Guatemala Part 5

I arrived back in Guatemala City and as I had heard nothing from anyone in Antigua and it was late I checked into a hotel in zone 1. I decided to go to the cinema and walked to zone 10 taking only the bare minimum with me. I watched Seven Pounds the new Will Smith film. Rosario Dawson really is incredibly good looking. I liked the film, but did not see where it was going for a while and the ending left a very bad taste in my mouth. Not that its wrong. It just jarred with me and my thoughts in the parts preceeding it. It got bad reviews. I think that harsh. I think it just slaps you in the face at the end. I shuffled back from the cinema and read some more under the very nice and warm blanket they provided. I had not been able to get hold of Ana this night, so figured I would not have got to meet her (would have been a tragedy). Everyone says I should be worried about being mugged in the city, but I wore my bobble hat and everyone crossed the roads to avoid me. I enjoy that effect. Makes me safer, though its amusing. I only had 0.40 Quetzals anyway (3p or so) so they would have been very disappointed muggers.

In the morning I grabbed a half shower and bought some new socks. Its an awesome feeling having new socks. They are so much silkier than old stuff you have washed. Never realised some new socks can have such a profound effect, but now I had real socks and shoes for the rest of this trip. I got hold of Ana with my last attempt. My luck was keeping up again. Though I had a fiasco escaping from Guatemala City. The original bus station in my old Lonely Planet had long since closed down and the transport police told me it was in some mythical place called Tres Bol. I thought I had worked out that it was the central bus station. So I hiked over there. No it wasn't and everyone I asked was talking about this Tres Bol. It sounded like some mythical land where buses could be found roaming the fields and enjoying their freedom. Some old man packed me into the back of some pick up and then buried me and another old man under some woman's preposterous amount of shopping. What was she feeding? The Spartan army. It meant we had to stand and practically truck surf. Which is actually kind of cool at 40 mph or more and felt a little like windsurfing. Try to hang on and don't get flattened by the wind. I was beginning to think this Tres Bol was like me using TCR (Tottenham Court Road) to anyone who was not from London. A ridiculous acronym. Anyway we helped the woman unload at a bus stop. It was like 2 tons of food. Noone could load that on a bus. Took 5 of us 10 minutes to unload it. Oh well. Nevermind. The driver tried to send me to Huehuetenango, because he could not understand me when I tried to pronounce Retalhuleu (Its fucking hard for an Englishman and still can't do it properly, which made many difficulties). Eventually he dumped me in the middle of nowhere (despite me paying him 5 Quetzals to get to the bus) and sent me over an overpass. Good job I understand some Spanish. Eventually I found the buses, but got herded onto one for Matzetenango. I was informed I could get an onward bound bus to Retalhuleu, but I was already running a little late. Dammit. Hmm halfway along the way there appeared to be a volcano erupting around Lago Atitlan with a perfect cloud just hanging there in the air. Very cool. Yet another local woman (after Comitan) decided to breastfeed her kid in the middle of the bus and the driver decided to go off road onto a part of the highway that had not been constructed yet, then bounce past that and round a truck carrying logs. Fuck V-Rally. Someone needs to make a computer game called Guatemalan Truck Driving or at least make a virtual machine for it. Better than most rollercoasters, because in your heart of hearts you know you will survive a rollercoaster. These trucks you can't be so certain on. Some random guards got on and gave our backs a tender squeeze. Yep that definitely proved there is nothing bad in those bags. We rolled into the suburbs of Mazatenango and I see a sign for Plaza America. Ah maybe it was this Plaza America I needed. I got off just in case and after ringing Ana found out it was indeed Mazatenango I was supposed to meet her at. Ah this was phenomenal news. My luck, that had deserted me badly in Dominican Republic was now back. I had got on the wrong bus that had actually ended up being the right bus. Beautiful.

Speaking in that vane I met Ana outside the shopping centre. Her first impression of me was apparently that I looked like a 'cute' Nazi. Its not the best first impression I have made lol. We started off in Spanish and once Ana realised I did not know that much we switched to a mix but mainly in English. I did get to talk a lot with her family in Spanish though. Her sister was possibly off to Rwanda soon and I said I would use the home office website to see what the situation was there at the moment. We went for a walk round the town in the evening and had a good chat in the evening, though both of us were tired and packed in early. All of her family were incredibly nice to me. They refused to let me pay for anything, even my exhorbitant gringo price for the archaeological site. The dog Fanny was crazy and spent too much time drinking from the sink water collector. Her niece was full of energy, but obviously a little uncertain of me at first, but it meant she behaved well lol. I think she has too much energy, in the same way that I apparently did as a child. Bodes well for her future. Both of the parents made me feel at home and I even had a few good conversations on travel with Ana's dad as best I can in my Spanish. Though these 3 days and the following 2 would unleash my Spanish to the next level. Now I have to fervently devour vocabulary and then go back to improving my grammar. It does not matter how beautifully your gun works, if you have no bullets to fire from it. Her sister Heidi wanted to practice English so we utilised a Spanglish construct of a little bit of both lol. Her dad tried to assure me that people in Europe would give the same reception to him if he visited. Once again I was confonted by the shame that we really don't have a clue how to host or create a community. When did we lose this? Was it our religion? Is that why we have no inherent dance traditions? Because protestantism was hostile to them. We have many good traits in England, but we have a lot of fucked up ones and they are the cause of our general national misery. We have lost track of whats important and how to find it. How many more glaring problems at home was this trip going to reveal to me. At least I was gathering all those different perspectives and insights I wanted for when/if I return home. I am even going to bore everyone with some philosophical musings soon as well lol. Call it tails from the trail.

In the morning we went shopping in Mazatenango. I met Ana's friend Paola and we chatted for a while in Spanish before I found out she studied in Texas and was much better at English than I was in Spanish. I stupidly paid for some stuff that cost 10 quetzals with a 100 quetzal note, thinking it was a ten. The woman clearly realised, but it took me 5 minutes to realise and by then when i asked she denied it and said I had used a ten. What a waste of 90 quetzals. Should have been paying attention. In the evening Ana and I chatted for till 1am and I realised that we got on very well and even that I was starting to quite like her. When my mind starts flashing images of certain Bodegas barmaids across my vision in this circumstance I realise something is tapping into something beyond my actual grasp. I realised that time was passing very well and I did not want to actually ever call an end to the conversation.

In the morning we got to pass along half of the route in the south west of Guatemala that Ana was trying to promote for her thesis to complete her qualifications in architecture and tourism. One direction we could not see because it was dangerous at that point, but the other way is very picturesque. It looped up through small mountain towns like Ruta de las Flores did, but it had the backdrop of two volcanoes. One taller and half white from all the volcanic ash the littler active one had spewed onto it. We then went past a theme park designed around the countries of the world and into the archaeological site of Abaj Talik. The foreigner price is ridiculous and Ana's dad tried to joke that I was their son lol. We walked around and took a guided tour, while I got to prove my reading of Spanish is better than my speaking. Its a small archaeological site but pretty and interesting in the bits I can understand. When we got back we sat in the lounge for a while. I entertained the niece with some face pulling games and also with a small bit of paper. She is 1 year old and was kept entertained by having to guess which hand it was in. We played this for a while. Sometimes I did not put the paper in either hand. That frustrated but delighted her. Always 'otra vez' lol. Then Ana and I went up for our nightly chat. Found out she loved 80s music and English rock. I think she'd fit in very well with my group of friends, considering at least 2 of them are stuck in the 1980s. Bit like San Francisco but even more tragic. We talked for a long time and I felt we obtained a very strong bond. By this point I liked her a lot and we'd talked on many things and on many ideas. This was going to be the sadest goodbye yet and then in one conversation about futures she seized both my hands so suddenly that a bolt shot right up me. Not had that kind of feeling for a long time. I think I was almost blown away by it and at that moment she was the most attractive I had seen her as. It still left a very powerful affect on me a few days later and I woke up startled in Panajachel as a clear image shot before my eyes of her. I can sort of imagine how people think they have a vision from god now. That image was so strong and so vivid from my subconscious that it knocked me awake. I ended up writing out a letter in Spanish clarifying my thoughts the day before yesterday in Lanquin and sent it yesterday. Was genuinely torn about moving on. Some of these goodbyes were getting tough and I don't even know if she had any interest or not outside of me looking like a 'cute' Nazi lol. I am trying to open myself up entirely on paper now. Its got to be the last fear. To conquer your own fears is personal. To allow your friends to see yours is chosen and selective. To put yourself entirely out on print is risky and intimidating, but I made a promise to myself to do it as best I can. I envy the fictional authors. You can give everything of yourself and hide behind it being a character. The irony is that factual authors have nowhere to hide and so its more emotionally honest if they can overcome the fear. I genuinely think Ana is one of the best people I have ever met and I know a lot of good people. I was sad to see the end of the night and even sadder to depart in the morning.

In the morning her dad gave me some silver coins from the year before his birth as a token of friendship. I was touched and also fearful. I had to keep these items safe for one year on me, when i had successfully lost virtually everything I started with. There weren't many originals left outside of clothes. Will have to see whats made it all the way. Ironically my knackered black trainers are still with me. I figured they would be long gone. That vivid image dream of Ana was like the one of England and I am worried my slumber has become disconnected from my reality. Maybe thats why my sleep has suffered a bit, because my body has lost track of where it is. I think I have discovered that you need an anchor while you are travelling. I don't really have one and although you can pilot through chaos for so long, I imagine you can slip away from a sense of reality. Maybe thats what happens to all the oddballs in hostels. Thankgod I have couchsurfing to plug me back in to the humdrums and wonderful things you overlook in everyday life. These people have their anchors and it helps. Anyway the dad gave me a lift to the bus station and we discussed religion and his duaghters wedding to his English son in law. I got on a bus for Xela and left the region.