. It was been a very good beginning for the New Year.
We hiked back down the mountain, talking about music, history, other countries, Adolfo's young son, his family and the big test that he must pass when he finishes college in order to be a certified tour guide. By the time we get back to the bottom, we're hot. We arrive at a tiny tienda, a store, and pretty quickly the van arrives to pick us up. We can see now that the fog is burned off. We drive through a tiny village of small concrete houses, fields and donkey's all around. It's the dry season, and we kick up much dust on the dirt streets.
After a hot shower, and we search for late lunch. New Year's Day, and most every restaurant is closed. We finally find a little place, where I order garnachas because I don't know what they are. (my personal rule when it comes to food: I try anything I don't know about, just for curiosity. I usually like it!) Little, fried tortillas not much larger than a cracker, topped with a delicious chicken and crumbled cheese, with pickled veggies on the side. Afterwards, Stuart buys an ice cream cone from the Guate version of Kentucky Fried Chicken (the only other restaurant we find open today), and I order a hot chocolate, with extra chocolate syrup and cream! We sit in the parque, enjoy the sun, and marvel at the First Day of the Year adventure.
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