Why Would Anyone Want to go to Guatemala?
May 8, 2009 by Jan Myers
Filed under Featured, Travel and Experiences
Before leaving on my trip, I tried to assure my friends and myself that Guatemala was safe. But now, as I spied the loaded revolver stashed in a pot of geraniums in the courtyard of my Guatemalan hotel, I wasn’t so sure.
And then there was the comment I overheard at the airport before I boarded my plane. As a young man passed by my gate he asked his companion, “Why would anyone want to go the Guatemala?”
As I stared at the gun, anxiety overtook me.”What am I doing here?” I thought.
I tried to calm these panicky thoughts by filling my mind with all the peaceful and genuinely friendly local people I had met so far in this beautiful country.
First, I remembered Pedro, a man in the village market of Solola who said, “It makes my heart happy that you are coming here to Guatemala to visit. It is good for the people.”
Then there was Sara Noemi who was selling weavings. As I showed her photos of my children, we bonded even without being able to speak the same language. While we talked, a little girl who said her name was Jandi came up to show me an intricate lace weaving. I told her my name was similar to hers and that made her laugh.
In that same market in Solola, I met Jeremy, a delightful 12-year-old salesman. I bought a necklace and a toy chicken bus from him and he flashed a huge grin complete with dimples. I ran into Jeremy once more in the Chichicastenango market where he smiled again as he sold me a couple of multi colored woven headbands.
Another Mayan village on the shores of Lake Atitlan, Santa Catalia, revealed more amigos. At the primary
School Girl in a small Lake Atitlan Village
school there I met a classroom full of six-year-olds.
Rosa, Claudia, Rosenda, Juana, Carlos, Mayra and Norma, eagerly gathered around me laughing as I showed them the photos I had taken of them on my digital camera.
On up the street in that same village was the small home of a weaver named Sylvia. She was weaving on a backstrap loom. I pointed to the glittery, purple woven liston she wore on her head. I asked her how much. “125 quetzales,” she said. We bartered a bit to settle on a price and then she removed it from her head and wove it around mine.
As I looked around at her simple one room home, I noticed a bed, a wooden dresser, a table and a soap opera on the television. Sylvia seemed happy with her life. She smiled as I left and thanked me. As I walked through that village, several local heads turned and laughed to see a blond gringo with a liston on her head.
I thought of the sisters who road on our tourist boat for a whole day on Lake Atitlan. Dalila, 14, and Selena, 12, were peddling
the weavings of their mother, Sionas. I noticed Dalila’s worn purple toenail polish matched the horizontal purple stripes in her long black skirt. The girls shared with me that they have nine brothers and sisters and they all work on the small family farm raising corn and chickens. Dalila and Selena grinned broadly as I showed them pictures of my family, especially my 13-year-old son, Maxx.
Dalila and Selena
In my mind, I also recalled Clementina who worked with the soap co-op in San Juan La Laguna. These Tz’utujil Maya women provide community health care services in their village by making and selling a line of soap and ointments made with the medicinal plants they grow locally.
In that same village, I met Pascual Hermandez Mendoza, president of the fishermen’s association who beamed as he explained that his group was a friend of peace. “We are the guardians of the reeds,” he said. “We are committed to save the nature of the lake and to be models for other communities. I hope you spread news to others to visit us.”
I also met eight-year-old Anna Candaladia, who happily showed me a copy of a tourist map for her village of Santiago Atitla’n. Her picture was on the cover of this map and she grinned as she held it up next to her face for me to take a photo.When I showed the hotel manager where the gun was, he picked it up, and said with embarrassment that it belonged to one of the security guards.
I later learned the security guard in question had stashed the gun in the flower pot as he stooped down to tie his shoes and had forgotten it there!
Throughout the rest of that day, I began to realize that finding the gun had forced my own uncertainties and fears to the surface. Yet, I had overcome those fears by coming here to follow my dream of traveling and writing. In the process, I had made a lot of friends in this “dangerous” country.
I couldn’t wait to tell everyone back home the truth about this country and especially its people. Why would anyone want to go to Guatemala? I can give you dozens of reasons—most of them involving the smiling faces of my new friends. I knew I’d be leaving my fears in Guatemala, and taking home a new sense of confidence and peace.
Accunnigo on Sat, 16th Jan 2010 12:01 am
Hi Snowboarders
Was at Mt Pinos Ski .
Anyone been there last week?
Used to be in in the midwest and ,
I liked, like Snow Creek Ski and Hidden Valley Ski Missouri
L8r