More Local Hospitality & Laguna Chicabal

This week I went out on a limb and called up my friend from the chicken bus. The first attempt was a disaster, as I was hung up on. Dejected, I left the payphone at the corner and went home. An hour later, I decided to give it one more try, and after a very confusing first 30 seconds, Luis figured out who was on the phone. We managed to make plans for dinner, and it was decided we would meet Friday at 6pm at a local tavern.

I showed up on Friday and met Luis, who explained that he wanted to go back to his place to change, and that we would meet his wife shortly thereafter. I obligingly jumped into his pickup, and we raced off towards the outer limits of Xela, to a small pueblo where he lives. During a break in our conversation, I started to think about the fact I was in the car of someone who I had met only a week ago, and only for an hour, trustingly believing that we were in fact heading to his house and not to a dark alley where he would take all of my posessions. Potential horror stories came to mind, but in the moment, I figured that my luck had served me well so far in Guatemala, and that it would not let me down this time either. Sure enough, I ended up at Luis' house, sitting on a hillside just outside Xela, with a stunning view of the city night lights that could (almost) put Montreal to shame. Shortly after, we stopped by his work where he had to pick up some papers, and finally made it to the bar for a beer, before meeting his wife for dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant nearby. By the end of the night, I had been invited to travel to Antigua with them this coming weekend. Once again, local hospitality trumps guidebook warnings. Needless to say, I plan on visiting Antigua this weekend.

Saturday morning came bright and early, as I headed out with a school-organized tour to see Laguna Chicabal, a crater lake considered sacred hereby the local people. A 30-minute ride outside the city brought us to the base of the unactive volcano, where we hiked up a steep and slippery road to the




Another hour or so of hiking brought us to the top of the volcano, with a stunning view of the crater and, on the opposite side, of Santa Maria and the still-active Santiaguito.



Next, we had to actually make our way down into the crater itself, which involved a set of 600 stairs running through the jungle-like foliage. Interestingly enough, our guide explained that the volcano is one of the first mountains to be hit by the warm air flowing inland from the Pacific Ocean, and because it mixes with the cold mountain air, a rainforest-like climate is created but without the humidity and heat normally associated to it.


Once we got down to the lake itself, we started the tour around it, and stopped at various Mayan prayer sites clearly indicated by really cool signs (more to warn ignorant tourists not to mess things up than to indicate to the locals where they should be praying). Because the lake is considered sacred, people are not allowed to swim in it or used the water to ash their clothes, but nonetheless you could still see junk around the shores, once again more likely from tourists than locals.


Although pretty much everything is off-limits at this place when it comes to using the water, we came across a fishing boat and net that not even our guide could explain. It hardly made sense that people were allowed to fish here considering its significance to the locals. However, we found the guys who seemed to be running the show, and they explained that they are granted access to the lake for one or two days every month (or every few months - this was not clear) where they could catch carp. The lake is really clean because of the fact nobody can use it, and its basically just a crater full of natural rainwater filtered by the ecosystem, so the fish aren't full of wonderful things like mercury either. Finally, the fish are smoked and then sold in the markets, but the money goes into the surrounding mountain cooperative of locals, so it benefits them to take advantage of their natural resources, but it a responsible manner. Responsible use of natural resources, what a novel concept...



When we got to the case of the lake it was a crystal clear day, but by the time we were ready to leave, the mist slowly started pouring into the crater, almost like the smoke from dry-ice boiling over a pot. It was actually really neat to see, and within minutes fog was streaming across the lake to the point where you couldn't see across the water. All in all it made for a truly eerie experience, multiplied by the rugged crosses and charred piles of burnt sacrifices strewn throughout the path.



We made our way back down in good time, and jumped in the vans as the mist engulfed the volcano and poor souls who were just beginning their ascent. Not ten minutes later, the heavens opened up, and the rain came down. I would not have wanted to be the group who had just started the trek.

Saturday evening I went out for dinner with my host mother, to a restaurant overlooking all of Xela and owned by a Swiss guy. The view was stunning, and the menu included, get this Dad, racelette. Later that evening we watched a B-grade Hollywood horror called The Wailer, based on a Guatemalan (and Mexican) legend about a crazy woman who drowns her kids in the river because she thinks her husband doesn't want them anymore, kills herself when he freaks out, and now walks the river every night crying for her children (hence "La Llorona"). The river the legend is based on is two blocks away from my house. True story.

3.2 stars out of 10 on IMBD - Pat, I think you can safely skip this one

Vanessa came to Xela on Sunday to see what the town had to offer, and more importantly, pick up her French-Spanish grammar books that I brought along with me. Apparently learning Spanish has ruined my French, and I was made fun of for most of the day because our conversations in French were strewn full of Spanish words, and I'm pretty sure I forgot what common words like "mais" and "avec" were. Perfect. Needless to say, Vanessa managed only a few words of English when she met Noah at our house. Figures. Sorry Vaness, I still think my shoddy French is better than your English, even after studying Spanish for a month.

New travel plans, as my itinerary has changed! Next Tuesday I leave Xela for a 6-day hike through the mountains to Todos Santos. Then back to Xela for one night before leaving again, this time for Livingston (land garifuna and reggae) and then Tikal. Belize is next on the list, and then into Mexico!

Other than that, all is well here in Xela, and tomorrow I think I'll call Luis to see what the deal is for Antigua...