Santiago de Atitlan

Santiago de Atitlan, our next destination, is a three hour drive away. The road winds, literally, through lush countryside, little towns, and numerous pineapple, sugarcane, coconut and avocado fincas (large farming estates).

My concern about other places paling in comparison to Antigua was, in fact, prophetic. Situated on the southeastern shore of Lago de Atitlan and surrounded by volcanoes, Santiago should be a gorgeous place, but it’s not. Our guidebook describes it as grittily Guatemalan and  “authentic” and maybe that is the problem. We spoiled first-worlders may think we want authentic, but my guess is we actually want our travel destinations sanitized and decorated and replete with amenities and made to look authentic.

Another problem may be that we are no longer in our twenties & thirties, when it was a badge of honour to tough it out in the most challenging locales. To spend the least amount of money on food and lodging. To ride on the top of the bus or, in the case of Nepal, atop an oil tanker. To grind down vendors & drivers & tour guides to get rock-bottom prices. Those days are long gone!!

We are booked into Los Olivos “resort”, which at first glance seems a bit tacky and not particularly resort-like, although there is an outdoor pool. It’s not heated and the air temperature is just above 20 degrees, so we never do take a dip. The resort is 2 km from the town, which we initially think is a drawback. But after a walk into and around town, we are more than happy to return to our basic but clean room at our basic but perfectly adequate resort. It’s all relative!! And perspective is everything!!

https://www.hotellosolivosatitlan.com/

A cool, cloudy, blustery – mucho viento (wind) is apparently normal here – first morning here sees us lounging in bed drinking coffee and relaxing. After a delicious breakfast of huevos rancheros – fried eggs on tortillas with refried beans, salsa & avocado – accompanied by Bing Crosby singing Christmas carols, Craig walks to town to check out activity options.

The next day, down at the ferry dock, Pedro approaches us with a big smile and an extended hand. He’s got a tuk-tuk and is wearing official-looking guide I.D. We agree on a price, hop in, and off we go to see the sights. There aren’t many so it’s a short tour. First stop is a mirador overlooking the lake and one of the volcanos, next is a colourful cemetery, backed by, you guessed it, more volcanos, and then a small park dedicated to those who were massacred in the civil war.

Lasting roughly from 1960 to 1996, the civil war resulted from a rigid class system left over from colonization and a series of military dictatorships that caused unrest, protests and the inevitable government crack-down. Prior to the war wealthy Guatemalans, mainly of European descent, and foreign entities like the American United Fruit Company had control over much of the land. They paid almost zero taxes, leading to conflict with the rural indigenous poor who worked the land under miserable terms. Various leftist groups joined forces with the Mayans, the most persecuted group of underclass, and waged war against the army.

By the end of the war, it is estimated that 140,000–200,000 people had been killed or had disappeared. A high percentage of those killed were Mayan, leading to a UN declaration of genocide.

Today Guatemala is ostensibly a democracy, however the locals claim corruption is rampant and life for the rural population remains pretty subsistence. The good news is that the land provides abundantly. Fruit, vegetables, grains, legumes, nuts, chocolate, chickens & cattle abound. The markets are bursting with food and I doubt anyone goes hungry. Well, except for some of the skinny dogs running loose, rooting through garbage and begging at outdoor cafes. I wish I could unsee a few of the badly off ones that cross our path.

Pedro finishes the tour with a visit to Maximon, a strange deity that you have to see to believe. My photos really don’t capture the weirdness of the experience. He’s draped with scarves, wearing a cowboy hat, a lit cigarette in his mouth and bottles of booze at his feet. I kid you not! His caretakers sit one on either side, smoking and drinking. Oh, and collecting the money you pay to take a photo. Just when you think you’ve seen it all ….

I’m eating my words about travellers’ trots. After a dinner at The Baja California Grill (sounds like a great place, eh?!) Craig spends the night in the loo. The rehydrating salts I carry in my rather large medical bag come in handy, the bug runs its course in less than 24 hours and Craig bounces back to his usual energetic self. But it’s a sobering lesson. Maybe we’ve aged out of this kind of travel: on our own & off the beaten track.

I’ve had an off and on toothache, which has also added to the sense of “wtf are we doing here”. I contemplate seeing a dentista, but only as a last resort. So far the discomfort has not been bad enough. And once again my big beautiful medical bag pays off with enough Azithromycin to cure an elephant’s abscess.

We wait until the wind calms to venture out onto the water. An extensive fleet of boats & ferries serve the various communities on the lake. We opt for a trip to San Pedro, mostly because it is the nearest. It’s also the “hippiest”, according to our guidebook, but seems more hipster than hippy to us. And in many ways it doesn’t feel like it’s in the same country as Santiago. The coffee shops, bakeries, cafes, tattoo & massage parlours, smoothie bars, yoga studios, hair & nail salons, etc all cater to travellers who do not want gritty or authentic. And the tourist crowd here skews young; we are reminded of ourselves at that age.

A tuk-tuk driver talks us into a tour of San Pedro’s sights, which include a church and a couple of viewpoints. He hands us off to his 14 yr old son, Emerson, who does not look old enough for a driver’s licence. He speaks a bit of English and is cute as can be but the so-called tour is not really worth what we’ve agreed to pay.

As we head back to Santiago we are surprised to not feel as though we wished we were staying in a hipster hotel in San Pedro, hanging out with hipster 30-somethings, sipping smoothies and eating Buddha bowls. And after we land at the dock in Santiago we’re glad to be trudging up the gritty streets, through authentic neighbourhoods, back to our basic resort.

After a week here we begin to appreciate Santiago de Atitlan’s unique charms.  Will we be back? Not likely. Would we recommend it as a travel destination? Not likely. Are we glad we spent some time here? Absolutely. The people are warm and welcoming. The markets are colourful and lively. The scenery is gorgeous. And, as is so often the case when we travel, we are ever more aware of the incredible luxury of our lives in Canada.

Next stop is Quetzaltenango. Try saying that after a few cocktails!! In fact, the Guatemalan’s refer to it as simply Xela. It’s very confusing for us at first, wondering if we are going to the right town.

Tenango is a common suffix in Guatemala and is derived from the Nahuatl word for “place of”. The quetzal is the county’s national bird and local currency is called quetzales. Will we see a lot of quetzals in Quetzaltenango? Guess we’ll find out.