Fill in later.

For now, quote from receipt:

IT IS FORBIDDEN TO TAKE PHOTOS INSIDE OF THE CHURCH IT IS AL SO FORBIDDEN TO TAKE PHOTOS DURING ANY RITUALS AS WELL AS FROM OFFICIALS WEARING RITUAL COSTUMES.
THOSE TOURIST WHO DO NOT RESPET THESE RULES WILL BE PUNISHED.

...said the sign at the Guatemala border.

Just got into San Cristobal after a day of school buses, mini-vans, and collective cabs, not to mention walking with BOTH my bags for the first time in a while. Am now at calle Benito Juarez numero 2, where there is an internet cafe that is closing right now, and also a youth hostel (Albergue Juvenil), which I am planning to check out as soon as I finish writing this and they kick me out. If possible, I will probably stay in a dorm here, since it looked like the best option in my Lonely Planet book.

Rolando almost came with me, but lucky he didnt try past Comitan, as they ended up spot-checking us for ID a bit further and he didnt have his passport on him! If you are reading this, Rolando, muchas gracias por todo tu apoyo y amistad estos dias, y cuidate mucho, y nos vemos, pronto espero!

Anyways, gotta try to find a bed for the night! Buenas noches...

[although i never actually slept in the lovely bed pictured [not quite hostel quality], i did hang out on it for a while!]

Last email check before I cross back over, heading via La Mesilla Huehuetenango (border town) to San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico for what should be a crazy New Years/10-year-anniversary of the Zapatista Revolution. Plans to meet up with Amanda, a Canadian girl I met in San Pedro, and some other folks... Yee-haw!

On a bit of a mission: hoping to find more of that yummy organic all-naturally sweetened artisanal chocolate before I go! Must sustain myself on the long journey ;)

[Pic from San Juan, one of the pueblos near Lago Atitlan, where I started playing with some little boys with a ball on these church steps...]

To fill in later...

For now, lets just say its been a fast, fun, and dusty 20 or so hours.

This morning, just out of a special treat of a hot shower, my first in days, I watched a piece of plastic floating hight through the air above Rolando-s family-s yard, where roosters and chicks and dogs and cats and a sole cow roam, with a mountainous backdrop, gave pause at the beauty to be found in unexpected places.

And I know it was done first in American Beauty.

(Or at least it was done there before.)

Today we °did° Almolonga, Zunil, Cantel, and Totnicapan, then came back here. Just when I was convinced I would never get to meet Rolando{s family, his dad turns up in the internet cafe here (Alternativas) and we make plans to finally head up there. Should be interesting, given I dont quite understand the dynamic there, but suffice to say its not the norm- Rolando moved out when he was 11, and has been a free spirit ever since.

My cameras memory card is almost full, and I am totally kicking myself for not shelling out another $100 back in Canada for an extra 256 MB because some of the pics Im gonna have to delete are priceless - and I{m only have way through my trip. Plans almost crystalised to head up to San Cristobal for the huge 10 year anniversary of the Zapatista Revolution - planning to meet up with Amanda from Toronto-Alberta and others met in San Pedro there.

Im getting a bit tired. Feeling the need to connect more profoundly. Like to people I will have in my life longer than a week, or nature (still havent climbed a volcano or swum in a lake), or something... I don’t know. Maybe being on the road is just getting to me. Analogy of the safari came into my mind


I am seriously thinking of ways I can return to Guatemala and get involved in helping. There is such pronounced need. But I want to make sure that any way I start meddling will not have bad repercussions down the road, and there are so many complexities to the situation and so many ways Im thinking I could get involved: like supporting community based eco tourism, fair trade, organic agriculture, capacity building, teaching, etc.

The man I spoke with in the back of the crowded truck I took out of San Something (near Lake Atitlan) was so excited to tell me about the Spanish School his brother is running – the San Juan Spanish School, I think – and how he is a hero in the community because of the shared income generated. He sees the solution to the pronounced poverty as bringing in more tourists to stimulate the economy. In a way, I think hes right, but am dubious about seeing catering to foreign interest (on an individual or national level) as a panacea. I mean, in working with environmental issues, there are some obvious setbacks to inviting over-consuming wealthy folks into your community without getting them to pay the full cost of their stay. Yet the girl sitting beside him kept looking into my eyes and smiling as he went on and on. I am a sucker for children. The connections I was able to make with them, simply by showing interest and accepting their invitations to join in their games and exchange languages, were easier and left a more profound feeling than all the adult conversations I had.

If anyone knows of any funding sources or wants to help me write a grant proposal for a project, please let me know – any assistance would be much appreciated.

K, gotta go up to the land of cold mountain air and Rolandos family and no hot water or internet - rural Qutzaltenango; looking forward to it.

P.S. Mom, thought Id tell you Ive been thinking of you and even bought some organic naturally sweetened chocolate with you in mind. Thing is, I ate it. Id say it was cuz I don’t have room to carry extra stuff, but really it is cuz it looked good and Ive been off chocolate for almost 2 weeks thanks to the Flagyl and I couldn’t help it. It was yummy. Besides, it would have been stale by the time you got it. So thank you ;) I will save you the wrapper and try to find some more…

[Note the very out-of-place McDonald's fries container in the pictured traditional market...]

Left the Lake Atitlan region and after several tranfers (open-topped trucks to minivan to over-crowded school buses) arrived in Rolandoñs home town. Not as warm here(physically and metaphorically), still dont know where we{re staying cuz after we ditched the bags at the tias house and came back to the city to look around, the bus we tried to catch back stopped half way and we had to transfer cuz they havent finished buiding a bridge there which sorta makes it a road block and the replacement bus got full before we could embark/(and by full i mean picture a family of 5 in some of the seats and the aisles cramped)... Not really feeling up to writing, although I really have lots of impressions and stories to fill in reÑ: Atitlan. Doesn{t help that the keyboard is written in english but types in spanish and i can{t punctuate for the life of me= Another time...

I think I´m going to stop using the word poverty. Or maybe at least qualify it by saying that money definitely is no the only measure of such. (flashback to conversation with Artie re el mismo)

That being said, today we visited some indiginous villages that were probably the poorest (monetarily/by traditional measures) I´ve ever seen. Travelling by open backed truck, we were the only tourists... TBC


San Juan - send foto, ball by church
San Pablo - basketball, kids fotos


[To upload other photos later... This one is me trying on a beautiful shirt that I didn't end up getting - cropped the pic below the waist where, unfortunately, it fit funny!]

Firecrakers went off all through the eve (right through the morning) in the hands of children in these streets where, oddly enough, Spanish is comparatively rare and travelers from all over the world congregate to relax
in the beauty of Lake Atitlan and quaint towns where traditionally-dressed indeginous people, wearing inticrately hand-crafted garments that cost them
more than their labour is valued, sell colourful wares and services to the foreigners who come to consume and relax. In this scene reminiscent of The Drifters, France, Canada, Israel, Italy, Mexico, the US, Chile, Colombia,
and Germany (etc.) are all well-represented, and international groups of young people bond and share stories and change plans to move on together, but I think Rolando is the only Guatemalteca here on vacation. There is something very cool and exciting about the energy here, but also an underlying uneasiness with the role I am playing in a tourism that seems to
be driving the lives of so many people who work so hard and earn so little simply to enable me to enjoy...

Yesterday, in Santiago, I came across two lovely girls bathing in the water. The older one asked for a quetzel in exchange for a photo, and I explained I was only taking pictures of the scenery. But, before long, they were
inviting me into the frigid water, and joking aroudn that it was actually warm, and when Leticia, the oldest, started jumping off the dock, and I asked if she wanted me to take her picture, she got very excited. Showing
them (her, her sister Carmelina - who only wades, too afraid to learn to swim - and Oseas and Juan, the younger brothers watching from the shore) the miniture image on my digital camera screen was enough to evoke huge smiles and bouts of laughter. Before long, they were posing like United Colors of Benetton models. (Analogy intentional.)

Travel makes lots of questions inevitable, but answers still difficult to decide upon. Like how we can possibly pay fairly in a world so replete with injustice and inequity, where it is possibly for some to spend months
travelling to all ends of the world, eating well and taking in the best there is to offer, while others struggle just to get by. Rolando's take on
giving money is that it creates a habit of dependency that isn't healthy.
But when most of the people in this villages depend on tourism to earn a living, how is it possible to pretend they aren't dependent. And, from this totally imbalanced economic-cultural-social-power situation, how can we move forward and develop genuine relationships based on sharing and co-operation?

In the end, I gave Leticia a Quetzel. It seemed the very least I could do. Far too little, but more than enough to satisfy her, for the time being.

Perhaps next time I will share her bath and find a way to bridge that seemingly immense gap, or at least share a moment.

Hola Nelly! Ya no fuimos al volcan por que nos levantamos tarde. Sin embargo, iremos a San Lucas Toliman a las 14:30 y regresaremos como las 20 horas. Puedes acompanarnos si gustas al viaje que haremos. Nos puedes localisar a las 14.30 en el parque de San Pedro. Y en caso que no puedes, nos veremos en la noche. Quedemos aqui, cuarto 12 en el Mansion del Lago, y aqui puedes dejar una nota. Saludos,
Rolando y Cara

In an internet cafי in Panajachel about to catch a boat across Lake Atitlan
to San Pedro. I can’t believe I overpacked so much, but Rolando has been
totally awesome helping carry my big backpack, among other hospitable sort
of things. Arrived in Guatemala yesterday, safe and sound after almost
missing my flight because they sent me to the wrong gate. Had to get
shuttled out with a few other misdirected stragglers and board from the
runway. Half-slept most of the way, but awoke a for a bit, hungry enough to
eat around the ham in the cheese sandwich. Despite my anti-socialness and
the fact that I think I stole her window seat, Amanda, the Guatemalteca girl
beside me, invited me to come visit her village Sipacate La Comera.


Rolando arrived around 6, after I’d made nice with the Tourist Information
dude, who let me stash my bags behind his kiosk desk. Went with him and his
friends (Pablo & Jessica and their cute oddly guero baby Pablito) to a
Posada (pre-Christmas gathering with a musical pilgrimage to the host house
to act out a Maria/Mary and Jose/Joseph scene with a back and forth
sing-song process before the partyers-to-be get let in), then spent the
night at their house. Interesting late night conversations about corruption
and society and individualism and other light stuff.

The poverty in Guatemala City is very apparent, somehow more
desperate and less aggressive than Mexico. Fill in later.

Gotta run or I’ll miss the lancha

I finally hear from Rolando, moments before I leave the office (sitio is on its way to take me to the airport), and he's on his way from Quetzaltenango to meet me there... I'd made contact with a guy from http://www.hospitalityclub.org just in case, who said I could stay with him if I needed to, which is very cool, and probably the reason Rolando ended up getting back to me. (Isn't it one of Murphy's laws that if you have no other alternative places to stay you willl sleep in the airport?) Ooh, taxi's here, gotta go!

Okay, I´m getting a bit nervous. Haven´t heard back from Rolando since our plan was to meet at Tapachula (the Guatemala-Mexico border) about 4 hours from his parents´ place in Quetzaltenango. I went and bought a plane ticket to Guatamala City under the assumption that it would be easier to shave 2 travel days off my schedule, and that Rolando would be there when I landed (given that he lives there). But I´ve gotten no response to my e-mails and my plane leaves in 18 hours. What do I do if I get to Guatemala City and nobody is there? I must admit it´s a little bit scary to think about it. Oh well, people travel to new countries by themselves all the time. And I _was_ looking for adventure... I guess worst comes to worst I can use it as a ´challenging experience´ when they ask me to describe one in my next job interview.

The title´s also quite literal. The night temperature here in D.F. has been hovering only marginally above 0 degrees, and we have no heating. Meaning it´s fricking cold in the house! Sleeping in 3-4 layers and waking up to the frigid bathroom tiles that don´t warm up until the shower does is definitely an experience I could do without.

Brr. And people say Canada is cold. Well, at least we have calefaccion...

Last night walked into the Mundo Joven travel agency with "dolares" and, over an hour and a half later (not the most efficient service/payment set-up), walked out with a one-way ticket to Guatemala City! Leaving Monday! Back... some time in the New Year - somehow! Planning to meet up with Rolando from GEO Guatemala and travel there and in the Chiapas and that's about all I know... YAY :)

Just realised that, although I've been writing stuff in my "off-line" journal, I haven't posted anything new here (except pictures to accompany old entries) since the beginning of the month. Therefore, I'm gonna do some quasi-transcribing to get things a bit more up-to-date before I take off next week and hopefully have much more interesting things to write about.

The doctor didn't even order lab tests, he was so sure of it. So, with Kim helping with the translations, I learned how horribly dangerous it is to be vegetarian here and that I should never eat in restaurants blah blah blah. And this, with me planning to go to Guatemala/Chiapas in less than a week, where this sort of thing is supposed to be worse.

So now I'm taking ridiculous doses of Flagyl (500mg, 3 times a day) that give me headaches and make me taste metal at periodic intervals and appear to turn my pee a weird orange-ish yellow. And am not allowed to eat raw vegetables (or consume alcohol, coffee, chocolate, anything spicy, etc.). I hate it. As if my diet wasn't restricted enough before they had to go prohibit my consumption of salad (the only veggie-friendly dish prepared by Jose in the kitchen at work).

I tried to bargain with the doctor about the medication - Can I start when I get back from vacation? How about after my roommate's birthday party on Friday? - and he would have none of it. Apparently dysentery is dangerous if untreated.

I'm also a bit worried/confused. The doctor said the prescribed meds aren't an antibiotic and the amoeba don't build resistance, but other people (i.e., my dad, whose medical opinion I respect) have said it is an antibiotic. Which makes me wonder about fallibility of the diagnosis.

Oh well, I guess I can't really do much about it, except wait and see if these pills do there job, and, if not, go back and demand more rigorous tests.

PNUMA (UNEP) x-mas party.

Big house & waiters & wine & cheese & my first official piñata-bashing experience. Unless piñatas count when they're not in Mexico. I don't think they do. Luis added eggs to the mandatory fruit-filling. Inevitably mess upon splattering. Lowered my motivation to be the one underneath at the time of explosion.

Later, random walk with Danila (Italian engineering student living in our apartment for 3 weeks on some scholarship). Came across Casa de Fidel, a Cuban cafe like 5 blocks from the house; the owner's is, in fact, called Fidel, which makes the name of the establishment more ambiguous than it seems at first.

Drawn in by the music, a boy playing guitar as his table of 3 more, the only customers, sing along. As the night went on, everyone got acquainted: Jorge/Frank - 28-year-old Nestle chef who claims to earn $25,000 a month (yes, that's USD) and also owns a restaurant; Emiliano (21) - also referred to as Zapata, a cheerleader/finance student (also the aforementioned guitar player-singer); Bolivar (19?), who wants to travel and be a museum curator but is currently being a high-school student and working at another cafe near my house; Angie Roux (2_), who works as a lawyer's assistant and likes to speak English and knows somebody living in Vancouver; and Fidel Ernesto Enrique Gonzalez, who owns the joint and whose dad is Cuban and who invited me to come lead a discussion on GEO/environment issues. Conversation got pretty interesting at points. Like when I mentioned I'm not a big fan of Nestle and Jorge asked why and I explained about the breast-milk/formula-pushing issue, and he didn't deny it; he bought me my tea, though, which was nice of him.

I think I'll be going back. Chill environment, good vibes and neat community-type events like movie nights and coffee talks and stuff reminiscent of Commercial Drive in Van.

It'd be better with sofas, though; I've already put in my order.

home
is a place
that's cold

in the winter
you can watch
your breath

float away
ever after
happily

Film event with Lenin & Karla & Jose Luis & Maria.

Free. Helps to have connections in the industry.

At the end of the presentation of the best-ranked short films submitted to the contest (each 9 minutes and 85 seconds long and somehow relating to this year's theme: "protest") we were greeted by the surprise of well-known band ________ (name escaping me at the moment NOTE LATER: Molotov) playing a set exactly within the requisite time limit, to the second, assisted by a big digital clock and really cool lighting. Then they came back for an amazing encore that lasted longer.

Even though I didn't know the band before, it was still pretty rad.

Luis got back from his GEO for Youth Cuba trip and recounted his experience - not good. Not only did he come back with a loss of faith in workable alternatives to "the system" (in light of the poverty, desperation, racism etc. witnessed in the supposedly egalitarian haven) but also recounted the "exciting" story of his being robbed by 3 guys, who escorted him to the 6th floor of a building and took everything of value he had on him (wallet, MP3 player, & even shoes). The $150 USD cash he lost is more than the annual salary of most Cubans.

Makes me reconsider the glamour of work-travel.

Maria wakes me with a "Yo me voy" announced firmly through the door and I suddenly realise that having stuffed my 15 peso Metro-bought alarm clock (which now reads 3 o'clock instead of nearly 8) under my pillow after the wall magic wore off and the too-loud tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-ticking on my night table just had to be quieted if I was ever going to sleep wasn't the best idea.

I am not sleeping because I am watching the wall where the street light streaming through the vertical blinds is painting stripes on my ceramic Aztec Calendar and it is looking almost too beautiful in an inexplicable way that makes me think it is better I am sleeping alone these days because if not I would surely nudge my partner awake and insist they look at this mundane but captivating image and then I would be disappointed that they didn't find in it the same ______________ (je ne sais quoi).

Yesterday I figured out that you can't use gifs (which seems to be the default for saving from my camera) to post photos here, which is why it never worked before! So, at long last, now that I know I just need to convert them to jpegs first, I can start putting up some pics :)

[This little girl's face (and the fact that she was carrying that puppy around like it was a stuffed animal) just demanded to be recorded in the little market village of Quiroga, Michoacán.]

I just really like this photo and felt like posting it!