The rain keeps sabotaging everything. Hellllloooow WET season!
Wet season lasts from May to about September/October here in Central America and I´m learning the hard way it´s not messing around. The rain was lovely when it started back in Nicaragua turning Ometepe vibrant green and the Antigua streets shiny for a few convenient hours, but now it´s done nothing but sabatoge my plans and make me really soggy.
Wet season means ¨low¨ season in Central America, therefore a difficult time to find groups for planned outdoor activities. With only 2 people signed up, Quetzeltrekkers canceled the 3 day hike I was so looking forward to from Xela to Atitlan. Then after finally finding a guide willing to take just one person up Volcan San Pedro, I woke up this morning to the strongest downpour since arriving at Lago de Atitlan on Wednesday.
But I took the 7:30 am lancha from San Marcos where I´d been staying to San Pedro anyway, fully optimistic and hopeful the rain would stop by the time it arrived - even though San Pedro is just a 15 minutes boatride away. Nevermind that climbing a steep volcano when it´s wet nevermind raining is not a good idea by any rational standards, I just really wanted to HIKE. Unsurprisingly my guide wasn´t going anywhere.
So instead I have a day to kill in San Pedro La Laguna. Not a terrible place to while (wile?) some time away on a rainy day... getting to know this other pretty town on the laguna, eating lots of freshly made tamales, catching up on emails and some reading. Besides, I love tamales and my room at Hotel Tepepulkan has a good view of the lake, appropriate for my last day here.
Tomorrow I will forget about Volcan San Pedro and visit Chichicastenango´s famous Sunday market instead. I will practice non-attachment, roll with the punches. I´ve been wanting to visit Chichicastenango anyway.
Oh look! The sun is coming out.
POSTSCRIPT(S)
That sun was a momentary hoax. It peeked out then went away again. The rest of the afternoon continued to be heavy with clouds and the portent of more rain to come. I did manage to sneak in two fresh tamales on a street stoop before it returned!
**
My grand accomplishment of the day: finding San Pedro´s used bookstore and getting a new book (did I blog about how my trusty Kindle died when I landed??). Finally finished the copy of ¨The Lost City of Z¨ that Natalie gave me when I left Salinas about the early 20th century explorer Percy Fawcett and loved it very much. I will be returning to the U.S.A. reading - or perhaps having finished? - Margaret Atwood´s ¨The Blind Assassin.¨
**
I am happy for this stolen day roaming San Pedro´s winding streets. Just 15 minutes away but so different from San Marcos, more like an actual Guatamalan town than a gringo hippy commune kibbutz. Though San Marcos is where I met amazing artist and newest friend David Perez Sacach and I will remember it fondly thus along with our hike along the lake and through the hills all the way to Santa Cruz.
**
The girls.. sisters, cousins, friends?... are glued to the TV. The small gaggle of them is gathered there mesmerized by some Spanish variety show where adults are performing slapstick routines that keep sending them into fits of hysterical laughter. Even if I have come for tonight's chorizo taco special I am clearly sitting in what is also the family living room. No matter. I am the only one there, awaiting my taco special among the plastic tables and chairs and every once in a while I set my book down to see what's so funny. Whenever they burst into laughter the youngest one looks over, as if curious to see whether I find all this funny too. I make a point of demonstrating that I do. Outside dusk has become night and the rain falls in heavy sheets.
**
All afternoon people return my smiles. I will miss that about Central America, the exchange of pleasantries that seems to come so easily here with just about everyone. Old women with bundles on their heads. Kids playing on the streets or biking past. Men walking to the fields with their hoes and machetes. I usually start it saying, "buenos dias" or just "buenos," or "adios" and they all smile warmly briefly back and say something in kind. Today an older San Pedro gentleman wearing a cowboy hat stopped me on a narrow path we were crossing to introduce himself. He held out his hand and I hesitated just briefly before taking it. "Mucho gusto," I said meaning it before we both just carried on.
#
Wet season lasts from May to about September/October here in Central America and I´m learning the hard way it´s not messing around. The rain was lovely when it started back in Nicaragua turning Ometepe vibrant green and the Antigua streets shiny for a few convenient hours, but now it´s done nothing but sabatoge my plans and make me really soggy.
Wet season means ¨low¨ season in Central America, therefore a difficult time to find groups for planned outdoor activities. With only 2 people signed up, Quetzeltrekkers canceled the 3 day hike I was so looking forward to from Xela to Atitlan. Then after finally finding a guide willing to take just one person up Volcan San Pedro, I woke up this morning to the strongest downpour since arriving at Lago de Atitlan on Wednesday.
But I took the 7:30 am lancha from San Marcos where I´d been staying to San Pedro anyway, fully optimistic and hopeful the rain would stop by the time it arrived - even though San Pedro is just a 15 minutes boatride away. Nevermind that climbing a steep volcano when it´s wet nevermind raining is not a good idea by any rational standards, I just really wanted to HIKE. Unsurprisingly my guide wasn´t going anywhere.
So instead I have a day to kill in San Pedro La Laguna. Not a terrible place to while (wile?) some time away on a rainy day... getting to know this other pretty town on the laguna, eating lots of freshly made tamales, catching up on emails and some reading. Besides, I love tamales and my room at Hotel Tepepulkan has a good view of the lake, appropriate for my last day here.
Tomorrow I will forget about Volcan San Pedro and visit Chichicastenango´s famous Sunday market instead. I will practice non-attachment, roll with the punches. I´ve been wanting to visit Chichicastenango anyway.
Oh look! The sun is coming out.
POSTSCRIPT(S)
That sun was a momentary hoax. It peeked out then went away again. The rest of the afternoon continued to be heavy with clouds and the portent of more rain to come. I did manage to sneak in two fresh tamales on a street stoop before it returned!
**
My grand accomplishment of the day: finding San Pedro´s used bookstore and getting a new book (did I blog about how my trusty Kindle died when I landed??). Finally finished the copy of ¨The Lost City of Z¨ that Natalie gave me when I left Salinas about the early 20th century explorer Percy Fawcett and loved it very much. I will be returning to the U.S.A. reading - or perhaps having finished? - Margaret Atwood´s ¨The Blind Assassin.¨
**
I am happy for this stolen day roaming San Pedro´s winding streets. Just 15 minutes away but so different from San Marcos, more like an actual Guatamalan town than a gringo hippy commune kibbutz. Though San Marcos is where I met amazing artist and newest friend David Perez Sacach and I will remember it fondly thus along with our hike along the lake and through the hills all the way to Santa Cruz.
**
The girls.. sisters, cousins, friends?... are glued to the TV. The small gaggle of them is gathered there mesmerized by some Spanish variety show where adults are performing slapstick routines that keep sending them into fits of hysterical laughter. Even if I have come for tonight's chorizo taco special I am clearly sitting in what is also the family living room. No matter. I am the only one there, awaiting my taco special among the plastic tables and chairs and every once in a while I set my book down to see what's so funny. Whenever they burst into laughter the youngest one looks over, as if curious to see whether I find all this funny too. I make a point of demonstrating that I do. Outside dusk has become night and the rain falls in heavy sheets.
**
All afternoon people return my smiles. I will miss that about Central America, the exchange of pleasantries that seems to come so easily here with just about everyone. Old women with bundles on their heads. Kids playing on the streets or biking past. Men walking to the fields with their hoes and machetes. I usually start it saying, "buenos dias" or just "buenos," or "adios" and they all smile warmly briefly back and say something in kind. Today an older San Pedro gentleman wearing a cowboy hat stopped me on a narrow path we were crossing to introduce himself. He held out his hand and I hesitated just briefly before taking it. "Mucho gusto," I said meaning it before we both just carried on.
#
