Guatemala

Tuesday, January 20, 2009
We left Belize on Thursday, the 15th and spent the day getting to Flores, Guatemala. I’ve been hearing only good things about Guatemala and despite some government agencies not recommending travel in the region; I decided if I’m this close I should go. Besides it’s been raining like crazy so the beaches in Belize are of no use... and the ruins of Tikal await. The trip to Guatemala is relatively hassle-free with only three changes of bus but we definitely paid too much in Belize City for a painfully cramped mini-bus to Flores. On the ride we meet Andy, from Boston, who epitomizes why some people do not like Americans. He boasts of how many countries and places he has “done” (I hate that expression) and continually repeats that this is his 14th trip to Guatemala. He also tells me that long distance relationships never work when I tell him about the amazing boyfriend I have in Saskatoon. He says the only way it will work is if we have an “open” relationship, which basically means we can both have sex with random people and that will keep us together. I told him we will be fine and thanks for the great advice.
Flores is a lovely island on Lago de Peten Itza and is joined to the larger (and seedier) town of Santa Elena by one long bridge. The night we arrive it is still raining but there is a procession through the winding, steep cobblestone streets of Flores for the patron saint of the village. We follow hundreds of devout worshippers and a statue of the saint around the town in the rain.
Bright and early the next morning we visit the towering pyramids of Tikal. First settled in 700 BC, Tikal is set deep in a tropical jungle. The first temple we climb is 196 steps to the top. I feel like I’m standing on top of the world up here; a strong wind blows, the ledge around the top is narrow and I wonder if I would survive such a fall. Time to get down...
The best part about Tikal, since we have opted for “the silent show” (sans over-pricedntour guide and therefore information) is the walk through the jungle to each site. The park is 500-sq-km so we’re in there all day, exploring the ruins and watching monkeys in the trees. As we wander down trails, ancient rocks covered in moss slowly come into vision and the front of a restored temple climbs into the sky. The jungle has consumed the other side of this temple and it simply looks like a large hill, covered in trees and vegetation. We climb a long ladder straight up to the summit of the massive building and discover an even narrower ledge. I’m less apprehensive about this one; if I was meant to tumble off one of these temples it would have happened by now.
On Saturday afternoon, after a long bus ride and a short boat trip from Rio Dulce and across Lago Izabal, we arrived at the Casa Perico, a wonderful hostel owned by two Swiss men. Set in the marsh of the lakeshore and accessible only by boat, this place is an oasis of wooden cabins connected by boardwalks over the water. Since it is still raining we make the most of it and warm up with a bottle or two of their finest red vino...
Sunday is spent on a breath-taking river journey down the river from Lago Izabal to the town of Livingston. We pass between 300 foot high cliffs, covered in jungle, with occasional white-washed rocks jutting out. Transportation, food and economical resources for the people who live along this waterway are completely dependent on the river.
Livingston is a town quite unlike any other place in Guatemala. Because of its location on the Caribbean coast and its isolation from any roads the friendly people here are Garifuna (or Black Carib) and similar to many in Belize, are descendants of Africans brought to the New World as slaves. I’ve heard tapado is the local specialty so I order a bowl for dinner. I am brought a huge bowl of coconut milk soup with fried plantains (bananas) and carrots in it. There are also four shrimp, a crab cut in half and I see a tail poking out of one side. It’s a whole fish... I dig in and get enjoyably messy.
After 13 hours and 6 different buses through the jungle, we are now in La Ceiba, Honduras. It’s a shady town; there were drunken bums outside of our hotel at 8pm last night. But we came here for only one reason: La Moskitia. Said to be the last untamed, untouched and unspoiled wilderness frontier in Central America, La Moskitia is beautiful, arduous and can be dangerous. Drug runners supposedly use it but only in rainy season. So the only thing to worry about is nature herself...
We’ve arranged a tour with an excellent company in La Ceiba called “La Moskitia Ecoaventuras” and beginning tomorrow at 5am we will catch a bus, then a 4x4 truck into the heart of the jungle where we will continue on our journey in a dug- out wooden canoe. No electricity or running water for 5 days, but we will get to stay with families in villages who live much the same as they did two centuries ago. I can’t wait...