KATE-zaltenango: Lago de Atitlan Excursion

I have spent the greater part of the last two days writing an essay for my Liberation Theology class, so sorry about the uncreative post title.

We had our last group trip this weekend. In some strange way, it was sad knowing that it was the last time we would all pile into a microbus and take turns sitting in the awkward fold-down middle seats with meager padding. We went to Lago de Atitlan and visited four towns around the lake: Panajachel, Santiago, San Lucas Toliman, and San Marcos.

We were only in Santiago for about an hour, which was okay, because there isn’t much to do there. There is a Mayan-Catholic church, and shrine to San Simon. There are a handful of dollish renditions of San Simon throughout Guatemala (one here) and people come from all over to pour rum down his mouth, stick lit cigarettes between his plaster lips and pray for miracles. The Mayans invented San Simon to appease the Spanish conquistadors who were “more civilized” because they prayed to saints. The tradition lived on and this half-saint is prayed to by several Guatemalans today, not only Mayans.

So on with the story... after being followed around the market and pestered for a good while, Laura and I finally hired 9-year-old Andres as our “tour guide” for the short time we were there. He was a pretty good salesman. His sales pitch began by telling us we were going to visit San Simon. When we told him we didn’t want to and started walking in the other direction, he would hop in front of us and say, “Ok, we’ll go this way.” When we tried to ignore him, he held up beaded bracelets and said he would leave if we bought some. He was adorable and was making us laugh and Laura and I really didn’t know where we were going, so we eventually worked out a deal.

Between the two of us we only had Q17, so we said we would pay him Q15 for two bracelets, a tour of San Simon and the Church, and a photo with him (I know, the picture is a little exploitative). During the walk to San Simon, we also worked in that he would have to fight of the drunken men who were trying to kiss us as we passed. He proved to be best at the fighting off the men part. When we got to the church, the only thing he could tell us was the year it was built, which we also found out by looking at the cornerstone with the same date. But look how cute he is:

His company was totally worth money.

It turns out we weren’t the only one cutting odd deals with vendors. In San Marcos, Jordan traded a knapsack, two folders, three t-shirts (one of which was Anna's), his watch, a half-bottle of Pepto Bismol, a half-bottle of Ibuprofen, some sunscreen, some Lysol, a flashlight, a notebook, a packet of pencils and Q150 for a blanket. Unfortunately, I was not present to witness this historical and hysterical barter, but I was present the next day when we were eating lunch at the hotel and the man walked by wearing a Johnnies t-shirt and carrying his blankets on his back. Jordan asked me to get a picture of the two of them shaking hands, which as you can see ended up being them holding hands. The guy asked me if I wanted a blanket but I didn’t have any clothes to trade.

Jordan and "Johnny."

The hotel we stayed at in San Marcos was really nice, with little bungalows situated in a gardeny setting and free kayak use.

The bungalow that Breanna, Nicole, Laura and I shared.

I, along with my roommates from last semester who are also studying abroad here, nabbed the three available kayaks (two singles, one double) to paddle out and watch the sunrise on the last day of our vacation. It was by far my favorite morning since being here, and maybe even my favorite morning ever.

I can’t remember the last time the four of us hung out alone, which is a good thing I guess because there are a lot of other great people on the trip. Nonetheless, it was a great opportunity to catch up and spend some quality time on the lake together. After the sunrise, we made our way to some cliffs that Shannon had scoped out earlier for some prospective cliff jumping.

You may remember that I opted out of the bridge jumping when we visited Semuc Champey, something that I regretted after the fact. There was no way I was not doing it this time. I was a little more at ease in the company of three of my best friends rather than a whole group of 20 others.

Shannon and Ellory scoping out the site.

Ellory was our guinea pig. First she jumped from a low height... todo bien.

Then Shannon jumped from a medium height. Meanwhile, Laura and I are trying to manage the three kayaks and the cast-off clothes, and trying to figure out camera settings. Thus, we were not able to document Shannon’s jump. Then Ellory and Shannon climbed up to the tallest point, probably about 20 feet.

This picture is of Ellory and Shannon “standing on a boat like Leo.” Ellory was clearly the only one of us who planned on going swimming, as the rest of us went in our bottom-most layer of clothes.

With good reason, they were scared, but they were somewhat comforted when a native fisherman paddled by in his rowboat and assured us it was muy seguro--very safe. The fact that he said a specific depth (about 30 meters) made us more comfortable.