The Big Shabang!

Muy buenas noches a todos!

Be warned: it's been a month since my last post, so this entry will be a doozie.

In a brief, chronological summary, I spent the first full week of July teaching in Llano, taking Spanish and yoga classes, and enjoying a weekend excursion to a crazy yellow church in San Andres Xecul. Quickly thereafter, my normal routine evaporated as four friends came to visit us from the States and we embarked on a two week, two country whirlwind of a tour with a revolving cast of characters.

I'll start with my health education pictures. These niños just finished participating in our parasite activity, and they're demonstrating that their hands previously had flour on them, representing parasites/amoebas/worms/bacteria/microbes, and that they touched all their friends and most of the classroom, thereby contaminating everyone around. It's fun to be a fly and transmit diseases!


The parasite participants are first graders. The activity below is for second graders and covers 15 Rights of the Child, which can be a bit of a heavy theme to teach. Thankfully, there's a game involved. This student is consulting with Lee to choose his favorite 'derecho' and then will act it out in a manner clear enough that his teammates can guess which right it is, and thus garner themselves a point. The niños were more or less attentive.


Outside of presenting lessons in the Llano school, Scott and I stayed close to home in anticipation of our friends' arrival. The weekend before they all descended upon Guatemala, Scott and I took a bus about 30 minutes away from Xela to the town of San Andres Xecul. There's not much to the pueblo except a gaudily painted church, but the landmark is well known enough that it appears in murals across the country at Pollo Campero, the favorite national fried chicken chain.



I really liked the yellow facade, and there are all kinds of saints and angels dancing across the church's front as well. Also, note the beach ball shaped and colored dome painted in the background. Perhaps understandably, the rest of the church is painted white.

The real adventures began July 13th, when my best friend arrived from California by way of NYC and Miami. Three Rice amigos arrived that Thursday, and Scott and I set off on our 13-day adventure in style.

Our first stop was San Pedro on Lake Atitlan. We arrived Friday afternoon with only minor hitches (Caroline lost her luggage on a chicken bus earlier that day), and everyone survived their first encounters with the Guatemalan transportation system. We spent two nights in San Pedro, relaxing in hammocks, eating tasty food, overlooking the lake, and generally having a good time. Here are Ben, Caroline, Taylor, Jen, and Scott in front of a mural in the labyrinth of restaurants and cafes between the town's two docks:


We got up Sunday morning to visit Santiago Atitlan for its crafts market, and most of our friends were able to find some pretty souvenirs. By this point we had met up with Joe and Raul, my two former homestay brothers from Xela, and with our ranks swollen to 8, it was MUCH easier to catch a boat across the lake. We (everyone from Santiago minus Raul) pulled out of San Pedro for Antigua around 2 Sunday afternoon.

Antigua is one of my favorite cities, and since Scott and I were the only ones in our group who had been before, it was really fun to share it with our friends. Here's a group photo looking toward Volcan Agua (hidden behind the clouds the entire trip, sadly) through the Arco de Santa Catalina:


Look at Caroline in her huipil in the middle! Joe also bought some traditional clothing, but he's not wearing his shorts.

It was a bit drizzly both of our days in Antigua, but we had a delicious traditional Guatemalan dinner Sunday night, saw some live music later on, and were able to get up for a multiple-museum tour through a former Dominican monastery now converted into a 5 star hotel/series of museums. Here I am with Ben and Taylor in Cafe Sky overlooking Antigua on our second day:

Not too shabby of a view for a cocktail bar! We dined at a steakhouse Monday evening for our Rice friends' last night in Guatemala, and it was outrageously tasty. I hadn't had a filet since February and I'm not sure I've ever savored a steak so much. On Tuesday, Ben, Jen, and Taylor's flight wasn't until mid-afternoon, so we had time that morning to swing by the artisan market and visit the tomb of San Hermano Pedro, Guatemala's first saint, in the ruins of San Francisco monastery. Again, since we were a group of seven, we had no problem booking a private shuttle to Guatemala City that could take our departing friends to the airport, and Joe, Caroline, Scott, and I to the Fuentes del Norte bus station. It was such a treat to have the Rice gang visit, and I'm so thankful that Guatemala is close enough to justify long-weekend getaways from both my mother and my closest amigos.

Once arriving in Guatemala City and making it to the appropriate bus station, we met up with our friend Stacy and boarded the 12:30 bus for Rio Dulce, a 5-to-6 hour voyage towards the Atlantic coast. Stacy won the trooper traveler award that day since she had left Xela that morning at 6 and we didn't get into Rio Dulce until almost 7. The sun was setting as we pulled into the town, and it turns out we arrived just in time to see a thunderstorm roll in. While it would have been beautiful to watch a thunderstorm over a river that feeds into the Caribbean, our hostel was located downriver and is only reachable by boat, so we didn't need much hustling to hop into a lancha and speed down the river. It was an exhilarating ride in the dark, the only light coming from a flashlight the ayudante was shining from the boat's hull and the occasional bolt of lightning illuminating the sky. Perhaps not the safest mode of transport, but we did get to the hostel about five seconds before the deluge. Fortunately, our hostel was definitely worth the efforts we took to arrive. Treehouses in the swamp!


We collectively decided to relax the following morning. Here I am, in full vacation mode:


We booked a boat trip to Livingston, Guatemala's one Caribbean town, that afternoon, and our ferry took us by a castle!


The castle of San Felipe was built by the Spanish to protect against British pirates (Scott would say privateers) who would sail in to Guatemala to harass and plunder the Spanish colony. Ironically, the British ended up seizing the castle and looting even more of New Spain even more effectively. Our trip to Livingston also took us through a sea of lily pads:


I really liked Livingston. Most of the guidebooks list the town only perfunctorily and as a port from which to access Belize, but I enjoyed Livingston's vibe. The town is predominantly Garifuna, a culture descended from forcibly resettled slaves from St. Vincent's who spread across the Caribbean coasts of Guatemala, Belize, Honduras, and Nicaragua. They speak a language derived from Nigerian languages, Spanish, English, and French, and their music is percussion heavy and great to dance to. Scott made friends with four or five locals and became somewhat of a celebrity during our two days in town. We couldn't walk to the ATM without hearing "Escott! My man!", even from Livingston residents Scott had never met before. I took this picture because it illustrates how the mixture of languages and cultures so concisely:


Here are Scott and I on the Caribbean coast, getting ready for Jamaica:


We decided to take another day in Livingston so we could climb the Siete Altares waterfall and visit one of Guatemala's only white-sand beaches. Here's Scott at the top of the waterfall:

From the ocean, you hike about 30 minutes up a series of seven different waterfalls to reach the top. The 1930s Tarzan movie was allegedly filmed here as well. After dominating Siete Altares, we zipped through the Caribbean Sea to Playa Blanca, a private beach where we lolled about for the rest of the afternoon.


It was pretty relaxing, as you can see by Caroline, Scott, and Stacy's sprawling forms.

The next morning, we took a 7 am ferry to Punta Gorda, Belize. It was rather shocking to hear locals speaking English, actually, but we adapted quickly. We had breakfast in P.G. and discovered fry jacks, quadrangles of fried dough similar to beignets and sopapillas that Belizeans use to sop up food like Guatemalans use tortillas. Additionally, Belizeans drink dark beer! Here are Joe, Stacy, and Scott showing off their Belikin stouts. Culinary points for the day: Belize 2, Guatemala 0.


We spent our first night in Belize in Placencia, a quiet town about halfway up the Belize coastline and a two-hour bus ride from P.G. We took the Hokey Pokey Water Taxi (best company name ever) to reach Placencia from the highway, and we saw an iguana swimming in the mangrove swamp. It was one of the trip highlights for me. The following day, we took a miserably stuffy bus ride from Placencia to Belize City, stopping in Dangriga, a Belizean Garifuna town, and Belmopan, the least-developed capital city I have ever seen, before finally arriving in Belize's biggest city. We took a quick cab to the ferry terminal and soon after arrived in Caye Caulker, one of Belize's barrier islands situated on the reef. I wasn't surprised to see a Texan flag greeting us.


Caye Caulker was delightful, and we stretched our stay an extra day in part because of sunsets like this one:


Scott, Caroline, and I went snorkeling in the barrier reef on Sunday. It was a fantastic experience, even if I found it to be a bit frightening at times. Our guide repeatedly heckled a moray eel so that the eel would slither up to defend his territory and then wriggle back into its hideout - I didn't like that. Also, we stopped in 'Sting Ray Alley' where the manta rays and nurse sharks are so accustomed to people that they bump into snorkelers' legs looking for food - I didn't like that, either, and Scott held me safely above shark/ray height for the duration of our stop. Exploring brightly colored coral formations and rainbow fishes was much more my speed. Here's Caroline modeling the oh-so-glamorous snorkel mask:


Belize was amazing if expensive by Guatemalan standards. The example that I've been using is that a plate of lobster tails, mashed potatoes, and garlic bread, including unlimited rum punch and chocolate cake for dessert, cost $12.50 US to eat on a moonlit beach. A bargain at any price, really, but in comparison, Scott and I rarely spend more than $15 US on a week's worth of groceries in Xela. While we were reluctant to end our four days in Belize, we were very happy to get back on the quetzal currency, especially since we were en route to Tikal, the mother of all Mayan ruins.

We spent Monday traveling and spending money - it costs $18 US to leave Belize, and the Guatemalan border agents routinely charge travelers an unofficial (read: illegal) fee to re-enter the country. I sassed the border agent into stamping our passports free of charge and felt proud for asserting myself. Katy Miller: stamping out corruption one gringo tax at a time. We arrived in Flores that evening and promptly booked our shuttle to Tikal the next morning.

Our 6 am shuttle got us to the park around 7, and we had a hearty breakfast of beans, eggs, and tortillas before venturing into Tikal for the whole morning. Though I had visited the ruins last summer, I couldn't help but be awestruck by the sheer immensity of the structures. Here are Scott and I in front of Temple One, the first structure visitors see as they approach the main plaza:


Here I am also looking at Temple 1, but from the top of Lady 12 Macaw's (also a great name) tomb across the plaza:


Also, in contrast to the neatly landscaped Copan Ruinas in Honduras, Tikal is still very much in the jungle. Most of the trials have canopy cover, and we saw all kinds of toucans and spider monkeys. This is a glimpse of Temple 4 through the jungle:


The weather cooperated almost perfectly for our visit. The sun stayed behind the clouds for most of the morning, and it didn't start to rain until almost 1:30 when we were heading out anyway. The rain did bring a herd of pizotes out to forage for food, which was more amusing than anything else. Look at their tails wave as they run away from the tourist paparazzi!


Seeing the gang of pizotes was a memorable way to leave Tikal and wrap up our vacation. We returned to our hotel in Flores, took some much needed showers, and explored the island (the town is in the middle of Lake Peten Itza) until our overnight bus to Guatemala City pulled out at 9. Arriving in the capital around 6:30, we changed buses and headed back to Xela after almost two weeks on the road, exhausted but satisfied.

Resettled in Xela for the last couple weeks in Guatemala, our next few days will be spent tying up loose ends at the clinic and finishing as many health education lessons as we can, making sure we see all of our Xela friends at least once before flying out, and getting excited for our return to the US. I'll see if I can't get one more blog post in before leaving Xela.

Also, for those of you still reading this mammoth entry, I have an online article slated to appear on the Houston Chronicle's website this week. Here's the link if you're interested:
http://blogs.chron.com/rice360/

Gracias y nos vemos!

Besos desde Xela,
Katy

Los de Coban, solo mientan y se van....

Buenas noches!

I meant to write yesterday afternoon and get back into my Sunday blog rhythm, but we got a bit carried away with our 4th of July celebrations. Scott and I managed to convince a Guatemalan, a Spaniard, and four other Americans to spend 6 hours eating cheeseburgers and drinking beer with us in honor of the United States' Independence Day. Here's a photo of a British-American dual citizen, a Spaniard, and an American enjoying Guatemalan beer to celebrate July 4th:


How's that for globalization? Needless to say, the fiesta was great fun if not conducive to posting blog entries, as I think the last of our friends left the party shortly after midnight. I'm a little disappointed, actually, that I won't be around for the Guatemalan Independence Day celebrations in mid-September. Not content for only one bank holiday, the entire country takes a week to have parades and not go to school/work - it sounds like a blast.

Time has really flown since I arrived in Guatemala - today was my 141st day in the country, and I have only six weeks left before heading back to Atlanta. Even crazier, two weeks after getting home, I will be shipping off for an academic year in Kingston, Jamaica. Three countries in three weeks! Also, as if all that didn't constitute enough excitement, four friends are flying into Guatemala from the States to visit us next week, and we'll embark on a whirlwind 12-day tour of Guatemala and Belize. It's almost exhausting just to think about, but I'm beyond excited.

In light of the impending arrival of our gringo amigos, Scott and I decided to hang around Xela this weekend and save up some energy/enthusiasm for traveling. We celebrated the 4th on Sunday, but Saturday morning we rose and shone to climb Santa Maria volcano with 6 other clinic health educators and someone's medical student friend. This marked my third encounter with Santa Maria - the first endeavor ended in failure as my friend and I followed the incorrect trail and didn't make it to the summit, and the second attempt was under the guidance of a tour company leading us up the mountain at midnight so we could watch the sunrise from the top. I have to say, for me the third time was indeed the charm. The weather was beautiful and clear, I didn't have to wear all the clothes I own to protect against the pre-dawn chills on the volcano's face, and our entire group made it to the top in great form. Here are Scott and I on the way up:



You can see Xela and the Palajunoj Valley (where the clinic operates) in the background. And here we are at the top! Scott's on the right, and Lee, my health education partner, is on the left.


The peak immediately behind us is Pico Zunil, but the mountain further behind that, just peeping through the clouds, is San Pedro volcano on Lago Atitlan. The views were stunning. Also, Santiaguito waited for us to reach the top before erupting. We had been at the summit only long enough to eat peanut butter sandwiches before the show began:


And finally, here's Scott watching the clouds roll in from Mexico:


We were really lucky with the timing of our climb, as the clouds cooperated almost perfectly. We started hiking a little after 7 and reached the top around 10:15 and enjoyed some spectacular views. Within the hour, however, the clouds began massing and obscuring most of the views over toward Lake Atitlan, toward Mexico, and towards the Pacific Ocean. By the time we began our descent, the sight lines from the summit were almost all gone and the rain clouds were forming, too. I had just finished showering back in Xela when the thunderstorming commenced. All in all, a spectacular way to spend a Saturday morning.

Due to a series of vacations and bank holidays (a recurring theme in the school system), I've only taught health education workshops in the school twice since my last post. The schools were closed until Thursday of last week, so Scott and I were able to take a 3-day weekend to visit Semuc Champey with our friends Joe and Rachelle. On a map, Semuc Champey is about 200 miles from Xela. Our journey began at 3:30 am last Saturday morning, and we arrived at our hostel in Lanquin, a town thirty minutes from the Semuc Champey natural park, at 3 in the afternoon. It took us almost 12 hours to go 200 miles. Twelve hours! I can drive from Houston to Atlanta in that time. It only takes 8 hours to get to San Cristobal, Mexico, or Copan Ruinas, Honduras from Xela. The condition of Guatemalan transportation infrastructure is mind-blowing at times. Because there is no direct route between Xela and Semuc, or rather, the route that appears direct on a map is unpaved, we had to travel south from Xela to the capital (3.5 hours) in a bus, north again, but more easterly, to Coban (4.5 hours) in a pullman bus, and then east on gravel mountain roads to Lanquin (2 hours) in a minivan. However, when we arrived in Lanquin, we stayed in perhaps the coolest hostel ever. Straight-up Swiss Family Robinson:


Tree house dormitories! Also, since there were four of us and the dorms had four beds each, it was like having a private room for $4.50 per person. We had delicious kebabs for dinner - not particularly Guatemalan, but fantastic nonetheless - and headed to bed reasonably early so we could head to the Semuc Champey park the next morning. Semuc Champey is a nature preserve featuring a series of freshwater pools formed when most of the river Cahabon rushes into an underground cave. The gentle stream that remains above ground forms a chain of gorgeous turquoise pools, and the Guatemalan tourism board does a great job of producing posters enticing tourists to visit.

This photo captures Rachelle, Scott, and Joe beginning the trek up to the mirador, an lookout point in the jungle above the pools. The sign told us it would take an hour and fifteen minutes - we did it in less than half an hour.


Once reaching the mirador, we were able to take our own postcard-ready photos. Check it out:


And here I am with Scott:


When we descended from the mirador, we were able to see where the river enters the cave. Surprisingly, there was even a park ranger posted to warn tourists not to enter the cave themselves. He's the one wearing the orange vest below:


In contrast to the force of the river rushing into the cave, the pools above are tranquility embodied. I spent almost two hours dangling my feet and splashing around in this pool:


Here's another shot:


Really, if you're ever in central Guatemala with two or three days to play with and sufficient patience for some frustratingly inefficient transport, you ought to pay Semuc Champey a visit.

And finally, a group photo!


Semuc Champey and our hostel were awesome. Our return trip to Xela was less so - my wallet was stolen on the way back to Coban from Lanquin by our shuttle driver and his ayudante, both of whom sort of admitted to having taken my money and keys. Monday morning was spent yelling at them in front of their manager for five hours until eventually I recovered 80% of my money, but the keys are lost and gone forever. It was an unnecessary expense of negative energy, and the ordeal also prevented us from arriving back in Xela until almost 11 at night. Ugh.

On a happier note, Lee and I are having a fantastic time teaching in the school when it's open. Llanos de Pinal is eerily similar to Wayside School from the Louis Sachar books - I couldn't make up the level of disfunction we see daily. For example, a class of second graders has literally disappeared in the past two weeks - the classroom is locked and there are gumball machines inside. No one knows where the students are or what happened to the teacher. In addition, there is a kindergarten class housed in a shed, and a first grade class in the kitchen. The sixth graders today were busy installing a basketball goal, which mainly consisted of a group of boys swinging sledgehammers in the concrete courtyard, and a fourth grade class had its doors shut but was pumping out dance music on large speakers. Unbelievable. For attending school in such a loony bin, the students are actually pretty receptive to our health education lessons. Lee and I have been teaching about parasites this week, and the lessons consists of picking volunteers to be a Chief Parasite and two flies. The flies leave the classroom and re-enter with flour on their hands, then Lee and I pick them up so the students can 'fly' around the classroom contaminating walls, books, desks, and their friends by touching them and leaving a flour-y white handprint. In the mean time, the Chief Parasite wears a hat with googly eyes and antennas and supervises the whole affair, because flies and parasites work in tandem to make little kids sick :)

I will take pictures this week and post them with my next blog entry - this workshop might be my favorite so far. The niños are so enthusiastic, and I think we are able to convey a great deal of information concerning parasitic infections and methods of contamination through the activity, which is really the whole point.

All in all, life continues to go well in Xela. Un abrazo fuerte desde Guatemala,
Katy

In which Mom pays me a visit and many adventures ensue

Buenas Tardes!
I was going to see if I could make it three weeks and then write a giant post, but the upcoming weekend looks like it's going to merit a post of its own (how's that for suspense?). So although this entry will only cover the last 2.5 weeks, it's been an action-packed series of days.

Most excitingly, my mom came to visit me for a long weekend! She flew into Guatemala City on a Thursday morning, and I met her in the airport so we could travel together to Antigua. We stayed with Isabel and Jose, my host family from last summer, and although the bed we shared in our room was way tiny, the accommodations were perfect. We spent Thursday afternoon and all day Friday exploring the colonial capital - visiting ruins, climbing lookout points, having dinners on rooftops, touring working coffee fincas, and browsing crafts markets. For such a small town, especially one that I have spent over five weeks visiting/living in, it amazes me that there are still so many things I haven't done yet in Antigua. It was great to share those couple of days with my Mom, and I think Antigua was a good introduction to Guatemala and Central America.

Here we are on the Cerro de la Cruz overlooking the city:


A nice boy from Tulsa offered to take our picture. Below is a snapshot of our coffee tour vehicle - jostling and jiggling across the plantation definitely enhanced our tour experience.


From Antigua, we took a shuttle Saturday morning to Panajachel, Lake Atitlan. The ride was beautiful, and a bit more exciting than expected, too, as our van blew out its front tire and we had a thirty-minute tire-changing delay. Thankfully our driver was a skilled tire-changer.


After arriving in Pana and checking into our hotel, we took a lancha across the lake to meet up with Scott, Joe, and Emily for lunch in San Pedro, another lakeside pueblo. The views of the lake from the restaurant's porch were temporarily eclipsed by the US-England soccer match on tv, but half an hour later, we were able to go back to drinking smoothies and gazing at what Aldous Huxley deemed the most beautiful lake in the world.


My mom put up a good defense for Crater Lake in Oregon, but as I have never visited the Pacific Northwest, I will have to defer to her judgment for the moment. We then walked around San Pedro for a little while before ferrying back across the lake to Pana. We got rained on lightly during our last 15 minutes on the boat, but nothing too forceful, and we made it back to our hotel in plenty of time to shower before dinner.

Sunday morning, we each enjoyed a delicious and gigantic $3 breakfast of black beans, fresh cheese, tortillas, fruit, and coffee before taking an 8 am shuttle to Chichicastenango's market day. Chichi is the largest artisan market in Guatemala, and the Thursday and Sunday markets are something to behold. My mom and I managed to spend over four hours browsing the streets and streets and streets of stalls, and we also were able to find gifts for almost everyone on our list. The photo below was taken from the market aisle leading up to Santo Tomas church:


We slipped in the church's side entrance, as the front stairs were being used for traditional Mayan offerings and prayers, and we were able to observe a day of baptisms as well as a shaman performing some sort of ceremony with candles, flowers, and water inside the church. Conveniently enough, the rain held off until lunch time and we stayed warm and dry in a second-floor cafe overlooking the market. We took a 4 pm shuttle into Xela that evening.

Compared to Antigua, Lake Atitlan, and the Chichi market, Quetzaltenango isn't really much to write home about from a tourist standpoint. However, it was nice to show my mom where I've been living for the past four months and to give her a taste of a day in the life of an international volunteer in the Guatemalan highlands. Sunday evening, we had burritos, beers, and a cookie at a movie lounge/restaurant (a combination possible only in countries without copyright enforcement) and watched When the Mountains Tremble, a 1983 documentary about the Guatemalan armed conflict. Monday morning, my mom braved the chicken buses and got to see Primeros Pasos. Here we are in front of the clinic:


We spent the rest of Monday drinking hot chocolate, shopping in the produce market, visiting my Spanish teacher, dropping in on my former host family, skyping with my sister, and cooking chile relleños. All in all, a pretty representative weekday afternoon. The taxi came for us at 3:30 am Tuesday, and with only minor hassles, I was able to get my mom onto the first-class bus headed back to Guatemala City to start her trip back to Atlanta. A whirlwind visit, to be sure, but the highlight of my summer so far.

In clinic news, Lee (my education team partner, not my little brother) and I have been teaching Natural Disasters and Rights of the Child to second and third grade classes in Llanos del Pinal. I snapped this picture from the central courtyard of the school on a remarkably clear day:


Even though the school can be frustrating at times (absent teachers, teachers who don't care about teaching, pervasive machismo, 1300 kids running around with reckless abandon during recess, a 4-hour school day with a 60-minute recess, holidays taken at any pretext, etc.), at the very least its natural setting is breathtaking. Actually, my time teaching at Llano has been inspiring in the sense that teachers that do care about teaching are clearly making a difference in the lives of their students. It's evident which classrooms have conduct rules and high expectations, because the students are excited to learn and are generally more respectful to each other and to Lee and me. From a Teach for America perspective, then, it's encouraging to think about an individual teacher's power to positively influence elementary school students, but it's a shame that the infrastructure/corporate climate at Llano makes it incumbent upon the individual teachers to make this choice. The students would be far better off if there were school-wide high standards and expectations - as it is now, the quality of their education depends on the teachers' desire. If the students get stuck in a sub-par classroom, there is no system in place that ensures that they receive adequate instruction.

Stepping off my soapbox, the Natural Disasters workshop we present to the 3rd grade classes is a ton of fun. As a component of our 'what to do during a natural disaster' discussion, the students practice hiding under desks and covering their heads (as they would during an earthquake):


The students also have to practice what to do if floodwaters come:


Clearly, you'd rather be higher up than lower down in a flood situation, so we have the students practice scrambling on top of their desks. Also, we have extensive construction paper visual aids to help us present our theme when we're not shouting "Earthquake!" or "Flood!" as a signal for the students to hide under/climb on top of their desks. Here's Lee explaining how to prepare for a natural disaster:


As for our weekend adventure, Scott and I traveled to Nebaj with our friend Rachelle this past Saturday and Sunday. It took us 7 hours to get there Saturday morning, but only 5 to return on Sunday. As the crow flies, Nebaj and the Ixil triangle aren't far from Xela at all, but there's no direct road connecting the areas. We took a chicken bus to Huehuetenango (mostly north), a minivan to Aguacatan (mostly east), and minivan to Sacapulas (mostly east), and a chicken bus to Nebaj (mostly north again). Though tiring, the trip provided absolutely jawdropping scenery. From Huehuetenango and stretching along the Mexican frontier, the Cuchumatanes mountain range provides a stunning backdrop to the villages dotting the landscape. Scott and I were trying to decide if the Cuchumatanes were the most beautiful place we'd ever been, and I'm honestly not sure. The Greek Isles, Lake Geneva, and the Smoky Mountains certainly have some competition!

We got in about lunch time Saturday and had a satisfying lunch while watching the end of the 12:30 World Cup match. Our guide books informed us of a beautiful waterfall an easy walk outside of town, but the weather didn't permit us to explore. Here Rachelle and I are putting on our best pouty faces in the rain:


Also, heavy rain in a town without paved roads is a lot messier than the rain is in larger cities. Fortunately, we had extra clothes to change into after our drenching, and the rain only lasted a couple hours. Ever the intrepid group of travelers, we struck out on our own to hike through the surrounding countryside for an hour or so before dinner, and the hike rewarded us with even more spectacular vistas over the Cuchumatanes. Here are Rachelle and I, dryer and happier, along a ridge:



And here's a sample shot of the landscape. Look, we're in a cloud!


Sunday morning, we got up early to start a guided hike to Acul, a village just on the other side of a mountain from Nebaj. The whole region, but Nebaj and Acul in particular, suffered tremendously during the Guatemalan Civil War. Many estimates have over 25,000 deaths in the area, which is staggeringly high, since Nebaj today only has a population of 10,000 - and that's a very generous total. Our guide, Nicolas, looked to be in his 40s and was born and raised in Nebaj. He was able to share stories about the interactions between the guerrillas, the townspeople, and the army in the 1970s and 1980s during our hike, and his insight provided far more details and poignancy than any articles or academic texts we had read beforehand.

This is a view looking back toward Nebaj, about an hour into our trek:


And here I am, struggling to catch my breath:


We did a bit of off-road hiking, as well, although the on-road portion of our hike was certainly not up to American National Park nature trail standards. Here is Scott about to start slipping and sliding through a muddy cornfield:


And finally, here's Acul:


The town is much prettier from afar than inside the city. Interestingly, Acul is home to both Ixil-speaking and Quiche-speaking residents. The native Ixil population was mixed with forcibly resettled Quiche war refugees in the 1980s, and Acul was held up as a 'model village' by the national government for the rest of Guatemala to follow. I wasn't much impressed with the Acul's modernity or qualifications as a model town, but I think that reflects more on the government than the residents of Acul. Regardless, it was a beautiful hike and a lovely way to spend a Sunday morning, and the bus ride back to Nebaj took us around the mountain (instead of back over it), so we were able to see even more of the Cuchumatanes and the surrounding countryside of the Ixil Triangle.

After a packed microbus from Nebaj to Sacapulas (Rachelle and I had to sit on our jackets because the heat from the engine was toasting our tushes as we balanced on a ledge behind the driver's seat), a stuffed chicken bus ride back from Huehuetenango (Scott and Rachelle counted 86 people in the bus - that's 3 to a seat and then some), we were ever-so-relieved to make it back to Xela and get ready for our week in the clinic.

The schools in the Valley are taking this Thursday, Friday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday off to celebrate the teachers, which while nonsensical and unnecessary (in my opinion), will allow half of the education volunteers a three-day weekend. As Scott, Rachelle, and I are fortunate enough to be in this half, we have big plans to visit Semuc Champey, a nature reserve in the middle of the country un-visitable in a 2-day weekend and supposedly the most beautiful part of Guatemala. Hooray!

Hasta luego,
Katy