Guatemala Sights!

Guatemala is a beautiful country, but it is also rough. The gap between rich and poor is one of the most extreme I have ever witnessed. Lush greenery clashes with shanty towns ruled by narcos. Bright and exotic tapestries are peddled by Mayan children in the street. Foreign hippies sing or beg for money in touristy Antigua alongside the poor Gautemalans. There is a definite edginess that I find so very different from the many places I have visited. And yet, all the people I have met have greeted me with such warmth. So even though I cannot go for a walk alone at night in the City, I am loving living here. 

The view from Michael's apartment. At night, it is a sea of lights.

Friday night, Michael and I met up with the Ochoa’s and Sanchez’s, sans kids (date night!) for dinner and a movie. I experienced one of the most luxurious movie going experiences of my life, complete with reclining black leather sofas (for two of course) and food and drinks delivered by a waiter. All this for only $10! Sadly, and ironically, Michael and I had a conversation on the way to the high end mall and movie theater about the significance of $10. A Guatemalan that works as a driver for the MILGRP (where Michael works), supplements his wage by spending 12 hours every Saturday and Sunday driving a chicken bus (a recycled American school bus, spewing exhaust, and driving EXTREMELY dangerously) to destinations outside of Guatemala City. Each 12 hour day, he earns $10. 

After a lazy morning of coffee and conversation, Michael and I headed to Antigua, once the capital of Guatemala. An ancient (as it’s name implies) city, it is the a popular destination for tourists, drawn in by 5 star hotels, cobblestone streets, restored churches, colonial Spanish ruins, and shopping for those who can afford it. In the heat of the day, Michael and I strolled the streets, taking in the textiles, iron work and ceramics that Antigua is famous for. 

This city is truly grand, with plazas, tree lined cobblestone streets and a constant energy of festivity. We explored the converted grand Spanish convent Casa Santo Domingo that is now a luxury hotel and museum. Perusing the countless shops, we brainstormed a dream house with a kitchen of ceramic tiles, walls adorned with colorful art, floors covered in woven rugs and a courtyard full of flowers and fountains. Maybe we were getting a little ahead of ourselves... In any case, we left Antigua with a hammock and our bellies full of a delicious lunch and this:

The view from the restaurant Tartines in Antigua.

Sunday morning, Michael had to leave for a week-long conference in Florida. Fortunately, I am hard at work each day completing applications for grad school, so I am keeping myself busy. Sunday dragged a bit, however, and I decided to take a long walk along the Avenida de America. 

A noble bulldog tolerating a playful puppy.

Every Sunday, they shut down one side of this boulevard, combining it with the park that runs down it’s center for all sorts of wonderful pedestrian activities. It was fantastic, and a concept that should be adopted in every city. People were out in droves with their dogs and tricycle-riding children. Volunteers in neon vests staffed water stations and recycle bins. Giant motivation signs plastered to the street kept walkers and runners moving to the next one. The air was filled with the scent of barbeque, pineapple, and occasional dog poop. The road was closed for over two miles, and I walked along its entire length, people and dog watching while enjoying the shade of the trees. 

Rounding back towards Michael’s apartment, I stopping at a café for a lemonade and sandwich before returning home to bake cookies and watch “A King’s Speech.” 

I am exploring and learning, gaining perspective and living. I have almost three weeks until I have to head down to the Southernn tip of Argentina for my next adventure, and I am busy soaking in the Guatemalan spirit.

The Great Coban Adventure!

What to do with a three day weekend in Guatemala? Go on an adventure!

Over drinks and genuinely good Mexican food in Zona Viva in downtown Guatemala City, Michael and I discussed the plethora of possibilities with the Ochoa's and the Sanchez's, two fabulous and beautiful families that Michael has grown close to in Guatemala. The Military Group, an entity of the U.S. Embassy, where Michael works, seems filled to the brim with extreme personalities (almost all good and slightly outrageous), daily "can-you-believe-it!" stories, and has yielded a tight-knit community of Americans that live and work in this vastly different country. Michael has essentially been adopted into these two families and serves as a de facto babysitter every occasion that they are together (fortunately, Michael has an innate talent and gentleness with children - I sadly, do not).

After an ingenious game of tag Michael invented

A few tequila shots and Micheladas (beer, lime juice, peppers, and salt) later, it was decided that we all were going 5 hours north to a town called Coban in the heart of the Guatemala. Wisely (although maybe not so much in hindsight), the Ochoa's and Sanchez's hired a van and driver. The roads in Guatemala are notorious for dangerous curves, a lack of safety barriers, and generally insane, aggressive driving. In an attempt to manage the car sickness and boundless energy of seven year old Sophie, six year old Roman, four year old Alea and two year old Jozef, they reasoned all parents were required, steering-wheel free. Michael and I decided (very wisely in hindsight) to take his 4-Runner, and follow the van.

Despite our best (sort of) efforts to leave at 8 in the morning on Saturday, we didn't end up leaving the city until well past noon. Leaving the city behind, we zipped around bends and turns, the beauty of Guatemala opening up all around us. Traversing ridges, signs of rockslides evident, we climbed into a cloud forest shrouded in fog and mist. Just as suddenly, valleys swooped below, ending in an endless hazy horizon of loping hills.

Passing through small, depressed towns, countless Mayans walking precariously by the side of the road, the disparity of wealth could not have been more keenly felt. And yet, the brightly colored clothing of all the women and children, the random soccer games in the middle of the street, the well maintained fields and industriousness of the people we saw working...there is a community here, and it is a strong one.

Arriving at our beautiful hotel/resort a little bit outside of Coban, we kicked back before heading out to experience the local dining. Coffee is the main export of this fertile area, but the spice cardamom, is ubiquitous. As the only patrons at the high-ceilinged Kardamomuss Restaurant, we enjoyed delicious food, and a pre-birthday celebration for Heralder, who turned 38 on Sunday.

The next morning, only 30 minutes behind schedule, we departed our hotel to make the two hour drive to Semuc Champey.

Oh nature, how you continue to astound and humble me! Semuc Champey is one of the most beautiful and uplifting places I have ever seen. A thundering river, vines swirling on its surface, is led into a cave strewn with borders by way of a rainforest ravine, and is transformed into orange bordered pools of brilliant green-blue. The underground cave/tunnel, as much as you strain to peer into its darkness, standing precariously above it, retains its mystery. The miraculous transformation into wide, slow flowing stepped pools, the water so pure and clear, you can see fish swimming a hundred feet away is amazing. Deceptively deep, the pools are as beautiful to look at, as they are refreshing and rejuvenating to swim in.

The only thing is, it is very difficult to get to Semuc Champey. An hour of winding, perpetually foggy road eventually gives way to 20 km of an extremely treacherous dirt and rock road, oftentimes with a sheen of mist slicking its passage. The final bit involves crossing a wooden bridge, and I nearly had a heart attack as I watched the planks bounce and fly upwards as the van holding the Ochoa's and Sanchez's crossed in front of us. Finally, we arrived at the park, climbed out of our cars and were immediately descended upon by a dozen children selling homemade chocolate wrapped in tin foil. I have never seen such strategy, essentially they each made us us promise to only buy chocolate from them. They repeated their names over and over again, and came up with small antics to make us remember them later on.

Taking the little Ochoa and Sanchez children in hand we began the nature walk to the pools. Within a few hundred meters, the pools began to peak out from behind the foliage. The surprisingly developed park (considering the route it took to get there) was complete with a maintained wooden walk-way to avoid causing damage to the foliage. Our entire party, when finally confronted with the beauty of the pools, was rendered speechless. Like a giant natural water park, tourists and Guatemalans alike slide from smooth rock patterns into the pools, or traversed the clear tidal-pool-esque configurations to gain different perspectives of the surrounding beauty. Slipping and sliding, we tread lightly to the cave outlook.

The grand view of the park, Mirador, was advertised as a steep vertical climb of 400 meters to a platform granting unsurpassed views of the pools. There was no way the kids were going to make the climb, and after an appropriate amount of goading from everyone, Michael and I began a rapid ascent. Our goal was to try to make it down in less than two hours (it was an estimated 1 hour and 15 minute climb), and so, at a trot, and in our first work out in weeks, we began the sweaty, labored climb. Himalaya tenacity took over, and I set a crazy pace. Stopping only to take a few quick pictures, we climbed. Abruptly, the foliage seemed to clear. Were we almost there? Yes, and not to brag, but it took us 16 minutes to make the climb. In jeans no less. And the views were every bit as wonderful as we had hoped.

After a 13 minute descent, properly surprised our party, Michael, overwhelmed by the beauty of the pools, and the exertion of our climb, dove into the water (of course, no one had thought to bring bathing suits since it was so cold in Coban - so he was wearing his pants). Inspiring his mini-me's, the kids all began to strip down and attempted to follow Michael. Michael in turn, followed the example of a tan, spry Mayan boy and dove off of the boulders mid-pool rather then just slide down them as the other tourists were doing.

Can you see the sweat? I look a bit rough...

Michael, King of Semuc Champey

A gentle drizzle started up, and at the behest of our talented driver Estuardo, we all made our way back to the van and 4-Runner. What happened next? Well, you already know we made it back safely...

Within one kilometer of trying to climb out of Semuc Champey, Michael and I watched the van slide and bump at extreme angles as it tried to crest a hill. My heart was trapped in my throat as I envisioned the van rolling (as it so easily could have done) and come tumbling down the hill. Unbelievably, the van made it up that first hill, but it was clear that was as far as it was going. The 4-Runner, and 4-wheel drive, had us up the hill right behind the van, and the brainstorming session began. We had tow rope, should we tow the van out? Should Michael and I take the kids in our car? What about the down hill sections? Eventually, it was decided. The van was left abandoned in a grassy ditch, and all 11 people climbed into Michael's 5 person 4-Runner. Here's how it went down: Michael driving, Heralder in the passanger seat, all 4 children (which they thought was hilarious), Marlene and Sandy in the backseat, and Gerardo, Estuardo and me in the way back.

Add Michael and I into this picture, and that is the number of
people that fit into the 4-Runner

Hands down, this was one of the most uncomfortable, scary, and nauseating car rides of my life. I basically survived by the fact that the rear window rolls down, and by staring outside, watching the steep drop-offs fade into the distance. Bumping and twisting for an hour on the dirt road, we finally emerged onto the dark windy, pot-holed, asphalt road and arrived in Coban an hour and a half later. Hallelujah! We made it, thanks to Michael's mad driving skills and the glorious invention of 4-wheel drive. Dragging ourselves into our orange and yellow hotel restaurant, we immediately ordered a bottle of wine, and started the jokes of Heralder's unforgettable birthday trip to Semuc Champey.

It was decided late that night to send another van from the Gautemala City to pick up the families. So the next morning as we waited for the van to arrive, we all piled back into Michael's car again and explored the town of Coban. Finally around 1400, we began the long trip back to the city, curving back through the small towns, dodging dogs and chickens.

It was a true adventure, complete with pools of brilliant water, hilarious children, improvisation, good food, and and Peyton Manning winning a spot at the Superbowl.

Yoga Nepali Style!

Agreed. This post is long overdue, but I would be remiss if I did not share the zen perfection that is Sadhana Yoga Retreat. 

The 12 days that I was part of the Sadhana family were some of the most blissful in recent memory. Quite serendipitously, I signed up for the ten day yoga holiday, a more structured retreat (as compared to just showing up), offered twice a month and found myself in a group of most spectacular women. That first evening, as I met the four other girls on the holiday, little could I have foreseen how perfectly matched were our temperaments, our humor, our, for lack of a better world "girlyness." Far from being the seriously meditative retreat that one might envision, I danced, sang, laughed and ate my way through a beautiful bubble of time. Introspection, peace, happiness...well I just felt it all in company, which I think exponentially magnified the good.

What follows is a glimpse into this oasis, presented in images worth a thousand words:

The girls, from left to right, Emily, Carlie, Jordana and Karen. An international crew from Australia, U.K., Canada and Norway. 

The view from Sadhana. Every tier of the U shaped blue pagoda had a place to sit, lay or stand in the sun and revel at the beauty of our surroundings.

Every morning, the bell rang at 0530. Rubbing our eyes and tripping in the dark, we began our day in the yoga room with an hour and a half of pre-meditation, meditation, and post-meditation exercises. I had no concept of how incredibly difficult it would be to sit still, cross-legged, for thirty minutes, ignoring the intense pain in my knees, ankles and feet, all the while concentrating on and clearing my mind. The pose in the picture, Shavasana, is at the very end of the exercises, and I had to fight strange giggles as my limbs came back to life. 

Black tea and lemon followed meditation, as we watched the last traces of night creep behind the mountains. Everyday was sunny, with a gentle constant breeze...really.

Neti Kriya, or nasal cleansing in the garden was next. This part was...interesting. Kneeling (in order to avoid splashing all over myself), I tilted my head 45 degrees to either side, then poured lukewarm saltwater up the outside nostril, gravity flowing it through my passages and pourin it out the other side. So basically...

This cleansing was at the peace pagoda during one of our meditation trips. Following the cleansing/drowning, we performed a series of cleansing exercises which were tantamount to spraying everything in your immediate vicinity with salty snot. It was great fun...again, really!

Next we practiced an hour and a half of yoga, including breathing exercises.

We were usually one step away from laughing. Speaking of laughing, we practiced laughing yoga, which involves laughing as hard as you can for three minutes. I LOVED it.

Finally, it was time for breakfast! This usually consisted of porridge (delicious), muesli (divine), or pancakes (delectable). 

What better way to enjoy your full breakfast belly, than to take a steam bath? The next few hours of our day, until a midday session of meditation, were for relaxing, steam or mud bathing, reading, or lying in the sun. What a life...

Following noon meditation was lunch, always a variation of the Nepali national dish, dal bhat. All the healthy, heart, homemade food at Sadhana, was slow cooked and prepared with love. Every morsel was delicious, and wonderfully, there were always seconds.

An afternoon of more relaxing and karmic yoga was followed by masala tea, popcorn and...

Chanting! Although we may look subdued in this picture, chanting was a riot. Oftentimes, spontaneous dancing would ensue, as we all sang at the top of our lungs for an hour. An evening session of yoga, a candlelight dinner, and candle meditation wrapped up the day as we fell into our beds, lulled to sleep by nature all surrounding.

On the 7th, 8th and 9th day of our retreat, we embarked on a fast. Day one: six apples and three cups of honey lemon water. Day two: three apples and three cups of honey lemon water. Day three: three cups of honey lemon water. We were also allowed to indulge in prodigious quantities of herbal tea. Additionally, we spent our last day of fasting in silence, which is the only time at Sadhana I wasn't totally full of joy.

Sadly, our fast wasn't broken with ice cream, candy, pasta or pizza, but with twenty (TWENTY!!) cups of warm salt water combined with intestinally crunching yoga exercises. It was worst than it sounds. The result? Five girls running desperately for the bathroom at least two dozen times over the course of three hours. All I can say is we were, undoubtedly, cleaned out.

Beyond our daily routine, here were a few more moments if total Sadhana happiness:

After a steep hour and a half hike, we watched the sunrise over the Annapurna mountain range.

Walking meditation at sunrise at the Peace Pagoda.

Canoeing across the lake.

Taking a day long, taste sensation cooking class and...

Learning how to not burn my hands making chapati.

Sadhana was beautiful and my time there was filled with joy (except no food and silence day). I miss the friends I made there and the pace of life. Let's all go, shall we?

Update (A Rather Uninspired Title for an Eventful Time)

So much has come to pass in the last week since Michael and I returned from Valpo. In an effort to capture the range of life lived, I am compiling it all into this update.

Wes the Hero:

As a sad truth of having gone to the school that I did, and having served in the line of work that was the past six years of my life, I am witness to the passing of some true American heroes. One such man, Wes Van Dorn, a classmate and company mate of mine from the U.S. Naval Academy was killed on January 8th from injuries sustained during a helicopter crash. During the first summer I was at USNA, a six week mini boot camp called Plebe Summer, Wes was one of my ten squad mates. The days following his passing, I was gripped with flashbacks of my time at school, of the time Wes literally pushed my ass up and over the physical Endurance Course, his request for additional physical training during Plebe Summer when I could barely make it through the day. Skyping with my classmates, emails flying back and forth with people I haven't spoken to since graduating almost seven years ago, it brought tears and also laughter at remembering. I cannot reconcile Wes' grin, infectious laughter, noble and bright personality with the idea of his being still and unmoving. I don't think I will ever be able to. As a father and husband, son and friend, the loss is indescribable. Wes, fair winds and following seas.

Santiago:

The land of long, blisteringly hot summer days, wine and food. And, so, as the U.S. survived the polar vortex, I was indulging in the unrealized love of ginger ale and agua con gas (carbonated water) to keep myself reasonably cool. Our last week at Ecela, our Spanish immersion course, was full of Spanish Taboo, Spanish Scattegories, Spanish Pictionary, and enough Spanish grammar to expand my conversation skills a hundred fold. In the evenings, we walked the city, taking full advantage of the balmy and endless late afternoons fading into night. Our favorite spot to end up at, Lastarria, was a bohemian mixture of art, international cuisine, trendy clothes, and hip salons. It is there, that I took the plunge, entrusting a fabulous hairdresser by the name of Sebastian to cut my hair into a highlighted pixie. And unfortunately (a little), I have lost my fit trekking physique under a layer of fat due to the make-up-for-lost-time-dates that Michael and I indulged in most nights. But the food! And the wine! When in Chile...

Wine tasting at Bocanariz

View from the top of San Cristobal Hill, which also boasts this 22 meter statue of the Virgin Mary:

Top Three Travel Fear Realized:

I won't elaborate much, other than to say, bedbugs SUCK! Literally, they crawl on you and suck your blood...at night! If that isn't a recipe for insomnia, I'm not sure what is. In any case, I was destroyed by bedbugs in Valpo, with dozens of bites all over my arms and legs. DISGUSTING! Miraculously, Michael emerged with zero, count 'em, zero bites. Thankfully, my suffering has been limited to just bites, and not inadvertently carrying the bugs with me in my clothes or luggage. I will not subject you to any pictures, as just seeing the healing wounds on me now, as I type this, is traumatizing enough.

Continent Number 4, Here I Come!:

Forces and emotions aligned, and here I am in Guatemala. Originally, I had envisioned continuing my South American tour after spending a month with Michael in Chile and Argentina, but when the time came to figure out the next landing point, I found my heart had other plans. Weighing my options, factoring in my longing for adventure and new experiences, feeling like my relationship with Michael was evolving and growing out of the peaks and valleys we had put it through with long distance, it became apparent that I would be happiest spending the next month with him. Additionally, I have begun the animating, but daunting process of looking forward to my life after traveling. I have so many more wonderful and extreme adventures ahead of me before I come home in late Summer, and this pause in January and February is a logical, stable time for a deep breath.

Since landing in Guatemala a little more than 24 hours ago, I have, for the first time since September, baked cookies, typed on a real keyboard (so much easier), and played the piano.

Home for the next few weeks...

It has been a whirlwind, emotionally draining week. It seems, sometimes, like it takes a time of tragedy or a time of jubiliance to reset priorities. Since traveling, I feel like I take my relationships with my friends and family less for granted. Being separated by a considerable distance from the familiar causes the most tender of reflections on the people back home. I have loved nearly every moment traveling, and beautifully, my joy in my home grows exponentially along with my love of discovery. So to everyone, go ahead and smile out loud for all the goodness in life, and I'll do the same over here.