We’ve been in Guatemala for a month already! Time flies when you’re sweating up-hill on bumpy roads. We last left off with our friends we now refer to as the river homies. Pedaling up and out of undulating asphalt to reach the lake of Peten Itza. As we rarely foresee the difficulty of the routes we choose on digital maps, we chose the long way around the lake to reach the city of Flores.
After camping in a small park on the water where the local youth come to smoke their morning doobs, we bumped along small towns and pushed our bikes up many a hill to reach the town of San Jose. We use an app called iOverlander for finding camping spots and other useful travel info and as we habitually searched its depths, Casa Coco showed up near us. We somehow ended up missing the proper turn off and soon had to push our bikes up the steepest incline we have yet come across. It looked like they just laid the road on top like a carpet over a cliff.
As we rode up, flushed and winded the family waved at us as if they already knew we were coming. After a brief introduction they realized we weren't the Argentinian couchsurfer they were waiting on. Ha! But as generosity has continued to accompany us on this trip they showed us to their covered patio section where we could set up our tent. Maria Luisa the woman of the household let us know that she often hosts a lot of foreigners in a kind of immersion home-stay. For years she has been making coconut oil and avocado oil by hand with only hand powered machines and her outdoor wood burning stove. She also recently has started a values workshop/day care for kids where the local children come to learn afterschool about the values of compassion, cooperation, and integrity. We were really interested in learning about the coconut oil making process and decided we would stay another day to learn and participate in the process.
After a long day of heat, sweat, laughter, and dance we nearly accomplished the coconut oil making process. The only thing left was the overnight separation of the cream from the water. We made a step-by-step video of the whole process with scientific nomenclature commentary (cream particles). We are grateful for this experience and inspired by all the hard work that goes into this process. We both have been long standing members of the church of coconut oil for many years but had never realized the amount of sweat that flavors this holy substance. Here is the video we made about the process:
We packaged a few little jars before leaving and were on our way to the town of Flores. We found refuge with the firefighters in town and worked on belated postcards we had picked up in Belize. The next day we set out with the goal of finding a post office to send our love letters and were disappointed to find out that the post office in the whole country has been out of service for many years. The only way to send stuff is to send packages through carrier services (not cheap for postcards) or travel to a neighboring country. So it goes. After pedaling through jungle plains we found ourselves taking a detour to the lesser known ruins at El Ceibal. The off-road ups and downs physically and emotionally of taking this detour ended at the parking lot of the entrance to the archeological site. We talked to the guard and realized the entrance to the park for foreigners was too much for the both of us to do. So a bit defeated we sat down to take a break and eat a snack. Being the only ones there besides the workers, the guard offered us some avocados that had fallen from the towering ancient trees. He showed us the model replica of the site and after we started showing more interest he casually mentioned he could let us in for just the price of one entry. So we happily accepted his offer and went on our way to explore the ruins. It turned out to be more of a natural reserve park hiking experience than a manicured and restored archeological site. As we weaved through hanging vines and jungle undergrowth we could make out the foundations of ancient structures long overtaken by mother nature.
We traversed a lot of this park to reach the access to the river that is one of those wide amazonic type rivers that looks like the backdrop of national geographic wildlife segment. Upon returning to the entrance we were allowed to camp for the night in the grass in front of the worker buildings. In the morning we headed back to the road and in an out of small towns. After a brief stop in a lake where everyone was washing clothes and were laughed at for slipping in the sludgy mud, we stopped with a family that offered us a room in their small home. The next morning we decided to take a break from the heat under the shade of a palm tree plantation. We usually have a daily practice of a combination of stretching, exercise, and acrobatics. On this particular day, a slight miscommunication and a bit of exhausting caused us to slip up and Ernesto sprained his thumb. Down and out for the day we set up camp under the palm fruit trees and got ice from a nearby village. The next day, still a bit sore and unable to bike we coasted to the closest bus pickup spot and took transportation to the town of Cobán. We sought out the fire station per usual but they were unable to host us and directed us to the Red Cross which was actually perfect synchronicity. We were able to rest up there for two days and get checked out at their medical clinic. Luckily no fractures, and with a prescription for rest, we took it easy out of the town. Traveling only a few kilometers each day for the next few days we had a lot of time to rest and we stayed with the fire fighters almost every night for a week straight in every town that we stopped in. One of the highlights of our fire station sleepovers was sleeping in a new ambulance that the station had just recently acquired since they didn't have much space in their small headquarters. The textile of the local attire had started becoming more and colorfully intricate and we really enjoyed people-watching and appreciating the works of art that brightened the streets and marketplaces. Also the hills had become mountains and our journey, as most cycle-tourers would agree, had become exponentially more “fun”.
The geographical boundaries created by these physical barriers seem to delineate different cultural regions as well. We passed through what must have been 5 different linguistic/cultural zones over the course of the week we were biking through the mountains. K’eqchi to Pocomchi’ to K’iche’ to Ixil to Mam. The sweet sweet descent came on our way down to the head of the department(state) of Huehuetenango. Our plan was to stop in with some couchsurfing homies leave our bikes in their care and go on a multi day hike through the mountains we had just traversed. We got the idea from reading blogs of people who had done the hike with adventure guided tours, obviously we wanted to find our own way. But as usually goes when you make plans they inadvertently morph into something else. A few days after arriving at the couchsurfing haven where we were greeted by our gracious family and many fellow travelers Annina came down with a gnarly bout of turbulent stormy waters. Luckily the host we were staying with is a biochemist and runs her own laboratory for medical analysis. After getting the results and going to the regional hospital to get a prescription for the cocktail of amoeba, bacteria, and parasites having a rager in her stomach, we made it back to homebase to start another recuperating phase. A few days of sleep, fluids, and antibiotics and the light began to shine again. Ready to get back to adventuring we packed our lil backpacks and prepared to go hiking. Our hosts wanted to check out some of the river spots near Aguacatan and so we got to do both hang with the homies and get closer to the start of our hiking adventure.
A bit of foreshadowing for how the rest of the week would be, it rained as we started hitchhiking towards Sacapulas. We slept next to a chainsaw and an oxygen tank in the emergency room at the local fire station. An early start got us to Nebaj where we had our first taste of box bol the traditional veggie dish from the Ixil region from a lady selling in the central square. It’s a delicious little meal of maize cooked inside of squash leaves topped with pumpkin seed sauce and a spicy tomato sauce. We knew we went to the right lady when a small crowd of locals was forming to get the goods from the chef. After loading up on some water we walked straight out of the center square and soon the pavement turned into dirt road path.
The steepness starts right away and it continues like that for days. On the first night we made it into the town of Acul where the middle school drumline was preparing their performance for the impending independence day celebration. We asked at the local town hall where we could sleep for the night and they told us we could sleep on a covered platform/bus stop. We soon realized we should have not been so cheap and stayed in one of the local overnight accommodation places. Throughout the night we were visited by the local pack of dogs and also the two town drunks as it rained around us. After a bit of a rough night of sleep, we packed our bags and walked onwards and upwards. We got a small hitch-ride to the next start of the trail after the village of Xexuxcab and were walking amongst groups of women and men on their way to tend to their fields of corn or take care of their grazing animals on the hills.
Most with machetes, some balancing loads on their heads, lots of babies strapped to backs, everyone doing the same steep trail we were walking. We stopped for a quick snack break eating the homemade trail mix he had prepped and as they passed no one was shy in asking for a handful of the nut and seed mix. After we made it to the next town of Xexocon and refueled with handmade tortillas and refried beans the switchbacks greeted us with open curves and incessant rain. In the depths of the cloud forest we trudged along slow and steady as our legs were still adjusting to the contrast of hiking from cycling. When we arrived at the end of the switchbacks the landscape changed into a foggy rock laden hillscape, it almost felt like we might stumble upon the mayan version of Stonehenge.
We then passed through the small village of Chatuj. We continued on the misty trail through forest and sheepherding pastures. We arrived in the late afternoon into the village of Chortiz, thoroughly drenched and catching a slight chill from the elevation. We talked to a few men named Juan and then found out that they let travelers stay in a little wooden cabin. He talked about how he had worked in the states for 15 years in order to build his house here and buy some land to grow corn and beans near Xexocon. He also retold some of his experiences living as a young child through the diaspora caused by the civil war and how they lived in camps in the woods and often went hungry. He offered us a temazcal bath and after a bit of discussion we decided to take it and it was indeed a glorious bath of warmth. Wrapped in copious blankets we made some hot cocoa that warmed our insides. Inside the temazcal which is just a small wooden structure enough to crawl into we warmed up with hot water and the smoldering coals. The family gifted us some potatoes to cook up(their only harvest for consumption up there besides oats for the animals). As we cooked up some lentils, rice, and potatoes we read up on some of the books they had that talked about the local history particularly the effect of the Guatemalan civil war on the highland region. Wrapped in blankets and listening to the rain come back we drifted to sleep hoping for a better world. We kept on the trail the next day and soon found ourselves rambling the hills in search of it and finally reconnecting with it when it started raining again. We started our muddy descent to the river crossing. We climbed back on the other side of the river to the small village of El Pericon where we found it difficult to find someone who would let us stay in their home so we went to the local school and the teachers let us stay in one of their classrooms. There was a group of kids watching everything we were doing and kept wanting to see what weird tricks we could entertain them with. In the morning after an early breakfast the kids started strolling in and we packed our bags and agreed to teach them a few activities. The teachers in these rural communities have a lot of work to do because the school is usually run by one or two people and they have the whole village to teach and a variety of age groups. One of the teachers really wanted us to teach them some new drum rhythms because she wasn’t really a music teacher and like most of the schools they were preparing for independence day. After going around and playing with the different drum sections we did a couple of creative theatre type games that made encouraged them to play with their imaginations. After some atol, bread , and bananas, we said our goodbyes and were smothered by little hugs.
We climbed out of the drainage that the village is situated in and came onto another high elevation plain and reached the so called dirt road. We saw our first cars in a few days and caught a dusty ride with a truck carrying sacks of potatoes and all the harvest workers. We got dropped off near the highway and hitched up to the last segment of trail. We stayed with a family that regularly hosts the guided hiking tours and foraged some dandelion greens, mustard greens, and elderberry off the side of the road. In the morning we climbed up to the highest point of the hike and were guided by a spirit guide dog that allowed us to tag along on a journey that seems it has done many times. A bit of an anticlimactic summit that had a weather tower at the top but the descent was probably one of the gnarliest we’ve ever climbed. Many times we asked ourselves, “Who the hell hikes this forsaken route?”
As we descended the forrest was vibrant with green moss, lichen, and a variety of fungus. The weirdest of endings was when the “trail” we were on joined with a well maintained ecotourism trail with wooden railings, steps, and rest areas. Finally back on the road we took a collectivo to the town of Todos Santos Cuchumatanes our final destination for this mini-trip within a trip. We walked around enjoying the vibrant culture of traditional fashion that both men and women express. After talking with a few locals and visiting the local cooperative with used and older versions of textiles, we decide to get some custom pants made. We went to a tailor in a small wooden shack and he told us he could make the pants by later the next morning. The next day was Saturday the big market day in the town so there were a lot of people from the local communities who came into the town to sell their produce, wares, and supplies. The town was alive with color and movement. We picked up our pants and immediately put them on and walked outside feeling really cool but also getting a lot of stares.
We walked out of town got a few hitch rides and came out of the cold foggy mountains back into the valley of the city of Huehuetenango where low key Independance days festivals and parades were well under way. We’re now back at our friends house preparing for the long awaited return to the two wheeled steeds. Here is the video recap for the month!
Anything that has really inspired you recently? Any difficult, awkward situations that have really made you laugh? How has the navigation of your reality been?
Grateful greetings and marmalade meetings,
Annina & Ernesto
