I feel as though I am acclimatizing to Guatemalan culture. Antigua is a very international town with students, travelers, and residence from around the world taking advantage of this beautiful land. All around the town are farms, most notably those harvesting that legal drug called coffee. Not only that, be Antigua is where Starbucks gets most of their coffee beans. Needless to say, the coffee aint too shabby!
On Wednesday, myself and some other gringos hopped on a late night bus taking us from Antigua to Volcan Picaya: one of the active volcanoes in the area. Why climb it in the night? Well, because the lava is brighter--and that was exactly our goal: to see lava. (A note to my parents: you may not want to read the next couple paragraphs---it may worry you.....). And so we rode in van through Guatemala City up into the hills of Picaya. Supposedly it was "safe," but we all knew it could be a little dangerous. A few days later I met a man who was beat up and robbed on the same trail. As we rode through the dusty roads, I looked next to our guide and noticed a long metal shaft lying on the ground next to him. With a grin I whispered to the lady next to me, "...it almost looks like a gun." Sure enough, when we arrived at the trail head our guide pulled out the shiniest shotgun I've ever seen. Apparently he'd been up this trail before....
We climbed for two hours up the side of this mountain slowly watching the sky melt from black to orange as we crept closer and closer to summit. One of the guides picked up some rocks from the ground and handed the to me; they were still roasting hot so I quickly handed them to a friend to hold... We made our way onto the warm lava rocks and soon noticed spots of bright orange buried beneath our feet every here and there. Another fifteen minutes brought us over a hill where we could see the lava. Not only was there some lava, but it was a huge river, about 50 feet wide slowly making its decent from the crater! We walked closer and closer until we stood about 20 feet from this glorious sight. It felt as though we were in a sauna. We watched the "river bank" crumble away every now and again allowing some lava to cascade toward us. I don't know how to explain how marvelous it is to watch huge boulders melt into liquid as they floated by. I've never seen a rock float before! When we first arrived, the lava moved ever so slowly, but by the time we left it was moving pretty good (and by that, I mean perhaps two miles per hour!). Just before we were ready to head back our guides shouted from the distance, "Venga, venga" so we all jumped to our feet to see what they discovered. They found a "safe" path to get within 3 feet of the lava. I was the second person to get there. I climbed the embankment and gazed at the liquid heat roll by so close I could touch it. In fact, it so close that we couldn't look at it for any longer than 10 seconds since the heat was so intense. I admit, I was so carried away by the excitement that I failed to notice that the embankment I had been watching erode was now the very one I was standing next to. I thank the Lord that I made it away safely with an amazing experience, but it was one of the more foolish things I've ever done!
On Wednesday, myself and some other gringos hopped on a late night bus taking us from Antigua to Volcan Picaya: one of the active volcanoes in the area. Why climb it in the night? Well, because the lava is brighter--and that was exactly our goal: to see lava. (A note to my parents: you may not want to read the next couple paragraphs---it may worry you.....). And so we rode in van through Guatemala City up into the hills of Picaya. Supposedly it was "safe," but we all knew it could be a little dangerous. A few days later I met a man who was beat up and robbed on the same trail. As we rode through the dusty roads, I looked next to our guide and noticed a long metal shaft lying on the ground next to him. With a grin I whispered to the lady next to me, "...it almost looks like a gun." Sure enough, when we arrived at the trail head our guide pulled out the shiniest shotgun I've ever seen. Apparently he'd been up this trail before....
We climbed for two hours up the side of this mountain slowly watching the sky melt from black to orange as we crept closer and closer to summit. One of the guides picked up some rocks from the ground and handed the to me; they were still roasting hot so I quickly handed them to a friend to hold... We made our way onto the warm lava rocks and soon noticed spots of bright orange buried beneath our feet every here and there. Another fifteen minutes brought us over a hill where we could see the lava. Not only was there some lava, but it was a huge river, about 50 feet wide slowly making its decent from the crater! We walked closer and closer until we stood about 20 feet from this glorious sight. It felt as though we were in a sauna. We watched the "river bank" crumble away every now and again allowing some lava to cascade toward us. I don't know how to explain how marvelous it is to watch huge boulders melt into liquid as they floated by. I've never seen a rock float before! When we first arrived, the lava moved ever so slowly, but by the time we left it was moving pretty good (and by that, I mean perhaps two miles per hour!). Just before we were ready to head back our guides shouted from the distance, "Venga, venga" so we all jumped to our feet to see what they discovered. They found a "safe" path to get within 3 feet of the lava. I was the second person to get there. I climbed the embankment and gazed at the liquid heat roll by so close I could touch it. In fact, it so close that we couldn't look at it for any longer than 10 seconds since the heat was so intense. I admit, I was so carried away by the excitement that I failed to notice that the embankment I had been watching erode was now the very one I was standing next to. I thank the Lord that I made it away safely with an amazing experience, but it was one of the more foolish things I've ever done!
Classes got old fast! Not to say that I dislike studying or even my classes, but they took up my entire day (8-4). I dropped down to an easier schedule (8-1) which allows me to have more time to study and have fun (and to update my blog a bit). I'm looking forward to classes this week, especially because I have a new professora who I get along with great!
This past weekend I went to a beautiful lake called Lago Atitlan. We took off Friday afternoon right after class and were the only three people in our van! After the 3 hour bus ride to the lake we caught the last boat of the night to take us to our hotel. We squeezed into the boat with about 20 Guatemalans packed in like sardines. About 20 minutes later and way to much intimate contact with absolute strangers we arrived at our hotel: Casa Del Mundo. Although in the states we couldn't rent out the cheapest motel room, for the same money we found ourselves at a luxurious and quaint resort perched on the side of the cliffs and surrounded by deep tropical vegetation. I awoke in one of the most pristine places I've ever been. Would looked off our balcony across the lake to the three massive volcanoes and the 12 villages resting on the lake (named after the 12 disciples). After a morning swim, we headed to four towns. San Marcos: the "religious community" of Atitlan. We expected to see many churches and perhaps a monastery or mission in this village, but instead we found only one small church and a plethora of message therapists. San Pedro: the "hippy community." Within 30 seconds of arriving we were offered weed---that's right, the good old marijuana! I thought about buying some just to say that I had, but the druggies we befriended beat me to it. Santiago: the "idol worshipping community." Virtually this entire town worships a small statue of a little dude smoking a cigarette! Absolutely hilarious and pathetic. From their we made our way to the city: Panajachel. However, en route it started a torrential down-pour. I loved it. Apparently we aren't quite out of rainy season yet so it can dump every day at 1:30. We jumped out of the boat and in the 45 seconds it to us to find a restaurant, we were soaked. We thought it'd let up. We hoped it would. They said it would. But it didn't. Kinda like they said the last boat of the day was at 6. Apparently that wasn't true either. So we had to rent a private boat to take us to our secluded hotel. We made our way across the lake as the rains poured and the lightening lit up the sky. I didn't think it was too safe, but it was the only option. And our captain said it would be fine. I didn't believe him. I prayed God's mercy would guide us there safely, and He did.
This past weekend I went to a beautiful lake called Lago Atitlan. We took off Friday afternoon right after class and were the only three people in our van! After the 3 hour bus ride to the lake we caught the last boat of the night to take us to our hotel. We squeezed into the boat with about 20 Guatemalans packed in like sardines. About 20 minutes later and way to much intimate contact with absolute strangers we arrived at our hotel: Casa Del Mundo. Although in the states we couldn't rent out the cheapest motel room, for the same money we found ourselves at a luxurious and quaint resort perched on the side of the cliffs and surrounded by deep tropical vegetation. I awoke in one of the most pristine places I've ever been. Would looked off our balcony across the lake to the three massive volcanoes and the 12 villages resting on the lake (named after the 12 disciples). After a morning swim, we headed to four towns. San Marcos: the "religious community" of Atitlan. We expected to see many churches and perhaps a monastery or mission in this village, but instead we found only one small church and a plethora of message therapists. San Pedro: the "hippy community." Within 30 seconds of arriving we were offered weed---that's right, the good old marijuana! I thought about buying some just to say that I had, but the druggies we befriended beat me to it. Santiago: the "idol worshipping community." Virtually this entire town worships a small statue of a little dude smoking a cigarette! Absolutely hilarious and pathetic. From their we made our way to the city: Panajachel. However, en route it started a torrential down-pour. I loved it. Apparently we aren't quite out of rainy season yet so it can dump every day at 1:30. We jumped out of the boat and in the 45 seconds it to us to find a restaurant, we were soaked. We thought it'd let up. We hoped it would. They said it would. But it didn't. Kinda like they said the last boat of the day was at 6. Apparently that wasn't true either. So we had to rent a private boat to take us to our secluded hotel. We made our way across the lake as the rains poured and the lightening lit up the sky. I didn't think it was too safe, but it was the only option. And our captain said it would be fine. I didn't believe him. I prayed God's mercy would guide us there safely, and He did.
Now I am sitting in a small Y-WAM coffee shop putting off my studies and waiting for the rain to stop. This upcoming weekend I have three days off so we might head down to the beach or to the Mayan ruins in Tikal or perhaps to El Salvador. Who knows. My stomach is feeling a little funny right now for the first time since being here. Not bad, eh?
The Christian community is a conglomerate of believers from all over the world and all different backgrounds. It is refreshing to see believers in coming together in unity. We want to. We have to. There is no other way. This is a rather dark place with so many evils. And socially, there are so many orphans. I heard someone say that about 75% of the population is children. I don't know if that is exactly accurate, but it does demonstrate the sad situation here.
That's all for now. Ciao!
1 comment:
Hey Paul! I stumbled across your blog via the blog of Ms. Miranda Zapor. It sounds like you are in the midst an excellent adventure. If you find yourself in Quetzaltenango (sp?) some weekend, you may want to contact German and Karla Avila. They are launching an InnerCHANGE team there that will be working with street youth, gangs, and maybe folks in prison. He has been living the past few years in San Francisco doing that kind of work. Anyway, thought it might be of interest to you. German's email address is superavila@yahoo.com. (InnerCHANGE is the missions group I'm with in Minneapolis... where it happens to be snowing today, no joke.)
Peace, Paul!
Shelly
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