Correr Es Mi Destino » Snapshots

Beach Bumming in Tulum

Zhu — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 01:23:49 +0000

For our last few days in Mexico, we decided to be beach-bum. An easy decision to make considering how great the coastline is in Quintana Roo, and how cold it will be when we go back to Canada.

From Valladolid, we bused back to Tulum. Back in December, when we stopped there, I was amazed by the great beach but I naively thought most of the Caribbean would be like that. I was wrong. Utila, in Honduras, had clear waters but no beach—we swam from a pier. Placencia and Dangriga had small beaches but the sand was very coarse and the water was dirty. San Pedro and Caye Calker had good shallow water but sea grass was a problem.

Tulum is truly unique. It has everything: talcum powder sand, clear and clean water and a long stretch of sand. It’s not too busy either, which is a plus in my book.

Even the village, 8 kilometres from the beach, is laid back. All things considered, for such a touristic place in Mexico, cost of living is quite low. We can have lunch for two for about 100 pesos (less than $10). And beach bumming doesn’t cost a cent—except litres of water and jugo de toronja because it gets hot under the sun!

Tulum Playa

Not Scared At All

Tulum Playa

Back to the Maya World: Chichén Itzá

Zhu — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 14:00:56 +0000

And we are back in Mexico for the final leg of the trip–one more week to go.

Crossing the border turned out easier than planned, as we discovered there was a boat from San Pedro to Chetumal. We didn’t even have to backtrack to Belize City—a 90 minute-long ride, a smooth one this time, took us across the border.

As soon as the boat arrived, we jumped on the quay and were told to stand in line, a few feet behind our backpacks. The military and a trained dog inspected our luggage but no one traveled with a few pounds of cocaine so we were let go quickly. At the other end of the spectrum, the migracíon officer didn’t even bother looking at our passports—he just stamped them without checking our IDs.

From Chetumal, we jumped in a bus to Tulum, three hours away. We somehow got a chicken bus that stopped everywhere. “Directo” in Mexico doesn’t mean “direct” as in “this bus won’t stop every five metres to pick up passengers on the ride of the road”, it means that you don’t have to change bus to reach your destination. Semantics…

By the time we arrived in Tulum, we were starving and tired and we didn’t accomplish much other than eating quesadillas and marveling at the modern convenience stores. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a franchise person and I’m not a huge consumer in general. But we hadn’t seen a real convenience store (and much less a well-stocked supermarket) since southern Guatemala. Most stores in Belize and Honduras are just little tienditas where products aren’t always fresh. And I’m not buying yogurts unless I take them from a fridge that is actually plugged in and actually cold.

From Tulum, we headed to Valladolid—more on that later as soon as I learn how to pronounce the name of that city properly. Our first stop was of course in Chichén Itzá, a few kilometres away.

Chichén Itzá is probably the most famous and most visited Maya archeological site. The main temple is one of the icons of Mexico and it never fails to impress. We’ve been there three times and I’m still in awe!

Because Chichén Itzá is easy to access (unlike Tikal, for instance), you have to share it with hordes of tourists from Cancún. It does get very crowded and the parking lot was packed with tour buses. You can’t climb any of the structures anymore (we did in 2001!) which is kind of a shame.

Another annoyance was the number of tacky souvenir stalls in the site. Usually, in such places, souvenir stalls are outside or right at the entrance—it used to be like that in Chichén Itzá anyway. But now, stalls are lined up between each structure and it feels like walking in a market. Every two metres, someone tried to sell us plastic “Maya” masks and other tacky stuff. I know, the sellers are only trying to make a living, but it doesn’t make the site very enjoyable when you have to say “no gracias” every two minutes. I wonder if there are more sellers this year because of the whole “2012 end of the world” prediction?

Regardless, it was great to be back at Chichén Itzá and we enjoyed it despite the buzz.

Arriving in Mexico, Chetumal

Road Block in Mexico (one of many!)

Chichen Itza

Chichen Itza, The Main Temple

Lazy Lizard on Top of the Pyramid

Chichen Itza

The Only Round Building in the Maya World

: Chichen Itza

: The Ball Court

: Skulls

: The Ball Court

Chichen Itza

The Ball Court

Chichen Itza

No related posts.

Ambergris Caye, San Pedro and La Isla Bonita

Zhu — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 19:00:49 +0000

If you don’t want to have a song stuck in your head for the rest of the day, do not read any further.

Last night I dreamt of San Pedro
Just like I’d never gone, I knew the song
This is where I want to be
La Isla Bonita

Apparently, some twenty years ago, Madonna had a good time in Ambergris Caye, Belize. And I only realize the song referred to that San Pedro (there are tons of them in Latin America!) tonight.

A few days ago, we woke up in Caye Calker, tired and sick of a place we couldn’t recognize anymore. What next? We had planned to stay on the island for a few days before heading to Mexico. We still had some Belize dollars left but Belize is a small country and it seemed like we had been everywhere but in one place: Ambergris Caye, 40 minutes away.

Originally, Caye Calker was the backpacker hangout while Ambergris Caye, more developed and bigger, catered to richer people. We shrugged the stereotype off and hopped on the boat. “It’s like going from Ko Phi Phi to Phuket,” we joked. We knew what to expect: a touristic place with all the amenities.

But we managed to be surprised.

Ambergris Caye is big. San Pedro, the village, lies in the middle of the narrow island. The north and the south sides are home to condos—some finished, most in various stages of completion—and gated properties. The few main streets are paved, street food and souvenirs stalls congregate around the main square.

But unlike Caye Calker, San Pedro was quiet. We found a budget hotel easily and walked north along the shore in search of a good patch of sand to sit down and relax. There were plenty under the cool shade of coconut trees. In some places, we had a stretch of beach to ourselves, in other, we shared it with locals—not tourists.

I guess it’s the irony of such places. Tourists stick to their resorts: they eat there, swim there, sleep there. At most, they hit local bars where booze is cheaper. We barely saw them. By staying in San Pedro where the locals actually live, we had access to a few cheap restaurants, supermarkets and almost unspoiled stretches of beach.

I can deal with that!

The sea was too shallow for a good swim but perfect for feet-dipping. From the piers, we spotted a few stingrays, including three or four who swam right to the shore to pick up some left-over fish. They were huge and alien-looking with their big eyes.

The sea was Caribbean blue with darker patch where the seagrass was and lighter patch where it was deeper. In the horizon, we could see the waves breaking over the reef barrier. It was just breezy enough.

It was pretty damn close to being perfect.

San Pedro was also much more laid back than I had expected. Maybe it was because we were in the village, away from the resorts. In a way it reminded me of Cancún. Yes, the stretch of beach is touristy but Cancún centro still looks like a Mexican town.

The couple of days we ended up spending in la “isla bonita” made it up for Caye Calker, our lost paradise.

San Pedro

Caribbean Sea

San Pedro Church

The Main Square

Under The Coconut Tree

Tan Feet

San Pedro

Seegrass and Blue Water

San Pedro Beach

Seashells

Have a Bloody Good Day Mate

Seashells

Two Maradonas

From the Bridge

San Pedro Woman

Stingrays by the Shore

The Boy, the Pelican and the Stingray

San Pedro Beach

San Pedro Beach and a Rainbow

Belize License Plate

Utila and the Bay of Islands

Zhu — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 00:12:14 +0000

Some places are disconcerting, and it’s hard to pinpoint why.

I guess Utila is one of them.

From San Pedro de Sula, we took a bus to La Ceiba, three hours away. Ah, San Pedro… Great place but for the fact it’s boiling hot and that it’s not safe at all at night. When we woke up, before going to the bus station, we looked for some food because we were starving. No luck. Not a panadería in sight. We bought a few cookies and a Coke at the bus station.

When we arrived in La Ceiba at 1:00 p.m., we realized the bus terminal wasn’t much of a terminal—there wasn’t even a bathroom, much less some food around. We took a taxi to the boat terminal. There, same story: it was in the middle of nowhere and there was no food but for a small convenience store.

It was 2:00 p.m. and the boat to Utila wasn’t until 4:00 p.m. Trust me on that one, not the most interesting wait. It was extremely hot and we just sat around outside with our backpacks. Hungry, on top of that.

The Princess II, the boat that travels twice a day between La Ceiba and Utila, is dubbed the “vomit comet”—no need to explain why. We were the last ones to board and I ended up seating outside, at the back of the boat.

I’m lucky to be very comfortable on boats and in the water in general but I can see why so many people get seasick. It was a tough hour-long ride, against the wind and against the waves and the boat, despite its size, wasn’t steady at all.

Before boarding, we were a bit worried because accommodation is quite limited in Utila and that there seemed to be quite a few gringos going to the island. But we quickly understood that except for a handful of backpackers, the rest were foreigners living in Utila. In fact, in the boat, people all seemed to know each other. We even left 30 minutes late because a family called the captain to delay the departure until they arrived.

We found a hotel easily on the Main Street and quickly realized that Utila may not be our paradise. For a start, it was much more developed than we thought it’d be. I guess in my mind, Utila was going to be like Caye Calker (a small island in Belize) or Ko Muk. Scratch that. Although not big in size, Main Street was jammed with golf carts and motorbikes and a stroll turned into a “watch behind you” game. The number of dive shops and the somewhat aggressive marketing reminded me of Ko Phi Phi. Finally, it didn’t feel like being in Honduras—or anywhere in Central America for that matter. Spanish isn’t the first language but English is by default. I had expected a mix population of Latin and Black Caribbean—it turned out that Utila was mostly gringos owning businesses.

It felt strange. It felt like stepping into a dorm where everyone has been living there for months. People weren’t exactly warm and welcoming. In a way, it reminded me of the movie “The Beach”: a bunch of gringos building their community and preventing other people from joining it. To add to the impression, a lot of women looked like the crazy British girl in said movie.

On our first day, we decided to go to one of the two beaches—a logical and not-so-innovative idea on an island. We picked a side and started walking until we found the beach. “Apparently you have to pay,” I told Feng when I read the sign at the entrance. We were confused and stepped in to have a look. Two minutes later, a big fat guy called us out. “I need some money from you. 120 lempiras.” “Sorry, I’m confused,” I said. “Is that a private beach?” He didn’t even bother replying and gestured us to get out. Which we did. I’m certainly not paying 120 lempiras ($6 but also the price of a good meal here) to go to the beach.

So we walked to the other side of the island, where we found a public beach. Well, kind of. A metre-width strip of sand, infested with sand flies. If you haven’t had the pleasure to meet these little bastards, let me introduce you to them: sand flies are tiny creatures, barely bigger than a grain of salt, but they bite like mosquitoes and leave red itchy marks on the skin.

So we ran to the sea to avoid sand flies. Forget about lying on the beach! The water was shallow and amazingly clear, and all kinds of fishes swam around us right at the shore. “It’s like being in a fish spa!” I joked.

Because there are a few upsides to Utila. I don’t want to be so negative. While it’s not the paradise I had expected, the sea is great and the water is very clear. You can spot all kinds of creatures, including huge crabs right by the sidewalk at night. The sunsets are amazing. The guesthouse where we are staying has a small pier with a bench and a couple of hammocks and I could spend my days there. I like the weather: it’s very hot but still breezy. Like in most islands, the dress code is lax and I just bum around in a light dress, sweat tricking from my forehand, my hair messy and tangled because of the humidity.

So Utila isn’t what we expected. It’s certainly not the place where I’d overstay—I don’t like the vibe and I don’t like feeling like I’m an intruder (an impression we’ve never felt in places like San Pedro for instance).

But we are travelers. I don’t regret coming here because that’s what traveling is all about: seeing places first-hand, past the hype.

Utila isn’t paradise. But maybe the next stop will. Who knows?

Beach in Utila

Sunset in Utila

Waiting for the Boat in La Ceiba

Leaving the Mainland

Arriving in Utila

On the Pier

Sunset in Utila

Utila

First Beach (the private one!)

Clear Water

Public Beach

Fishes in Clear Water

Chepes Beach

Main Street

Welcome to Utila

On the Pier

Sunset in Utila

Copán Ruinas

Zhu — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 02:00:28 +0000

The biggest attraction in Copán is the Maya archeological site nearby. While Tulum mostly draws people because of its amazing location by the sea and Tikal is loved because it’s set in the jungle, Copán is somewhat more mysterious. Historian compare Tikal to New York and Copán to Paris: the first one has the buildings, the second focuses on the arts.

Indeed, Copán was occupied for more than 2,000 years and is famous for its elaborate sculptures. The most famous structure is probably the Hieroglyphic Stairway, whose 62 steps are made of 2200 glyphs that together form the longest known Maya hieroglyphic text. It is still being reconstructed today.

Little was said about the various glyphs so Feng and I tried to imagine what the site must have looked like at the height of the Maya empire.

Meanwhile, we enjoyed a good hike in the jungle, complete with huge spiders everywhere. We were also amazed by the huge trees, which trunks were several metres long in diameters. If only trees could talk… they must have seen a lot through the centuries!

Copan Ruinas

Huge Spider Web

Copan Ruinas

Coffee, Jesús and the Lake

Zhu — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 00:52:55 +0000

San Pedro is one of these places from where it’s hard to leave. While we have no desire to bum here for months like some gringos do, we grew to like our little routine over the past few days. Breakfast (usually a lengthy affair considering anytime you order food, it takes about an hour to have it ready), a long walk either in one of the surroundings villages or in San Pedro, a quick drink and snack somewhere, then back to the hotel for sunset to upload the pictures. In the evening, we check our emails, go eat somewhere, walk some more, watch TV and read. We pass out around midnight and don’t wake up until the dogs bark and gallos go crazy in the morning.

Hard to find a more relaxing place.

Today, we went to explore more of San Pedro, including the actual village uphill. I was amazed by the number of churches and religious messages written on the walls. “Busca a Dio” (look for God), “Jesús, la única solucion” (Jesus, the only solution), “Solo Jesus puede cambiar su vida” (Only Jesus can change your life) etc. The atheist in me just doesn’t get it.

I know that Latin America is big on religion and that it is part of the culture, probably like it was in Europe a few decades ago. Part of me sees no problem in it: after all, the country is coming out of a long civil war (this year is the fifteen-year peace anniversary). Maybe religion helped people overcoming the scars of the war and unite the country. I’m not a believer but I don’t actually mind religion(s). To each his own—some believe, some don’t, and I have no desire to convince people God doesn’t exist as long as no one tries to convince he does.

Yet, part of me hopes that religion won’t be a quick fix for all the local issues. I was reading the newspaper today and it turns out to be an interesting exercise, both linguistic and sociological. The paper here is full of stories of murders, traffic accidents and drug busts. On one page, readers commented on what they hoped for the country in 2012 (aside from the end of the world, cf the Maya calendar). Pretty much all mentioned something along the lines of “people should follow the Christ”, “crime happens because people don’t respect God’s will” etc.

I’m pretty sure they are a lot of people in death row who swear by the Bible or whatever other religious book. And that believing in God isn’t a license to do good.

I don’t know why the murder rate is so high in Guatemala. But I’m sure as hell—pun intended—that it’s not because people don’t go to church enough. I tend to believe in the Marxist explanation, but again, maybe it’s another religion as well…

After following Jesus’ path for a short time (climbing to heaven was tiring), we went back to the lakeshore where we took the coffee path. Close to the Santiago dock, hundreds of coffee beans were been laid to dry on plastic sheet. On the other side of the lake, close to the Panajachel dock, we saw the actual beans, still on the trees. Of course, I took pictures, like the gringa I am.

God and a Chick(en)

San Pedro Church

Coffee Beans

Bananas

San Pedro Church

Jesus, the Only Solution

Jesus, El Senor de San Pedro

More Jesus Murales

Coca Cola

Street of San Pedro

Going to do Laundry

Doing Laundry in the Lake

Maya Women

Doing Laundry

Letting Coffee Dry

Coffee Drying

Coffee Bag

San Pedro Coffee

Coffee

Coffee Beans

Villages Around Lago de Atitlán

Zhu — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 00:47:31 +0000

Around the picturesque Lago de Atitlán, each village has its own “vibe” and population.

We are staying in San Pedro, which is probably the most laid-back village. Gringos congregate around the Panajachel dock, locals around the Santiago dock. It’s a strange mix of British pub and comedores but people co-exist peacefully.

On Monday and Tuesday, the lake was very stormy and we had several power outages. We had originally planned to take the boat to Santiago but when we saw the waves taking over the flimsy dock, we gave up and decided to boat to San Marcos instead.

By the Panajachel dock, the water looked calm, but as soon as we reached the centre of the lake, the lancha was jerked around. I was seating at the front, trying to hold a blue plastic cover to protect me from the water. Nice try, but I was soaked by the time we arrived. No matter what you take, a bus, a car, a tuktuk or a boat, transportation is always an adventure here.

San Marcos is the new-age village. A lot of (gringo) folks come here to fine tune their meditation skills and the narrow alleys were full of holistic centres, massage and hypnosis courses, etc. Not exactly our cup of tea—we came for the view and left without much meditating about it. My chakras are doing just fine, thanks. I do not need carrot and beet juice (seriously, who does?).

We finally got to explore Santiago when the storm was over.

I’ve been spending a lot of time on roofs lately. I climbed the one at the hotel to get a better view, and when the captain of the boat saw me with my camera, he gestured towards the roof of the boat: “arriba, arriba!” So I did the trip to Santiago perched up there. Not bad.

Santiago is the most traditional village of all. Here, Spanish is a distant second language and both men and women of all ages wear traditional clothes. Santiago is also home to Maximón, a deity revered through the Guatemalan highlands. The God is a wooden figure, draped in colorful scarves, smoking a big cigar and protected by both Jesus and other Christian saints. He changes home every year but he always lives with a member of the cofradía (Mayan religious brotherhood).

So we visited Maximón, who currently live outside the main plaza, in a house nested in a narrow alley.

After that, we walked around the village, observing the locals as much as they were observing us.

Packed Collectivo

Three Maya Women

In the Parque Central

Santiago Dock

The Dock in San Marcos

Corn and Volcanoes

Lago de Atitlan

Bilingual Maya and Spanish School in San Marcos

On the Boat to Santiago

Lago de Atitlan

God Maximon and his Caretakers

Santiago Plaza

On the Plaza

Volcano from Santiago

Street in Santiago

Digging in Santiago

Chicken Bus in Santiago

Flooded Dock in Santiago

The Volcano from Santiago

Chicken Buses and Jesús

Zhu — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 00:36:36 +0000

Chicken buses and Jesus. Yes, there is a link. An obvious one, even to an atheist like me.

Most Guatemalans are catholic, and even if the Mayas incorporated some animist and shamanist elements that the Vatican may or may not frown upon if it still cares, chances are you will notice an amazing number of churches and quite a few people named “Jesús”. Religion seems to be a huge part of folks’ life and it’s everywhere. Even as an atheist—or maybe because of it—I was struck how “alive” beliefs are.

Here, religion isn’t a pastime for old conservative folks in remote villages like it is rumoured to be in France, for instance. While it’s hard to say whether people actually believe and where to draw the line between cultural upbringing and personal beliefs, religion is a fact of life. Churches are bursting with activity and evangelist missions gained ground. The mass isn’t only celebrated on Sunday. You can hear people chanting and witness other praying pretty much every day of the week.

Religion also influences people’s life. For instance, I noted quite a few posters against abortion, in the name of God of course. While it is no doubt a very difficult decision to make, I’m pro-choice and I would rather let people decide what’s best for them. Just saying…

So, where is God? Well, in churches, for once. Massive brand new churches, dilapidated ones that are still standing, houses or schools converted into prayer rooms at night… mi casa es su casa—God took that pretty literally in Latin America.

God is also a passenger on every single bus, tuk tuk or minibus traveling in the country.

I don’t know much about religion or Roman Catholicism, but I’m pretty sure I heard something about “thou shall not call my name in vain.” Well, it obviously didn’t translate well into Spanish because “Dio” has to be the most overused word around here.

And that brings me to chicken buses. When they are shipped from North America, they are these safe bright yellow buses that rarely go over 40 km per hour. In no time, they are customized and taught to take sharp turns at ungodly speed. When it comes to customizing, anything goes and the brighter the colours the better. Some chicken buses, aka camionetas, still have their U.S. license plate at the back, with the Guatemalan one besides.

On the windshield or on the back of the seats, you can read inspired sentences such as “Sonrie, Jesús te ama” (“Smile, Jesus loves you); “Dio bendiga este bus” (“God blesses this bus”) or “Jesus guia mi camino” (“Jesus leads me”).

I have this theory that the crazier the driver, the more “feel good” religious stickers and inscriptions the bus will have. And trust me, when said driver negotiates yet another sharp turn in a narrow mountain road, even an atheist like me is pretty happy to know that “God blesses this bus.”

Funny enough, these religious sentences are often framed by Playboy pinups decals and other pop culture stickers. I guess here, God doesn’t mind the company.

Chicken Bus in Antigua

Tuk Tuk in Chichi

Chicken Bus in Antigua

U.S License Plate on Chicken Bus

Cartoonosh License Plate

Chicken Bus Portrait

Volcán Agua and Chicken Bus Parking Lot

Market Day in Chichicastenango

Zhu — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 22:03:06 +0000

Thursday was market day in Chichicastenango, aka Chichi for travelers and locals alike. For both visitors and sellers, the day started early and it involved a long bus ride uphill in twisty mountain roads.

I love markets. Sure, I usually don’t like to wander around raw meat stalls very early in the morning, and walking in packed alleys can be a tiring exercise. But markets, from Beijing’s Silk Market to France’s quaint Saturday food frenzy, tell a lot about a country’s culture.

It was a long three-hour bus ride from Antigua to Chichi. While the roads dramatically improved in Guatemala, the last part was a heart-stopping climb in the steepest mountain road you can imagine. The turns offered no visibility whatsoever and I had to mentally remind myself the driver probably knew what he was doing to prevent me from screaming. I was too sleepy for that, anyway.

Chichi is small rural town in the highlands that really only comes alive on market days. Still a major trading centre, Mayas from all the nearby pueblos make the trip twice a week. Parts of the market sell mostly souvenirs to tourists, such as carved masks and various objects made of the traditional Maya textile (bags, tablecloths etc.). Unlike in many Asian markets, there are no fake brand names here and no clothes either but for the odd souvenir t-shirt. The rest of the market caters to local who buy and sell chickens, cooking tools, fruits and veggies etc.

In 2003, we finished our trip around Antigua and bought one of the big “Maya blanket” that we still use every winter in Canada. This time, with still over a month to go, we didn’t want to buy much. Our backpacks can only hold so much! Feng bought a small tablecloth and I got a scarf. This is my traditional souvenir. I have a thing for scarves—they fold easily and are comforting when it’s cold.

Buying souvenir took us about 30 minutes. We kind of knew what we wanted and not much bargaining was involved. Unlike in Asia where it can last for half an hour, prices in Chich weren’t as flexible. We were quoted a price (too high), we counter-attacked with another price (too low) and agreed on a suitable price at the third attempt. In total, we spent about $15 for the scarf and tablecloth. Fine by me, I’m not going to argue just for the sake of saving a dollar.

We spent the rest of the time in Chichi taking pictures. It proved tricky at first: the light wasn’t great (too bright and shadowy around the stalls) and the streets were packed. But I found the people fascinating and I wanted to capture it.

Colourful Blankets

Shopping

Selling Flowers

Meat

Making Tortillas

Selling Chickens

Maya Girl

Market Street

Old Man

Embroidered Scarves

Selling Flowers

Old Man

Praying

Entrance of the City

Girl in a Shop

On the Steps of the Church

Souvenirs

Masks

Bus and Souvenirs

Selling Chickens

Maya-style Fabric

Faces of Antigua

Zhu — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 14:30:01 +0000

Antigua is a photographer’s dream for street photography. The city in itself is very picturesque with its small streets, colourful façades and the volcanoes in the background. It is also safe enough to walk around with a camera in hand. And the week between Christmas and New Year is a busy time in the city, where locals and travelers mix.

This is probably the most popular city in Guatemala. It’s one of these places where you think “yeah, I could live there.” What’s not to like? Great food—probably the most interesting mix of comida tipica and world food can be found here—,historical buildings and a relatively modern way of life. Unlike Guate, Antigua is easy to navigate, even though the cobblestone-paved streets can be hard on the feet and the knees.

The city in itself hasn’t changed much since 2003. We even had the same desayuno Antigüeno as we used to have at the Rainbow Café. The place and the dish are still here, eight years later. The buildings are the same and we can find our way easily.

Yet, there are a few subtle differences. For once, Antigua has been “yuppified.” Eight years ago, the few businesses that specifically catered to hippy gringos were cafés with book exchange services and numerous small restaurants that showed pirated movies on a big screens in the evening. Nowadays, you can find a few spas, a handful of franchised coffee places where drinks are almost as expensive as Starbucks’. The only movies shown are documentaries about Maya kids and literacy in the highlands. In some restaurants, the food is certified “organic” and the menu specifies that veggies and fruits are washed with purified water.

Okaaayyyy…

The gap of wealth within Guatemala is also fascinating to observe. Antigua attracts wealthier travelers from all around the world more than backpackers, but it also attracts local tourists. On one hand, you have the locals who barely get by—the kids who sell candies in the chicken buses, the Maya girls who sell necklaces etc. And on the other hand, there are groups of Guatemalan tourists who, cameras in hands, have their pictures taken with the “exotic” Mayas.

Weird.

People-watching is still a fascinating activity, perhaps more than ever. The various mixes of travelers and locals are strangely oblivious to each other’s’. Most people brush the sellers off: “no gracias.” It’s hard to do otherwise when every five meters, you are stopped by someone selling flutes or colourful bags. The old ladies praying non-stop at the many churches don’t seem to be disturb by tourists taking pictures of Jesus and Judas. And nuns do their shopping at the local supermarket (no, they don’t buy booze—I checked).

Three Maya Women

From the Church

Two Nuns

At The Market

Praying

War and Peace

Tuk Tuk

Armed

Maya Woman and Child

Candies Seller

Scarface Eating

Shoe-shine

At The Market

Selling Newspapers (and Reading)