lunes, marzo 01, 2010

Graffiti in Guate

Just a short photo-heavy post to show off some of the interesting graffiti I spotted, mostly in Xela:
"All of Guatemala resists and repudiates the murderous mining" -- this one in Guate City, Zone Ten, very near the ridiculously luxurious Oakland Mall.
This phrase is stenciled all over the place in Guatemala.  "Neighborhood organized against delinquency," which is the local term for any sort of crime or gang-related activity. Many of the neighborhoods that house foreign language students are especially prone to display these notices, and I can remember seeing the men at night with ski masks patrolling from their roof tops, looking for 'delinquents' late at night.
And this is a clever reversal of the phrase that has been stenciled several places in Xela; this one near the Maya Cafe, a block off the Central Park.  It says "Delinquents organized against the neighborhood."


Close-up

Another odd stencil that's popped up around Xela; this one across the street from Casa Babylon.
This interesting display is catty-corner to my laundry guy, on the back wall of the post office.
Another shot of the 'mural'

And a panorama shot of the entire thing.... really not sure what's going on, but it's certainly interesting!

viernes, febrero 19, 2010

Fuentes por bicicleta


When we're sick, our bodies tell us what to do to get better. I woke up yesterday feeling nauseous and slightly dizzy, so naturally my body said "Stay in bed! Watch movies and rest and don't move around too much!"

Unfortunately for my body, I had already made plans to make a bicycle trip to a natural hot spring about 10 miles from Xela. I'd been looking forward to the trip all week, and I saw it as my best opportunity to experience bike riding in Guatemala before I take the plunge and buy a bike in Santa Cruz del Quiché, the town I'll be living in for the next several months. So, tummy growling and without the benefit of an appetite, I decided to try and eat something so I wouldn't have to ride on an empty stomach. I figured bread would be nice and simple (and dry), and I've heard that strong, black coffee can also help with digestive problems (though I've also heard bad things about the caffeine; still, whenever there's conflicting medical advice regarding coffee, I side with the coffee!)

I went to my favorite place in Xela to eat bread: La Vienesa, a somewhat ironically named bakery/cafe that is probably as unpretentious as they come (I doubt there's ever been a true connection to Austria, and anyway chocolate comes from the Maya!). They sell only bread (their distinction is that they add yolks to the batter, which gives their bread a deep yellow color and much more flavor than the other guys) and small cups of coffee or hot chocolate, perfect for dipping the bread into. Normally I come to la Vienesa for the hot chocolate with milk and cinnamon, which is arguably the best in town (and much, much cheaper than the touristy places). Their coffee was far less exciting, but combined with a little bread roll it made for a minimalist breakfast of sorts.

After la Vienesa, I still had an hour to kill before my ride, so I went to my favorite coffee shop (El Cuartito) to order a pot of their "tea for nausea," which is actually a tea made of basil leaves. Who knew you could make tea from basil? It was ok, for herbal tea... mild, not a lot of flavor. It didn't help my nausea much, but I felt I had at least made an effort to treat my symptoms before embarking on a potentially disastrous trip.

The other riders -- two girls from the University of Utrecht in the Netherlands -- and I met at the travel agency at 2 pm, where our guides loaded the mountain bikes and helmets (yes! apparently they do sell them here, somewhere!) into a pickup truck. We all hopped in the back and rode toward Almolonga, a bustling K'iche' town just south of Xela that is somewhat famous for its high agricultural output (I've heard that they're considered the breadbasket of Central America because they export a lot of veggies to El Salvador and Honduras). Just before Almolonga, we mounted our bikes and began the easy part of the ride: downhill, into the valley of Almolonga and through the neighboring (and far poorer) community of Zunil (home to the religious icon San Simon, a classic example of the blending and evolution of Catholicism and pre-contact indigenous religion). Although I enjoyed the ease of downhill riding, I knew that every meter of descent would have to be regained in ascent once we began the climb to las Fuentes. The hot springs are located nearly at the top of a short mountain ridge on the southern side of Zunil. We dismounted and walked our bikes up the very steep cobblestone streets of Zunil, and rejoined the paved road that would take us all the way up to the hot springs.

This second half of the trip was painful. Uphill, all the way, with barely any flat or downhill breaks in the terrain. Shortly after we began, I decided to try and eat one of the cherry pie larabars I brought along for the ride -- I knew I'd need some calories to work with, or I'd never make it. I split it with the guide and las chicas holandesas, one of whom gave me half a banana in return. I still had no appetite, but I managed to eat them anyway. We continued along the route and fell into a pattern of me bringing up the rear and meeting the others periodically where they stopped to wait for me and rest. I kept my bike in first gear for the entire climb, and probably single-handedly added half an hour or more to the total trip time. Still, I'm pretty proud that I was able to finish at all. And I can attest that bathing in the hot springs is all the more wonderful when you have to work so hard to reach them!

I neglected to take any photos at the Fuentes (gimme a break, I was relaxing!) but you can see some at their website: http://www.lasfuentesgeorginas.com/ Suffice it to say it is a paradise, and when I waded across the pool to the little trickling water fall that is the source of the hot water, I knew that life is beautiful and humans belong in the world.

Here are some photos I took halfway up the climb, looking down at the farm plots outside Zunil:



The lettuce growing just beside the road was looking healthy (though I had no desire to eat it or any of the other veggie patches we passed; especially the fragrant onions that contributed to my nausea). This lettuce may be coming to a grocer near you:


My co-riders:

lunes, febrero 01, 2010

New Year's Up North Part 1: The Great Outdoors






In keeping with a new tradition, I flew up to Michigan to spend New Year's Eve with K.  This year, we joined a bunch of friends and family Even Further Up North in the land of the Cherry Republic.  K picked me up at the airport in Chicago, which was little worse off than St Louis in terms of wintry weather.  Then we headed around the bottom of the Lake and up up up -- north toward Traverse City (the finger tips of the Michigan hand map), toward a region that must've been settled by the pioneers who were cast out of the groups that stayed further south. I gave up driving duty as soon as we reached the point where ice has probably covered the highway uninterrupted since mid-August.  Apparently, Northern drivers learn to adapt to the sliding and keep driving anyway.  Bravo, yanks! Personally, I don't even like driving in the rain; I think I'll let K stick to the northern winter driving duty (especially when we're in her car!).



I thought that living in St Louis over the past couple of colder-than-average winters had helped me acclimate to northern climates, but the sheer magnitude of wintry material in this region was unlike anything I've ever imagined.  At one point I looked out the car window at a huge field covered in an infinite array of snow and wondered what it would be like to be dropped off in the middle of it.  I'm not sure I can imagine a more bleak scenario... I'm not a good swimmer, but I think I'd prefer to be dropped off in the middle of an ocean.  At least there would be sharks to give me a quick ending. True, from an aesthetic point of view it's a marvelous thing -- nature seems incredibly still and tranquil when everything's covered in snow, when the trees glisten with ice as if they're coated in glass, and your breath has that winter-fresh thing going on, even if you haven't had a mint in days. And the kid in me still enjoys stomping around in the snow, pulling giant icicles off the overhangs and then tossing them like spears to smash into a tree (I don't think anyone witnessed this primal child-like behavior, thank goodness).  But it's not the sort of outdoors environment that's exactly welcoming in any sense; it's only enjoyable if you've got a pack full of REI gear to keep your bum toasty and your feet dry. I think I'll always be an Autumn person; there's something about September-October (back home, that is; even St Louis is far too cold by October) that beckons you to sit outside and just be. Winter, on the other hand, teaches us to appreciate the cozy indoors (of which I'll write much more in the second part of this blog). There's really nothing like a pot of coffee or hot chocolate after a hike through a frozen forest.

On to the photos...


I took this picture of Lake Michigan (or Superior? help, K?) while being blasted in the face by freezing wind at the top of a hill.  I think it may have been the coldest I've ever been in my life. Despite wearing multiple layers, the wind still chilled me to the bone. The rest of the hike was pretty normal-- I even took off my gloves for most of it because I got sweaty, but then I got cold after Riley and Bailey pretended to be stuck in a snow bank just long enough for me to climb in after them.

This was our mascot for most of the hikes, Erin and Ryan's dog Renley.  There's some magical relationship between dogs and snow; it reminds me of when I was a little kid and I got really excited whenever I woke up and saw snow outside covering everything in a fluffy white blanket of fun.



This is Renley's mommy, Erin. 


K :)


And...smiling! :D

Chilly creek flowing...this was one of those peaceful scenes that makes you forget for a moment that it's really frackin' cold outside.



Ryan, Renley's dad. 


Isn't the trail really clear and easy to see in this photo?


K really liked this view of the trees on the other side of a clearing 


Same shot without zoom... perhaps you had to be there, but it was a very serene moment (despite the presence of a burly hunter guy with his rifle a few hundred meters away. Bah.)

This last one makes me happy :)  Not sure if it's because of K or the coffee ;)