Palenque or bust!

There are several options available to reach the city of Palenque: the luxurious OCC bus (very expensive), join a tour that ends up there (also expensive), and lastly there is the option to leap frog colectivos from one small rural town to the next until you reach Palenque. We felt to be the best possible anthropologists we could be, and most practical, would be to travel like the locals do. So around noon we began the first leg of our journey to Palenque from San Cristobal. Fifty pesos and two hours later we were in a small village named Oxchuc, from there we rode in the bed of a truck that had a vinyl cover to protect us from the elements. We were joined by a rather inebriated man named Alejandro who delightfully kept us entertained with his unintelligible drunk ramblings. We were slightly concerned about whether Alejandro was going to have issues keeping his lunch due to the bumpy roads, but surprisingly he managed just fine. Sonja on the other hand, who has a history of motion sickness, didn’t fare so well. As we passed through the windy mountain roads Sonja missed out on the sights of waterfalls that emerge out of the cliff walls because she had her head out the back of the bed leaving a trail behind us. The next stop between us and Palenque was the town of Ocosingo, famous for being the bloodiest site of the Zapatista uprising. We ate some delicious yet questionable grilled chicken sold off of street side grills. We were glad to find out that the next vehicle to Palenque was a roomy van, we felt this would be the most comfortable for Sonja since she was already feeling lousy. We were wrong. About forty-five minutes into the ride Sonja gave the people seated behind her about a five second warning before sliding open her window of our colectivo. We apologized for the rough forms of transportation, but the payoff was about to be worth the sacrifice. The jungles of the lower elevations were becoming thicker the farther we traveled. Rivers flowed under bridges as we crossed over them. Vines hung from high up branches and the trunks of giant trees were wrapped in leafy lianas.

Once in Palenque we gathered ourselves and our belongings and headed to El Panchan, the cabanas we stayed at before that are nestled into the dense foliage. I had our party halt for a moment as we rolled our luggage down the dirt road because in the distance I picked up the sound of howler monkeys. We stood there in silence for a minute to take in the roars of these primates. We booked our room, walked over a stream and passed through Don Mucho’s, the main restaurant at El Panchan. We followed the red footpath deep into the woods where we arrived at our second story cabana. The room was basic, four double size beds arranged side by side facing a blank yellow wall which had no art to speak of. The windows were mere screens with cloth drapes that covered the lower half. The bathroom consisted of a toilet, shower, sink, and mirror. There are no frills at El Panchan and we would have it no other way. Around sundown the howler monkeys began their primal singing once again. We tried spotting them in the branches through our windows, but could only make out their outlines. The plan for our time in Palenque was to stay two nights to give ourselves a full day to enjoy the ruins, jungle, and museum. Amber’s body had other plans.

The next morning we ordered coffee for breakfast, but weren’t able to drink it because my sister was having terrible internal pains. So terrible in fact that we grabbed the first colectivo into town to take her to the nearest doctor. Our colectivo driver was kind enough to take us off his route to a doctor he recommended. He then waited to make sure Amber was taken care of. The doctor felt she was in need of more assistance than he could provide and told us to go to the general hospital at once. We packed into a taxi and found ourselves at the local hospital.

People could be found everywhere around the hospital- in the waiting room, sitting outside the ER entrance, outside the building. It was confusing to understand how the system functioned, but Amber’s urgent condition was evident so we were seen somewhat promptly. A man who we presumed to be a doctor and several med students came in to witness the diagnosis. It was unclear what was afflicting my sister, but he ruled out Appendicitis. This didn’t solve the problem of her pain though. Amber squirmed and even vomited from the pain. They then decided to lay her on a gurney in the hallway and hook her up to an IV drip. We were then left alone and not spoken to for quite some time. Later we were asked to pay for the consultation and visit, which came out to around $40. Amber felt a little better so we went back to El Panchan.

Her pain had subsided for the moment, but was about to make an even stronger comeback. We left Amber to rest in the room when we returned. During her nap we three stood under a troop of howlers as they vocally battled a neighboring troop, hiked to a jungle stream with a local boy, and walked back as fireflies lit up our path to our cabana. We returned to find Amber back in pain and in need to revisit the hospital. Back at the hospital a different crew was on staff and the guessing of her affliction began anew. This time Appendicitis was an option and surgery was being considered. Very frightening circumstances especially due to the frantic nature of all the nurses and staff. We were even told by a nurse that there was no anesthesia available. Amber was once again left in the hallway with a tube inserted into her arm to receive a liquid drip. There was nothing we could do for the moment, so we went out in search of internet to contact our family. When we returned the diagnosis was becoming clearer- kidney stones. There wasn’t much that could be done except to have her stay the night and tough through the pain. We reluctantly left our wounded soldier behind and hoped for the best.

The next morning Amber was feeling much better and was able to be released. We had not yet been to the Palenque ruins and Amber felt that in a day’s time she might feel well enough to walk around, so we booked another night. Our original two night stay in Palenque had turned into a five day venture.

Early the next morning we attempted the breakfast-before-we-go-to-the-ruins thing, this time a success! We all felt energized, hydrated, and full. Off to the ruins we went. We visited the museum, got a little history about the ruins, took the old entrance through a jungle path, and came upon the white plastered structures of Palenque. Faith and I showed off some of the interesting attributes to Mayan architecture we have learned about during our time here. For example, structures with long staircases have an acoustic quality to them where when a clap is made near the front, an echo reverberates off the structure that has a sharp high trill sound. This was supposedly done to mimic the natural call of the quetzal bird, the sacred bird of the Maya. We showed Amber the chamber of the Red Queen, the dark tunnels of the living quarters, the royal plaza of the captives, the observatory, and explained as best we could the meanings of the stone carvings.

Our day was full of excitement and we were just as excited to take a nap and recuperate from all the heat exhaustion. We were going to stay one final night in Palenque and then head back to San Cristobal. We are now coming to the final last days of our time in Chiapas, but we have big plans for what we will be involved with- volunteering/staying with cacao farmers, Tapachula, and volunteering/staying at a sea turtle sanctuary. You can expect a final entry or two about our last week very soon.

San Cristobal in a day

One of the problems with keeping a real-time journal is finding the time to actually write about what’s been happening. There has been a whole lot going on since we last left off, but I will start at the beginning… the day my sister arrived in our little Chiapan mountain town.

Aside from an informal night tour and a quick peek into our favorite coffee shop, Amber’s introduction to San Cristobal de las Casas would have to wait until the next morning. Our alarm went off nice and early and we whisked her out the door after cooking her breakfast in our apartment. Our first stop of the day was at La Casa de las Flores, a school dedicated to the education of the local children who cannot afford the time to go to government run schools. The main issue that children face here is that their families rely on them to contribute to the household income, which can mean they must miss school to help with work and/or sell in the marketplace. La Casa de las Flores provides government approved workbooks that can be completed at any pace and grants academic credit. We wanted to support this great organization and we had heard they were in need of clothing for their students. So, instead of bringing luggage filled with her own materials my sister brought a duffel bag full to the brim with children’s clothes that my generous mom purchased to donate to La Casa de las Flores. Sonja and our good friend from Austria, Andrea, also donated toys which were equally appreciated. This definitely made for a great start to our day and we were excited to show my sister all the other amazing things going on in San Cristobal.

We walked the streets and took back roads through town pointing out our favorite taco shops, mountain ridges, and grilled chicken lady. Along the way we stopped by the “Happy House” a house used to experiment with “bicimaquinas,” bicycle powered machines. There is a washer machine that runs its cycles completely powered by a person pedaling a bicycle whose chain has been replaced with a belt that spins the back of the washing machine. The concept here is to reduce the amount of electricity used, exercise with a purpose, and educate people about alternative forms of living. They are also working on storing the energy created by pedaling into batteries which can be used at a later time.

At Jaguar de Madera Amber was shown the unique permaculture construction being used there- their house and kitchen are made solely out of “super adobe,” a mixture of clay, mud, sand and very little cement, and light enters the rooms through windows made of glass bottles that have been inserted into the super adobe walls. We also showed off the worm composting bin Faith and I helped to build, the seed bank we helped collect seeds for, and the wood chip mountain we helped move. We explained how the different compost bins work; how the pig biodigestor collects the gases produced by the urine and feces and are used to cook in the kitchen; and the super adobe dome they have constructed and how it’s used as an example for alternative construction. We then did a fast run through of the Na Bolom museum garden and gift shop before hopping into a crowded colectivo that dropped us off at the bustling outdoor market. Faith and I expertly navigated through the maze of raw chicken vendors, florists, dried fish sellers, and fruit stands. We picked up a few things for the day including mangos which are now in season and tried a few fruits that are specific to only here.

Next on the agenda was to visit the Museum of Mayan Medicine where Faith and I ate, slept, and worked for the first part of our stay in San Cristobal. We took her through the medicinal plant garden, went into the museum itself where Amber and Faith received a cleansing ritual by Don Victorio- a Tzeltal curandero. If interested, the entire ritual is described in detail in an earlier entry about our time at the museum. Near the dormitories where Faith and I lived was our little gem of San Cristobal, the ecologically sustainable waterless composting latrine we built. Amber oo-ed and ahh-ed over its gloriousness, and even honored it with a use. We told her stories about our time there, the friends we made, the greenhouse, the donkey, the dog named Michael, and the other neat attributes to the museum. We knew we were on a schedule so we then hurriedly walked down to Orquideas Moxviquil (OM). At OM we were able to exhibit all we had learned about orchids and the history of the project. Cisco, the director, came out to accompany us and gave Amber a delightful personal tour of the greenhouse in a manner in which only he could. OM is a beautiful place and we really enjoyed being involved with the organization, we wish we could have seen the latrine project we initiated be completed, but due to time constraints we will have to let others continue where we have left off.

We hired a taxi and were off to the town of Chamula. Chamula is famous for its Catholic church that has been converted into a healing center by the Tzotzil speaking Maya of the region. Inside the church the floor is covered with pine needles and we respectfully sat and witnessed traditional healing rituals be performed. Candles are lined up in rows, eggs and chickens are brought into the church, the alcoholic drink, pox, is consumed along with Coca Cola. There are Catholic saints adorned with different fabrics who double as indigenous deities encased within wood and glass cabinets. Outside the church is the market where we purchased more wool animals to add to our growing Chamulan zoo. We are unsure whether these cute fuzzy stuffed creatures will end up being gifts as originally intended or if we will keep them all and form ourselves a wool menagerie. The sun was beginning to set so we took the last colectivo out of Chamula and headed back to San Cristobal. This had been Sonja´s final day of Spanish school and we had a lot of planning to do for our next few days. Before coming here my sister had asked me if she was going to be seeing any ruins or monkeys while here and after I had told her that she wouldn´t her disappointment was obvious. This simply would not do, so what did we do, we decided to have an impromptu adventure and take Sonja and Amber to Palenque to see ruins and monkeys!

We had shown Amber all our projects and introduced her to many of the friends we have made. We were sad to hug and shake hands farewell to those people we have become so close with over the last few months, but are excited for the next steps on our path. We also didn´t say goodbye to our friends either because we know this is only the first of many repeat visits. Stay tuned to hear about Palenque, howler monkeys, and the unexpected kidney stones.

Visitors Welcome!

Through the duration of our trip we have extended an invitation to any of you who would like to join us. Well, we've been taken up on our offer! Sonja, a fellow anthropologist who is working on her Master's thesis on health care in Chiapas, has come to increase her Spanish skills along with collect data for her research. We have kept her entertained by showing off our favorite places around town after she gets out of school in the afternoons. We have taken her to our project at the orchid preserve, hiked the local trails, visited the cemetery, eaten affordable meals, and experienced daily San Cristobal life. We also visited the Sergio Castro Museum, where Mr. Castro himself gave us a tour of his collection of regional outfits he has collected over the years. He has received them as gifts for his humanitarian work such as healing burn victims and other commendable acts.

There is truly never a dull moment in this mountain town such as the daily fireworks and water trucks chiming their catchy tunes up and down the streets, and the recurring parades celebrating momentous Catholic holidays. This last week San Cristobal celebrated the Three Kings that are said to have visited Jesus of Nazareth's birth. Each king was seated on a replica of his own unique animal (horse, camel, elephant) which was mounted on a truck. According to the biblical story, each king held his own gift for the boy king (gold, frankincense, myrrh). The gift giving was replicated by the people on the floats who gave gifts to the children in the crowd. Yet the holiday has had some additional flair inserted over the years. A special sweet bread is sold in mass quantities at all the local bakeries in town. A wreath shaped fruit filled turnover symbolizes the long journey of the kings to find their destination. Traditionally coins were baked into the cake, but recently this tradition has been altered in a peculiar way. Tiny plastic baby Jesus figurines can be found within the layers of fruit and sweet bread. From what we understand the finder of the baby Jesus has to provide a party and food for their family on February 2nd. We had a great time watching flat-bed trucks covered in brown construction paper as they drove by with makeshift floats of the traveling kings in their beds. We also were fortunate enough to be given several of the miniature baby Jesus figurines as keepsakes to remember how this holiday is celebrated. All of this excitement will surely be missed when we have to leave this magnificent place. It has been said that the highlands of Chiapas is one of the most heavily studied areas by anthropologists in all of Mexico. A joke within the anthropology world is, "Every home here has a mother, a father, and an anthropologist." This fascination and reason for such extensive research is understandable.

There are many distinctly unique cultural regions surrounding San Cristobal, and we were given possibly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be invited to a traditional Catholic wedding being held by a Mayan family in Zinacantan. Zinacantan is a small town about 25 minutes away from San Cristobal. The people who have inhabited this region for generations speak Tzotzil and are famous for their flower growing. Men traditionally tend to large flower gardens in sophisticated greenhouses. The people of Zinacantan have incorporated flowers into their cultural identity. Traditional clothing for the women from this region is a shawl that goes over the shoulders, is tied in the front by tassles, and is beautifully designed with purples, greens, and reds in the form of sparkly flowers. Their long ankle length black skirts often have similar patterns displayed on them. The men also wear this pattern on a knit overshirt and is equally as vibrant and colorful as the women. Small children can be seen dressed as miniature versions of their parents in and around town.

Sonja has been taking Spanish lessons through Casa en el Arbol, a language school created by the founder of the volunteer organization we worked with, Natate. One of the Spanish instructors happened to be invited to the Zinacantan wedding by the groom's sister. She asked ahead of time if it would be all right if her students (and some of their friends) came along, which she was told was fine. So on Saturday eight of us purchased a gift for the couple, got into a combi and headed to Zinacantan. The street where the wedding was held was roped off. Tables and chairs had been set up under a canopy in front of the house of the wedding reception. Inside the home there were white balloons with the words "Nuestro boda" (our wedding) on them. There were more tables inside with white linens, beautiful floral arrangements, a three tiered cake, and alcohol and sodas on the tables. In this region of Mexico there is a type of liquor made called Pox pronounced "posh," an alcohol made from sugar cane and has also been referred to as "white lightning." This alcohol is used in healing rituals, religious ceremonies, and festivities, including this wedding.

We were greeted by the sister of the groom and made ourselves comfortable and took in all the excitement. There were groups of women sitting around wood burning tin stoves with comals (round flat cooking discs) where the handmade tortillas were crisped. Inside another room other women prepared large pots of the food for the 100+ expected guests. There was an altar inside the same room which had the Virgin Mary dressed in traditional Zinacantan fashion with candles and pine needles around it.
When the bride and groom arrived they were showered with confetti and shown their seats at the center of the main table. Four younger women went around pinning each guest with either a ribbon or heart with the name of the couple and the date. A line of men formed from the kitchen into the dining room and plates filled with chicken in mole sauce, rice, tortillas, and atol with bread were passed one by one in a highly organized assembly line fashion. The people not seated in the room where the bride and groom were eating patiently conversed and waited their turn to eat. We were invited to sit at a table with some of the men who helped pass the food along and enjoyed the meal as they did. Faith and I paid close attention to the order and way the food was being eaten by the other guests as to not make any mistakes on how to properly consume the given food. We noticed that the rice was placed into the sauce and then eaten first before the chicken was even touched. We couldn't help but get dirtier than the other men, mole sauce can be quite difficult to work with. We also noticed that none of the men drank their atol until after the food had been finished, so we followed their lead and mirrored that behavior as well. Each person had been given two large round sweet breads with their atol drink, a large amount per person and we noticed that many of the men wrapped their remaining bread in napkins to be eaten later, we also made sure to not leave behind any of the given food.

The cake cutting ceremony was next on the agenda and all the women gathered around to witness it. The bride and groom shared pieces of the cake with each other and smeared a minimal amount on each other. The bride was wearing her traditional floral outfit with a long white veil that covered her head and went to to her lower back. The groom wore his floral overshirt.

The couple then went into the room where the altar was and kneeled before it on the pine needle covered floor. It was a private affair and not many others entered or joined them. They remained in the altar room for the duration of our time there. The mood was light throughout the house and people casually chatted amongst themselves. One thing that stood out to Faith and I was the absence of music. Apparently the father of the bride had requested there be no music played at the reception, which is uncommon. We had heard that weddings could become rather rambunctious with pox flowing into everyone's cups. It was interesting to see a different take on a traditional wedding. We were honored and humbled to have been given the opportunity to experience this special moment.

After the reception Faith and I wandered through town and perused some of the local shops. Zinacantan seems to receive less tourists than their neighboring town of Chamula. We were the only foreigners there that day, but heard that the market takes place on Sundays and possibly could be their busier day. As a memento of our time here in Zinacantan Faith and I purchased a Zinacantan shawl that displays the bright colors and flowers like those worn by the women there. Faith and I love going over all our experiences here in San Cristobal de las Casas and are saddened that our time here will be coming to an end. We will be leaving San Cristobal this Saturday to revisit the coastal Soconusco region. We will most likely be getting involved with the farmers Sonja and I worked alongside during our field study there last Summer. We also plan to visit a sea turtle sanctuary on the beach where you can stay nightly in exchange for assistance at their sanctuary. We have been happy to have shared our experiences with those of you who read this, Sonja who came to visit and study, and my sister who will also be joining us this Thursday. We get to do a quick recap and enjoy all the favorite things about San Cristobal as we play tour guide for her. We will keep you all updated on what happens next and how the move goes. Abrazos!

Part 5 Getting back to San Cristobal through Flores and Palenque

"Where to next?" I asked Faith as we walked up from the dock into the city of Rio Dulce. We now were faced with the dilemma of how to get back to San Cristobal safely and timely. We had the option of pioneering into unchartered territory and see some new sites such as Antigua (a colonial town similar to San Cristobal near some famous lakes and volcanoes) or retrace our steps. We chose the latter mainly because it was familiar and more of a sure thing.

We only had a matter of minutes between when we purchased our bus tickets and our departure so I scrambled through the outdoor vendors to find some road food. There simply wasn't enough time to get anything substantial so I settled on a few mandarin oranges and two bags of unripe mangoes covered in salt, lime, chile, and hajuashte (ground up pumpkin seed powder). Not exactly a well balanced meal, but we had to make due.

Everyone piled into the bus and we set off for Flores. We met some interesting people along the way like a Guatemalan man, who teaches Q'eqchi' youth in Guatemala, that spent seven years in Bakersfield, California. He explained to me how even though he would have loved to have taught in the states he wasn't able to and had to settle for a position as a cook at a P.F. Chang's. He has since returned to do what he truly loves- teach children. Talking about food from home didn't help our hunger pains, but we were then surprised by a woman on the bus who began selling fried chicken, fried pork and rice. It seems I have become a gambling man while on this trip because any chance I get I always play the "Let's See If This Will Make You Sick" game. I ordered a little of everything and ate off my lap on the bumpy road, you would have definitely been impressed with the ratio that actually made it into my mouth.

Once back in Flores we raced Tuk Tuk's with some of our new friends and stayed again at the Hotel Lacandon. I enjoyed a good swim in Lake Peten happy to be able to experience it again. We couldn't get too comfortable though, we had to leave at 5:00 a.m. the next morning to get to Palenque, an estimated seven hour trip.

The next morning we groggily went downstairs and waited for our pickup. San Juan Travel and their off-roading bus came by and we were on our way. It was a nice ride until we got to the dirt road. I had the back of the bus and the tirewell allowed for absolutely no leg room and the window slid open on its own from the reverberating bus. Our hair felt like straw from the amount of dust we were collecting in it. We could have been mistaken for Uma Thurman in Kill Bill after she unearths herself when she was buried alive.

Along the way we made friends with a Kentuckian couple who have been all over the world. They told us amazing stories of their times in places like Malaysia, Botswana, Thailand, and France. We explained to them our journey and they decided to join us on our way back to San Cristobal. At Palenque we had to jump on a Combi bus and ride for another five hours. This was the longest traveling day we had had on this trip so far- 13 hours. We did get to see interesting things along the way though. Since it was New Year's Eve there was definitely parties being prepared and we got to see how different regions celebrate. Our favorite was seeing life size dummies fully dressed along the roadside, on patios, even on second story balconies. We asked our driver (who had the smallest steering wheel ever made) who told us it is a tradition to dress dummies in old clothes and at midnight strike a match and burn them to the ground. A symbolic letting go of the past, very neat, but we didn't get to actually see any of them go up in flames. Around 8:00 p.m. we finally got back to our home away from home- San Cristobal de las Casas. We had been gone for 14 days and it felt good to be back. We helped our friends find a decent hotel and showed them around our little town. We had a nice evening with them and even were able to stay up until midnight to wish them a happy new year.

Our epic journey had come to an end. We still can't believe all the things we saw and did and couldn't have asked for it to have gone any smoother. We didn't have a single thing break, get lost, or stolen. We made friends we will keep in contact with for a very long time and made memories that will stay with us our entire lives. We appreciate all of you who have read along with us and hope some day you get the chance to make it down here for yourselves.

Part 4 Rio Dulce jungle cruise, caves, Livingston, and the Q'eqchi'

Getting a good night's rest isn't included in the type of traveling we have been doing through Central America. Like my mom always says, "You can sleep when you're dead." To be able to reach your next destination you must allow yourself the appropriate amount of time since things can be rather spread apart across the landscape. Our morning was once again an early riser-5:00 a.m. We had to be up bright eyed and bushy tailed at this hour because we were sharing a rented vehicle with Ben and Nancy to take us to Rio Dulce. Four passengers, a driver, and all our overly stuffed luggage/backpacks were piled into a Rav4 for the trip that normally takes five hours. Our driver, Sergio, had other ideas about how long this trek should take and was able to cut it down to three and a half. At times it felt as if my cheeks were being pulled back by the ludicrous speeds he would reach. I wouldn't doubt it if on some of the sharp turns (which had no guardrails) we were on two wheels instead of four. All in all it was a pretty exciting road trip. We had reached the dock that would take us up the Rio Dulce to Livingston with time to spare. The Rio Dulce is a wide river that flows from Lake Izabal, Guatemala's largest lake, into the Caribbean Sea. It is located on the small piece of coast that Guatemala has between Belize and Honduras. The river is known for its marine wildlife such as manatees and crocodiles. Hot springs are commonly found along the river's edge gushing from underground currents that flow through the jungle rocks. Faith and I didn't know much about the Rio Dulce and Livingston except for the minor role it has in our Let's Go! Travel Book. Nancy, who was showing Ben all of her favorite places in Latin America, highly recommended it and we enjoyed their company so much we decided to follow along. We originally planned to simply stay a night or two in this area and then continue on to Copan, Honduras and possibly Antigua, Guatemala on our way back home to San Cristobal. These plans dramatically changed once we sat our butts in the boat that took us on an epic jungle cruise up the Rio Dulce. Our boat was launched at 9:30 a.m. and took us through mangroves that had majestic cranes sunning themselves in the branches, we passed thatched roof huts on stilts where the owners could be seen traveling or fishing out of their hollowed out canoes. Livingston can only be reached via a boat ride up the Rio Dulce and the villages that we past along the way are far more remote than anywhere we have been thus far. The sense of an older way of life was everywhere as we spent the next hour and a half passing by tall cliff walls covered in vines and effervescently green plantlife. Pelicans and other aquatic birds flew beside us as if they were racing us.

We made a couple stops along the route and one of them had a small riverside bar/restaurant and a cave that could be explored for 15 Quetzales (just under $2 US) each. Do you think we could pass something like this up? Of course not, so we met our local guide and he handed us flashlights. Three other travelers and us hiked into the jungle where the cave mouth opened inviting us in. The opening to the cave couldn't have been larger than six feet in heighth and four feet in width. We expected to simply view a hole in the ground and come back, that wasn't the case, we were going to get our Quetzales worth.

The guide took us into the cave, the natural light faded behind us, we went down a wood ladder and made a 180 degree turn into the caverns below the Earth's surface. We continued through the pitch black passageways naturally formed by rushing water and the temperature and humidity began rising due to the hot springs nearby. The guide pointed out interesting rock formations as he proceeded to take us further into this subterranean world. The ground was muddy, our boots stuck to the wet floor, and we noticed our guide was barefoot, probably for good reason. We squeezed through narrow cracks until we reached an area large enough to stand upright. Bats huddled in dark corners and squeaked expressing their annoyance with our intrusion. We had walked over ten minutes and I asked how far these cave paths continue, to which our guide said about forty minutes. We took some pictures, let the claustrophobic panic come and pass, and then retraced our steps back to the dock where we found Ben and Nancy casually drinking out of coconuts. Onwards and towards we went until we passed a Spanish fort on the delta where the Rio Dulce dumps into the Caribbean. We were beginning to think that Disneyland's Adventureland had been strongly influenced by what we were surrounded by. The Spanish fort was built sometime around the 1600's to fend off pirates (of the Caribbean) because they often used the Rio Dulce as a hiding place to await ships coming from Europe which they would plunder for all their booty and dabloons. Livingston, with its atypical name compared to those such as Huehuetenango, Chisec, and Sayaxche which come from Mayan languages, received it's name from the American jurist and politician Edward Livingston who wrote the Livingston Codes which were used as the basis for the laws of the liberal government of the United Provinces of Central America in the early 19th century. The population of Livingston is somewhere around 10,000 and is composed of people of the Garifuna culture, Maya, and ladinos. The Garifuna are descendants from the slaves that were brought into the islands of the Caribbean. Their culture blended with that of San Vicente island and they make up 75% of the inhabitants of Livingston. The language they speak is a mixture predominantly of French, Spanish, and English. It was very interesting to hear and see so many different people and languages all in such a small place.

As we disembarked from our boat onto the Livingston dock we were met by several Garifuna teenage boys who offered to assist in our hotel finding. We walked with Ben and Nancy to their hotel, and the boys followed. They pointed out a few interesting things along the way-crocodiles in a concrete enclosure, a large iguana resting on a palm tree all while recommending the hotel they must work for. We wanted to check out the hotels we had read about in our travel book and they insisted on accompanying us. We walked up and down Livingston's one major street that is lined with shops, restaurants, travel agencies, and small outdoor vendors. Along the edge of the street on both sides are gutter type trenches where the liquids of these buildings are deposited. Certain areas the flow must have been blocked because they were releasing unpleasant odors. This and the presence of garbage around the main part of town was evidence of how hard it is to manage waste in such an isolated place.

Faith and I met several hotel owners and peaked into the rooms they offered. We are not picky about where we stay, but we definitely prefer places that seem clean and safe. After a few options we came upon Casa Rosada. We opened a cute wood fence and noticed the nicely manicured plants and flowers. One of the happiest little Latin grandmas hummed a tune as she showed us the cabanas they offer. Inside the bamboo huts were simple accommodations-two beds with mosquito nets, a mirror, and a night stand. The furniture in the rooms were exotic and rustic and had a Gilligan's Island feel to them. The bathroom and showers are shared with the other six neighboring huts at Casa Rosada. We loved the energy here and immediately booked the cabana. Casa Rosada runs their business in a unique fashion. They allow their guests to freely open the refrigerator and take the sodas, beers, and waters inside. There is a binder where your name is on a piece of paper and you are to mark down everything you have helped yourself to. You don't even consider cheating this system because it is so refreshing to see such trust being given to you.

Casa Rosada is a five minute walk away from the busy main street of Livingston and has a beautiful view of the Rio Dulce and all the jungle and mountains on the other side of the river. They have a long dock that goes out into the river that has a palapa at the end with hammocks where you can swing over the water and watch the birds and boats go by. You can reach the point of ultra relaxation here. They have a canoe you can rent, they have grass to sit on, sand to dig your toes into, and a restaurant that cooks amazing breakfast, lunch, and dinner.



We wanted to experience Livingston culture while there and were recommended a small restaurant that served the traditional dish of Tapado. Tapado is a soup made from coconut milk broth chock-full of plantains and locally caught seafood-crab, calamari, fish, shrimp, scallops, etc. I am not much of a seafood eater, but I loved it and even ordered it again another night at Casa Rosada. The seafood is still in its natural form and you have to do all the work to get the meat, makes you appreciate it more having to earn the bites.

We slept the best we had on this entire trip under mosquito nets that were draped over us. The next morning we heard about some local sites and decided to walk along the beach to find them. Along the way we met a Garifuna man named Polo Martinez. According to Polo he is a local celebrity and has traveled the world playing reggae. We chatted for a while with him and he gave us his perspective on the Garifuna lifestyle and socio-economic issues facing his people. He offered to take us through the Garifuna community and we met families along the walk and even entered a home where an elderly woman who was bedridden due to a recent hurricane welcomed us in. We were honored to have been given this experience and wanted to know more about the Garifuna. Polo mentioned that he runs a feeding program for the less fortunate Garifuna in Livingston. We offered our help in the kitchen or wherever we could get involved, but he told us the people might be alarmed by outsiders so we donated a small amount of money to his cause instead. We then leisurely walked along the beach admiring the seashells, canoes, birds and the never ending ocean before us. It was a beautifully warm day and we loved the contrast of landscape where the jungle meets the beach. Much of this brought back pleasant childhood memories of when I lived in Puerto Rico with my family for two and a half years.

Back at Casa Rosada we were looking over things to do while in Livingston and they had a guided jungle hike by the local Q'eqchi' Maya which included food and other activities. We signed up and were met the next morning by Avelardo and Humberto, two Q'eqchi' Maya in their twenties dressed in clothes that looked too nice for a jungle hike. We started off going further away from the busy part of Livingston where the road changed from paved to dirt. We chatted with our new friends about how old they were, where they live, and the planned hike. We passed homes and a group of men forcing a noncompliant ox out of a boat and into a truckbed. The dirt road that we were on is the only road to and from our guides' village of Plan Grande Quehueche. According to our guides their small community of around 350 individuals began when five families decided to relocate from Coban to the Livingston area about 60 years ago. Since then the descendants of those five families combined with other Q'eqchi' now make up the 60 families who reside in the Livingston area. The Q'eqchi Maya are one of over 30 Maya groups present in Guatemala and can be found in regions such as Coban and Peten.

We turned off the main road and headed into farmland owned by some of their fellow community members. We became increasingly interested in the lifestyle of the Q'eqchi and began asking questions about their agricultural methods and land use. Avelardo and Humberto were very open and candid with their answers and really helped to paint us a picture of how life is in the rural areas surrounding Livingston. During our hike they pointed out plants that they use for different medicines, plants for basket making, edible plants, the crops being harvested, and names and descriptions of plants we were curious about. For being so young we were impressed by the abundance of knowledge they had about their environment. They broke sturdy branches and gave them to us to use as walking sticks when they noticed our occasional slip. Faith and I enjoy the outdoors and hiking, but this was nothing like we had done before. These trails were only recognizable to our guides and the terrain was rather treacherous at times. We let these virtual strangers get us lost in the jungle and let them guide us blindly into the unknown. At one junction of the trail Faith almost jumped out of her Chaco's when we saw a snake on the ground that had to have been over six feet long. Luckily the snake was dead, but Faith wasn't taking any chances and kept her distance from it anyways. We were on the trail for over four hours when we finally came upon their village. We knew we were getting close when we started hearing and seeing the pigs run freely on the trails we were on. Fences were built up around their milpas (corn fields) to keep these loose pigs from eating their crops. The Q'eqchi' build houses on a large scale and we passed several colossal wood slat structures with thatched roofs. We were shown the path to their restaurant which had been decorated with live ginger plants lining the walkway.

Before we could rest our feet our new friends had something they wanted to show us. They took us past the restaurant kitchen and into the jungle once again. We stopped when we reached a hole in the ground no bigger than three feet in diameter. We were handed lit candles and were told to follow them into this portal into what lay beneath the surface. This cave was even smaller than the one we had gone into during our jungle cruise and were forced to crawl on our hands and knees at times to keep from bumping our heads against the top of the cave. Hot melted candle wax dripped onto our hands while we spelunked and the dim firelight cast nefarious shadows across the cave walls. We went further than we were comfortable with, but Faith was a good sport even after having to walk inches past the largest cave spider to have ever lived.

Plan Grande is a community made up of individuals who sustain themselves through agriculture. We learned how families lend helping hands to one another and are repaid when they are in need of assistance. The land that the original five families accumulated has since been distributed between their descendants, each receiving the appropriate amount of land needed to sustain their families. If the family is to grow and require additional farm land, other families lend pieces of their property under the condition of receiving a portion of the harvest. The community has leadership positions such as presidents and secretaries whose terms last two years. At the end of each term the cabinet gets together and decides on who in the community will be the next to take the seat and the individual is surprised with their new role. If anyone doesn't fulfill their duties appropriately the community comes together and gives advice and ideas to better assist the person. We asked about crime amongst their community to which they replied they rarely have incidents. The community is so small in size that everyone is aware of each others' business and this transparency is a strong deterrent to act up. Since everything seems to be communal and shared we wondered how the restaurant and cabanas available are set up. According to Avelardo and Humberto twenty families from the community combined their efforts to build this restaurant and cabanas with the hopes to create tourism. The other families opted to not be involved, but from what we understood they are given chances to essentially "buy in" if they would like to. The lodging here within the jungle has been given the name Hotel Flor de la Montaña (Flower of the Mountain Hotel). The cabanas available can house up to twelve guests at a time in large wooden buildings with comfortable beds with mosquito nets and a shared bathroom. Included in our tour was lunch which was served in a kitchen where the women made the tortillas by hand. The table was set with fine dining place settings of the fork, knife, spoon and napkin. We had heard that the Q'eqchi' have been involved in a project where free schooling is provided for those willing to dedicate two years of working within the tourism industry that the organization has also put together. The youth receive free education and then learn practical skills such as restaurant work, hotel work, artisan craftmaking, and tour guiding. The organization's name is Ak' Tenamit and can be seen here at http://www.aktenamit.org/. All of these skills were evident by the level of service these young men were providing. We saw that they were going to eat their food at a table by themselves and invited them to share our table. Our half day excursion was almost over, but Faith and I felt like we hadn't gotten enough of this magical place we had just discovered. We asked about the lodging, pricing, and transportation back into town. Plan Grande is highly structured and organized. The community shares two vehicles and operate them on a set schedule. Every hour one of the two vehicles returns to the community and offers rides into town to anyone who would like to go for the cost of 10 Quetzales. Along the way any of the community members can hop on if they would like to ride into town as well. Faith was beside herself seeing this level of organization, she loves that kind of stuff, and I wanted to know more about them in general.

So, needless to say, we extended our stay in Livingston and set up another guided tour for the following day, but this time we would be spending the night in their village. We walked through their community, passed their plaza, church, meeting house, and small general store to get to the dirt road where the next vehicle would take us back to Casa Rosada. Had we known all this was available we would have stayed that night too, but we had left our backpacks back in town. The next morning Avelardo and Humberto greeted us and we boarded the truck bed and began riding through town. When we got far enough down the beach we got out, left our bags with them and began walking along the beach. We collected seashells that look like beautiful sunsets. We were headed for the Siete Altares (Seven Altars), a series of natural water pools you can swim in. The lower pools were shallow since there hadn't been a good rain in a while, but the main pool was delightfully deep and cold too. We excitedly changed into our bathing attires (Faith has a whole new concept of privacy now) and set our stuff aside. There was no one there to bother us, but nature wanted to intervene- jumbo disgruntled black ants were livid with our being there and showed us how mad at us they were by stinging us between the toes. Honestly, mosquito bites are nothing when compared to these ant stings, I would rank them up there with bee stings. After the swim we hiked through the jungle on different trails than the day before back to Plan Grande. Our packs had been nicely stowed in the cabana we would be staying the night. We had lunch with our friends and it seems the word had gotten out that there were extranjeros (foreigners) that were going to be staying within the village. Small children shyly peaked between the cracks in the doors and giggled and looked away as we smiled and greeted them. We learned of a community meeting being held, so we rested in our rooms and enjoyed the rainforest noises, sights, and smells until dinner time. We ate tortillas made by hand, chicken that was probably killed that day, and fresh lemon grass they had just cut. As we were finishing up dinner people from the community started showing up and introducing themselves to us. We were the only visitors, but the entire community came out to welcome us. Part of their welcoming involves a traditional Mayan ceremony where flowers and candles are placed in a circle on the floor. Each candle was a different color and so were the flowers which were shaped into a cross inside a circle. Each candle represented a cardinal direction and were the four colors of the corn (red, white, yellow, black). There was also a blue candle representing the sky and a green candle for the earth. Four women in their typical dress held incense burners and walked around the circle, went outside, and repeated this three times.

One of the traditional instruments in Guatemala is the marimba, a xylophone type instrument that is hit with mallets and can be played by three individuals at the same time. Once the welcoming ceremony was through the party began! Marimba tunes were jammed by three Q'eqchi' men and the women got up to dance. After a short while Faith and I were both invited to dance by members of the community and we had a great time.




As the night wound down we thanked everyone for a lovely evening and bid them a good night. We couldn't believe we had just experienced all of this and felt like more people should know of this magical place. The next morning we had breakfast with Avelardo and Humberto and spoke with them about how they advertise and promote their business and hotel. It seems they only have two ads in two hotels in Livingston, one being Casa Rosada. We explained to them how special our time had been with them and that we would love to be able to contribute to the promotion of their jungle resort which we have begun through this blog.





Our trip was coming to an end and we had to get back home by the first of January because we were going to be hosting a guest back in San Cristobal. Faith and I exchanged information with Avelardo and Humberto and told them, "We don't want to leave here as tourists, we want to leave here as friends." We waited for the next vehicle to come by, sat by the general store, and then noticed a white eagle flying overhead. A beautiful ending to such a spectacular time.





We left Livingston with a very special feeling and we know this will not be the only time we will be there. I personally am interested in incorporating their lifestyle, being highly sustainable, and their ecological tourism into my future anthropological research. The people we met, the paradise they live in, and all the factors influencing their lives is highly fascinating.





We began our reverse jungle cruise tour and stopped at the same bar/restaurant as we had before where we went caving. This time I noticed the owners had dug out canoes and asked if I could take one for a spin. He helped me in, put a block of wood to keep my butt from getting wet, and set me off with a paddle. The canoe propelled easily, but was equally as easy to tip from side to side. It was a cherry on top type of experience to our unforgettable time in Livingston. Now all we had to do was get clear across Guatemala and into the middle of Chiapas by the next day.

Part 3 Christmas in Flores, Guatemala; Tikal and camping in the jungle

So we bid farewell to our jungle hut cabana in the Lacandon community of Lacanja and began our trek towards Guatemala. The journey out of Mexico and into the northern region of Guatemala takes you up the Usumacinta River on a boat to a non-descript bank on the river shore that you would pass if you didn't know it was there. We few international travelers walked up the muddy embankment and passed local women as they did their laundry by hand on the rocks in the river. Young girls carried water in jugs on their heads back to their homes. We had a "layover" here which consisted of us basically standing around a small general goods store with thatched roof houses surrounding it and a parking lot. Local Guatemalans have made a business out of exchanging pesos and other currency for the Guatemalan Quetzal here. Once the buses that were going to take us further arrived we strapped our luggage to the roof of these dilapidated vehicles. We decided that we were in a sacred place, because this seems to be where Greyhound buses have come to die. Our bus' windows would rattle open from the bumps in the dirt road, the axles would squeak, the chairs would wobble, and the whole thing vibrated and made noises every kilometer we traveled. We tested the stamina of our glutes for about three hours on this painfully rough dirt road. We did make a couple pleasant stops- one to spot out a crocodile in a pond we were passing, and another to see a six-foot boa constrictor cross the road. Some of us got out and took pictures of the snake which had to be thicker than my bicep. Soon after the road became a paved one and we passed papaya plantations, milpas, and other forms of agriculture along the way. We were traveling with San Juan Travel and they man the buses with a representative who will inform you of all the tour options they offer once at your destination, which was Flores, Guatemala. Flores is a beautiful city on an island within a lake, Lake Peten. There is a bridge that connects the mainland to the island and the island has a very quaint European streets feel. Tuk Tuk's (little red three wheeled mini taxis) are the main form of transportation here. The lake is surrounded by pristine jungle with little isolated villages spotted along the waterfront. San Juan Travel has a monopoly in Flores and even takes the entire bus to hotels for the travelers to check out. This seems very convenient, but it is also to ensure that they know where you are staying so they can sell you a tour package for the next day. We ended up choosing the Hotel Lacandona. Our room was on the third floor, two beds, ceiling fan, electric heated shower, patio with chairs and an amazing view of the lake. We booked the room, paid the 120 Quetzales ($15 US) for it and arranged for our tour of Tikal the next morning.


"Take the sunrise tour" is all we had been hearing from the people who have talked about Tikal tours so we purchased a package from San Juan Travel, of course. We arranged for them to pick us up at 4:30 a.m. and take us to the Tikal ruins. The package included hotel pickup, an english tour guide, and hotel return. We were planning on camping near the Tikal ruins the next night (Christmas Eve) and were told we could use our return trip the next day.


4:30 a.m. is a pretty disgusting time of day especially after having sat in buses for hours the day before, but we were very excited about our day's plans. We were picked up, had our luggage strapped to the roof again, and drove to the Tikal ruins. We were then dropped off, had some coffee and were introduced to Luis Oliveros, our tour guide. Luis is a local legend. His father was a tour guide in Tikal and he grew up selling sodas to tourists. He learned his English by hanging around those tourists and all the archaeologists who came to do work on the sites. He now gives the most amazing tours of Tikal and you can truly sense his passion and connection to the ruins. He is also well known for his appearance on the reality show Survivor- Guatemala season. The sunrise tour is somewhat falsely advertised. The name makes it sound as if you will be on temple watching the sun come up over the horizon illuminating the vast rain forest canopy. Instead it is just the earliest tour of Tikal available, the sun comes up as you group together for the tour. We aren't complaining simply informing. We were not upset about the timing because we were present during the most active hour for the local wildlife. Tikal is not just a ruin site. Tikal is also an ecological preserve that protects the animals that live in the jungles surrounding the ruins. Tikal is about the size of Disneyland and hasn't been completely excavated or uncovered. You hike on thin trails through the jungle for over twenty minutes at time before coming upon a giant temple. It truly is that magnificently lush and full of plant life. Aside from the beautiful flora the fauna were out scrambling looking for breakfast. We came upon groups of coatimundis, ocellated turkeys, agoutis, spotted beautiful birds in the branches, spider monkeys, and even woke up a family of howler monkeys. Luis Oliveros is much more than just a tour guide. He is an expert on the living organisms within Tikal. He knew how to coax the coatimundis to get closer, pointed out the alpha males, explained which trees certain birds preferred and the most impressive was his howler monkey call. He clapped and grunted rapidly which set off a cacophony in our portion of the jungle. He stirred up those howler monkeys and got them to belt out some of the most primal screams I have ever heard. From my prior schooling in Biological Anthropology I learned that howler monkeys are different than their spider monkey neighbors, they have been pushed into the niche of eating unripened fruit and leaves which has lead them to evolve a chamber stomach system to help them ferment these greens. This requires a substantial amount of bodily function, reducing their ability to be quick and agile. To distinguish themselves and their territory they defend it audibly and have also evolved a bone in their chest cavity that resonates creating the beastly howl they are famous for. The screams of a howler monkey can be heard over a kilometer away.


We listened to Luis' wisdom and knowledge as we climbed up temple faces, housing structures, and ritual sites. The main temples of Tikal are being preserved, but can still be climbed through elaborate wooden staircase that have been built to reach the top portion of each temple. We were able to view the rain forest from a totally different perspective. We could see green tree tops as far as your eyes could see with a few temple tops piercing through and making their presence known above the canopy. Luis explained the reason of the positioning of each of these temples, the rulers they commemorate, and the interpretations of the history left in stone. It was an ethereal experience which we cannot fully describe with words. As we have been saying this whole time- you must feel it for yourself to understand.


Our tour ended in the Grand Plaza where the most picturesque and famous temples of Tikal are. We wanted to be able to spend more time inside the park, but had to get camp set up so we left to build camp. Once our tent was nicely set up under a thick palm we returned to the park for our own personal tour as the sun set. Back at camp we cooked Christmas Eve dinner with our backpacking stove, miniature cook set, all using filtered local tap water. We have a sophisticated filtration system which begins by filtering out the harmful elements in the water, then we use Ultraviolet light to kill all the living organisms and parasites. We dined on mac n' cheese with tuna and broccoli cheddar soup. In the middle of the night Faith needed to use the restroom, but only felt comfortable if I accompanied her. After some grumbles I opened the tent flap and stood outside to wait for her. Well, it seems we had placed our tent on either the home or trail of some very disagreeable fire ants. I had barely woken up and now I was jumping up and down because my feet felt as if they had spontaneously combusted. I jumped back into the tent, but then noticed that these ants knew no boundaries, they had began infiltrating our inner sanctum. We had to then start flinging these ants out the flap before they got the chance to sting us. We learned our lesson about underestimating the jungle, don't know what exactly we could do to prevent this from happening next time, but we now know that taking late night pee runs can be very tricky.

Our Christmas morning this year was unlike any either of us have ever had before. Waking up in a tent in a rain forest offers a myriad of sounds and smells unlike any previous Christmas' we remember as kids. We unzipped our flap, took in a deep breath of warm tropical air and couldn't stop smiling thinking about where we were and how this trip has been so far. As we were tearing down camp and stuffing all our goodies into our packs a colorful toucan with a green and yellow bill hung in the palm above us picking at the berries. It was time for us to have breakfast ourselves so we headed over to the Jaguar Inn restaurant and had a nice meal.

We took the first return bus back to Flores and booked a room at the Hotel Lacandona for the night. Looking out our balcony at the lake we saw kids jumping off a nearby dock, sounded like a pretty good idea to us so we quickly changed into our swimwear and joined them. We splashed in the cool clean lake water for a little while before we had lunch at a restaurant called Villa del Chef. Two German brothers started this restaurant and offer great ambiance accompanied by traditional Guatemalan cuisine including a fish they spear hunt nightly that is only endemic to Lake Peten. They are also humanitarians and have started a playground building project for the local schools. Our day wasn't all warm weather and good times though. We needed to get in touch with our families to wish them Happy Holidays, but finding a decent internet cafe on an island in the middle of a lake on Christmas proved to be a problem. We fought with computers that had Skype capabilities but the speakers didn't work, computers that had a USB port for our MagicJack but no Skype capabilities. We ran around town popping into every open internet shop until we found a hotel that offered a computer that wasn't built in the late 80's.

Christmas 2010 will forever be a special memory for us and we hope you were entertained by how unconventional it all was. We enjoyed our time in the Peten Region of Guatemala and spontaneously formulated the next portion of our journey- sharing a rented car and driver with our friends Ben and Nancy and going to Livingston which is a city on a river where it meets the Caribbean Sea.