South of the Border: Santa Cruz Laguna
Ever since I went to Colombia, a door to Latin America was opened. I've been to Cuzco and now it's Guatemala's turn. Antigua always seemed to me like the most romantic place when I was younger, now that I've been to Cartagena it might get tough to decide for either.
I finally arrived to Lake Atitlán, took a boat ride to the hotel. Looking back to this experience brings back other memories of my own countryside. I guess it's like traveling from New Orleans to Texas and discovering the little nuisances that make each place different than the other.
I arrived to Guatemala City at 2pm. No wifi at the airport but through the most traditional sense I got directions from the INGUAT, or tourism office. I had to resolve things quickly or get stranded in Antigua or worst case scenario, in Guatemala. A shuttle from the hotel was supposed to pick me up at 4, but in a Latam fashion, I was offered a ride twice the price of what I had settled for in the first place. I quickly arranged for another shuttle and hopped in.
For 45 minutes I chatted away with a fellow Mexican and was unable to see the small details of Guatemala city. By the time we got to Antigua, thanks to a guy I called Speedy Gonzáles, I had to hop out and then into another shuttle to Panajachel. We were in a hurry because the last boat ride to any place in the lake leaves at 7 p.m.
It is on this ride where 8 of us moved from left to right, up and down, front and back to the staggering speed these little white vans zoom on a two and a half hour ride. This could be any town in Mexico. Yet, little things make it so similar and then again, not so much. The signs of the shops are adorable, they have always made me smile. Pinchazo is a flat tire, in Mexico we call the Vulcanizadoras, but here, they have that beautiful name that is almost like an endearing onomatopeya. Political campaign ads cover the city just like our little towns through Mexico. Same silly short phrases, like: "What you see is what you can prove" or "With the people of the "pueblo' or town, you don't fool around". Really? Do they cut politicians with the same scissors in Latin America?
The similarities include poor people walking by the sides of the road, unprotected, so vulnerable. Small kids taken on top of a cart by a skinny father going back from work. Younger children coming back from public school on the freeway while wheezing and colourful collective trucks pass us by, defying any sense of speed limit.
The small towns have papelerías or small shops where you buy limited stationery, fresh baked bread, tortillas, a house where you can get some battery if the one in your car dies. My shuttle companion is a japanese girl. For almost three hours she was either asleep or at her cell phone. She seemed like a Thai princess too disgusted to look around, dismissing huge clouds and a kids band practice.
Shuttle halted and we all moved forward. We jumped quickly into a boat. A hindi woman almost cracked her skull while getting in the boat. Because here, like in any Latin American town, safety regulations are well, absent?
It's late and I'm being fed vegan food. It tastes amazing and I hope it's not because I was really hungry. On the other side of the lake big thunders light the night. The sound of waves will lull me to sleep, I'll probably dream about becoming a mermaid as I swim with an fluorescent underwater quetzal singing in a mayan tongue.
I finally arrived to Lake Atitlán, took a boat ride to the hotel. Looking back to this experience brings back other memories of my own countryside. I guess it's like traveling from New Orleans to Texas and discovering the little nuisances that make each place different than the other.
I arrived to Guatemala City at 2pm. No wifi at the airport but through the most traditional sense I got directions from the INGUAT, or tourism office. I had to resolve things quickly or get stranded in Antigua or worst case scenario, in Guatemala. A shuttle from the hotel was supposed to pick me up at 4, but in a Latam fashion, I was offered a ride twice the price of what I had settled for in the first place. I quickly arranged for another shuttle and hopped in.
For 45 minutes I chatted away with a fellow Mexican and was unable to see the small details of Guatemala city. By the time we got to Antigua, thanks to a guy I called Speedy Gonzáles, I had to hop out and then into another shuttle to Panajachel. We were in a hurry because the last boat ride to any place in the lake leaves at 7 p.m.
It is on this ride where 8 of us moved from left to right, up and down, front and back to the staggering speed these little white vans zoom on a two and a half hour ride. This could be any town in Mexico. Yet, little things make it so similar and then again, not so much. The signs of the shops are adorable, they have always made me smile. Pinchazo is a flat tire, in Mexico we call the Vulcanizadoras, but here, they have that beautiful name that is almost like an endearing onomatopeya. Political campaign ads cover the city just like our little towns through Mexico. Same silly short phrases, like: "What you see is what you can prove" or "With the people of the "pueblo' or town, you don't fool around". Really? Do they cut politicians with the same scissors in Latin America?
The similarities include poor people walking by the sides of the road, unprotected, so vulnerable. Small kids taken on top of a cart by a skinny father going back from work. Younger children coming back from public school on the freeway while wheezing and colourful collective trucks pass us by, defying any sense of speed limit.
The small towns have papelerías or small shops where you buy limited stationery, fresh baked bread, tortillas, a house where you can get some battery if the one in your car dies. My shuttle companion is a japanese girl. For almost three hours she was either asleep or at her cell phone. She seemed like a Thai princess too disgusted to look around, dismissing huge clouds and a kids band practice.
It's late and I'm being fed vegan food. It tastes amazing and I hope it's not because I was really hungry. On the other side of the lake big thunders light the night. The sound of waves will lull me to sleep, I'll probably dream about becoming a mermaid as I swim with an fluorescent underwater quetzal singing in a mayan tongue.
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