Panama City: Mini Manhattan of the Americas

As the race against time ensues, I finally arrived in Panama 2 days before my flight to the city of David in order to take a transfer onward to Panama on a night bus. Froze my butt off on the bus with the AC pumped at150% and arrived at Panama City before dawn, and took a cab to the hostal only to be locked outside until opening time, 3+ hours later. Finally was admitted in, and my day started by being sent from 1 bank to another. 7 banks & 2 taxi rides later, only to find out that not one bank accepts Traveller's cheques... except one but charges 4%! so those of you who are reading this, TCs are a dying breed!! It causes more problems, wastes more time than it saves *cry*  Cash is still King in Latin America (although I did get lucky in El Salvador, Guate, Honduras).

On a more positive note, I went to see the famous Panama Canal which is really impressive at the sheer sight of it. Reading the numbers can impress the statisticians, but seeing the colossal size of the ships, and imagining the amount of work involved to take an Ocean Highway (Cargo Ship) with a beam of 32m, length of 179m cruising into the water chambers prepared to level the water for travelling from the Atlantic to the Pacific across a 77km canal, took my breath away. The Canal is a showroom of men dominating nature, however not without sacrifice of around 27,500 lives.

The ladder part of the day was spent cruising in one of the 4-5 shopping malls of the city that put our Carrefour Laval to shame :o !! It is gigantic, bright, full of people, bursting with life! I felt like I was in an American mall had it not been the Spanish signs. The bus ride back to my hotel was one of the most memorable of my life.

I fell in love again. With Life. Somewhere between the moments of a long travel journey, one gets distracted, then lost, sidetracked from the initial aim. I have woken up from a conscientious stupor that I slipped in, as if swayed into hypnosis by the waves of the island life of Corn Island of Nicaragua. Thanks to what ya say?

• To the electric and vibrant energy rising from the inumerable sky scrapers that illuminated the Panamanian night sky.
• To the vibe from a mainly young population and melting-pot of races that aroused my visual senses. 
• To the Panamanian reggaeton music blasting through the roof of the bus that I was riding in. 
• To the chaotic driver of the of the "Diablos rojos" (red devils) school buses zooming through the rush hour traffic, tall and proud and not the least intimidated by the SUVs that they were surrounded with. 
• To the contrast of second or even third hand school buses still being used as city buses racing through a up-and-coming modern city in full puberty growth.
• To the charming Columbian whom explained to me about the Panamanian reggaeton music with such passion and about Panama City with feverish fervor. His enthusiasm, combined with my sudden awakening, together we were riding an intangible but very real tide of electric vibration.
• To the owner of the hostal whom made sure I tasted everything Panamanian before I leave: beer, "natural herb" and men by bringing me to the beautiful dock by the lakeside where the yachts are parked :D

All the above combined became the perfect concoction to tingle my senses and reach deep within to arouse me from the hard-to shake apathy that I was inevitably slipping in.

I must share: This is the song that I was listening to on the bus when I experienced my awakening.
(Disclaimer: The author of the blog cannot be held liable for listeners whom are not able to experience the same emotions as advertised)

Amazingly, with just a day in Panama City, I fell in love with the energy in the air. It's electric, full of beautiful people. I have never witness such a mix that made me turn around every corner, with an undeniable attraction to experience more, to live more, to want more. The music, combined with the energy of the Panamanians, reached deep within me and drew my soul back to action.

Panama City, a young and vibrant city with a skyline that resembles a mini Manhattan with no signs of stopping, and filled with the most beautiful mixture of people that I have ever seen. Black, brown, coffee, coffee-caramel, indigenous and yellow! They are not just living together, they are blended and well-mixed thanks to all the foreign workers required to build the Canal. My eyes were fixed, for the first time in a long time, more on men than on women! A highschool boy stepped on the bus: dark coffee skinned paired with clear gray-brown eyes that have the capacity to pierce through the doors of the women's souls. Beware, here comes the male version of medusa... And some beautiful mix of yellow, coffee and black, beautiful mestizos that roam the streets!

Finally, yet reluctantly, on board for my flight to South America. After an extensive travelling time, the fact of taking a flight to a world famous destination re-triggered that excited giggly child in me as I arrive in Lima, Peru.

To be continued...

Running against time: A race towards Panama

Under the Waterfalls! Parque Nacional: Rincon de la Vieja

Lago Atitlan, Guatemala

First time ever on my trip that I had a time constraint: race toward the flight that I booked from Panama to Peru to meet my dear Samantha in Argentina! I had a month to go from Guatemala down to Panama, crossing through El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama while trying to visit every country a lil bit before... a daunting task for someone who took about 6 months to visit 3 countries!


The race begins by first leaving Xela on Oct.22. On my way back to Guate City, I had to visit the famous Laguna Atitlan. Paid a visit to the usual suspects from Casa Argentina in San Pedro La Laguna. Spent 5 days vedging on the hamac and having the boys cook for me, as I was striken by some kind of infection again... Once recovered, we went kayaking across the Laguna in 3 teams: 2 Argentinians, 2 Japanese, and the German team (the German and German-speaking me!). We were blessed with a beautiful day and the view is just aboslutely gorgeous! All teams were quite balanced except for the Japanese team, composed of a guy and a girl. The Jap girl was dressed like a city model, with Uggs-like boot, black leggins, jean shorts, fluffy white-t, and a set of sunglasses big enough to cover half her face, in a weather that is arounc 25C. Let's just say, everytime we look back, I saw a clown dabbling at the water and her partner in the back paddling for two... it was a sight to behold. I am crippled with laughter as I recall the poor Jap !! LOL


After San Pedro La Laguna, I headed towards Panajachel and Sololá. In Pana, had the best black chocolate in Latin America! ... made by an Italian :) Caught up with an Hondurenean street artist whom I met in Casa Argentina, and another artist whom I met in Honduras, both working in Pana. Took a trip to the market day in nearby Sololá and took some great fotos of the traditional trajes. The men from this city has one of the most elaborate clothes! The highlight of my trip was tasting iguana in tomato sauce :D Quite yummy, with skin included!

Finally a quick visit to my friends in Guatemala City, had some fiambre (rojo y blanco), which is the traditional food eaten on the day of the death, Nov.1st. It consists of a cold plate full of marinated vegetables, meat, sausages and egg. I was then tempted by the stories of other delicious food from Guatemala, but only if I come back and visit them over Christmas :(  But since the race is on, I was off to El Salvador.

San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador, did not have much to offer in terms of sights, it was even quite dangerous in many parts of the city. However, the market food was definitely more varied than that of Guatemala, which was a delight! And I had the long-awaited pupusas and tamales dulces! Albeit I was there only for 2 days, the few people I have met have left an ever-lasting impression on the famous friendliness of Salvadoreans.

• On the bus ride, I chatted up with a Salvadorean, working in government funded micro-financing, whom left me his phone number in case I come back to the city so he can show me around.
• At the "Ximena's Guest House" in which I stayed, the employee, Alfredo, who attended the desk was extremely helpful giving me all the tips regarding the city and we spent 2 nights chatting and sharing stories, and of course, pupusas :) It still amazes me sometimes how fast can two beings relate and bond. I really liked his energy and his vibe. Thanks to his company, San Salvador was definitely memorable and made me want to revisit!
• Then comes the shop owner of the pupuseria! I knocked on the door the 2nd night in a row, however to find it closed. They opened to told me that they've finished all there is to serve and to come back the next day. However, I pleaded with them as I was to leave El Salvador early morning and wanted to have my last pupusas. Finally they decided to re-open for me and while I waited, the girl spoke to me about her dad's music band that plays Cumbia. Since I've never heard of it, she took out a CD of her father's band and handed it over. Not only did they re-open to serve me food that costed a little over $1, I was gifted a music CD to remember!
• Then there was this lady...  whom approached me at the hopping mall and talked me into giving her some money due to some unforseen circumstance of hers. Long story short, I fell for her story, although the more I thought about it, the faker her acting was... let it be an experience to learn from :D

I left El Salvador in hurry, a little sad to leave Alfredo but decided not to dwell on it as one must keep going, such is the path I have chosen. Onward to Nicaragua, in search of the beautiful serene island of Corn Island.

Managua, capital of Nicaragua, was not a pretty sight. I do not recall how many times I was warned about the dangers of walking alone, or even accompanied in parts of the city. Robberies abound whether on the streets or by taxi drivers... really made me felt uneasy, however I managed to pass a day in the city without incident. Was even approached and chatted up by a helpful Nicaraguense to show me the road and shared me his life story of how he came to discover... guess who? God :D  Albeit it isn't my favorite topic, he had lived a hard life. Thus listening to his recovery, having gone through drug gangs, in and out of jail, was definitely heart-warming.

Little did I know that the search for this island on the Carribean coast of Nicaragua was about to be a hectic experience. I had chosen to skip several "must-see" cities in Nicaragua in exchange for the island due to the time constraint. So off I went on one of the longuest, and hardest trips to head to the coast.

Itiniary:

• Overnight bus: Managua to El Rama. 9:30pm - 3:30am (6hrs) with the bus driver pumping pop music all night long
• Panga (canoe armed with engine): El Rama to Bluefields. 6am - 7:45am (1h45)
• Panga: Bluefields to Bluff. 15min ride
• Cargo boat: Bluff to Big Corn Island: 5.5 hrs
• Panga: Big Corn Island to Small Corn Island: 1hr of INSANE ROLLER COASTER RIDE

IDEALLY and THEORETICALLY, the trip takes about a full day to accomplish. But then again, I was in Nicaragua and to the mercy of nature. I had planned, since Guatemala, to take the Cargo Boat that only leaves once a week on Sunday instead of the passenger boat to Corn Island thanks to a tip from a friend. What happened? The boat kept on being delayed and delayed... we, a group of travellers that kept me sane, waited 4 days and 3 nights for the cargo boat. We literally waited in front of the dock from morning till dusk, moved to the hotel, slept, came back to the dock in the morning, wash, rinse, repeat for 4 days!!!!!  The boat did not arrive due to the weather condition... Had we known, we would have flown, like most of the folks that arrive at the island!! The best part is, we were stuck on this island called "Bluff". I kid you not. The whole thing seemed like a bluff to keep visitors on the island to help the local economy?!?

The Cargo boat that brought us to the island was turbulent enough to made one of our friend sick, along with one of the pig that was travelling with us (it is after all, a cargo boat), leaving some remenant semi-.digested food on my friend's backpack. Fun.

The long awaited boat ride with my 2 travel companions:
Jason and the vomiting pig

In comparison, the last Panga that brought us from Big Corn to Small Corn was a pure roller coaster ride!! The canoe was made of pure wood, and bounced like no tomorrow with any wave that passed by. Seated up in the front, I bounced and flew out of my seat at every second wave, it left me gripping to the front and back seat, hoping that the piece of wood (front seat), would not fly off with me! At one point, I even felt 1G? I don't know but it got my heart falling like the roller coaster, except worse cuz the itiniary is not defined... quite the adrenaline rush!! Probably 2nd to my almost drowning experience in the river in Honduras!

Little Corn Island: Was it worth the agonizing wait? I'd say yes. It is a beautiful island that haven't been over-run by tourists and with no cars, leaving the island quiet and undisturbed. We ate very well, bathed in the crystal clear carribean water, and dived :) Out of the 4 dives, the last one at Shark's Hole made it all worth it. The weather was cooperating and the water completely still. We headed out on a semi-open cave dive site and I saw, the most amazing sight, worthy of Discovery Channel. We arrived at an open cave location and saw a nurse shark resting at the bottom and with thousands of tiny fishes swimming in unison like that of a whirlwind! Swishing from left to right, and then like a spiral spinning up towards the opening where the light shines through to the cave, lighting up every inch of the crystal clear water. What a breathtaking sight! Living it, seeing it with my own eyes... WAOW. The whole trip was worth that moment! (Looks like this, but with the nurse shark resting at the bottom, and the fish swimming in a spiral shape :) )

Finally it was time to say goodbye to the island. I happily bid goodbye and dreaded toward my return trip towards Managua, hoping that this time it'll turn out okay and thankfully it did! The water was so calm, the trip was done indeed in one day, long but tolerable.


On the last segment of bus ride towards Managua, the seat beside me on the night bus was left empty. At around 10pm, a man got on and poured his soul and his life story to me. To my astonishment, he just wanted to share without trying to pick me up (for once!). Full of energy, positivism about life, at a bare 23 y.o. he owns his own cheese and cream making factory and distribution along with 2 partners, and has an absolutely positive outlook on life and great morals. A very uplifting story to hear :)

Finally arriving at the border of Nicaragua, about to cross into Costa Rica. Met an middle-aged man, who was aboslutely interested in showing me Nicaragua, as I was on the verge of leaving the coutry. Left me 2 phone numbers of Nicaragua, and 2 other numbers of his daughter in Miami, and gave me a crocodile tooth so I won't forget him! Later wrote me a love email?! What is it with Nicaraguense? They are really direct when they want something, and definitely like to share their life stories. Whatever propelled them to do that with me, perhaps the fact to share how life can be quite difficult but yet they make it quite well, and are happy that visitors come from all over the globe to see their humble country. That'll be my take on it.

Beef Soup in Costa Rica

Rattlesnake found on the side
of the street!

Costa Rica, the pearl of Central America in terms of natural paradise? I cannot say with certainty as I was racing by... Stayed in Liberia and visited 2 national parcs: Santa Rosa and Rincón de la Vieja. Actually, the highlight of the visit wasn't the nature itself, as it feels like I did not choose the best spot to visit, but rather the encounter of a couple, Pat & Joe, whom have made my trip a lot more interesting! I decided to defy the system of tourism and bus my way into the Parcs (instead of booking tours costing $20-40US just for the transportation), which often requires 2-3 hours of walk until I get to the park's entrance. I hitch-hiked and was lucky to be picked up by Pat & Joe, a Mexican and American couple who are travelling through Costa Rica on their honeymoon. Thanks to them, I was able to see parts of Costa Rica that I wouldn't usually be able to reach by public transportation!! (Yes I bumped into them again inside the park on the 2nd day, thus a 2nd lift) i.e. Rattlesnake! (I have a wonderful pic of it!! give me one week to post it!)

Pretty nifty! I went to the parks without any expectations, even to the point of not being able to get into the park as it would have taken me all day to walk to the entrance, but after all, it all turned out quite perfectly :) Made some friendly faces, an invite to L.A., and defy my own stress of living the unplanned route. (It caused me so much agony the night before, lol)

Sum up: Met two really friendly Ticos (people from Costa Rica) from the internet café in Liberia who went out of their way to help me with bus schedules and recommendations of the area. The only bad thing about Liberia is that I left with 8 bites on arms that, later my taxi driver told me, were from bed ants (some kind of hormigas negras). All 8 of them swell so much to gave me a disproportionate arm size :(   Yay, joy of travelling!

Next: Race towards Panama, but it deserves a post on its own...

Quetzaltenango (Xela) - life in "Casa Argentina"

(Repost with pics updated!!!)

Continuing my stay in Guatemala, after my hitch-hiking adventure, I've decided to stay in Quetzaltenango, better known as Xela (Altitude: 2450m) to pursue my Spanish lessons. I was lucky enough to have met a fantastic Spanish teacher and the hostal that I stayed in were full of Argentinians, Hondureneans, Guatemalans and Spanish folks, couldn't have been a better place to learn the language! Given that I arrived during the raining season, it really was the perfect time to sink into the books as everything around me is soaked :)  (They are really not kidding about rain-season!!!)

When I first arrived at Casa Argentina, I knew right away it would be a place I can call home for several weeks. I was spending time with a group of 4 ppl (Argentinian, Mexican, Uruguayan, American) where everynight we would watch a movie (in Spanish of course!) projected on the wall of the dorm. Note to self: always travel with a projector! and we would often cook together as well. We had a convivial time together! For the amount of time I stayed there, I kept seeing groups come and go, but for the ones that stayed, we always hung out together. My semi-usual company were 2 Argentinians, a German, a Guatemalan, a Spanish and an American. Yes, they were all guys! Not that I had anything against girls, but for some reason, Casa Argentina had a very uneven ratio of men-women of 8-1? or was it 10-to-1! Needless to say that, I was being chatted up with the groups of guys that come to the Casa (especially the nomad artesanos) every time. This definitely was helpful to my Spanish learning, abeit a bit space-encroaching. Towards the end, albeit I had a room of my own, I felt suffocated, I needed my own space and I needed to get down to sea level, as the altitude, combined with the winter that was arriving was starting to give me headaches several times a week!!

My days in Xela consisted of Spanish lessons, regular visit to the coffee shop for my study, the traditional market for supply of produce as well as to chat up with the Taiwanese owner of a shop! I couldn't believe my eyes the day I saw the Taiwanese stand selling "動物蛋糕" (animal egg cake) in Xela! The owner, Mrs.Ko was a sweetheart and invited me over for lunch one day with the family. I was sooo thrilled to eat taiwanese food after months of tortillas, frijoles and pollo frito!! We ended up spending the rest of the day together at the local feria. Nothing like the meeting of Taiwanese counterparts high up in a mountain city of Guatemala! I also found my supply of soya milk, what a delight!!

*** Did I ever mention that Guatemalans have a national obsession with "pollo frito" (fried chicken)? On the weekends, one can see queues in front of Campero, the guatemalan version of KFC. ***

As part of my daily visit to the coffee shop, I befriended a barrista and encouraged him to make designs on my cappu. Within a month, he was able to produce the following design and told me that he is thinking of opening his own coffee shop instead of working for another! On the day of departure, I even received a souvenir pen from him :) Nothing better than a souvenir that I can use on a daily basis!

And then there's Maria! An indigenous lady, whom sells her woven products weekly at Casa Argentina. By buying from her, it can't get more "fair trade" than that! :) One night, it was raining hard and thundering and Maria, with all her missing teeth, wanted to buy some tortillas for dinner but was afraid to head out alone. I proposed to go with her and she kept on calling me "chula" (meaning pretty lady) and let out yelps of "Dios mios, chula", and performed the sign of the cross, everytime a car zooms past us. Maria, an adorable creature with an astonishing height of about 1,40m, typical of the mayans (tiny!!) And everytime I made a purchase from her, she blessed me over and over for helping her feed her family. When asked to take a picture of her, she scuttles away for over 10 min to arrange her hair, her belt, her clothes and put on her silver earrings for the picture session! A delight to watch her go to and about. From what I can gather, her usual meal consists of a pile of tortillas (usually 8), with salt or pepita (squash seed powder mixed with salt) and sometimes frijoles (beans) and cheese. Let me not get into the dietary dificiency of the Guatemalans... long story short, I was getting desperate to eat home food!!

During the time I was there, I have met a few groups of nomad artesanos. They have always fascinated me as I cannot imagine myself trying to undertake their style of living. Making and selling art in order to survive and to keep traveling. The hardest concept for me to grasp is not the little possessions one has, but rather the ability to live day by day, earning as you go, without a fix job or income. The idea of the so-called job security is so ingrained in my mind that living with so many unpredictable elements seems an intolerable thought. Most certainly it isn't the most economically sound way to live, but then again the fact that they can do it, show how little do we really need to live and be happy. Most of them are also musicians. Art and music, mingled with occasional MJ (about a tenth of the price from home!) is sufficient for them to subsist! One of them, went as far as living solely for the purpose of standing up against all things "Babylonean" (Definition of Babylon: a city devoted to materialism and sensual pleasure) and inciting folks to wake up from the control the Babylon has on all of us. He spoke with feverish passion and devotion to his cause. Talking to him helps one peel away the learned habits and so-called "normal" ways of living that one has adopted after years of living in this materialistic, capitalistic world. A real free-spirit, so pure that one can describe him as a niño (a child). He taught me, shared with me, his concept of life and how to watch the world with the eyes of a child. That is how one will not be fully sucked in by this mass engine of consumerism that we have undertaken.

All beings are a form of energy. Once born, this energy is then covered with the physiological shape given at birth, combined with education, cultural upbringing, etc. we begin pilling up with layers of learnt behaviours that we acquired whether to protect ourself from the dog-eat-dog world or simply as a natural adaptation to the society in which we live in. Memo, my tall Spanish friend, has an ability to sense and to see through that exterior layer when talking to you. Talking with him, feels like one is talking not man to man, rather energy to energy. Yes, this world is unfair, and he has given up all the priviledges that came from his birth country to live the life of a nomad artist, denying all comforts, all luxuries and take it upon himself to spread the awareness of that we need to rise against "Babylon". He has the gift of reaching deep within you and see the energy, that pure form within us and call upon it. As much as I tried to fight him, he managed to break through. However, I am not ready, I don't know what I am waiting for, or what I want yet, but nevertheless, the conversations we've had are not easily forgotten.

For reasons unbeknownst to me, Memo has professed his love to me, a love that is not physical but rather spiritual.  A love from one of the purest being I have met ever met, it was almost all too much too bear, for I am not used to open up so fast to another being, but yet I felt his energy, as strong as ever. What am I afraid of? Afraid that another soul will see through me? Afraid of myself? Afraid to give up all the comforts of my birth right as he has done in order to pursue a life free of guilt and luxury? Afraid to see the truth and having to give up what I own? I see myself facing the same fear that one is hesitant of giving up to understake a year-long journey such as the one I am doing. The same obstacle that I had once faced, but at a different level...

On another hand, I am rather flattered to be appreciated by such a pure soul, however, I cannot profess that I am as pure as him. What I really like to understand and feel, is what exactly is he able to sense. His keen sense of feeling, detecting the vibe of others, regardless of physical appearance! That gift of his, is beyond my understanding, yet fascinates me to no end because I cannot grasp it. He later told me, later confirmed with another guy friend of mine, that I emenate some kind of energy (not physical!) that men can sense, and thus explains the approaches of multiple men in my journey!?!? But then again, I thought all women whom travel alone are approached by latino men!! What do I emanate? I want to understand!! Can I turn it off so I get hassled a lot less? Or to avoid the kind of weird man who followed me one day, on the street of Xela, in broad daylight. He approached me and said that there was a guy doing something while watching me, and showed me the hand motion of "masturbation" with his hands. So he said he will accompany me in the meantime. I took very little notice to him as I was in a big hurry to get some errands done. He then kept talking and asked me if I understand what that hand motion mean. I was like er... yeah, and kept walking. Then he keep repeating "quieres conocer el p_____?" (Do you want to get to know the p_____?) I had no clue what that p word was, but guessed that it must have meant what I thought. And then he went on to describe, in Spanish of course, something about between the legs and where the milk comes out!! Qué barbaridad! (What an atrocious thing to say!)

On a happier note, one day I hiked to a nearby hill and met 2 girls playing outside their house: Maria and Ana, 7 and 9 years old respectively. I played played tag with the girls and they then invited me to see their dolls in their house, where I was told the parents weren't home. I hesitated for a moment, but took the chance. The girls showed their dolls, their toys and their room to me. We even played "salon de belleza" (beauty salon), to which the girls braided my hair. The moment the girl took my hair in their hands, I felt a warmth that was long forgotten. It brought me back to the moment when my mom did my hair every day before heading to school in front of the mirror. A glimpse of childhood brought upon by the pure curiosity and love of a child. My heart broke and I was so close to tears all of a sudden, completely overwhelemed by the sensation I felt. I felt such closeness, affetion without fear, without holding back anything at all. I did not want that moment to end! The feeling was stronger than me. Again and again, I am amazed at what children can do to me! Their love without bounderies and expectations is what touched me the most. The last time I felt as strongly was when I was sick in bed from vomiting throughout the night thanks to an infection. My mom woke up in the middle of the night to care for me with the kind of love and tenderness that only comes from a mother to her sick child. The love the children and that of mom's have completely broke all layers of defense I have ever built, with a single stroke. My heart was overjoyed, my soul touched and my defensive habits released its grip to savour the moments of love and playfullness. So long had I strived fo rindependance, searched for manners of doing everything on my own that, the unconditional love from a mother and the children, touched me like no other. Made me feel like, perhaps I should stop trying to do everything on my own because although we can go on solo, in the long run, we need to love and be loved. Perhaps I am so used to expect the worst and to protect myself from the world, that letting my heart open up, like that of a child or that of my dear friend Memo, is such a hard task to do. Something that should be natural from born was lost and found again, thanks to Maria, Ava, and my dear mom :)

Almost seven weeks later, goal achieved (which is to study Spanish) I was finally ready to say goodbye to Xela. This tops the most amount of time I've ever stayed in my trip thus far. Looking forward to leave Guatemala, although I was not able to see too much of the country for having sacrificed the time on the language, but then again, who said I want to follow the gringo trail to the dot? :D

Guatemala to Mexico and back : my hitch-hiking experience

Ayeeeayyeeee! Apologies for the long wait! For those who wonder, I am safe and sound in Xela (Quetzaltenango, Guatemala) studying Spanish. Which is one of the reason that made me neglect my inner reflection... I agree, it is long due! Soon you will find out why. However, let me start from the events of about month ago. (for more pics, refer to the links on the right under Guatemala)

Laguna Pacaya on top of an inactive volcano, Chiquimula

Out of the blazing heat of Honduras onto the highlands of Guatemala! After my 5 weeks in Honduras, I returned to my Guatemalan family and, as promised, I had the yummiest Tamale (Usually chicken/pork simmered in a tomato sauce held together by a mixture of corn and rice dough cooked in banana leaves)! It was a very pleasant stay as I needed a good and comfy home to come back to, and that is exactly what I received... with an extra spice. Spent a good week with my friend's family and played with the kids. That is when I realized how different it is to interact with kids that have been educated by parents, in comparison to the kids from the orphanage. Finally I do not feel so inadequate! True I was overwhelemed in Santa Barbara with 40+ kids as I felt like it was impossible to please all the children but with 2 kids at a time, the interaction is more pleasant, controlable, maintenable! I am not entirely a lost cause, yay, a good consolation :)

 

Back of a pick-up truck

I took advantage of this comfortable home to plan my next steps until the next unexpected event that propelled me to get out ASAP. For a good week, I stayed at my friend's brother's house. It was a newly built house that is very similar to that of ours in Canada. So similar and comfortable it was, with the comfort of unlimited internet access, watching the late night show and sharing the cultural shocks with my friend (him and I having both lived in North America and now in Guate) that the whole stay felt almost eerie. I was home... but in Guatemala! More home than I would have ever imagined that could happen on this trip! My friend and I hiked, cooked, watched tv together and shared stories. Until I started to feel a different vibe. My friend has interpreted this friendly bonding experience as something else. I felt frozen with fear as he leaned over my bed one night before bedtime when we were both alone in the house. Looking back, I am greatful that some men have good self-control over their emotions and have a sound moral to respect a refusal. Needless to say that I had a very troubled sleep that night...

The next morning, I knew I had to leave asap. Onwards to a travel that is free of obligations or expectations, which was the reason for my travel. I needed healing time and the journey to Chiquimula to visit the lake on top of the volcano Ipala provided exactly the kind of freedom that I desired, my own space, with no one to respond to. It took me a little over a month to heal from this intrusion into my personal space. I am amazed at how long it took me to heal despite the lack of physical contact. Removal from the element of cause, create a zone of comfort, self-retract into shell for protection, go through the motions of life in denial that it happened, finally reflect and accept. This sheds light onto what a real traumatic experience can take a toll on a human being.

During my hike to volcano Ipala, a Guatemalan has approached me and informed me that the hike up is dangerous for a lone girl and proposed to accompany me (at this point, I had so much conflicting information with regards to the safety of the hike that I relented). We started the climb, ever so slowly as my company needed a break every 5 min. When we finally reached the beginning of the real hike (in the woods), he sat down and told me he was thirsty and tired. He then took out a flask of some transparent alcoholic beverage, and emptied it in one shot and threw the empty flask into the grass. Here I am, in the middle of the mountain, with no one in sight except for my drunk companion continuing telling me stories of tourists being robbed or worst. I looked up and down the path, weighting my options with this man and my own safety. That is when he started to tell me that I like you, you're a nice pretty girl. One never knows in Latin America when they really mean it or not, or I am never sure due to the subtleties of the language. However, that was the last drop of discomfort I could withstand as it ignited the fear factor in me and I ran down the hill, fearing for my dear life, never dared to look back.

As I arrived to the sight of a house, one of the three talking men asked me if I have already seen the laguna. I described them my experience and he actually told me not to worry, that the man is harmless and offered to accompany me past the drunkard. What a relief! It turned out that the poor fellow has obvious drinking problems and was trying to befriend me by giving me compliments and earn some tip by accompanying me on a hike that he was not able to physically carry out.

Angel and I in the back of a pick-up truck

Trying not to fall off in the
back of the truck

Forward the days to my first latin-american hitch-hike experience. I met a Spanish guy who has covered all of his distance in Central America, for a period of 3 months, solely on hitch-hiking! His stories spontaneously reinitiated the adventure in me. We hitch-hiked, hiked, traveled together for about a week. He taught me tricks of the trade as well as Spanish and in return, I taught him English. I was a bit skeptical about this method of traveling, however it turned out to be a wonderful experience. We connected more with the locals, heard their stories, shared a lot of good time in the front/back of the pick-ups. Rain or shine, travelers do not stop! We were banged around in the back of a truck once and almost got bounced out from the back door! Another time, as there were only enough space for one person in the front seat, I stayed in the truck and inhaled some fume due to malfunction of the car (our driver could not stop the engine otherwise he couldn't start it). During one of our breaks, waiting for our next ride, a young girl generously offered us a drink and offered us a place to stay if we ended up stranded without ride out of town. Meanwhile, she shared with us her story of being an illegal migrant who left at the age of 15 from her hometown, alone in search of work in the US by road. The story was heart-breaking, valiant, filled with determination and motivation driven by poverty. I looked upon the face of a pretty face, albeit young she carried a well-worn expression, one that has lived way more than her 21 years of age. Experiences such as this one, is something that is not easily accessible when one follows the "gringo trail" (gringo is a rather derogatery term used in Latin America for white Americans, and sometimes expands to all white travelers).

Todos Santos, Guatemala

Angel and I hitched about a total of 18 rides together. We traveled to Todos Santos, a small village in the north of Guatemala, at around 2500-3000m altitude. One of the most peaceful village I have been to. The scenery is one of lush green and serenity. The local Mayans speak "Mam" and Spanish and is one of the few Guatemalan indigenous Mayan village that men still wear the traditional "traje" (dress). We hiked on non-rainy days and stayed and lived and ate with an indigenous family. One one of our hike, we encountered an old man, who was hiking up the mountain at a steady pace without rest. We greeted him the usual "Buenos Díaz" as it is custom to do in all of Guatemala (Guatemalans are very polite, friendly and helpful in general), and asked him his age: 70. Amazing! He is definitely more fit than we both were as we had to rest...

The Guatemalans of my home-stay speaking "Mam" :) Enjoy!

Once we reached on top of one of the hill, I kindly asked to use the ladies room and were greeted with a warm welcome. A lady with her 4 kids enjoyed the attention and the picture taking. Not all of the folks dislike camera, however the majority still do not appreciate picture taking, as they do believe that cameras steal pieces of their soul away with every shot.

We hitched again onward to Lagos Montebellos (Mexico), which is a group of around 56 lakes on the border of Mexico/Guatemala. For me it was a visa run as well as accompanying my friend Angel on our hitch-hike journey. The lakes are beautiful, pristine and little visited by foreign tourists. It was not difficult to find a lake all to ourselves for bathing! The water was rather nippy but clean clean clean!! Qué ricoooo!!

It was time to part ways as Angel was headed further into Mexico and I, back to Guatemala. After we parted ways, I decided to continue the hitch-hike solo as I really enjoyed it and needed to experience it solo. Every time I put my thumb out, my heart tensed. I made my way back to Xela (Quetzaltenango) with 7 rides and 1 bus ride, safe and sound. Some people really would get out of their way to drive us to our destination and purely enjoy the company of another traveler on long journeys. My last ride even invited me for lunch, to which I cannot refuse as it is impolite to refuse an offer from a host, and even more so from a man in Guatemala! Mom, if you're reading this, I'm safe and sound! Mexico and Guatemala are not countries known with security, however, I want to have faith in the people. Most people are really fantastic and friendly. Those who give a lending hand, are usually those who do not have a lot and understand the difficulty of traveling/living with little dough. Not a single "car" had stopped to pick us up, only pick-ups, trucks and sometime SUVs.

On my way out of Honduras

After leaving the kids, I made my way out of Honduras stopping by Santa Rosa de Copán (pics below), an untouristed city with great locally grown and brewed coffee and frappuchino (surprise, surprise, here they have another name for it: "granita") and Copán, the famous city where lies one of the most famous Mayan ruins. Santa Rosa de Copán has very little to offer to the tourists, but nonetheless, I met some friendly people and witness how orange is sold on the streets! One chooses an orange, hands it over to the vendor who sets it on a look-like pencil sharpener tool but instead it peeles the orange peel just enough for easy hand peeling afterwards. Although he still sliced the orange in half with his knife, to which I stared with foreboding, as the last time I ate fresh fruit from the streets left me on the toilet for an unwanted period of time... but good thing I got lucky or I've grown enough immunity, only the universe knows :D

Copán, a beautiful quiet little town on the border of Honduras/Guatemala. Probably the most beautiful place in Honduras, thanks to the development of tourists (without being over-run), and yet retains the local character of the city. As famous as the ruins were, I prefer to visited the "vivo" (life) than the "muerte" (death), thus I ended up visiting a beautiful nature reserve where birds of all kinds, particularly parrots and macaws, are rescued from illegal trade or mis-treated owners.

Left: Toucan, Middle: two type of Macaws, Far right: Scarlet Macaw posing for me!

The hotel owner were a great bunch! Here is another local cutie munching (or rather smashing) a piece of blush-pink dragon fruit from the mountain ! I got a taste of it as well, gratuity of the owner, Amora.

G'bye to the blazing heat of Honduras and onwards to the high altitude climate of Guatemala...