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Winter 1999 Jan. 8, 1999 |
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| Greetings,
We have arrived in Guatemala, a bit road weary, but otherwise none the worse for the wear. We divided our bus trip down the Pacific Coast of Mexico into four segments: A 24-hour ride got us to our first stop, Mazatlan, where we spent a day to partially recover. Another 24-hour ride got us to another beach resort, Zihuatanejo, where we spent New Year´s Eve and most of the next day. From there an overnight ride of about 14 hours got us to the less-well-known beach hangout of Zipolite. We spent two nights there, then took another overnighter to the Guatemalen border. We had planned on being in Zihuatanejo for New Year's Eve because we thought that of the available options Zihuatanejo would probably be the most entertaining. We got there about 5. p.m., and having just spent 24 hours on the bus we didn't feel too festive. We lay down to rest right after supper, and managed to wake up just before midnight. We wandered out to the beach in time to see some fireworks off in the distance, probably from the ritzy, and totally fabricated, tourist town of Ixtapa. Other that that it was pretty quiet, though once we got back to our hotel room some revelers in a nearby restaurant did their best to keep us awake until about 1 a.m. | ||
On the second of January we approached Zipolite with some trepidation, not knowing what we would find in the wake of Hurricane Paulina, which struck the area early October of '97, followed shortly after by Hurricane Rick. The AAA guidebook describes Zipolite as mainly a "hangout for indolent youth." For years it was little more than a collection of palm-thatched shelters along the rather nice beach where "indolent youth" and others could rent a hammock and a place to hang it for a dollar or two a day. |
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| In recent years a few concrete hotels have shouldered their way onto the front line along the sand, catering to those perhaps a little less youthful. (Unable to entirely hide their heritage, the mattresses in these places often bear some resemblance to hammocks.) Anyway, when we got to Zipolite we were surprised to find things looking more developed than when we were there two years ago, before the storms—more concrete hotels, more thatched shelters, more open-air restaurants. I think a fair amount of aid money flowed into the area after the storms, which was evidently used not only to regain what was destroyed, but to make some advancements as well. Indolence comes naturally along the Mexican coast, and not just to youthful tourists. I suspect Paulina and Rick provided both the means and motivation to carry out some renovation and construction projects that otherwise would probably not have been done. Some clouds do indeed have silver linings. We are now in Panajachel, on the shore of Lake Atitlan. We are spending a couple of nights here, and plan to move out to the little village of San Antonio this weekend. We are looking forward to seeing my godchildren and our other friends there. Speaking of progress, I am typing this in a room full of computers, all hooked up to the Internet. Guatemala has come a long way in the last few years. Please forgive this "one size fits all" newsletter, but since I have to rent computer time it is a lot cheaper to send all the general details to everyone at once. We'll be writing individual replies as we get time. |
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Feb. 1, 1999 |
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We are pretty well settled in our quarters in the village of San Antonio on the shore of Lake Atitlan. We rode out from Panajachel on the 9th of January in the back of one of the several small pickups that serve as the main form of public transportation to and from San Antonio. We were astonished to find the 5-mile road out to the village almost entirely paved. Before, it was a dusty, rutted track, barely passable in parts. We learned later that the road project was part of a nation-wide effort to improve the roads, and many schools, made by the already generally popular government of Alvaro Arzu. Arzu has served two terms and will have to step down in the upcoming elections next year. His successor in his party, the current mayor of the capitol, Guatemala City, as was Arzu before being elected to the presidency, will have a pretty good advantage, I think. One interesting twist in the upcoming elections will be the participation of the URNG party, formerly a coalition of rebel groups which fought Guatemala´s government and military (usually the same thing in the past several decades until Arzu was elected) for more than 30 years. The Arzu government and the URNG signed a peace accord two years ago. The URNG has become a legitimate political party and is claiming credit for whatever gains have been made here since the accord, as, of course, is the Arzu government. It should make for an interesting political campaign. Here in San Antonio, in addition to the new road, there are other signs of prosperity. There are more dogs and cats, most of which seem well fed. Telephones have become relatively common; two years ago there was one. And many more homes have water, if not inside then at least somewhere nearby. Until about a year and a half ago the water supply was limited and most people had to haul water in jugs from a few public spigots. Now there is a plentiful supply, and anyone who can afford the pipes run them to the nearest public spigot and tap in. So a number of pipes may be running from a spigot, each serving one home. (Pretty much the same way electricity is distributed, too. Some electrical poles look more like Maypoles with all the lines radiating out from them.) But with more running water, where there was once dirt and dust, there is mud. The ideas of faucets and drainage don´t seem to go hand-in-hand here. This whole village is a tightly packed cluster of mostly adobe houses (most only one room), built on a hillside with a maze of paths between the buildings. It is pretty easy to tell who has running water because it is usually running out from under their fence in dirty rivulets, into their neighbors yard or down the path. It is hard to go anywhere without getting muddy feet. But we´re not complaining. A few days ago we joined the ranks of those with their own private water supply. We´ve been promised a hot water shower next time we come back, which will be a big improvement over taking baths in the lake. Bathing in the lake isn´t bad since the weather is usually warm and the lake isn´t too cold. And it is traditional to do so here, at least for the men. The women, perhaps out of modesty or because they can heat some water, take bucket baths at home. The main problem we have with bathing in the lake is that, like most things we do around here, we are a spectacle, Faye in particular. We do wear bathing suits of course, but still we draw attention from the men paddling by in their little dugout canoes, from the women washing their cloths on rocks near us and from the children who accompany them. Often children will perch on nearby rocks to watch as we do our best to get clean while wearing bathing suits. They try to get us to give them our soap, our towels, our clothes or whatever else we have brought with us. I takes a little getting used to. The thought of our own private hot-water shower is attractive. We already felt pretty pampered because we were loaned a gas cooktop. Last time we were here, two years ago, we cooked over an open fire. So did most of our neighbors (and still do. It´s like living in the middle of a barbeque fest, twice a day!) I wasn´t entirely unacquainted with campfire cooking, but a gas cooktop is a lot easier. If we get a hot water shower we´ll feel like we have all the comforts of home. I´ll have to see what I can do about a phone line and an Internet connection. We are renting our quarters from Petrona, an auntof my godchildren on their mother´s side. Their mother, Carmen, has seven sisters and a brother. The entire family is very good to us and it is a real treat to know them. Of Carmen´s sisters we are closest to Petrona and Alva. Petrona is probably in her 30s and is unmarried. We joke that she probably intimidates any man who might wish to court her. There seems to be nothing she can´t do, and she is anything but meek. We really enjoy her spirit, but it might be a bit much for the kind of men they raise around here. Eighteen-year-old Alva, against all odds, is beginning her second year of university. She has gotten that far through her own hard work and determination, and by the dedication and support of her family (and, this year, with some generous help from a couple of good friends of mine.) Alva is studying law. When she graduates from university she will be the first person in the village to do so. My godchildren and their older brother, 12-year-old Rolando, started back to school about two weeks ago. A few days before that Faye and I took them shopping for supplies and shoes. The six-grade school here in the village is free but the children have to buy their own supplies, which come to about $20. The average wage here is about $3 a day, so it is a substantial amount for most families. We bought the supplies in a store that specialized in such things, in the nearby town of Solola. Each child had a list of what they needed and the clerk would make a pile on the counter. We paid for the supplies, then went to the market to find shoes. That was an entirely different experience! In the market the vendors try to charge as much as they can get away with, and smart buyers try to buy things as cheaply as possible. It is a real art. The first stall we went to Rolando picked out a pair of tennis shoes. He looked at me with a question on his face. I asked the vendor how much they cost. He told me; Rolando asked me if that was OK. I said, "I don´t know, what do you think?" He kind of smiled, his face lit up and he turned back to the vendor and launched into bargaining mode. Then we had some fun. At that first place Rolando couldn´t get his price so he put the shoes down and said "Let´s go somewhere else." We ended up going to half a dozen different places to get all four children shoes. Each time Faye and I would sit back out of the line of fire as Rolando, aided by the younger children, would make the best bargain they could. When they were satisfied we would pay for the shoes and go to the next place. I think we all enjoyed the shopping trip, though I´m not sure the vendors did. There is more to tell, but this is getting pretty long. I´ll save it for next time.................. |
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Feb. 20, 1999
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