Community Tourism in San Juan

29th - 31st Dec


View from our homestay door

I am sitting looking over coffee plants and chickens eating a salted taron grapefruit while the slap, slap of fresh tortillas being made comes from the kitchen where Doña Soledad is making my lunch. It is 11am New Year’s Eve and we are coming to the end of a visit to the tourism co-operative of San Juan, a village south of Gracias. We are staying in Doña Soledad’s house, a hearty and jovial 84 year-old who welcomed us in with a hug and a kiss. She spends most of her day in the kitchen, beside the wood burning hot plate. Her husband goes out to milk their cows, her adopted son Leonardo to work their land full of coffee plants, bananas, beans, maize and other fruits and vegetables. Meals have been mostly of food from her own land, much of it organic, including freshly squeezed milk, cheese, curd cheese, beans, bananas, free range yard eggs, coffee and maize tortillas.


Georgia picking coffee

We made tortillas with her the first night. I would say ‘helped’ except for the mis-shapen attempts we produced. On the last day she demonstrated how she roasts coffee beans on her hot plate and we helped turn the beans so that they did not burn. As they roast, the smell comes increasingly of coffee, except in our case and because of our 'help' it was dominated by a heady aroma of charcoal.


Roasting the coffee beans


That's fresh coffee!

Soledad’s daughter Gladys runs a stationers cum button shop cum café which quadruples as the visitor centre for the co-operative. This was where we arrived to and were shown a well-produced information folder that explains the aims of the co-operative, how it benefits its members and the activities provided through it.


Leonardo, Soledad's son, and Georgia pick coffee

Over the last couple of days we have got to know them all, especially Doña Soledad, and so got much closer to Hondurans than before. The co-operative is only four years old and was founded due to the plummeting coffee prices on the international market. With declining incomes a group of villagers and a Peace Corps worker identified the sorts of activities and infrastructure needed to increase small-scale community tourism. The current twenty members of the co-operative earn much needed income but also the visitor learns much more about contemporary and traditional Honduran life than if simply passing through and staying at a hotel. We have certainly got to know the people and lifestyles very well.


Danilo our guide and Campesinos

We had a full-day 24km hike into the mountains yesterday to visit the Waterfalls of the Elves. While not seeing any elves we did spend a great day with Danilo, a small farmer who as a guide earns 50% over the average daily wage for a coffee worker. Not only did we learn about the plants and history of the area, we were introduced to other members of the community and felt like we were being right in a real part of Honduras.


A waterfall, no elves in sight!

More photos are on our flickr photostream, link above left.

Thank You Gracias

26th-29th Dec


Gracias


Gracias Church

Gracias is a small mountain town in the western Highlands of Guatemala, an area occupied by the indigenous Lenca people. The bus journey from the coast rose through ever-more stunning countryside flanked by high mountains. We met a British-Irish couple who now live in San Francisco on the bus and shared stimulating conversations to pass the four hour journey. On arrival, we hopped in a tuk-tuk to the Finca Bavaria, a German-Honduran owned small walled coffee finca and hotel on the edge of town. Our room was set in a beautiful but somewhat neglected garden of forest trees, flowers, bananas, mangoes and coffee plants, all hidden behind a high stone wall and foreboding black steel gates – German style. The family who run the finca for the owners comprise a friendly but somewhat dotty hombre, a scowling senora and their pleasant, smiling daughter. The gates were purportedly closed at 10pm, to be opened on knocking, but were closed by 9.30 and opened with comments of ‘ooh, isn’t it late?’


Gracias Chat Up

The town is a small grid pattern of low pan-tiled painted houses, with a labyrinthine market at its centre. Two white Hispanic churches are the highest buildings in the town, one of them set next to a small wooded park. It gets its name from its founder, Spanish Conquistador Juna de Chevez, who called it Thank You to God when he came to this part of Central America in 1536. It is one of the oldest towns in Honduras, and has twice been it capital albeit briefly. An indigenous Lenca revolt against Spanish rule was brutally put down here when the Lenca leader Lempira was murdered on the pretence of an invitation to peace talks. He is now a national hero and his name is the name of the Honduran currency.


Lenca Hombre


Gracias does not get many tourists which means that there is a different atmosphere in town than elsewhere we have visited so far. People are going about their normal lives and as visitors we can see what that means in Honduras rather than solely being on holiday mode and seen by locals as a source of cash. One feature is that there are lots of men in cowboy hats.


Oranges are the only fruit

The market is a delight to explore and buy tortillas, fruit, vegetables and cheese. The outer walls are honeycombed with small shops selling everything from saddles and hardware to clothes and plastic things. Gracias is a place to wander around aimlessly and absorb how people live in highland Honduras. We also climbed to the nearby 19th century Castillo and spent an afternoon in hot springs situated 8km outside the town in a wooded gorge. A group of American and British backpackers arrived mid-afternoon and we shared beers over conversation – the ideal way to enjoy communal bathing. The only issue being the overly-amplified music which was further let down by Depeche Mode, Metallica and Eye of the Tiger.

More photos on our flickr photostream, link top right.

Christmas Day

25^th December

A lie in until 9 then into the hammock for me, a lie in outside until 9 then yoga for Georgia. It’s Christmas morning! Everyone at home will be stuffed or still battling through dinner and our day is just beginning.

We get off to a slow start then head to the beach, still full of panetone, but as it is Christmas I have some for breakfast. The beach is packed with Hondurans today, many coming from nearby towns just for the day. The atmosphere is one of a joyful party, families swimming or having barbecues, men getting slowly drunk, children splashing each other in the sea. We bought coconut cake and bread from women selling on the beach.

We then had our Christmas lunch – avocado, tomato and white cheese salad – completely festive in colour. We had it on the lawn in front of our room, alongside two British backpackers, one of whom opened a bottle of champagne and we shared the remaining panetone.

We tried calling and sending a specially shot video epic Christmas message at the local internet but you could get a better connection with spaghetti so gave up and returned to the hostel to open our presents. We had both gone to the nearby town, Puerto Cortes on the 23^rd to go to the ATM and had set a 100 lempira (£2.50) secret shopping mission after. Georgia got me a beach football, Frisbee, Santa biscuits and Santa lollies while I bought for her a Saints bracelet, a water pistol, a head band (she’d just lost hers), an apple and a mandarin, a wooden bracelet (actually from Caye Caulker) and the most ugliest looking n smelling fruit I’ve seen called a Noni (actually medicinal and good for stomach and kidneys – nice!) all in a Santa bag.

So, we rushed down the beach to play with the ball in the sea, and were quickly joined by a couple of groups of children, Georgia got me with the water pistol again and again and again and again and then we played Frisbee until sunset. I spoke to Rudolph on Christmas Day! It’s true, He was one of lots of Hondurans on holiday we chatted to.

A nice cup of tea and a couple more Italian cakes preceded our Christmas Dinner - coconut curry.

We have had a great Christmas. Despite the beach being dirty and a bloody great oil terminal sitting next door we have enjoyed it massively and joined in Honduran style.

Christmas Eve

24th December

It’s almost 6pm, dusk, in Honduras which means it is nearly midnight Christmas Eve in England. From a hammock, and with a beer, I am watching the fire flies are lazily flying over the lawn of the hostel, twinkle of natural fairy lights to welcome in Buenos Noche. In Central America, as in many parts of Europe, people celebrate on the 24th – Buenos noche meaning Good Night – with family gatherings to exchange presents, eat large meals featuring tamales, cakes, rum and coffee. Chicos are setting of firecrackers. Georgia is on the lawn amongst the fire flies, I’m in a hammock, chilling out before the night ahead for which we have bought panetone and champagne from the Italian bakery.

We need to relax after an active day. We took the two hostel kayaks out to sea just after 10.00am and paddled around the headland to the next beach. The sea had got up in the night so it was fun bobbing up and down on the waves for about half an hour until we reached the beach. This was the quiet beach the guide recommended in favour of the town beach but the amount of flotsam and oily grey sand were a big disappointment. We swam and sunbathe before kayaking back, returning about 2.30pm to have lunch – at last!

We followed the fireflies with another beer and avocado salad alongside the other hostel guests – Mexican, German, British, French, French Canadian, Spanish and Nicaraguan. About 10pm we went outside to promenade with the locals, many of whom were on their ways in large family groups to family dinners and parties, some with pinyatas for the children. Lots of children were out setting off firecrackers, except for one delightful boy who had pretty and more tranquil flying horizontal Catherine wheels. Gangs of teenagers huddled together around bikes, adults outside of bars. After walking the whole length of the street as far as the main road we picked up our champagne and panetone and sat on the end of the dock, under the near-full Full Moon, watching fishes in the water and listening to the party along the beach. The extra dry champagne was delicious yet sweet, the panetone beautifully baked to perfection.

Half the panetone, the whole of the champagne and an hour later and we were on our way to the party. A dark beach dancehall was packed with Hondurans, all couples gyrating to the hot Latin tunes of the enthusiastic DJ. A few slick moves British style showed the locals how to keep their hips still and showing them up we departed for bed.

Rolling into Roli’s Place, Omoa

22nd December onwards.

We picked out Omoa as the place for Christmas and maybe New Year because the guide book said it was a quiet fishing village with a good backpacker’s hostel called Roli’s Place, a Honduran resort and a quiet beach nearby. Georgia remembered it as a nice resort with a good beach 10 years previously. It shouldn’t be too built-up or noisy yet still some Honduran Christmas action.

It is easy to get to. The bus from the Guatemalan border to Puerto Cortes passes through the village and drops you off at the road to the backpackers and the beach. The walk to Roli’s is all flat, 1 km, through the village. The place is beautiful, with gorgeous gardens alive with hummingbirds and butterflies attracted to the flowers. The dock is a short stroll away.

But this is where most of the attractions of Omoa sadly end. The beach has been washed away by a recent expansion of the gas factory, a new breakwater changing the currents and so leaving a narrow strip where once football and volleyball pitches lay. The nearby quiet beach is quiet, surrounded by mangroves, with ospreys in the sea, but it is covered in rubbish. Many mangroves were cut down for the gas terminal and large lorries transporting gas trundle through the village.

If you want somewhere to hang out, recover from travelling and enjoy peaceful nights sleep then Roli’s is perfect. Duck in if you are on the coast road. His 10.30pm quiet curfew is strictly adhered to so it is not for the party crowd. He does provide free use of sea kayaks, bicycles, table tennis, table football and a kitchen, all set in his tranquil gardens, which make it an ideal port f call for quiet recuperation from the road.

There is another great reason to stop off at Omoa – the Paticceria Italiana. Sheltered behind white Roman columns is an Italian bakery owned by an extremely charming Neapolitan. He bakes awesome panetone, delicious pan blanco, exquisite cakes and great pizza as well as having a good supply of Californian champagne. What a find!

Solstice in Tikal

21^st December

I have spent many a night, usually cold, waiting for summer solstice sunrise in England only to be thwarted from seeing the sun rise by cloud, mist and/or rain. My dedication to celebrating the rebirth of the year has never extended to waiting out a British winter solstice, but the prospect of one in perhaps the most important Mayan ruins with Mayan shamen was much more appealing. It would be warmer for a start and there shouldn’t be cloud now the rainy season was over. Should there? This was to be the culmination of Unificacion Maya so there would be lots of hippies just like in England.

Free access to Tikal was arranged by Guatemala’s institute of Mayan, Gaifuna and other spiritual guides and we were collected in two minivans from El Remate at four in the morning to follow one of the festival organisers, Denilo, in convoy. The sky was clear, the stars shone out in brilliance after the setting of the near full moon. After 5km we hit thick mist hanging over the jungle, at the entrance we were told foreigners did not qualify for free entrance so would each have to pay the normal £10 entry fee. As the group groaned and prepared to pay, Georgia and me silently melted into the shadows and at the next checkpoint eased our way past the guards with a £1.30 payment for their time and trouble.

Sounds deadened, shadows dismissed, Tikal in the mist was silently beautiful, temples and trees casting different shades of grey amongst their white blanket. We had the Gran Plaza to ourselves until the rest of the group caught up. Here Guatemala’s finest traditional flautist, Pablo Collado, played a mesmerising concert to people sitting on the steps of Temple 2. A mist shrouded Temple 1 was his backdrop.

By 10.00am we waited for the other organiser, Anne of IxCanaan, to arrive with the shamen. We waited and waited, by 12 midday Georgia gave up and decided to go home. News was that they were held up outside because of the issue of the entry fee. Rumours circulated that they would hold the ceremony outside the gate, some said we should join them in a show of solidarity so that those who could not afford the fee would not miss out. We would give them half an hour said Denilo. Within minutes some of the second group began to enter the Gran Plaza. Another organiser had paid for those without much money, and the ceremony was on for where it was intended – the centre of the Gran Plaza between temples 1 and 2. Just like festivals of the 70s and 80s, the atmosphere rose with the realisation of overcoming the authorities and the odds. Battle of the Beanfield it wasn’t but we all thought we had succeeded against ‘The Corporation’.

The ceremony itself as a 4 hour extravaganza led by Tata Pedro Cruz and his fellow shamen. Part-Mayan fire ceremony, part-Hippy festival, it was a mix of old tradition and new counter culture. Perhaps 200 people participated, maybe 20% Guatemalan. By the end everyone was hot, tired and hugging each other. Unificacion Maya had pulled off a spectacular event that meant a great deal spiritually, emotionally and socially for everyone who attended. The mist parted mid-morning, no one got cold and both the fire and the sunset were spectacular. Only the mist was reminiscent of a British solstice!

Unificacion Maya

15th-18th December


Three shamen

This year’s festival in and near Tikal to celebrate the Mayan solstice and prepare for the beginning of the next Mayan 5,200 year long count era is upon us. We are back in El Remate for a week to participate and help with the festival, organised by Anne of Project IxCanaan. This year is special because the 19th December is the New Year’s Day of the 260 day annual Mayan sacred calendar – the first time in a while the new year and solstice are so close to each other.


Tata and Nana

Three Mayan shamen from the Guatemalan Highlands are leading sacred fire ceremonies each morning by the lake, keeping a sacred fire continually burning where they are staying, and giving information and consultations on the relevance of each person’s Mayan birth date before leading ceremonies with up to 2,500 shamen at Tikal on the 21st to 22nd December.



It is very interesting learning about the traditional Mayan spiritual world and the shamen who connect people with that world of energies that influence our lives. It is a continuation of a 3,000 year-old tradition that has outlasted the abandonment of the Mayan city states, Spanish Conquest and Inquisition, smallpox, denigration of indigenous identity, Civil War, genocide, globalisation and even North American evangelism.


Tata Pedro Cruz welcomes the sun

The people attending the festival, apart from the shamen, are approximately 25% Guatemalan and 75% North American or European. The latter are much the same people who would be attracted to stone circle paganism in Britain, except here there is a direct continuation of the tradition managed and perpetuated from one generation to another by generations of Mayan shamen.



Three things strike me at present.

The spiritual principles discussed by the shamen are similar in many ways to the principles of Hindu Yogis including reincarnation of a spiritual body, meditation, the body as connecting rod with the divine. Now that’s worth thinking about how we explain this without cynically kicking the question in to touch or getting all Graham Hancock over everything. What does this mean? I should find out afgter my consultation with the shamen.

Is it better for westerners searching for spirituality to hang out with people who know what they’re talking about or stone circles?

My birth date sign is a turtle which is highly significant for my life. The lake is my doctor. My birth date is 2 turtle, origin day is 7 monkey, my mission date 10 noj (not yet sure what animal this is). Together it means I am well-balanced, have lots of forward momentum and can go anywhere - sunrise, sunset, where the winds blow, where the winds hide to do my mission which may or may not be about healing but is to do with helpìng others in some way.

San Ignacio

12th-14th December

San Ignacio lies nestled at the confluence of two valleys in the western hills of Belize. We left Indian Church at 7am, receiving a lift from the owner of our guest house with her family, half of who were visiting the hospital in Orange Walk. Two local buses later, via Belize City, and we were in San Ignacio about 4pm. We arrived tired and me with a strangely swollen left foot, the latter probably a result of a scratch and narrow spaces between the seats combined with keeping my camera bag between my feet. A sort of low altitude DVT threat in the making. We shook off one over-enthusiastic tour guide who met us straight off the bus but while sitting in the park as Georgia investigated a campsite with cabanas just outside town I struck up a conversation with a friendly laid-back guide called D’Alessandro who only told me about things I asked.

The town itself isn’t immediately pretty but set in beautiful forested hills. The main highlights were:

Kayaking 14km down the River Macal, passing between forested hills, cruising over rapids and picnicking on a sand bank.





Eating at the South Indian Restaurant!

Meeting Ras Far I, a very gentlemanly Rastafarian from Jamaica

Counting 14 iguanas in adjacent trees.

Meeting the many very friendly, laid-back people of Belize.

Iguanas

14th December



Georgia spotted them first from our kayak. An unusual lump on a branch, high in tree. We hove to and saw it was an orange iguana, all menacing black stripes and spine spikes. Glowering it was.



Once you see one you see lots. On Friday evening just before sunset I counted 14 hanging out on branches, almost one in each tree over a couple of hundred metres. They appear to be soaking up the last warmth from the suns rays before the cool of night.

Mennonites

12th December



Belize is one country that is home to one of those old-fashioned German protestant communities who (mostly) left the present behind sometime in the 1700s. The Mennonites are akin to the more famous Amish. Formed out of German reformation thinking, they eschew most worldly goods, vanities and excesses for a simple life that is closer to their god. They live in distinct, even segregated, communities. We passed through one on the way from Indian Church to Orange Walk. Rows of prim, grey wooden houses, pinched white curtains at the windows, look out in orderly fashion across tidy fields with the occasional evergreen hedge for decoration. Horse-drawn buggies canter along the road, except when parked up under the veranda, and form the dominant traffic challenged only by the occasional Hispanic pick-up. Men and boys where work shirts, jeans and braces or dungarees and straw hats. Women wear loose dark dresses that come below the knee, and scarves or wide-brimmed straw hats.

Not all Mennonites are the same. While some refuse all modern inventions, so travelling by foot, buggy or bicycle, others drive cars and have mobile phones. In the north they wear more cowboy-like upturned hats, in the west the brims turn down. Some are clean-shaven while others have beards as shaving is a sign of bodily vanity.

The Mennonites are in Belize by invitation, arriving in 1962 from Canada after the Canadian government decided all residents had to be citizens. The pacifist, non-aligned Mennonites give no allegiance to secular nation states resulting in some problems up north. Belize needed skilled input to kick start its agricultural production and asked the Mennonites to come along. They now control something like 80% of all Belizean beef, dairy, poultry and egg production, as well as being major house builders.

Lamanai

11th December 2007



Lamanai is a Mayan city next to lagoons and amongst jungle in northern Belize. They are much smaller than Tikal, comprising a couple of beautiful restored pyramids, a ball court and some palace/administrative buildings around plazas. What mostly drew us here was an amazingly well-preserved white stucco mask – probably the face of a god or king – that had been preserved under a later pyramid until archaeologists discovered it in the late 20th century. The visit was well worth it, the 4 metre high mask being one of the best preserved in the Mayan world.



We also enjoyed the excellent visitor centre and museum, howler monkeys, picnic lunch by the lagoon and photographing lots of delicate, gorgeous mushrooms found by Georgia.

On the Road to Indian Church

10th December 2007

We’re on the road again, Caye Caulker fast receding behind our speed boat ferry across a calm, blue Caribbean Sea. C.C. is certainly very much a resort island, nightclubs, sports bars and all. It was great for a week-long holiday. The snorkelling and weather were both good. We unfortunately moved hotels twice to get one decent and quiet – our second being a party venue next to a club – which was Lorraine’s well away from the town and right on the beach. We met some great people and had some great conversations on C.C. with Brits, Canadians, French, Germans and Turks.

A week feels like long enough so we are heading for a tiny village called Indian Church to stay a couple of nights an visit the nearby Mayan ruins of Lamanai. It feels like we’re travelling again rather than being on a long holiday.

We walked across Belize City to get a local bus to Orange Walk, a Hispanic-Mennonite town in the north. We had a three hour wait for the one bus to Indian Church – which runs twice a week – so had lunch, hung out in the central park, ate some crispy apple like fruit with salt, chilli and lime bought from a buy with a trike and got on the bus with everyone an hour before it left. The bus was packed with women returning from the market, children from a school, and a few men. The large, round-backed driver squeezed behind the steering wheel, edged forward, let someone on, edged forward, let someone on, edged forward then eased the bus onto the dirt road. Two hours down a rain-filled pot-holed muddy road running first between sugar cane fields then jungle, dropping off groups of perhaps three at one village, five at the next, and we were at Indian Church. Population 200, three shops (one the venue for watching TV), two comedors, two guest houses, a generator for electricity (only on between 6.30 and 9.30pm) and no light pollution.

Caye Caulker, Belize, Snorkelling

4-8^th December

Coral, brightly coloured fishes, eels, rays, octopuses and turtles –one great tour company called Anwar and a wholly terrible, unprofessional one called Tsunami!

We have been Swimming with the Fishes…….or to be exact, swimming with the Yellow-Tailed Snappers, French Grunts, Pink Squirrelfish and Horse-Eyed Jacks. More Pirates of the Caribbean than fishes of the Caribbean? That’s what the coloured little fishes of the reef we have seen are called. We have seen large colonies of coral towering above the sea-bed, plus rays, eels, octopuses and turtles.

We have been doing what we mostly came to Caye Caulker for – snorkelling. And we love it. We’ve been out on three tours – and here’s a recommendation and a word of warning. Two tours by Anwar were good, one of them excellent. The third with Tsunami was appalling. We strongly recommend anyone who wants to go out with a good and knowledgeable guide to go with Anwar and to avoid Tsunami like the disaster they are named after. But more of this later.

Belize has the world’s second largest Barrier Reef, a line of coral than runs straight down the eastern coast and facing the Caribbean. It is broken places by natural channels and beyond it lies a series of coral and sand atolls. Caye Caulker is one of the sand islands – cayes – just inside the reef and only one of two that are inhabited. The local inhabitants have been long-time lobster fishermen until tourism took off. There is a largish local village sprawled along the key and a strip of hotels, hostels, restaurants, gift shops, jewellery stalls, dive centres and tour shops along the east-facing reef-side.

Two of our trips have been with the impeccable Anwar’s Tours, one with a fantastic guide and all-round top person called Emer. With enthusiasm, dedication and expert knowledge, he has pointed out pinnacle, elkhorn, antler, fire, brain and common sea fan corals. He takes time to point out corals, fishes, lobsters and eels then rises to the service to tell us what they are. He also takes time to answer all questions and explain how the reef works. He’s a star and if you go to Caye Caulker go to Anwar’s for a tour ans ask for one led by Emer if you can. He’s one of the best tour guides we have been with of any sort anywhere in the world.

Strangely the two Anwar’s tours have also been with the same Minnesotan couple celebrating her 60^th birthday. We first went to the local Caye Caulker reef where we saw decent coral and some fish, second to Hol Chan and the Coral Gardens where we saw great coral and lots of fish.

We have also seen the entertaining, disappearing Christmas tree worms which do look like tiny, brightly-coloured Christmas trees. They disappear into their protective coral homes when they sense danger nearby. The corals rise as mounds from the sea bed, each mound a community of different types of hard an soft corals. Most are brown or green with a few purples and yellows thrown in to brighten things up.

Emer has dived to show us a multitude of multi-coloured fishes, the names of most of which are so quickly forgotten as one darting, bright treasure follows on from another. We have seen a variety of parrot, butterfly and angel fish, lots of sub-surface bobbing pipe fish, large shoals of silver and yellow fish hugging close to the coral, large black groupers, plus everyone’s favourite - the barracuda. Just floating looking down on the vibrant, three-dimensional worlds is enough of a delight to make an hour pass as if it is fifteen minutes.

Our third tour could not have been more of a contrast. The disaster that is Tsunami tours were the only company with a confirmed trip to Tunneffe Atoll, out beyond the barrier reef. The boat trip out was exhilarating due to the swell fronting strong winds. At our first stop Rene the guide swam off at breakneck speed leaving us all trailing in his wake. He pointed out only one fish but was keener to get to deeper water to harpoon his dinner. Half of the group were left behind, including three older, less fit Americans. Rene shouted at them to keep up and complained to me they should not be on the tour. A long swim later and we all made it back to the boat tired but the three Americans were struggling and Rene had to go back to escort them in. They only made it out of the boat one more time during the day.

We stopped on the sandy atoll itself for lunch and at three more locations to snorkel. Despite Tsunami saying the guide would show us coral and fish and that we could not snorkel by ourselves, Rene did not do any more guiding and either sat in the boat smoking cigarettes or went off on his own to hunt, bringing back a lobster and a fish. He also threw a live turtle in the boat for us to look at and shouted at one guy who put it back in the water as soon as anyone possibly could, poor turtle.

The large coral formations towering from the sea bed were stunning at Turneffe and because we had two good tours previously, both of us were happy to snorkel and look for things ourselves. We swam around colonies of different coloured corals, many with fish. But, not once did Rene offer to tell us where the good coral was, which direction to swim or how far unless we pressed him. Any of us could have gone too far and found a strong, cold current.

I hired an underwater digital camera from Tsunami which did not work the whole trip. When I brought it back, Heather who was running the shop was rude and offensive as she accused me of mistreating the camera while explaining that tourists lie to her and damage the cameras themselves. I said the memory card was faulty, in my opinion, which she worked out too while miserably bad mouthing tourists. Then refused a refund until she had checked with the woman who hired me the camera and we had to go back the next day to see if she would consider a refund. The whole attitude of Tsunami – their health and safety, guiding, communication and customer service was of the lowest standard you could imagine – in other words ‘utter shite’.

My highlights are the fish I’ve not seen before and long wanted to swim with.

We have had the honour at one location of being visited time again by a fly-past of at least 22 sting rays, silently gliding over the sea bed in graceful formations. A couple of larger spotted eagle rays have slipped past, their matt black bodies seeming to cast dark shadows across the water.

G. adds: yes... we have seen wonderful life under the water, and eagle rays are surely one of my favourite ever creatures on the planet to see. I loved the way that Emer pointed out all the little and more commonly seen fish as well as the 'big 5' so beloved of tour guides. the day after, I went back to Anwar's shop and spent an hour perhaps just sitting with the guide and browsing the reference books going over what we'd seen and identifying more or variations. They're a great outfit.

Caye wot a Caulker

Wed, sometime in December.

Caye Caulker here we are!



A fast boat ride - two big V6 200 bhp outboard motors - and 45 minutes later we were on the Caye, a long paddle of sand and mangroves protected from the Caribbean by a coral reef.



It's reggae boyz meets latin america meets mundo maya all together in a laid-back sort of way.


Sunrise from our balcony. Oh the pain!

We've been snorkelling out on the near reef for the afternoon. The highlights among many were the entertaining green moray eel coming to see us off, and a family of 22 stingrays that continually kept passing in silent flight under us to check us out. Simply stunningly beautiful. I've wanted to see rays for a long time, Georgia has seen them before, so was very happy. Georgia also saw a big spotted eagle ray. We visited three places and saw quite a bit of coral, mostly brain coral, and some colourful fishes.


Gone fishing


Merry Christmas Tree, Caribbean stylee.

Cock Cheese Boy Rentals

4^th December

If asked to sum up a white-sand Caribbean island surrounded by reef, as Caye Caulker is, then the four words of our title may not be the first to come to most people’s minds. However, we were presented with the shadier side of island life on our first night.

Except…’Cock Brand’ is the main Belizean brand of Edam while ‘Island Boy Rentals’ has solely bicycles and kayaks for hire.

Bored by Bus

3^rd December.

We decided to go to Belize by the relatively upmarket Linea Dorada coach which would take us straight from El Remate to the Marine Terminal in Belize City. Normally we’d go by the regular local bus services for cost and because you are much more in the country travelling local than going with lots of other foreigners and the middle classes. But, LD’s four hour journey would get us to the terminal for the 1.30pm boat to Caye Caulker, possibly even the 12pm if lucky. The extra £4 each would be worth it. Nothing like it.

The first hold-up was on the border when the Belize customs would not let into the country two Guatemalans travelling with North American evangelical missionaries. We waited for approaching two hours as they tried to sort the problem out with the Guatemalans eventually being allowed a two-week stay.

The next hold-up came after a tyre-bursting popping sound erupted from the rear. It was actually a break line and the driver changed from his driving ‘suit’ to overalls to fix it while an American passenger held his clean clothes. It was a good chance to talk to the American who has been living in Belize for a few years at Copper Creek near the Mexican border.

We eventually rattled into Belize, wincing at every new rattle and clank – the gearbox becoming the next contender to break down – nearly 3 hours late. We were happily in good time for the 3.30pm boat.

Yaxha

The last weekend in El Remate before we go to Caye Caulker in Belize for a 10 day holiday. Can't wait.

On Saturday I visited La Blanca and Yaxha while Georgia worked on a couple of inHeritage comics. I was kindly given a lift by Lou, an American living in El Remate with half a dozen businesses and ideas for a hundred more. We met the archaeologists digging in La Blanca, were comically charged 80Qs for two lunches that should have been 40Qs and settled on 50Qs, then he dropped me off at Yaxha for the afternoon before returning to collect me after sunset.

Yaxha is another fantastic jungle-clad Mayan city that has recently been renovated and had some great infrastructure added to it - wooden walkways and decent signs. It's right next to a lake too.

Here's some photos


Yaxha Pyramid


Lake Sunset from Templo Mayor


Stucco Glyph

Land and Lawyers

Friday 30th Nov.

The next stage of our land purchase and registration goes through.

First we return to the municipality to hand on the paper the mayor has written for us to 'dismember' our plot from Gonzalo's whole landholding. We meet the municipality officer again who asks why we have come back. Hmmm? We say to give you the documents you asked for. He sort of shrugs, accepts them and hands them to someone else in the office. We get time for one question. How long with the process take to get legal title.

Twenty days or so he says. The mayor of El Remate will be told, he'll tell us - or Carolyn - the Canadian who is going to represent us and then we go to a lawyer to finalise everything.

Our next stop today is to visit the lawyer to arrange power of attorney for Carolyn. We explain what we want to do at the desk and things take a dark turn. The receptionist explains we have not yet bought anything. Have we paid any money? Yes. But only a little amount? No, it all. Sucks teeth. Oh dear, you must get Gonzalo in this afternoon to sign a letter saying he will give you the title to the land. We try and explain that he does not have title yet but we get nowhere.

Shaken, we sit down and wait to see the lawyer - a big emotive man behind a big wooden desk. he glances at our papers as Georgia explains. It is strange being on the edge of a conversation in another language and not being able to contribute.

He glowers and in a deep, serious voice explains that we have not bought anything, the papers are worthless and that we must get Gonzalo in. Georgia says that the municipality AND the Mayor have not said anything about this and think everything is in order. 'They are wrong or lying' is what I tihnk he says. The atmosphere darkens, our insides liquify. Bugger! He brusquely picks the papers from me, which he has stapled together, and asks where the lake is, where the road is on the map. We say a long distance away, this is not the main road but a lane. The land is inside not lakeside. Instantly he leaps to his feet, smiles and shakes Georgia's hand while proclaiming 'no problema'. There's no problem then, everything is in order, the right procedure has been followed, give Carolyn photocopies of your passports and she can act for you when the title is ready to be legally finalised. Goodbye.

A scene from Not the Nine O'Clock News or the Guatemalan legal system?

It left us perplexed though a lot happier.

Technical Terrain Things

7am, Thursday, 29th November.

We visit the major who is already at work. Plenty of people we know have been going to him to have land title issues finalised. We find out that Friday is the cut-off date for this mayor. A new mayor is to be installed in Jan for four years and the current system closes new land business on Friday. We're in by the skin of our teeth if he has had time to correct our document. And what about this technicality he needs to explain.

As we wait we can see a big map of El Remate land plots on his wall. We can see ours. It officially exists!

The mayor brings us our papers. Our nationality is now tippexed to English.

The technicality - he tells us we must take this to the land office to a man called Elme and not to the town mayor. Elme is a man we know from Tuesday and is actually one of our land neighbours! That's it.

So Friday we will go to see Elme, with how long a queue? Then we'll visit a lawyer.

Land Transfer

Wednesday. We're moving on well.

The seller can't give us his ownership document because it has more land on it than just ours so he lends it to us to take to the assistant mayor and to photocopy. I visit the mayor with Anne for good Spanish back-up, Georgia is busy getting her last day party together for the kids, at about 12 noon. High noon?

We are greeted by his vicious, but thankfully chained, dog and a glowering mayor . Have we woken him from a siesta?

Anne speaks for us and he explains what he can do. We help speed up the process and he promises the completed document by 4pm - the same day.

We return the seller's document - have a mad party while I also tidy up and upload a website for the Unificacion Maya event organised by IxCanaan - then I'm back to the mayor by 5pm.

He has done the document. All seems in order...except...uh oh....he has our nationalities down as Canadian. Another volunteer who is Canadian is also buying a small piece of land and going through this whole process with us. I point this out and he says he will correct it by 7am Thursday but I must bring a Spanish speaker with me as he has something technical to explain.

Tales from the Land

The process of buying our land continues apace. Though there is a reputation that things take longer to do in Guatemala than somewhere like England it has to be said that so far buying the land is much quicker than in the UK. But then so far lawyers have not been involved to drag their heels.

Tuesday. I visited the municipality office in the local town of Flores with Enrique, the doctor of IxCanaan, as our Guatemalan resident. Needed to hold the transfer of land from leasehold from the government to our own title.

We queue in front of the office of rural land, agriculture and natural resources and decide we will also push in once a number of locals have barged their ways past the gringos.

We speak to the officer and he explains the paperwork which is a simple form. Our local resident however has not paid his council task so we go downstairs and pay it for him - about £1. We also have to photocopy our forms.

The queue is massive when we return to the office and I am glowered at when I join in the going straight into the door maneuvere. However, the assistant beckons me forward and staples all the forms together then drops the bombshell. The process cannot continue until either we get our seller's original ownership document or the assistant mayor to write a letter saying our land has been dismembered from the seller's larger plot. Cahones.

Well we've done what we can for the day.

Ways to find out England are not in Europe

Wednesday 21st Nov.

Just like the Likely Lads? Except Brian Glover was played by a short moustached and armed guard escorting tourists out of Tikal after sunset.

Estas Suisse? (Are you Swiss - informal)
No (No)
De donde eres (Where are you from?)
De Inglaterra (I'm from England)
Ingles?! (English)
Si (Yes)
Inglaterra equipo de futbol terminado (The England football team is terminated)
Que? (What?)
Terminado! (Terminated)
Copa de Europa? (European Cup?)
Si (Yes)
Croatia...? (Croatia?)
Tres (Three goals)
y (and...)
Inglaterra dos (England two)
Cahones (Balls)

Our land!

We are landowners!!!! (we hope....)
And we should soon be getting some photos online.



The land
We have bought a beautiful little piece of forested land on the edge of the village of El Remate, about 10 minutes walk from the lake. It has some big old jungle trees with beautiful epiphytes growing on them, and will be perfect territory for orchids in the longer term. It has many younger trees, including a little fruit (not much yet), some medicine trees and many ramon nut trees. The ramon nut is currently big news on the health food scene and is used here to make coffee, tortillas and bread flour.

We looked at it early in the visit and then looked at various other pieces and then realised, having seen more, just how lovely it is. It faces south and has a couple of sloping areas, although a view will have to be cleared/enhanced by selective thinning of the less outstanding younger vegetation, within the context of preserving and maintaining forested land and big trees.



We are not aiming to build a house on it yet, but simply put up a fence to try to help deter the land grabbers and plant stealers of the area (we’ll see....) and it is bang next door to our new Canadian neighbour who will be living here a year, and behind the women’s centre.

It measures something like 75 x 75 x 25 x 35 x 35 metres (in a weirdey 5 sided rhomboid kind of way) and we think has mainly good neighbours, most of whom just hold the forested land with no building on their patches.



We hope to get a few more fruit trees in before we leave, to give them time to grow up a bit over the next 2-3 years before we can come back.

And if we change our minds, it was a bargain and is beautiful and should be easy to sell, or simply to maintain as wild space.

The purchasing process
Amusing, although not to any of you who have recently been through 6 month property purchasing and selling experiences in the UK!

Friday night: decide to go for it for definite.

Saturday afternoon: hunt down Gonzalo, the owner and say we’d like to go up together and pace the boundaries, now even if it is getting towards sunset. Back to owners house, agree price, agree sale chat about contacting the mayor (who has to be involved) on Monday to continue.

Sunday morning: tip out of bed onto yoga platform on dock and into lake. And go for a HUGE swim only to arrive back to a grinning Gonzalo gesticulating about crocodiles and Bill. Oh no… had G changed his mind?
NO, but…
The mayor is only available now, we need to do it now.
Troop off to meet small bloke in scruffy clothes and think ‘is this a scam?’
Small bloke owns a bicycle (posh) and says he will catch us up if we start to walk to land. It is midday and hotter than a monkey’s bum.

Newly apparelled mayor in slacks and shirt sleeves and authoritative looking bag turns up on bicycle by football match and laughs at us for not having got further, pauses a while to watch the football.

We all go up to land and are relieved to find Carolyn and Anne (project managaer) and others at Carolyn’s adjacent land and they confirm YES it is the mayor(or att least the same bloke Carolyn had to measure hers).


Check out that big tree at the back. Hope its still there when we come back!

Mayor and G start pacing the boundaries, laying a tape measure and writing down the boundary measures as marked out by red-tipped sticks. This is the official and universally recognised way. Sometimes we come across a little sticky party near a complex arrangement of adjacent corners from bordering plots.

Mayor take a piece of cleanly sawn wood and sits on it while writing up the measurements. It is done in silence and with great dignity and this very quiet man clearly has a kind of natural authority that comes from his quiet dignity. We all sign, he signs and stamps it, hands it to us and then changes his minid and hands it to G.

Gonzalo takes the original until Bill can go to bank on Monday, and when a chunk of the money is handed over, G hands us the original and that is the deed, done by noon on Monday, with one further visit to the bank on Tuesday for the bit we weren’t allowed to get out on Monday. There is a daily limit on cash withdrawals and it is probably just a well, since (as per last post) the highest denomination not is 100Q and deals in tens of thousands just do involve stuffing it all in a carrier bag and trying to look like you’re only carrying string (thank goodness Santa Elena is not Guatemala City! We’d need armed guards then). Gonzalo asks to be let off at the airport and is last seen hurrying into the terminus with several thousand Q in a carrier bag…. Leading to much speculation!



The paperwork
Had a great reality check from our beautifully authoritative landlady the other day who reminded us that we MUST get a lawyer involved and we all kind of gulped a bit and I thought , well it´s not ALL our money if it all goes tits up, whereas Carolyn has most her house built already. But in fact a trip to the lawyer has reassured us all that things should be pretty tickety boo, although it takes a wee while to process all the necessary paper work.

We have to have a Guatemalan represente, who will initially be registered as a kind of ‘owner for the sake of the papaerwork’ with it being absolutely clearly known and still the legal position that B&I are the real owners. Then a lawyer takes that bit of paper and draws up the legal title document (legal title being a fairly new thing this year in a country where the political history and social land-grabbing customs mean very little land has much more than a 30 year provenance in this area, and much of that is chequered).-

Bill has just come back from 4 days at Tikal getting together the last of a set of photos he has had planned. His photography is getting better and better and he totally loves it. Landlady Mimi was hugely complimentary as she had stumbled across the Blog by chance when she was laid up with a bad leg in Guatemala city (what a place. She says she has lost count of the number of pairs of spectacles she has lost as people snatch them from her face in the street, and yet where she lives is a new literary zone full of libraries and daily reading clubs and so forth... certainly a place of contrasts).


Next plans
So next stop, land wise, is getting a fence constructed around the perimeter.

Comings and Goings

Goings
It’s been a hectic couple of weeks for comings and goings around El Remate. Marilyn and Joe, enthusiastic volunteers at Ixcanaan created a huge great bang of a party to leave with and the poor old doggie piñata was beaten severely, though “no kids were hurt in the making of this event!” Well, except a couple of wee ones who got trampled on, but that’s the nature of piñata, I think. It was pretty sad for them to leave, but certainly Marilyn left with strong hopes to come back next year. It kind of gets you that way.

Anne’s friend Andrea from Canada arrived with her fabulous 13yearold son Kalen and joined the whirlwind of landbuying. What a story. Having decided to go for it on the Wednesday night and with a flight booked for 11 am Friday morning, she went to the property on Thursday morning to have it measured. It´s big. It took a while. Thursday afternoon to face the usual extensive and slow-moving bank queues only to find a limit on per day cash advances that meant 3 days worth of queuing would be necessary. What to DO???

WELLLLL, fortunately the vendor was there and wanted a car. Off to a dealership to buy a pickup for Andrea to buy on her visa and hence deal with some of the money that way. Car bought without test drive, papers, nada. BUT…. Dealership doesn’t take Visa. What to DO???? Wellll dealer has a cousin who knows a guy who owns a service station which does take visa. Off to service station to pay them for pickup truck by visa so they can pay car dealer by cash. BUT…. More queues and 4 phone calls required to requisition the necessary amount of money. SO… there is still an outstanding balance. What to DO???? After a celebratory dinner at Gringo Perdido (they can cook), all to bed late with the plan, hope and everything crossed, of managing to get the necessary cash from the bank first thing in the morning before the 11 am flight. Now to any UK residents among you, this may not sound a tall order. HOWEVER….. But it happened! Denilo is a happy bunny with less land, a new car and a bunch of notes. There is no denomination bigger than 100 Quetzal note. Dealing in tens of thousands of Quetzals is absolutely a question of stuffing it all in a carrier bag and aiming to wander around looking like all you’re carrying is string. Andrea and Kalen have joined the posse of landowners.

Bill went to Tikal on Wednesday and is due back at the weekend.

Comings
Mimi our fabulous landlady arrived back from Guatemala City with Lucky her outstandingly wonderful daughter. What a family! It’s great to see both, although since Paco, Lucky’s husband, is also back from Copan where he has been working for the last 3 weeks at the beginning of his one year archaeology contract there, we a re not expecting to see much of either Lucky or Paco for a few days. It’ll be great to catch up with Lucky after Paco returns to work. What an amazing balance for an archaeologist: the intricate stelae and hieroglyphs of Copan, interspersed with the monumental BIGness of Tikal.

Bill’s certainly looking forward to Copan also.

US say it quietly and say it with not a little sadness.
We are going on 3 December, for a week’s holiday snorkelling and so forth on Caye Caulker, Belize, before returning for the Unificacion Maya ceremonies and goings on in the village.

But we shall certainly be back. After all, we’re landowners now! (probably….)

The Unbearable Itchiness of Being

There are three types of itchiness we have so far discovered in tropical central America.

1. The surface, nagging, itch of a mozzie bite. Its right on top of your skin, almost hot. You don't always notice it but then it kicks in screaming scratch me! It's difficult to resist, especially when half-asleep. Scratching these eases the itch but quickly hurts.

2. The exquisite pain of a sand-fly bite. These are pin-point pricks of intense itchiness that are almost too nice not to scratch. The pleasure can continue for minutes. They are particularly prone on the toes and in-steps of your feet which just heightens the bliss-agony, the delicious demand to scratch but like all itches hurts when scratched for too long. These are truly unbearable before sleep.

3. The deep, under the skin somewhere but not exactly sure where general itch of a fungal attack. Yes, its not nice but we have jungle fungal infections. Trouble is you can never quite get to where the itch is buried and scratching has no good effect at all.

There are ofcourse more itchinesses but we have so far been spared bed bugs or fleas. We have seen lots of dogs squint-eyed in enjoyment from scratching the latter.

Tikal for the Weekend

Monday, 11th November and we are resting after a weekend at Tikal. Well, I am. Georgia is back at La Biblioteca con Los ninos y ninas. I’ve been going up two or even three times a week to photograph the most visited and best preserved/reconstructed ancient Mayan city in Guatemala. But that involves an early start and a departure well before sunset, as well as the inevitable haggling over fare. Esta 10 quatzales por una Guatemelteca and usually 15 for uno turisto. Pero muchos collectivos quiren 20 or even 30 quatzelas. No me gusta! It’s a pain haggling with the minibus drivers but often saying I’m a volunteer at the library helps. We decided we would have a weekend away and stay in the luxury Jungle Lodge right next to the gates of the site. We could stay for sunset on Saturday and be up for sunrise on Sunday as well as treat ourselves to dinner on white linen under a palm-thatched roof and Victorian black and white photos of the temples being cleared of jungle.

We checked in with Oliver who has clearly been on a tourism training course that said a real smile is with the eyes and closed them everytime he did smile which was about twice a minute. We had a nice little room with a balcony overlooking a narrow, beautifully planted garden, into the jungle. Georgia was greatly attracted to the open air swimming pool surrounded by jungle. The Lodge lives up to its name!

We managed to eventually find out that for 50 quatzels we could enter the site an hour before official opening at 6am with a guard to be escorted to Temple 4 to watch sunrise. Oliver didn’t tell us this, the ticket seller didn’t tell us this. Only a guar overhearing our enquiry told us this.

We have had two great days wandering around probably the most dramatic Mayan city in Central America. It was one of the biggest and most influential in its day, though not the biggest. However, they still mostly survive as forested mounds with little uncovered to understand a Mayan city. What really makes Tikal are the six dramatic pyramid temples that soar above the forest canopy, Temple 4 is the highest at 70 metres and from here you can see jungle as far as every horizon, look down on mighty rainforest trees, watch branches and trees shake to the swinging and clambering of spider monkey foraging for fruit, follow parrots, toucans, vultures and hawks flutter, swoop, soar and glide above the trees. There are few rainforests in the world with such majestic and high viewing platforms.

Sunset was one where a large dark red fiery disc, fractured by fingers of cloud, sinks lazily towards the horizon. Flocks of green parrots squawked their way from one tree to another in search of a roost. Darkness and silence descended with it.

Sunrise was a gentle, gradual lightening of promise for a new day. The night had been quiet except for the chilling roar of a group of agitated howler monkeys and dark save the overwhelming lights of stars, planets and the Milky Way glimpsed between clearings. We climbed Temple 4 to look over the silhouetted proud crowns of four other pyramids to the east. Then, as half light burrowed into the shadows the jungle began to awake. First the howler monkeys let out their loud roars stating they were here, that others should not invade their tree-top territories. They opened their mouths, inflated their throats, and the jungle raged to the sound of demons unleashed from hell. Then, surprisingly, came silence with the dawn. The howlers stopped. Except it was totally quiet. Now that they could be heard, the birds filled the morning light with song. Sparsely came the notes at first until the sun was above the horizon, then every tree seemed alive with every type of song and call as they too announced their territorial presence. Branches began to bend to the first spider monkeys searching for food, toucans flitted to the tops of fruit trees. Ungainly in their swooping flight and comical with their oversized and overcoloured beaks, they kept high in twos and threes. If ever a bird was created based on the winning entry in a young children’s art contest, the toucan would be it.

Dawn went through a slow blending of grey, yellow and orange hues. Subtly, the clouds grew pink and orange high in the sky, the sun shielded by a larger cloud. Yellow vertical bands of light shimmered on the horizon below the cloud. After the light show, the dozens of other tourists left to start their various tours. We remained on high and were treat to the sound and sight of the jungle without camera shutters or flash bulbs. Cloud hung low in the hollows of the ground, casting treetops in silhouette. The bright oranges and pinks gave away to misty whites and diluted golds and then the sun climbed above the cloud and the jungle shimmered like a sea, the temples like majestic sailing ships waiting to set sail. What a way to spend a Sunday morning!

I have put some of my photographs of and from Tikal on my photography website - Tikal Photos
Enjoy!

El Remate and La Biblioteca

There are also some photographs of El Remarte and La Biblioteca on my flickr stream .

We have now been in El Remate for three weeks. It is a village of maybe 2,500 people spread back into the jungle alongside the road from Santa Elena, the nearest town 30 km away, to Tikal. It lies on the eastern edge of the mighty Lake Peten Itza, the largest lake in the region. Tikal is nearly 30k in the other direction, and the border with Belize 60km to the east. We stay in a cabana in the lakeside garden of a house. We swim in the constantly warm lake almost every day and watch the sun set over the water.

There are details of La Biblioteca under the IxCanaan link, along with the other initiatives supported by the Project.

Georgia spends each weekday afternoon leading activity sessions for about 25 children between 4 and 12. Other volunteers she has worked with include Eva from Poland and Marilyn from Chile. I have helped suggest ways of packaging an event run by the project to celebrate the Mayan solstice. Called Unificacion Maya it is a week of events designed to bring tourists into the village to participate in ceremonies and go on other activities from horse riding and boat trips to learning about Mayan cooking, medicine and their calendar. I also designed the leaflet and have installed a common suite of applications on the library computers including much-needed anti-virus software along with Word, Excel and Firefox. The computers are used by older children for internet research, when not browsing porn!, and hopefully future volunteers can teach various computer skills including word-processing, spreadsheets, web design and picture editing. I have been hoping to take high quality photographs of carved wood ornaments women make for tourists but despite the enthusiasm of the president of the women’s group nothing has appeared to photograph yet. Mañana, Mañana!

Guatemalan Elections

We witnessed the fervour of democracy inaction on Sunday the 4th Nov when we wandered down to the local polling station. It was a big day - the contest between the right wing ex army man Molina who leads the Patriotic Party who would use the strong arm to solve the country's problems and the supposed centre-left Colom of UNE who's logo is two hands forming a dove of peace. he promises to fight violence with intelligence and looks like a mild-mannered head master. His side-kicks - the Baldizon (I kid you not) brothers - look much more suspicious. One of our Guatemalan friends reckons both are right wing parties but UNE the least worse.



Colom and UNE won. A mild surprise. He promises to tackle gun crime and drug trafficking but it is widely reported that UNE are funded by the drug mafia. He doesn't quite appear to be a Guatemalan Hugo Chevez.

Skulls, Drunks and Broken Taps

El Remate, the Peten, northern Guatemala.

On Thursday we decided to head to the village of San Jose on the other side of Lake Peten Itza. It was November 1st, All Saints Day. This is widely and strongly celebrated here because of the mix of Catholic faith and traditional religion which honoured the dead and ancestors. People across the country walk in large numbers to the cemeteries to have picnics with their dead families, wash and paint the graves, and place wreaths of bright flowers. We had been told that San Jose, having a alrge Maya population, had a traditional ceremony where Three Skulls were taken in procession around the village.

The day started well with a beautiful boat trip across the lake from the town of flores to the village of San Andreas only 2km from San Jose. Andreas has the hotels and we´d been recommend Villa Benjamin on the basis of its view and restaurant. After disembarking we climbed the near vertical village streets, following directions further and further up the hill. THe directions got shorted each time suggesting we were really getting closer until the last person we asked pointed and used only one word - arriber - up! When we reached the hotel the view was truly spectacular - right across the jungle-fringed lake and down into the turqoiuse waters below where kids leapt off a wooden dock. The only hitch was the somewhat shady hotel managed who couldn´t say anything - and I mean anything - without winking or suggesting in hushed tones he was doing us the sort of favour that should have involved him producing silk stockings and silver watches from a raincoat. His somewhat dubious antics put us off but being tired and hungry, by now it was 2pm ,we decided just to have lunch before deciding our next move. As the food was great and his wife more normally friendly, we thought we´d take a room as we were here. The gardens were beautiful and we wouldn´t have to speak to him. We paid then heard the shattering news that they were leaving at 4m the next morning to visit her family grave so there would be no breakfast.

Not diheartened by the news, lack of light in the baño, unfinished electrical wiring, cobwebs or fake stone walls, we set off along the road to San Jose for a sunset walk beside the lake. The water shimmered blue and aqua in one direction, shades of pink and purple in the other. We hung out on a dock by San Jose´s part-built concrete promenade which promised tourists, cafes and car parks galore. We then thought, as it was nearly 6 and our reports varied between 6 and 7 for the start of the ceremony, we should find the church where the action was meant to begin.

Skulls
We climbed to the sound of bells and the vision of a white bell tower to find a church almost empty except for three skulls lined up in front of the alter, each with a raised cross on its forehead. After about 20 minutes of sitting in the empty church, except for the occasional bit of activity as a mujer brought a decoration or alter piece out, we thought best to get a drink and come back later.

Drunks
We pitched up at a small bar for a soda and a licuado de papaya to be hailed from the back by a guy saying ´why not come in´. Why not chat with the locals. The three guys didn´t instanly look like they had been drinking for that long. There were the husband of the woman doing all of the work, his father-in-law (both from El Salvador) and a local friend. Georgia was soon speaking Spanish to the father in law and friend while the other guy decided to talk at me ni English. Neither of us spoke much for the next half hour or so. My amigo had come to Peten after a vision of god while on magic mushrooms after leaving the US Army cadets. He had seen eyes appear on the floor and walls, then the earth at way and in hunger. A voice spoke to him, saying ´why do you think it doesn´t not explode´before two hands cupped the earth. Taking this as a sign that he hd to go to the Peten and show the locals how to save the rainforest by growing vegetables on rafts of waste in the lake, he had ended up drunk in San Jose.

Skulls again
The church bell rang again and we took this as our cue to escape, climbed back up to the chruch to find a full Catholic mass about to begin. THe church was packed, there were plenty of chicos and chicas hanging around outside the open doors and as the mass progressed more people wandered in and out. A dog sallied in, wagging its tale as it sauntered downthe aisle until it found someone it knew and sniffed them. It soon became bored and wandered out again. That was probably the highlight for me. Realising that the mass was going to go on for a long time and that any procession wasn´t shaping up to be that spectacular we decided to walk back to our hotel.

Broken Tap
We crashed out in our room but as the toilet cistern wouldn´t stop filling up Georgia went to flush it again and turn off a dripping tap. Suddenly water was flooding everywhere and I found Georgia trying to keep the tap on the faucet. I took over so she could get the manager, as our room and the balcony flooded. Thankfully he turned off the ater without trying to sell us a new plumbing system or blackmarket coffee and we moved room. About two hours later there was a knock on the door and he shouted something, apparently prompted by his wife. It seemed to be that he wanted us to pay for the tap we´d clearly broken. Giving the general unfinished and uncared for state of the rooms we thught we´d not enter into the conversation.

Trees and Ants

We've just had a very relaxing weekend. Got up about 8am rather than our usual 5.30 or 6am. You need to get up that early to get a good yoga session in before it gets too hot. Its also a beautiful time of day as the light changes and the forest wakes up. Mind you, the roosters have usually been up half the night already crowing about things. Tempts me to give up being a vegetarian and going hunting!

We hung out by the lake, went for a couple of walks and found a great cafe with a lake view balcony and delicious fruit juices - called licuados in Spanish - at 8Quatzales.


Leafcutter Ant

I have got into photographing leafcutter ants and trees. The ants are amazing. They're strung out everywhere in long busy lines of wobbling, moving bright green leaves. But the best are the gangs that hurry back and forward across one of the footpaths through the Cerro Cahui Biotopo. They have the choicest, biggest, greenest leaves and the best soldeir ants to guard them and move obstacles out of their way. Every so often an ant falls or drops its leaf and its like a small green animal has tripped. They wind their way over sticks and down the sides of the stones like an Its A Knockout course developed by Michael Bentine's Potty Time. And most of them are not only carrying a leaf 10 times their size but also a hitchhiker too. There's nearly always another ant riding the leaf. I don't know why. has it just got tired and looking for a free ride back or is it there to help cross difficult obstacles?


Leafcutter Troupe

The trees these tiny ants are diligently chopping leaves from tower overhead. Rainforest trees are magnificent. They snake up to a high canopy of all shapes and colours. What is best about them are the epyphytes that cling to their branches, sucking moisture from the air through their hanging roots. The trees are where the fertility of the rainforest is stored. Not in the ground which is low quality thin limestone soil, but growing in the air.

Remove the forest and you lose the fertility. The ancient Maya knew how to grow crops on massive mats of compost, to work with the forest rather than destroy it all. That's why they successfully sustained a massive city-state culture for over a thousand years. And the end of the city-state phase wasn't due to over-exploitation of the forest but the loss of credibility of their elites, probably caused by too much aggressive competition between cities.


Tree Dancer

Reasons to be cheerful

1 Ian Dury,of course.


and here, in no particular order...

2. the sound ducks make paddling their bills around in muddy puddles looking for food.

3. Eddie Izzard, Darth Veda and the Death Star canteen.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv5iEK-IEzw

4. The sun is back and the lake is glittering in Caribbean turquoise and purple slate tones.

5. My fungal feet are looking less like they´re heading for amputation and more like they´re on the way up: this jungle life.

6. Groups of size-correlated baby chickens meandering and scuttling around the village.

7. 2 fantastic days with the kids where we´ve all enjoyed ourselves.

8. The domino effect of 24 kids standing shoulder-to-shoulder all trying to raise their arms at the same time while standing on one leg.

9. Successfully cooking some vegetables (it may not sound much, but the technicalities have proved taxing at times)

10. Just, because.

Top of Tikal

On Monday I was taken on a tour of Tikal by Paco, the thirty-something govermnent archaeologist who works on the monument. I have got to know him through my Spanish teacher who he is married to. His English is excellent and his sense of humour pretty damn good too.

The highlights were:


On top of Temple 4, 70 metres up without a net!

climbing the scaffolding built around the very, very top of Temple 4 to stand on the 1.5 metre wide very, very top of the temple. This is the upper surface of the roof comb, a hollow limestone decorative crest to the temple which is the box like building on top of the seven pyramid platforms. At 70 metres high and way above the jungle canopy it is heighest spot in Tikal! The views were of continuous jungle all the way to all horizons! the scaffolding is there to facilitate conservation work and no, there were no hard hats, no ladders and certainly no safety lines involved.


Paco. His tunnel is beneath those tress, at the bottom.

looking into Pacos tunnel. We couldn't go in as the 'workers' were on a public holiday but its a real archaeological tunnel, 1.9 metres high, 1.2metres wide and 20 metres long. It's got another 20 metres to go before it finishes in the middle of the base platform.


Check out Chac

going into a cordoned off old excavation tunnel to look at two large statues of the face of the rain god Chac.


Temple 1 in the late afternoon sun

Thank you Paco for a great tour and wonderful day out!

There's more Tikal photos on my flickr photostream flickr stream