June 15, 2012

Killer Tomatoes

With temperatures nearing the unbearable range we decided to cap off our springtime sailing adventure with a bus trip to inland Guatemala. Mountains, lakes, cool evenings...  they all sounded great compared to the heat and humidity of the Rio Dulce river. We started the trip with a long, air conditioned bus ride to Guatemala City arriving late in the evening. As I have noted Guatemala appears to be a little more dangerous than some of the other countries we have visited on this trip.  An embassy travel advisory noted that Guatemala has one of the highest violent crime rates in Latin America and that “rule of law is lacking”. Nowhere in the country is night time travel advised and if you should arrive at a bus station after dark make sure the cab you get is radio dispatched and in good condition, don’t hail cabs, and avoid the numerous red buses that transit the city and are referred to as “Killer Tomatoes” (probably for the quantities of exhaust they emit as much as any other dangers). Andrea told me all of this shortly after I had hailed a parked cab that we then had to push down the street to jump start.  But our hotel was clean and modern and, excepting the two guards with shotguns stationed at the door it might have been anywhere in the U.S.

The following morning we took the opportunity to walk cautiously around Guatemala City (at least the small area of the city near the clean, modern hotels) before we made our second travel faux-pas.  We decided to take the “chicken bus” for the three hour trip from Guatemala City to the market town of Chichicastanengo where Andrea was eager to see the largest vendor’s market in all of Latin America. We have ridden the chicken buses in several countries usually with good results and interesting stories, but this bus trip was an adventure to itself. We were packed in three to a seat on both sides of the ancient, colorful school bus. In the aisle riders sat on paint buckets, and then they loaded the standees. There must have been 100 people on the small bus at one time. Baggage went on top of the bus, and whenever anyone boarded along the way the bus assistant would grab their packs, climb to the top of the bus and then (because the bus never actually stopped moving) re-enter the bus via a window. Our driver was absolutely crazy.  He never slowed down, passing everyone on the highway in ditches, on curves, in stalled traffic, even causing two oncoming vehicles to dive off the road to avoid the head on collision. We decided that Curvas Peligrosas did not actually mean Dangerous Curves but could more literally be translated as this is a good time to pass while everyone else is using their brakes. We had visions of a newspaper headline “American tourists among dead in chicken bus tragedy”. So what was the faux pas you ask? Another part of the embassy advisory said, and I quote, “Avoid low-priced intra- and inter-city public buses (recycled U.S. school buses). They are often attacked by armed robbers and are poorly maintained and dangerously driven.” You don’t say.

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Chichicastanengo was worth the trip however.  The town is the center of commerce for the very heavily Mayan population in this rural area. Everywhere women in the traditional, colorful Mayan outfits offered goods for sale. Many of them carried their embroidered cloth, blouses, scarves, and other hand made items on the top of their heads. The biggest market is on Sundays and on Saturday night we watched as they set up market stalls in all of the streets surrounding the central church. Small  holes are permanently set in the cobblestone streets to hold the wooden supports for the tarps and roofs that will provide protection from both sun and rain, and small men and boys carried huge loads of goods and produce into the streets on their backs. A torrential downpour that cascaded water onto the table of our restaurant that evening delayed the setup only briefly. Sunday morning the town was bursting at the seams with crowds of buyers and sellers. Everything you would need for daily living seemed available. There were food vendors, farm produce, livestock, meats, pots, lots of hand made textiles and art work and, of course, a great amount of mass produced goods like T-shirts, bags and backpacks, shoes, clothing, etc.  Wall to wall people, wall to wall booths, wall to wall bargains, however we have no pictures of this colorful market because SOMEONE forgot to recharge the camera batteries.

The Catholic church in Chichi is located in the center of all of the activity on Sunday mornings.  It seems that the Mayans and the Pope have reached an understanding regarding their religions, and the Catholic church in Guatemala incorporates many Mayan beliefs and traditions. We saw large quantities of flowers and incense being burned on the steps of the church as offerings, a distinctly non-Catholic tradition.  This compromise arose when the Spanish priests arrived to teach the Mayans their new religion.  Unfortunately the Mayans could not speak Spanish and the priests could not speak Mayan so neither really understood what the other believed and a compromise of “you do your thing, I’ll do mine” was reached.  But the church did provide the basis for one very distinct cultural icon, the Mayan tradition of colorful weaving. The church was the source of a very strict dress code under which the inhabitants of any given village were required to weave and wear a style of clothing unique to that village. Mayans still wear clothing particular to their village, but few visitors to Guatemala realize that the bright, distinctly ethnic clothing one sees everywhere evolved out of an edict from a most non-Mayan source: the Roman Catholic Church. After an interesting conversation with two young Mayan women we found we were able to identify the colors particular to the nearby town of San Antonio La Lago. We got smiles all around when later we would meet someone from San Antonio and correctly identify their village.

After Chichicastengo we took a van (no more chicken buses for us) to Panajachel on Lake Atitlan for our final 3 days in Guatemala before heading home. Panajachel is a lakeside tourist town (although not many American tourists apparently) that provides access via boat to several other Mayan villages on the lake. We took advantage of our stay here to visit several villages, walk the cobbled streets, shop, and generally relax.
We noted that much of the population of Guatemala and many of the workers seem to be a very young. We took a canoe trip where we were guided by a thirteen year old boy and we had a long conversation with a very mature thirteen year old Mayan woman selling goods in San Juan La Lago. We met another thirteen year old accompanied by her five year old brother selling in Panajachel. It seems that this is the appropriate age in Guatemala to begin contributing to the support of your family, and there are children working everywhere.

Our springtime trip for 2012 ended with one more night in Guatemala City and a memorably romantic dinner. The restaurant (Kacao) served Guatemalan traditional dishes and was housed in a beautiful palapa constructed in the middle of the city. Kacao had been recommended to us while we were still in the Rio and it was a great recommendation. Costumed waiters, delicious food and a beautiful setting combined to make this one of the best dining experiences we had ever had in any country.  

Our two month trip covered over 1200 miles of sailing, and we were in and out of four different countries (Panama, Colombia, Honduras and Guatemala). We got to figure out our expenses in four different currencies (dollars, pesos, lempira and quetzales), and we saw so many different places and lifestyles. We love it. It is sometimes difficult to leave friends and family for such an extended period of time, we sometimes worry about our safety, we’re sometimes confused trying to cope with day to day happenings in a foreign language, and sometimes we even get on each others nerves in our small floating home, but the adventures, beaches, bars, boats, islands, jungles, people and leisurely pace make it all worthwhile (at least for a little while).  With that said we are definitely looking forward to CA for the summer.

Tom and Andrea

June 7, 2012

Against the Wind

The decision was made to run for the Rio about two weeks earlier than planned. We do not have an SSB radio for weather reports so we are dependent on other boats to get us the latest information. Best guess was that a short weather window would allow us to reach the Rio Dulce River before some very strong winds settled into the area for a long stretch. Bad weather for us is not rain, but wind. Wind on the nose is not good even in sunny, blue skies, and when our buddies on Silver Sea and Salida said “go” that was good enough for us. The Rio, or rather 26 miles up the Rio, will be the boat’s summer home for the 2012 hurricane season. We left Roatan, Honduras at 8 AM for a 24 hour trip to Livingston in Guatemala. The trip was marred by the aforementioned winds that came up early the following morning PLUS the fact that Salida was struck by lightning just two miles ahead of us on the crossing. Minor electrical damage and some frayed nerves was all that was reported, but it gave us pause for thought.

Livingston is the port of entry on the Carribbean coast of Guatemala and after a quick check-in in a driving rain storm we motored into the river. The lower river winds through steep canyons with thick jungles on each side. This canyon was the scene of numerous Tarzan movies and it is a truly awesome sight. Texan Bay was our first stop in the river allowing us to anchor just before dark. Because the crossing to Livingston was a little rougher than expected we spent several days relaxing here before motoring on. Again our buddy boat Salida had all of the excitement. On our second night in Texan Bay they were boarded by two young men with evil intent. Fortunately these “pirates” fled as soon as they were confronted. Salida put out a call to us since we were anchored only a few hundred feet away, but the intruders were gone before we could respond. Guatemala has a bad history for crime and violence, and this may be the first place on our entire trip where we have felt a little uncomfortable. We will not be anchoring on our own in this river.

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The town of Fronteras aka Rio Dulce proved to have at least one danger on a par with the pirates. This one road town lies at the foot of the lone bridge that crosses this extensive river system. I can’t call it a one cow town however because the road is a shipping lane for dozens of cow transport trucks each day that move bovines from field to field and field to slaughter. The real danger in Fronteras is the cows! Packed tightly on the trucks, one facing left the next facing right, with tails against the rail side boards on both sides, the cows regularly “shoot the shit”. The street is a walking disaster. The danger here is being too close to the passing cow trucks when the shit hits the fan… so to speak. I’d rather the pirates. 

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The river is thick with small marinas for the cruising boats, attractive vacation homes and motor yacht for the wealthier Guatemalans, and waterfront restaurants for all. River life is a stark contrast between the small canoes that fish the river daily and the expensive boats that we call home. You can see women washing clothes on a rock in the river just around the corner from your favorite tiki bar. A remarkable contrast.

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We moved the boat into Mario’s Marina on June 1 and spent the next several days enjoying happy hours, good food and a cool pool ashore while we cleaned and repaired Mañana after a long sail. We have found waterfalls for swimming and smaller rivers to explore by dinghy and always another cold beer to help us pass the time. Mario’s provides an armed guard on the dock all night long. Paradise?

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Unfortunately the weather is extremely uncomfortable right now with temperatures in the 90s and a heat index of over 110 each day so the pool is a godsend, but it will take a change of venue to really cool things off. Our next adventure will be a week long road trip into the Guatemalan interior before we head home.