Our shuttle to Panajachel picked us up at our hostel right after breakfast. The driver tossed our packs onto the roof (yikes) and we spent the next three hours driving up and down and across mountains to get to Lake Atitlan. Along the way we passed hundreds of dried up corn fields (Maya proudly call themselves “People of the Corn”) and hundreds of little Mayan children on the side of the road hanging out and waving at our van. We're not sure why they were there in the first place. Some whole families were sitting there, on patches of grass on the edge of a cliff next to the highway, women all bundled up in their colorful huipas and skirts, often times holding babies, children teeny and ruddy cheeked and standing apart from the adults. In some cases, small children were walking beside the road by themselves. We wondered if maybe it was because it was Christmas eve and no one had school? In any case, we must have passed a group of waving kids every thirty seconds and each time we attempted to take a picture through the window. Jody did not get a single shot of the children but did get several splendid shots of blurry foliage. (She wants you to know that she DID get a picture of our shuttle driver peeing when he stopped in the middle of a hill and disembarked without announcement.)
In Solola, we passed by a crazy regional market going on – even more women in embroidered shawls/blouses/skirts-- and lots of traffic. We finally got to Panajachel as the sun was overhead and yay! Warmth! But we needed to find a bank with an ATM, so we had to walk up and down the main drag first. Two banks wouldn't let us in but luckily we found an ATM with policemen stationed right outside. Then boat taxi (“barco publica”) all the way to San Marcos, which took almost an hour because our boat was so overloaded and dipped deep into the water so we had to go slow.
El sol, el sol, el sol! All I wanted to do was lay in the sun. Here are the things we did instead of that:
- walked around with our luggage following a young boy who said he knew where our hotel was but really he took up in a giant circle ten meters from where we started and then complained when we paid him only 2 quetzales
- dumped our stuff out and repacked our daypacks
- ate lunch and played cards
- changed into shorts and hat
- checked out the local tour guide to see about hikes for the following day
- walked down to the dock where there was no where to sit
- walked back and forth along the shoreline looking for a place to sit near the water
- walked back to our hotel room to double check something or other
- walked back to the dock and took some pictures sitting on the dock of the lake (yes) but two boys were pestering us
- checked out another local tour guide who wasn't there and his helper only spoke Spanish and I sulked the whole way because it was taking up precious sunning time
- took some pictures of bougainvillea which comes in magenta, orange, and yellow
- made fun of the hippie yoga crowd here who all wear ugly baggy pants and pretend to love each other and are incredibly unfriendly towards everyone else, like don't even smile hello
FINALLY we returned to our hotel again and found a tiny patch of grass right next to our room which offered just enough sunshine for me to lay down my sarong and sunbathe. Ten minutes later, the sun set behind the volcano.
-EVENING-
So then I came inside and was sad because I missed the whole day of sun. Jody convinced me to walk into “town” where there was still some sun. This is when we discovered the church – Jody says, “What's 'Benny's videos'?” referring to the Bienvenidos sign above the entrance which was missing an “e.”
We sat down and watched the hall fill up with Mayan men, women, and children. They were all very quiet. The service was a Catholic mass as far as we could figure out, since it was conducted in two languages that we don't speak – Spanish and Mayan Kaqchiquel. Several American Christmas songs were sung in Spanish which I knew because of ACC, like “The First Noel” and “Angels We Have Heard on High.” They did the incense walk down the aisle, several mini sermons, some kneeling, and communion. There were no prayer books. The women and girls all wore the same colorful striped head shawl and I was dying to take pictures the whole time but restrained myself due to church etiquette. Except for one.
After that, we wandered back and forth between our hotel thatched hut and the junk food market (I found Intenso cookies!!!!!!!) and the dock and then we followed some hippie yoga snobs to see where they hung out, then back to our place to watch Home Alone in Spanish and use the internet that wasn't working. I ate a pizza and now we're calling it a night. Hopefully, tomorrow will be sunny again because I have more horizontal aspirations.
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