Antigua, Guatemala

Tuesday, 9/12/06 - Monday, 9/18/06

We finally arrived well after nightfall, after we began our trip at 6:30 AM from Honduras.

Antigua, our first stop in Guatemala, was a welcome change from the persistent heat and general “everything-but-the-beach-is-run-down-and-dirty” sense of Tela. While it was noticeably missing our good friends Francis and Doreen Rae, Antigua is a very pleasant, small town, with brightly colored shops and restaurants lining cobblestone streets.

I also liked how the colonial architecture shows up not only in majestic churches and old buildings, but also in the little restaurants and cafes that are often converted old mansions, with arched doorways and charming windows and plant-filled courtyards with fountains. The city, with a picturesque park at the center (complete with a fountain whose sculpture shoots water out of women’s breasts), is quaint and at the same time dramatic, because several volcanoes create a scenic backdrop, and centuries-old ruins of churches and other buildings destroyed in earthquakes sit right alongside popular hotels and restaurants. Antigua actually used to be the capital of Guatemala until a massive earthquake in 1773, after which the capital relocated to Guatemala City.

Central Park

Central Park

Central Park

Central Park

For a small city, Antigua has a lot of activity—it is always bustling with tourists, has a lively foreign backpacker scene, and the streets and park are always dotted with brightly colored Mayan women selling their woven crafts, jewelry and other goods.

We spent a lot of time in Antigua wandering around its streets, exploring cute cafes and restaurants, and sitting in the park, declining offers of weed made to Ross. We were also lucky enough to be in Antigua for Central American Independence Day, which was festively celebrated in the Central Park and streets. It culminated in a parade featuring a series of off-key marching bands. This prompted Ross to suggest, “More cowbell!”

Everyone is enjoying the parade...except the guy in the lower right corner, who has sinister plans in store for Antigua...

Ross and I also hiked an active volcano, Volcán Pacaya.

We woke up before sunrise and rode in a minivan shuttle up the mountain with the rest of our 14-person group, and then hiked up the mountain for two hours until we reached the “Caution: Dangerous fumes beyond this point. Pass at your own risk” sign. From there, we forged ahead for the final 30-minute climb up a steep slope of volcanic sand, slipping and sliding our way to the top. Every once in a while, people would call down to us, warning us of the volcanic rock just loosened by running lava that sent human-sized rocks tumbling down the slope across our paths. As daunting as that was, I was more worried about the people in front of me tumbling backwards and creating a snowball of tourists rolling down the mountain. Luckily, this didn’t happen.

Finally, we reached the top of the slope, at the edge of a massive bowl-like crater. Because Pacaya is active and has continuous eruptions, we couldn’t go up to the actual mouth of the volcano, but we did come face to face with red molten rock glowing from earlier eruptions. Ross took a normal picture, while I apparently thought an extremely awkward picture was in order.

Going back down the sandy slope was much more fun than climbing up. We basically just surfed/skied our way down. Then we emptied the black volcanic sand that filled our shoes, hiked down the rest of the mountain, and jumped in the van, where the driver awaited to transport us home with grace and dexterity. While getting into the driver’s seat, he somehow managed to trip, scrape the door on the curb, fall into his seat, and lay on the horn with a painful grunt, all in one swift motion – TRIC-SCRAW-FUMP-MEEEEEEP-UGH.

As we started on our drive, he slowed down to honk, nod, and/or wave at everything we passed. Ross and I decided to articulate his thoughts:

“Driving too, are ya’? Well…see you later!”

“Riding on a bike, are ya’? Well…see you later!”

“Leaning on a motorcycle, huh? Well…see you later!”

“Dumpin’ trash down the ravine, are ya’? Well…see you later!”

“Dog, are ya’? Well…see you later!”

“Ridin’ in the back of a pick-up, huh? Well…see you later!”

Somewhere along the way, out of nowhere, he pulled over to the side of the road. There were mountains in the distance, so he may have figured this was a good lookout point to admire the view – who knows? But since we were all exhausted, no one moved to get out of the car. Ross glanced at the flowers outside and said, “Flowers, are ya’? Well…see you later!”

When we trekked back to the hostel after our volcano trip, we ran into Kelly, Firuzeh, and their Guatemalan friend Julio, who were passing though Antigua for a couple days. Since it was the first time we'd seen Kelly since leaving Tegucigalpa, she exclaimed, “ Yay! You’re alive!” Amused by this greeting, Ross and I were inspired to make a list of ways we might have died between Tegucigalpa and Antigua:

-Got run over by bus.

-Fell out of bus window.

-Didn’t realize bus would stop; decided to jump out back door while bus was still moving.

-Got in the middle of a local gang war because of an ignorant social faux pas.

-Yelled at local store owners for not speaking English.

-Failed to pay at restaurant because we only carried US Dollars.

-Wore insect pheromone instead of insect repellent.

-Killed on tropical forest tour when wandered against guide’s warning.

-Said in a loud voice, “I have never seen so many stupid people in my life!”

-Accidentally called Honduras a “less developed” nation instead of something pretentious like “global south.”

Anyway, back to reality--we had lunch with Kelly, Firuzeh, and Julio and met with Kelly and Firuzeh later that night for dessert. That was fun, and on both occasions, after they had already hugged us goodbye, Ross and I noticed they started heading off in the same direction we were supposed to walk. To avoid an awkward, post-goodbye “oh, you’re headed this way too?” walk, Ross and I took off in the opposite direction to take the “scenic route” back to the hostel.

Overall, Antigua was just a pleasant, comfortable town to stay in for a few days.

Even internet cafes here have personality...and handsome devils.

Since it is a popular city among foreigners, a lot great places cater to a gringo-heavy crowd. Because of this, Antigua has a lot of English book exchanges, with thousands of used paperbacks strewn everywhere. The book selection was odd, ranging from great literature from Faulkner and Graham Greene to trashy series novels. Ross’s best discovery was the Phoenix Force book series--it stars an international team of five commandos fighting the Cold War and saving the world, one ridiculous top-secret mission at a time. For example, the Phoenix Force book I bought, “Weep, Moscow, Weep,” had a cover featuring its special ops agents (one of whom has a hook for a hand) crouching on top of a submarine. The back cover of the book draws the reader in with:

“Soviet Screwup!

“The Soviet Terror machine plans to spread mass malnutrition. Their insidious mandate: to starve the citizens of the free world into submission.” (This is supposed to occur through some deadly germ the Soviets develop that falls into the wrong hands.)

Ross actually read the book and discovered that the special operatives have their own special talents that emerge at opportune moments. For example, when confronted by enemy captives that were brainwashed to give false information under interrogation, Calvin James (the token Black “hard ass” from Chicago) remarked that perhaps only hypnotism could break them. One of the agents then turned to Calvin and said, “Wait! Aren’t you a hypnotist?”