On The Road Again

Caminate, no hay camino se hace. Camino al andar. - Antonio Machado, Poet (There is no path. The path is made by walking.)

It has been just over three weeks since I flew out of Vancouver into Cancun, Mexico and it has taken a few weeks to get back into the rhythm of traveling. Getting use to getting lost (and finding your way out), miscommunicating with locals, sleeping in dorms with other travelers (and getting woken up from multiple alarms or snores) and moving from one unknown town or city to the next. Was I getting too old for this or was I just out of practice? Like easing into a warm bath, it has taken a little time to get back into traveling and the balance of exploring the "great unknown" (at least for me) and meeting new people and having new experiences while also being cautious. After all, street crime, long standing government corruption, poverty and the affects of the narco trafficking are realities in Central America.

But where else can you crouch in a mini-van with 31 other crammed adults and kids, Spanish pop pumping from the speakers and a teen "conductor" yelling out the door. And all this for the meager price of..... 22 cents. Love it. I also find any image I have of a place, usually doesn't turn out to be in reality. Each place has a feel to it which is difficult to capture in words.

My first couple weeks, I was moving pretty fast through México, Belize and Northern Guatemala along the "Gringo" or Mayan route. As you travel, you will find these travelers' routes that trace and intersect the world going north, south, east and west with cheap accomodations, amenities like internet shops, travel agencies and comfort food restaurants. These routes are often dictated by price, safety, convenience and interesting sites. Whether it is Cario to Capetown, Japan to Turkey,  or here in Central America.

I decided to start my trip by revisiting one of my favorite beaches that is next to the Mayan ruins in Tulum. Some 10 or 15 years ago this beach was deserted with only 6 other travelers and a couple of fisherman, clear aqua blue waters and fine white sand. We had to sneak into the beach from the hostel and bring all our food and water as there was nothing around. Tulum was a small dusty road town. Things have changed. The water and sand were there but like most settlements along the Mexician Caribbean side, the town is getting built up catering to tourist from all inclusive resorts to budget travellers and the beach, still pleasant to take nap on was definitely more crowded with more garbage and bars. Gone was the pristine beach of my younger days.

A quick hop over to Chetumal and off on a ferry to Caye Caulker in Belize. One word of advice if you flew into Mexico and leave by land, bring your plane ticket receipt to avoid paying the $30 non-immigrant fee. Now, I will use a term that I was not expecting to write. Honest Mexican official. Yes, the immigration officer actually let me use his phone to download my airplane ticket receipt to prove that I had paid this fee. I was shocked (and grateful).

Caye Caulker is a small island near Belize City and close to a diving land mark, the Blue Hole. Literally, a sink hole that is several km deep. I can't swim so didn't dive and need more swimming lessons to get beyond the "sea turtle" rating. I did go on a fishing and snorkeling trip and the waters were full of fish and conches which made an excellent lunch after. Caye Caulker definitely has a Caribbean feel to it with more Rasta culture, the standard Bob Marley song playing and everything and everyone seems to be on "island time". I would highly recommend a restaurant called "Little Kitchen" tucked behind a residential home and up two flights of stairs. Walk past the smiling family washing their clothes, the barking dog and garbage strewn back yard and you will find some divine conch frittas. The conch pounded soft and with the right amount of spices and deep fried goodness. The grilled barracuda... ah, the white meat infused with garlic, chili and lime was tasty.

Caye Caulker also has a number of Cantonese  Chinese families who have taken over the corner store and fast food market on the island. In fact, ask any Belizean who "Simon Kwan is?" and they will tell it is the place to go in Belize city to get anything. Need a fridge... Need a pink plastic garbage can... Go to Simon Kwan's department store, it will have it. The store has been around since the 1970's and is apparently a land mark. However, I didn't stick around Belize and took a chicken bus out to San Ignacio. Belize city was hot, humid and full of crumbling buildings and from what I read, not the most inviting place to walk around with a big backpack. A little like some of the cities in Africa. According to some Slovakian travelers, Belize city is also a safe haven for their country's criminal boses.

In San Ignacio, the tour at Actun Tunichil Muknal cave (ATM) was excellent with Pacz Tours. The guide really cared about the ecology and well being of the cave. You had to swim in (I just hanged onto the guide's  back pack) and through winding, twisting tunnels, crawling, waddling in neck high water, you come to the sacrificial burial chambers of a Mayan settlement. From here you walk on socks and all that is separating you from some 1400 year old skulls and pottery is an orange string. I feel sorry for the poor souls who left there in the dark to die as a sacrifice for the underworld god and Chak, the Mayan rain god. Interesting, the Mayans believed the stalactites were the roots of their sacred tree and the caves were naturally the underworld while the tree represented heaven and earth above ground. There is also an excellent restaurant in San Ignacio named Ko-Ox Jan-nah and the daily special is particularly cheap and satisfying. For about $4, you can get a big plate of pig tail stew or bowl of cow foot soup. Delicious. I thought the pig tail tasted like bacon though visually not the most appealing to see.

I have been in Guatemala for over two weeks and thoroughly enjoying this country. Despite  the US State government conclusion that the Guatemalan  government is 100% corrupt, a brutal civil war from the 1970's to 1996 in which 200 000 people died with a fair number of them tortured and 'disappearing', high crime and gangs in the city, high poverty and difficulty to irk a living and an entrenched privileged class system dating back to Spanish Colonism, the people keep marching on. The people here seem proud to be Guatemalans and there isn't any animosity to outsiders or when you say no, they are OK with it. I find the beggers and stray dogs are even polite.

A little about the Narco traffickers. From what I gathered from locals and taxi drivers, there is a distinction made from the local traffickers and those encrouching from Mexico. It seems the local traffickers act almost as a supplement to the social welfare system and fills in some of the gaps the government has left out by building roads, schools and public works. In fact, a local stated when one of the bosses die, the town or village mourns. All the major bus companies are owned by Narco traffickers and in some small way, I have helped legitimize their money. Apparently, being a bus driver in Guatemala is a dangerous occupation given not only their driving styles but the rivaries between gangs, pressures to be under one gang or another and doing something they shouldn't be like robbing their passengers can get them killed.

There are plenty of sites to see in Guatemala and I went from pretty island town of Flores and the neighboring town of Santa Elena (much like the poorer, neglected half-sister) with great street food, the Mayan ruins of Tikal, the clear pools of Sempuc Champey and most recently the towns along Lago Atitlan. Surprisingly there were quite a number of Israelis in two of the towns I saw. One group that just finished their army service and another more traditional orthodox Jews in San Juan. With that, I must say there was some tasty hummus, falafels, and pita to be had. Almost as good as ones at the Tel Aviv bus station.

I also spent a week and a half at Quetzaltenango or locally known as Xela (Mayan name) to attend a Spanish school. I became rather fond of Guatemala's second largest city which felt more like a town. A little off the Gringo trail and not as touristed out, the city was compact, comfortable to get around and very local. I also liked there was plenty of Mayans in the North in their traditional atire of multi-coloured textiled clothing doing day to day things. I was surprised the Guatemalans are quite active, whether it was catching a 16 km road race in Corban, nuns playing basketball with a girl 's school team in San Juan or footbul on the streets.

Guatemala is very inexpensive for Spanish school. For about $250, I got 5 days of 5 hour one to one teaching, an activity every night and one week stay and food with a local family. I attended the Proyecto Linuistico Quelzalteco and found it very professional. The teachers all had multiple years of instructing and the school was quite politically charged and had discussions about Mayan dislocation, street kids in guayemela city, etc. Our guide on outtings (to a nearby volcano and hot spring) was an ex-guerrilla fighter who fought in the nearby mountains. He would tell us about the times he was carrying a machine gun or a battle at a finca (coffee or export farm) we saw. Oh yeah, there was also footbul every Thursday.

Off to sleep now in the colonial  and cobbled road city of Antigua and off to climb a volcano tomorrow to see some lava flowing.