January 6, 2015

Today's plan - to see some of the other villages at Lake Atitlan. Since arriving here in Santiago Atitlan, I have learned that transportation to other areas is limited. However, the public luncha goes to a village called San Pedro and from there by tuk-tuk one can get to San Juan Laguna, so that was my plan.

I forgot to write in yesterday's story that the second time I was walking to Maximon's house this older man (74) was walking up the street by me and asked me if I wanted to see Maximon. I told him I already had and I was going back for a party. He was missing a few teeth, wearing sunglasses, and sort of a character. He kept walking with me and told me he was a shaman/healer. He told me when a person was hurt or had pain he would suck on that part of the person's body for healing. He may have told me some other bizarre things, but I couldn't understand much more. When I was talking to the women yesterday outside Maximon's house and told them he said he was a shaman, they told me he was not a shaman, but he worked as some kind of tour guide. I saw him this morning and he directed me to the boat to San Pedro.

Other people had already boarded, but we sat …and sat… and sat. Finally after about half an hour and some more people, the boat departed for the 20-30 minute ride. We disembarked in a rather uninteresting area (much later learning that the boats from Panajachel land right in the heart of San Pedro). I walked and saw a street that sort of looked interesting. As I walked I then saw many little hotels, signs for Spanish language schools, and some small cafes. I visited a small museum about the history of the lake and the volcanoes. I had seen a large church high up on a hill so thought I should go there, usually because it is in the town center. After a very steep climb, I got there. It was not the Catholic church, but a protestant religious center and church. I walked down another street and heard some drums and singing. No tourists anywhere (and this town was written up as being very attractive to backpackers).

What I found with the music was a group of people clustered in a driveway heading into a large open field surrounded by buildings. On one side was a group of what appeared to be alter boys all dressed in white. On another side was a large room, with children and adults singing at one end (and the music included the occasional Christmas carol), a large center table with a number of identical objects, I think the picture perhaps of Jesus in the midst of multi-colored decorations, and the rest of the room filled up with people, some in Mayan clothing, some not. Outside and inside there were men passing and collecting these brown ceramic cups with some kind of liquid. The drum player was outside. When I asked I was told this for the Festival of the Kings Day, that there would be a procession in a few minutes, and that there would be a party in the evening. So I decided to hang around and watch and take pictures as I could. I sat on a bench and some young man procured one of the ceramic cups with the liquid everyone was drinking for me. It tasted thick and sort of spicy and like there was a lot of alcohol in it. I was told it was traditional, made from corn, and had no alcohol. I didn't really like it, so they took the cup from me to finish it. (My research indicates that what I was offered was either a fermented corn beer chicha de jora or non-alcoholic beverage such as chicha morada - my money is on the fermented product) .The singing ended and men went over and picked up the objects on the table and thus began the procession. I watched for a few minutes as they went out in the street. Some onlookers approached the men carrying the objects and made some kind of offering, not sure if it was money. I did not know where they were going or how long it would last so separated and went back another way and found a tuk-tuk to take me to San Juan.

The tuk-tuk had to go up sort of a small mountain. The roads are not great and being in one of these vehicles really amplifies every hole, rock, change in surface imaginable. The ride seemed pretty rough when the driver pulled over - seems we had a flat tire. Fortunately had had an extra tire. I asked if I could help and he wanted me to pick the tuk-tuk up and hold it while he changed the tire. No way was that going to happen. So he also had a big piece of wood that functioned as a jack which he should have taken out in the first place. I told him I had not been to San Juan so drop me off in the center and that he did - in the center of a totally non-descript area of this village on a corner. I started walking and after a couple of blocks saw a few N. American English speaking people who directed me to the small area where the shops and galleries are. There was some really beautiful weaving, not like that in the museum the day before but really beautiful textiles which had no folk art appearance to them at all. There were several artists' cooperatives up and down the street, the first I had really seen. I bought one pair of earrings, very unusual, made from parts of flowers. There were two other places I had hoped to go to in San Juan - made it to one, not the other. The first was the coffee collective, a fair trade organization. The woman from whom I bought the earrings actually had a map of San Juan and showed me where it was, not so far. Well, it was not so far, but much further than the map made it appear. I had to stop and ask for directions several times. Fortunately the last person I asked worked there and walked with me to the collective. I had no interest in a tour. I saw coffee beans drying, went to the little café and spoke with a man named Lucas who is the café man/salesman and had a cappuccino. He told me they only have one grade of coffee and do export to the U.S. There was a package there for Taylor Maid Farms in Sonoma County and their own name brand. I bought a pound and left. I knew I needed to get back to San Pedro so as not to miss the last boat, presumably at 4 PM. I found a tuk tuk with the driver actually giving me a fair price and we set off. We passed the second place I had wanted to go with is this restaurant with gourmet cheeses and coffee. It has no address listed so I didn't know where it was - well it was about two blocks from the coffee collective.

I told the driver I wanted to go the lunchas (the boats) and he drove me through a part of San Pedro I had never seen which had streets with lots of little shops and cafes, very charming. Well he took me to the lunchas for Panajachel on the other side of the lake. When I realized the error he was more than accommodating to get me to where I needed to be and as we drove I realized it was pretty far, probably at least a mile from the main part of San Pedro. I got there and saw the water was sort of rough washing over the dock. There were a couple of men sitting on plastic chairs in front of a tiendas (sort of a convenience store). As usual we waited and waited and gradually a few more people came and after about 40 minutes of sitting there we boarded the boat, sort of by jumping from the wet dock onto the boat that was going up and down in the water. To their credit, the boats have life jackets. All of the Guatemalans on the boat (everyone else but me) reached up to where they were stored overhead and took one down and held it. This did not make me feel too secure. I took mine and actually put it on for the ride. No one got sick, no one went overboard, and I just focused as best I could on keeping my eyes glued to one point on top of a volcano ahead of us (when the sombrero of the man in front of me whose head was bobbing up and down was not in the way.) There were whitecaps in the water and the boat hit some waves head on pretty hard, but we made it back with no disasters.

I decided to walk up the main street again, check out Santiago in the evening. As I approached the central square, I heard music. There was a small band with a man playing the electric piano, and he was singing with two women. There were some other women similarly dressed as the singers and a small crowd of people singing and clapping their hands. I could not understand the words at all, I stayed for a few minutes and watched and listened and then walked on. I was not far from Maximon's house so decided to go and see what was happening with the party. While not dangerous, the street between the church and his house seemed the several times I was walking there to have its share of alcoholics - a few asleep in the street, a few staggering down the street. When I got to Maximon's, there was more of a party than the day before. The band was playing, The men in the yard behind were still mostly lying in the dirt, although as I looked out, one was urinating on the wall about a foot away from me. In the room with Maximon, however, were a few older Mayan women and the same men who I guess are Maximon's guardians. There were three women holding hands and dancing sort of a two-step. When I came in and said hi, they broke up - two with each other and the third with me. For the next song, the woman I had been told the day before was the chief of the women danced with me. No one looked happy and not much sense of rhythm, just back and forth with the two step. When that was over I asked why the women didn't dance with the men. No response as these women didn't speak Spanish. There were a couple of probably teenage girls there also who do not dance at all. One of the men I had met the day before, I think one of Maximon's guardians, offered to dance with me. He had some Latin rhythm. We danced one dance and then another man came up and gave me a cup of beer. I took a couple of sips and then decided I did not want to overstay my welcome. The people across the walkway were watching the whole thing through the window, and the man with the bad heart disease offered to take my picture.

So off I went. About a block away was a restaurant, El Pescador, supposed to be one of the best in Santiago, so I went in and ate dinner there. It was good, black bass fillet with fresh vegetables, yellow rice, and guacamole. After dinner, I found a tuk-tuk and back to the hotel for some sleep.