March 11, 2009

I feel like time is going by faster than I can take note of it. I close my laptop and the next time I open it so much has happened that the idea of documenting it in some comprehensive, or at least coherent way becomes overwhelming. But I continue trying.

Annie came and I met her at the airport. We went to Antigua immediately as to avoid further exposure to the unsavory Guatemala City. Despite her reputation as a library creature she agreed to hike up Pacaya, the active volcano where you can get up close and personal with some lava. 3 weeks before, 3 woman had become too personal with the lava and had to be med-evac'ed out with some molten burns. We were part of a big group and didn't get as close as we had hoped, but it was still pretty impressive. The clouds, which had limited visibility to 20 feet or so, parted just as the sun was setting to give us an over the clouds look out and allowed us a better view of the lava careening down the next ridge. On Pacaya we met Reuben and Tom, who, you just wait, will reappear later in the story.

Annie had made it clear that her intention was to be on a beach, and so the next day we headed to Monterrico, where a guy we had met at Finca Ixobel owns a hotel. Great little town, good cabana filled compound on the beach, and overall a nice place to spend a few days. Between slack lining, beach volleyball, almost nightly games of poker and lots of hammock swinging, we were all kept pretty content. Reuben and Tom were there, too, and we had a massive night of cooking and good times hanging out with them. After buying a fish from the local fisherman, I asked if they might need some help the next day. They said that they would be happy to have me come along and the next day I set out on the choppy seas to help them pull their nets. The first fish we caught was a 25lb catfish looking thing called a tacasunte. It was pretty extraordinary in size, and so they agreed it must have been my luck and thought that I should be called James Tacasunte (which replaced the James Bond that we had agreed on just before).

Annie managed to find her way back to the airport, Rory was busy looking into real estate in Sweden, and Tom was headed to Guate to meet up with his fiancé, so Reuben decided to saddle up and we took off the next day for the famous, high-altitude, volcano-ringed Lake Atitlan.

After some bumpy buses we arrived to Panajachel, the largest lake town, and got on the first boat to San Marcos, a couple of miles (est.) down. San Marcos is an idyllic little place, the lower half traversed only by walking paths under a canopy of avocado, coffee, and tangerine trees. It's known for its homeopathic hippy scene, and apparently we weren't the only ones to find it agreeable, as all of the cheap accommodation options had filled up. As I was walking to scout out what we thought was out last reasonable hope, I met Sara and John Spring. Instead of having me hike up the hill to see if there were any beds available, they immediately offered a house that they were building, warning that it did not have electricity. Pressed for options, I jumped at it and after reconnecting with them, finding the key, etc, we were shown our house for the night. A cool little house in the woods (of fruiting trees), Reuben and I were happy to settle down on the plywood floors for a game of set and a slumber.

Bony hips of hard floors always make for a less than restful night, but the next morning I was more concerned with something that I had eaten. Still not sure what it was (although I have a list of suspects), I was not feeling so hot in the morning. I knew I wasn't too bad, though, because I felt well enough to thoroughly enjoy a projectile vomit from the second story door (to a porch that had not yet been built). It must have soared ten feet and would have made a great video, I remember thinking, prideful.

A full day in bed at the hostel we had moved to and I was back on my feet the next day. Then, as if competitively mimicking, Reuben got sick the next night and outdid my sickness in every measurable category. If we were competing in a triathlon, he ran faster, jumped higher, and definitely threw longer. Except by winning, he definitely lost.

He's still limping back to health, and he better hurry. I say that because we have left cliff jumping, coffee growing, murder happening (didn't mention that, did I!) Lago Atitlan and are now in the higher highlands of Quetzaltenango (Xela). That in itself is not motivation to get better, but the full moon ascent of the second highest volcano in Central America is. We've met back up with Rory and plan to scramble up this mountain tonight. From the top we will look down on the most active volcano in Guatemala (erupts every hour) and will be privy to a pretty spectacular sunrise, clouds permitting. The top is right around 12,000ft and gets damn cold + windy, so should make for a good adventure. On the form you fill out to sign up there is a box asking whether or not you have travel insurance. After checking “NO,” I thought that might be a good thing to rectify. After climbing the volcano, of course.