The next day we drove the 60 kms to Xela. Yes, it is a mere 60 kms as the crow flies from the border to Quetzaltenango (nickname Xela), the road however is closer to 170 kms and the drive is a solid three hours. This ride took us over a mountain, through clouds and eventually back down into Xela, which at about 2500 meters gave some stark difference to the hot and humid coast we were accustomed to. Namely it was cold. Yes family and friends back in Canada, I know it is colder there, but it is still a bit of a shock to wake up to 10 degree when you're used to waking up to 25. Again, yes, I know. Poor me.
Upon arriving in Xela we met Gladys, the woman who runs the school as well as our surrogate family. All great people, very welcoming. There were several other students studying as well and we met a fair number of them. They were all really great people and we ended up spending nearly every night out with them for either coffee or drinks and of course a little studying and homework... For the week we'd be at class by 8:30, like the good academic minds we are (We weren't even late once mom!). And after our four hour stint, one on one with a teacher we have a little break before we would have the option of doing an activity through the school.
Day one after our classes Eduardo took the four of us to look for motorcycle parts (Billy and Patrick), and then toured the historic center of town. Some great history and really beautiful old colonial style buildings all throughout the central park as well as the adjacent streets.
The second day, I was the only one feeling chipper enough to head out for the activity. This day Cindy took myself and Brandon, a student from the States, to one of the markets. This was my first time in a real busy market like this. It was incredible to see the bustle of people, the heaps of fruit and vege, the unmatched piles of socks, shoes and clothes. We also saw people making ornate scarves and blankets, hand looming every inch of it. Strange I know, but standout among all of these things were the carrots. I have never seen carrots like this, such a bright orange and about the same size as my forearm. Had my mother fed me those as a child she'd have definitely turned my orange more times than she already did.
Soon after this we went to what Cindy explained to be the oldest Spanish Church in Central America. It was pretty incredible to see the old hardwoods borrowed from the other colonies as well as the simplicity of the church itself. The outside mouldings were of fruit and the faded plaster really gave the church the look of an old man. Worn and proud.
Leaving the church Cindy suggested we stop for Frutas. I thought, “Great, I can't wait to try some of that lovely, fresh produce,” but I was wrong. She took us to a small house nearby the Church where a woman, in a small drum under her sink was making a liquor out of fruit (frutas). The woman brought us out a cup of the liquor as well as a plate of the fruit used in its creation. The drink itself tasted much like a winecooler, but it kicked like hard alcohol, and the fruit was even stronger. Naturally a bottle was necessary, and for the price of 20Q (about 3 dollars) I had a bottle of my own. We also stopped by a place that made and sold egg liquor. Another stop and taste test was necessary and another 20Q spent.
Wednesday we decided to skip the activity so we could go try and find money to pay our hosts, unfortunately it appears that the city of Xela has given an atm monopoly to a company called Cajero 5B, and 5B does not accept Canadian debit cards, nor does any bank branch there. Thankfully our Visa's worked to withdraw cash. That is everyone but Colin, who was forced to live off the kindness of others for that week.
Thursday Eduardo once again took us on our little adventure, up a mountain, through many farms to a place called Los Vahos. Los Vahos are a series of natural hot vapour vents created by volcanic activity. The Vents have had buildings built around them, creating a series of hot, steamy saunas. They then fill the vents with herbs which creates a really unique smell. A great reward for the long hike up.
Not having enough of the hot and wet, Friday we went to a nearby town named Zunil. Zunil holds the largest agricultural market in Guate and also happens to be home to a series of hot springs which were ceded to Xela decades ago. So the four of us, with Eduardo and two other students, Brandon and Franziska hopped in the back of a Toyota Hilux, with what can only be described as a birdcage on the back, and rode up this mountain. The ride could be described as precarious at best, with sections of road washed out by recent floods and two way traffic on a one lane mountian road, it was an experience. Upon arriving at the pools we enjoyed dips in both the medium pools before deciding it was time to take on the hot pool. The hot pool is the biggest of the three, yet for some reason during our entire time there we did not see anyone dip more than a toe in. Other than us that is. While everyone stood around the pool, dipping in toes and hmming and haaing about the heat, genious me decided that the best way to get in would be just to walk right in. So in I strode until I was neck deep. I then had time to turn around and put on a brave face before I knew I had to get out, NOW. I spent maybe 20-30 seconds in that pool and my legs felt tingly for a couple hours after. The other guys then decided that they must feel the full body warmth as well and jumped in and out about as quick as humanly possible. At Colin's suggestion I left my watch in the pool to check the tempurature. My watch maxed out at 45 degrees celsius. If you're curious why on earth they would make the biggest, nicest pool the one that is unusable, the one that you could poach fish in, it wasn't always that way. Apparently a landslide in 1998 opened up a new vent and increased the heat in that pool a fair bit.
That night was the night of the infamous Halloween party and a bar aptly named Beer and Pool. We went there with a bunch of the other students. And while Guatemalan's do not traditionally celebrate Halloween as much as day of the dead, that didn't stop them from partying like there was not going to be a tomorrow. Thankfully, but unfortunately, we'd agreed to go to Lake Chicabal at 6 am that morning with Eduardo, so after a couple hours sleep, 6 oclock came and myself, a very ill Bill and Brandon and Franziska hopped a microbus towards the lake with Eduardo. A microbus is simply a 15 seater van that has had all the seatbelts removed and is apparently capable of carrying X number of people. We got up to 21 and the drivers assistant was still yelling for more people. After what felt like hours we arrived at the base of a volcano. We then proceeded to climb said volcano and damn was it steep. After a few hours of climbing we found ourselves looking over the edge of the bowl of this volcano and down inside of it was one of the most pristine lakes I have ever seen. Surrounded by lush jungle and not a ripple on the water, it was truly incredible. From this ledge if one turned 180 degrees we could also watch the most active Volcano in Guate errupting for us, belching smoke into the air. We then climbed the 615 steps down into the crater of this lake to get a closer look. We walked around the entire lake, looking at the mayan shrines which each correspond with their respective sign on the mayan calandar. All in all it was a pratty exceptional hike and some incredible views.
After taking the rest of the day to recover we took off Sunday with a local not for profit, Quetzaltrekkers, who organize hikes and use the proceeds to fund a school for street kids as well as a group home. They put us on a chicken bus, a converted school bus with a roof rack, and drove us two hours to a big truck where all of us climbed in and rode to a tiny little town where we were able to take part in a temescal, a traditional mayan way to bathe. Essentially it is just a small cement doghouse that three people climb into along with hot coals and a tub of hot and cold water. Think a smokey mixture of sauna and sponge-bath, in the dark. Check another thing off the list I suppose.
In the morning we hiked up the tallest non-volcanic peak in Central America, a fun hike with some fun people that ended up with some incredible views looking out over the clouds. I don't think I've ever seen sky that blue. After stopping by a lake for lunch we climbed down and ended up in the small town of Todos Santos (All Saints). We got into this sleepy village around dusk and only had time to eat and change before heading out to the Peacecorps Halloween Party where I was lucky enough to run into my dad's friend's daughter Leah. Small world. As fun as the party was, it was nothing to prepare us for what was to come. When we woke up at 8 on Monday morning, this sleepy little town had turned into the craziest place on earth.
Todos Santos is famous for its horse race that it holds every year on day of the dead, also known as All Saints day. Yes the town is named after the day, and they are the center of celebration for Nov 1. in Guate. This horse race consists of men in traditional garb racing horses up and down a 1/8 mile track for 9 hours straight... Oh. And they do this while piss drunk. Stepping outside our front door in the morning we could see the racers heading to the start line, still drunk from the night before. None of them were capable of directing their own horses, so they had a guide walking their horse for them, some of the riders were even passed out on their horses on their way to the race.
You see, in the times of the Spanish conquistadors, the Spanish would not allow the mayans to ride horses, so one day a year they would race these horses piss drunk to show that they could. A giant middle finger to the Spanish. What could make this race more crazy you ask? How about riding without any hands? Its also good luck for someone to die during the race. Needless to say accidents happened. Lots of people fell off, a few were trampled, one had his horse collapse through the fence and pin him to the ground... and then four oclock comes around. During the last hour some riders are given a chicken in place of their whip. A live chicken. I don't know why. No one does. But it just takes the race to next level crazy, to see men at full gallop, so drunk they can barely stay conscious, with no hands on the horse and a chicken in one. It is simply beyond explanation. There is nothing I can compare this race to.
Once the race is over things don't calm down either. There is dancing of Marimba and drinking and more drinking. I have never seen that many people passed out on the street or in the mud, but they sure don't let that put a damper on their celebrations. While Pat and Colin were enjoying the company of some of our newly made friends, Billy, myself and a few more UK gentlemen walked around town. Billy and I ended up meeting a very friendly Guatemalan who insisted he give us beers and dance with us.
The next morning the party continues at the cemetery with a bizarre mixture of partying and mourning. Tears and alcohol, music and dance. It felt incredibly strange to be there as a tourist but I was definitely worth seeing. Definitely an experience to remember.
After two more days in Xela, getting things sorted and saying our goodbyes, off we went towards Guate City to meet my cousin and her boyfriend there. The people were lovely, but Guate city will not be remembered fondly by me. What we saw was largely a huge, predominantly ugly city. Poorly maintained with little real feel to it. Then again after two days I'm not sure its fair to make that assertion, but I'm in no hurry to return. I left feeling like I'd been smoking to packs a day and had a stress ulcer from the traffic.
From Guate city we moved off towards Honduras with a splendidly unexciting ride through some beautiful mountains. The only hiccup occurred when we rounded a band to find that a bridge had been totally washed out. So with our first chance to see how our bikes took to water we were able to drive across with little fanfare. The border built on a delightfully dull day, being the fastest and most painless border crossing we've had since the States.
That brought us to En La Manzana Verde, In the Green Apple, a hostel in Copan Ruinas where we spent two days acclimatizing to Honduran life with some other travellers. We also checked out the ruins of Copan, apparently the Paris of the ancient Mayans. It was pretty impressive, no arc de triumph though. Despite the lack of massive roundabouts it was very impressive to see the buildings, the statues and the ball court. Our tour guide even explained and show us carvings that suggest that the Mayans had figured out that the earth rotates around the sun back in the 700's. It was really interesting to see how the ability of the craftsmen became more and more refined through the generations of the dynasty, creating amazingly complex pieces of stone using only a stone chisel.
While we were at in the Green Apple we also met some German girls and another girl from California, all great people so we decided it would be nice to all cook a big dinner of a vegetarian orientation. This made me feel incredibly healthy until the after dinner 1L (6 cent) cigars came out for their rounds. Eventually we got told to go to bed, probably a good idea as we were the only ones of our group that would not be waking up for a 6 or 7 oclock bus. With noone interesting left at the hostel, and having seen all of Copas Ruinas we decided today to continue on our weary way, making our way to Gracias, the one time capital of all of Central America. Gracias is a really pretty little town with a lot of colonial influence. Not much going on here though so we venture tomorrow towards Tegucigalpa and then on towards Nicaragua! Another update will come when, like tonight, I have tubes capable of accepting both text and photos at the same time.
Bray
Some great sharing and photos, Braydon. Thanks. Stay Safe.
ReplyDeleteLaurie Mc
Laughed so hard at the horse races description.
ReplyDelete