To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world. – Freya Stark
Thursday, May 2, 2012 (DAYS 60 - 63)
First off, let me begin by giving a proper shout out as I wish my bestest friend in the whole world an apology for becoming so old! Look at you ahh fräulein, the prettiest princess in Vegas for your berfday! I am sad to be missing it, but I am quite sure that you are now officially old enough NOT to need an adult. Scratch that, I'm actually certain you will ALWAYS need an adult and possibly even one of those child safety leashes so you don't wander off staring at bright lights or being enticed to jump in a rusted out van that has “Free Candy” spray painted awkwardly down the side. I still question your mental ability for willingly choosing to live in Ohio, which most of the world travelers I've met would agree that they would rather live in Kabul, on the bad side of town. Yes, think that over the next time you word vomit your precious O-H, I-Ohhhhh my, I think I just messed my lederhosen in the most unproper of manners. Even Lebron has jumped ship from the armpit of America, too soon Buckeye State? Well if it is, I apologize, just remember The Drive by John Elway and I'm sure drowning your tears in your Glee pillowcase will make everything better. Ah, you know I heart Columbus, otherwise I wouldn’t rag on it as badly as I do the ugly redheaded stepchild, that is our friendly neighbors to the north, oh Canada. Fräulein, you should be ashamed of yourself sir, our pact to take over the world one miracle of life dance at a time is a fleeting dream, just like your youth. How was it again to actually bear witness to the discovery of fire? Jesse, it is your birthday my dear friend, and, you never cease to amaze me in all the ways you continually embarrass me in the public spectacles that should be considered shame. Yet you embrace them, and in doing so, I salute you viejo amigo, happy birthday buddy!
First off, let me begin by giving a proper shout out as I wish my bestest friend in the whole world an apology for becoming so old! Look at you ahh fräulein, the prettiest princess in Vegas for your berfday! I am sad to be missing it, but I am quite sure that you are now officially old enough NOT to need an adult. Scratch that, I'm actually certain you will ALWAYS need an adult and possibly even one of those child safety leashes so you don't wander off staring at bright lights or being enticed to jump in a rusted out van that has “Free Candy” spray painted awkwardly down the side. I still question your mental ability for willingly choosing to live in Ohio, which most of the world travelers I've met would agree that they would rather live in Kabul, on the bad side of town. Yes, think that over the next time you word vomit your precious O-H, I-Ohhhhh my, I think I just messed my lederhosen in the most unproper of manners. Even Lebron has jumped ship from the armpit of America, too soon Buckeye State? Well if it is, I apologize, just remember The Drive by John Elway and I'm sure drowning your tears in your Glee pillowcase will make everything better. Ah, you know I heart Columbus, otherwise I wouldn’t rag on it as badly as I do the ugly redheaded stepchild, that is our friendly neighbors to the north, oh Canada. Fräulein, you should be ashamed of yourself sir, our pact to take over the world one miracle of life dance at a time is a fleeting dream, just like your youth. How was it again to actually bear witness to the discovery of fire? Jesse, it is your birthday my dear friend, and, you never cease to amaze me in all the ways you continually embarrass me in the public spectacles that should be considered shame. Yet you embrace them, and in doing so, I salute you viejo amigo, happy birthday buddy!
Now that I’ve congratulated my wannabe German tourist, complete with wool socks snuggled tightly between his Birkenstocks a wonderful birthday, I’d say my one good deed for the year is now uncontested. Well after two continuous days of travel of more than twenty-five hours spent on various buses and traveling more than 730km (450 miles), I am officially exhausted! The silhouette of Lago de Atitlán is barely visible as the lights from across the lake in San Marcos glow as if they are permanent lightning bugs scattered along the hillside. The once overcrowded chicken bus now has a sparse number of passengers, yet I still have a companion next to me sharing the small child-size green seat. My miniature amigo is only seven years old and is being entertained by my iPhone as we watch Transformers together. Sitting across the aisle and a few seats up from us, Kaya turns around in time to catch me put my arm up on the top of the seat as the little niño leans closer towards the screen with eyes growing wider as the Autobots fight valiantly against the Decepticons. There would be a very nice photo to accompany these writings, but unfortunately my capitalistic friend demanded Q5 for a photo, and so we kindly refused. I am quite certain that I have met the young Guatemalan version of Milk Chocolate if I were in another dimension.
Our chicken bus continues to struggle as it winds back and forth down the bumpy dirt road as we creep in to San Pedro La Laguna, and, on recommendations from Ben at Parrots Dive Center in Utila, we find ourselves in the most colorful hostel I have experienced thus far, ZooLas. The bright fire engine red paint on the exterior of the buildings creates a warm and inviting atmosphere as you enter and an uncanny feeling that is reminiscent of home during the holidays overwhelms me. Just beyond the tables in the restaurant rests a unique lounge area that fits perfectly with the motif of this Israeli owned establishment that perfectly blends both the Middle East with Central America, thereby creating a vibe all its own. Entranced by the colorful hanging lanterns, I am able to muster up just enough energy to join Kaya for dinner. I take a seat on the floor and without helping it I am legs-spread wide open as an eagle, yes spread eagle, leaning up against a stack of soft black body pillows. My attention is not on food, or a long shower, but on crawling into the nearest bed.
After a much-deserved night of sleep, I am up early, and with it, my first glimpse of Lago de Atitlán. The scene is absolutely majestic. Cloud cover hangs amid the volcano-ringed peaks surrounding the southwestern side of the lake, and I have to remind myself that I am at an elevation similar to that of the Mile High City 1,610m (5,282ft), represent three-oh-three. Next on the agenda, explore the small town of San Pedro with a booming population of 13,000 residents–look out New York City, but you have a rival in Guatemala. Throwing my daypack over my shoulder as I take the long narrow walkway that consists of what appears to be hundreds of wooden slates that are perfectly spaced for your foot to slide through, I keep my eyes positioned downward unsure of when the street will appear. Later, I will come to realize that this is a familiar sight for anyone making this walk down to ZooLas, because I have yet to observe anyone that can walk this without constantly staring down at their feet. Just another one of my unique superhero skills that fails to be recognized by the Super Friends, what a bunch of arrogant douches, I’m glad I’m not part of their crappy club for jerks, they certainly are not getting my membership dues. Reaching the street, we begin a steep uphill walk on broken pieces of cobblestone that has our calves burning in a matter of seconds. Dodging tuk tuks becomes a game as the narrow street has a curve that is borderline hair-raising since there is no telling how well maintained the brakes on these small scooters has been, and, at any minute they can become out of control devil carriages with battering ram force. Saying a small prayer upon safely reaching the top, it is only fitting as we reach the center plaza where a large white church sits overlooking the hillside town as it meets the shores below of Atitlán.
Lazily strolling through the square, we exit on the left side of the church towards the mercado and in doing so pass through the playground of a school. Suddenly, I am thrown back to my youth. Fond memories of girls flirtatiously staring from across the room, laughing with friends at the so-called “cool table” in the cafeteria, dishing out swirlies without mercy, and being the front of the line as you lead the class in victory to recess, yes these would be great memories if I wasn’t being harassed outside the boys bathroom by a group of girls, eating my lunch with my hair dripping from toilet water while missing recess. Trying to figure out where the wide line between truth and sarcasm exists? Well not today friend, because this hombre is ready with pistoles drawn. Bang bang! Just one more time for the full effect, BANG BANG! Returning from the wonderful mind warp of Troy, we continue to make our way towards the market when I spot a man holding a sleeping child as he naps as well. Stopping to capture this with my camera, I am still in awe of the beauty of people, even as different as we are, the commonality that ties us to one another is a daily reminder of how fortunate I am to be living life free.
After our brief tour of the town, I am still exhausted from the previous two days of travel and I have decided to retire to my sanctuary, poolside with a panoramic view of Atitlán. ¡Qué Bueno!
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