January 7, 2015

After pancakes for breakfast, I had hoped to talk with Lydia, the English speaking woman who had been so helpful in arranging for Leonardo about my plans for the dat. I was told she would be at the hotel in about 30 minutes (at 9 AM) so I ate sat in the dining room/lobby. Time passed and no Lydia. I asked again and was now told she was not coming in due to some personal problems by the same man who knew I was waiting for her. I was not happy about this so tried to discuss with him the best way to get to Panajachel as I thought I could get a shuttle boat more easily there to one of the other villages. I knew the boats left when they were full and was concerned that I had wasted all that time waiting for Lydia. He called someone and found out the boat only had 5 people so was not ready to leave. He called for a tuk-tuk and told me it would be at the hotel in 5 minutes. I walked out to the hotel entrance to wait - not tuk tuk came so I started walking and finally just flagged one down to take me. I got to the boat and boarded. I sat there for about ½ hour and by then the boat had 15 people. The two men behind me were impatient as they had been waiting an hour. I, however, being the brazen American woman that I am, asked the driver when the boat would leave and was told he needed 9 more people. That could take hours. I thought for a few quick seconds and decided although it would cost me a lot of money that getting a private boat was my best choice. So I got up and in Spanish told the driver I was leaving and now he would need 10 people.

I saw my friend, the "shamen aka guide" and asked him where the private boats were. He escorted me over to the next dock. I was able to hire a boat essentially for the day to take me to three villages and return me to Santiago Atitilan. So I set off with Diego, the son of the man with whom I had negotiated. The lake was calmer than it had been the afternoon before. We crossed the lake in about 25 minutes with first stop at Santa Caterina Palopo. Most of the 5000 residents of the town are indigenous, descending from the Kaqchikel Maya. Kaqchikel is the most common language spoken in the village, though Spanish is widely understood. Legend has it that Santa Catalina reached Atitlán in the company of San Andrés. However, as she had to wash clothes and carry water, she decided to settle in the lake, while San Andrés went to the top of the mountain. That's how Santa Catarina Palopó emerged and how the Virgin of St. Catherine of Alexandria became its patron. In times past, the main activity for the upkeep of the family was fishing and catch crabs and snails. Fishing has decreased as there are fewer fish to be caught. Crops grown are flowers, onions, corn, and beans. The most important economic activity is the manufacture of fabrics made by women in loom and selling traditional crafts Guatemala. The women are known for their blue huipiles or blouses. I walked up narrow walkways and through the residential areas of the village.

As I walked up the walkway from the boats, some women had textiles for sale, but at each woman's site, she also had a loom and was weaving more fabric. I stopped in some shops on the way to the plaza and imagine my surprise when I saw a handwritten sign on cardboard in Hebrew. I asked the woman in the shop about it and she told me it was Hebrew and was for the tourists.

As I check out the internet while I am working on writing this, I found an article from August 2014 about San Juan where I was yesterday. Apparently six months previously an ultraorthodox group of Jews from Canada, Lev Tahor, were leaving San Juan because they could not reach an agreement with the indigenous people. Verbal abuse, threats to cut off power and eject them by force were the last straw for the Jews who began arriving in March from Canada, where the Lev Tahor group's strict religious ways had clashed with authorities. Founded in the 1980s by Israeli Shlomo Helbrans, the Lev Tahor practice an austere form of Judaism. Winning admiration from some Jews for its devoutness, the group is condemned by others as a cult-like sect. Miguel Vasquez Cholotio, a member of the elders' council, said the villagers decided to expel the group because they refused to greet or have physical contact with the community. "We felt intimidated by them in the streets. We thought they wanted to change our religion and customs," he said. Eschewing technological trappings such as television and computers, daily life among the Lev Tahor, whose women wear body cloaks similar to a burqa, is steeped in religion. Rejecting the state of Israel because it views the Jews as a people in exile, the Lev Tahor hope to find land elsewhere in Guatemala to build 30 houses to resettle the 200-odd strong community.

There is a small plaza at the end of the walkway with some shops selling textile and some other handicrafts and a Catholic church which was locked up. I walked up some streets and climbed stairs on narrow pathways between homes to explore the residential area. There were many small tiendas (convenience stores) along the various walkways. The view from up high was really beautiful on the lake, marred only be many electrical wires going in every which way in spots.

As I was walking back to the boat, I passed this very lovely hotel. There were about four people walkng around, presumably guests. I thought this was a good place to use the facilities (and did). After a brief tour of the grounds, I walked down to the boats, and ate lunch, some fried chicken with tortillas at a restaurant just at the beginning of the boat dock. The restaurant was upstairs and I sat on a bar stool and ate at a table with a beautiful view or the boats and the lake.

I found Diego and the boat, one of about three at the dock, boarded, and proceeded on to San Antonio Palopo . Along the shore I could see many very upscale homes. In researching this part of the trip, I had found an article for ex-pats considering retirement to Guatemala and giving information about as well as the pros and cons of each of the villages around the lake. I guess these homes belonged, at least part, to expats and wealthy Guatemalans.

As I got off the boat in San Antonio, it had a very different feel. There was a very nice concrete boardwalk along the shoreline in front of the part of the village I could see from the dock. There was a much more laid back feel and no vendors out on the walkways. A woman carrying textiles with a school age girl approached me. I told her I didn't want to buy anything, but she indicated she would show me where the ceramics were. This town is well known for its ceramics. True to her word after walking a bit on the boardwalk we did arrive at the place where the ceramics are made. I was able to wander through, saw men handpainting designs on some pieces. The work done primarily in dark blue and white was very pretty. I saw a few custom pieces like a cup for the non-profit Oxfam and a cup with a Jewish star on it. The ceramic pottery is produced by a Mayan cooperative. This group was trained by World Famous Potter, Ken Edwards. The clay in the region is perfect to create these wonderful stoneware mugs and crosses. The Mayan families Ken trained hand paint each piece and all the work is done with kilns, ovens and wheels they built themselves in their small shop.

After the visit to the ceramic studio, she took me out the back and walked with me uphill to the church which is high up overlooking part of the town. There was a great view of the lake from the church. Wednesday is market day, but by the time I got there the market, next to the church, was empty. I walked through narrow passageways past homes and came back down toward the lake. I spoke briefly with a woman who had a loom set up in her little shop. Her son, Oliver, was there. She wanted money from me to help with his education. I told her I could not do that, but she asked for my e-mail so her older son Edgar could write to me.

I passed a health clinic and looked in. There were posters up about maternal and infant health issues and Ebola virus. There weren't any patients there. The clinic is staffed by a nurse. I was able to talk with her. She had one year of training after completing secondary school and had to pass an examination. She provides immunizations and treats basic communicable diseases. There is no doctor in the village. An ambulance (which I later saw) is available for emergencies to take people to the hospital in, I believe, Chimeltenango, which is some distance away and is, I think, that place with the terrible traffic when I went to Chichicastenango. I saw several cooperatives in this village. I stopped in one and learned that it was a cooperative of single women, most with children. I bought a scarf there to help support the woman I had been talking with, Frances, whose husband had died in an accident, and she was trying to support two children. The weaving in this village was quite nice, less folk art, and more nice quality textiles. The cooperative was near the boat dock, so onward with Diego.

We then went to San Lucas Toliman, not a tourist town at all. This town of 17,000, is on the southeastern shore of Lago de Atitlán, described by Aldous Huxley as one of the most beautiful lakes in the world. The population is 90-95% Highland Maya. The area is well known as being the site of the San Lucas Tolimán Mission, overseen by the Roman Catholic Diocese of New Ulm in the city of New Ulm, Minnesota. The Mission was founded 48 years ago by Monsignor Gregory Thomas Schaffer, He was responsible for starting up a series of education, health, and agriculture initiatives, including the granting of 3 acres of land each to 4,000 families, the launch of medical clinics, and the start of a fair-price coffee initiative. I walked up to the church and saw the memorial in front to Msgr. Schaffer. I walked around the town which was quiet with almost none of the shops for tourists. There was some interesting architecture for some of the buildings, some with wooden fronts which I had not seen before. I walked back down to the lake on the other side of the town from where I had walked up. As I approached the lake, there was a quite a sight. All along the shore were women, washing clothes, washing dishes, washing children, washing themselves at the shore line. There were large ridged flat stones in the water used by those washing the clothes. As I got closer to the area where the boat was docked I saw about two men washing in the water. Then I saw women on the doc with large bottles like Sparkletts water bottles scooping water out of the lake to take home - not sure it that was supposed to be drinking water or not. I found Diego and commented on what I had just seen. He pointed across the small bay and told me the main water pump for the town is broken so there is no water in the town. Before we boarded the boat, Diego told me was a photographer, has a Canon camera, and posts his photos on Instagram. He showed me a few in his phone of sunset with clouds over one of the volcanoes - quite pretty. I could not understand all he said, but gathered that he had studied photography at the university.

Diego steered the boat back to Santiago Atitlan and dropped me off at my hotel. I went out to watch the fisherman in little boats as the sun was setting behind the volcano across the bay from the hotel. I met a woman walking, Katie, originally from Boulder, CO. Turns out her husband started the hotel; she told me loves gardening and caring for the grounds. They have a cute little 15 month old daughter that she brought back with her a bit later. I ate dinner at the hotel, tortellini with spinach and gorgonzola cheese sauce, pretty good. I stayed in the dining area for a while to try to get some writing done and then to bed as check-out would be in the morning.