Guatemala

I’ve been told by a friendly man in the bus that Guatemala is the land of eternal primavera; there is always a region where spring is in full flow.
A little bigger then England, 108,890 sq km, Guatemala is a country that has 12 million people. 50% to 60% are indiginous, mainly Mayan. The main language is Spanish, but all indiginous people speak Mayan which has approximately 80 separate dialects in different rigions, with Spanish as a second language. The traditional dress in those regions is different as well. The friendlyness off the people however is the same all over the country. From the coastal mangrove forests to the mountainous interior pine forests to the high cloud forests, the smiles of this country will bedazel you like sparkels flying of a want.

It was the country where I wanted to spend most of my time and where I ended up staying for only one week. And because I had lost my camera just before returning, I made the vow to come back one day and visit without deadline dates. Guatemala will capture your heart in many ways. Zooming from Mayan ruins to azul waterfalls, into caves and through spritual villages. All this wrapped in colorful ropes, cloth, houses, food, baskets and even the sematary where tombs are painted in happy pastel colors.

In nine days I traveled to the North of the country and back the capital in the South, way too much distance for the few days I had, but I really wanted to see the Mayan ruins in Tikal.

“The Mayan culture started before 2000 BC and ended fairly abruptly and mysterious in 900 AD. Of the New World’s three biggest pre-Colombian civilizations (Aztec, Inca and Maya), Maya is usually considered the greatest. During it’s peak (around AD 750), possibly 10 million people thrived in stone cities of up to 200,000 inhabitants. The Mayan turf sprawled over much of present-day southern Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, El Salvador and Honduras. The elite used Stelae (hieroglyphs) to record battles, reigns, beliefs and planetary movements. Atop towering blood-red pyramids were vaulted temples adorned with bas-relief tributes to the gods. Many who saw these cities were soon tortured and executed. The captured were not treated kindly.
Mayan cities as we know them best took shape during the Classic perion (AD 250-900), when Palenque, Tikal, Cobá and Copán flourished. Pyramids skyrocketed, topped with ornate stone roof combs, and all ornaments that were possible to make with plaster.
The Popul Vuh is the Mayan bible and tells that it took the great god K’ucumatz three tries to get humans right. First trying with mud and secondly with wood, the thirt time he used ground corn and water and succeeded. Maize (corn) has played a huge role to the Maya. Faces were tattooed like kernels, crucifix were shaped like corn husks and there are altars to Maize in even the Catholic churches.
Sacrifice was a huge ritual with the Maya. From deformed and perforated skulls, to offering infants, dogs and squirrels to the mayan gods. Woman slieced their tongues and man jabbed needles through their penises.
Maya believed time was cyclical and divided into 5200-year eras that end in destruction, followed by a new era and re-created universe. The present era is set for annihilation on December 23, 2012.”

The above text is copied from the ‘Central America on a shoestring’ Lonely Planet and will give you a little idea of the culture, background, feeling, air and splendour of the great cities I visited. Palenque, Copán and Tikal were all very different, but extremely loaden with heavy energy and mighty looking temples. Capán being very famous for the splendid stelae that are wonderly kept by nature, Palenque with other carvings and extreem beautiful surroundings and Tikal which is well excavated, hidden in jungle and super big. Asking me what side was better is useless cause my answer will be to viset them all to get a more complete understanding how those cities were build, ment and run.

In Tikal I stayed untill the sun set behind temple four, I hit in a temple complex and climed to the roof of a building (the park is forbidden after 6pm). Here I watched the fire flies, saw the white stones radiate the almost full moon and listened to the sounds of the jungle. Leaning back on my elbows I got a pinch from a little stone and rubbed my elbow. When after ten minutes the stinging didn't go away I looked what kind of stone it was and discovered a flat scorpion........ oeps. The next day I had tingling lips, very weird but normal according to a giude.

In 13 hours and with eight different transportation devices I shuttled myself along beautiful mountain roads, little bajareque houses (a construction of stones, wooden poles and mud), people selling their harvest on the side of the roads, smoking fireplaces, milpas (cornfields), thick jungle and bustling little towns. Descending in a wild valley I arrived to Semuc Champey with four new friends, met during the long ride. We stayed in an open hostel close to the action of this natural wonder and in the morning I took off a little earlier then the rest to experience the waterfalls and nature in peace.
Semuc Champey is a great natural limestone bridge; but looking down into the valley from the high lookout where I hiked up first, it only looks like the series of stepped pools with cool, fowing river water, ranging in color from turquoise to emerald green. Only when you explore the entrance and exit of the Rio Cahabón you understand how it works. This raging river enters a huge cave and exits an even bigger cave 400 m later. The pools are ontop of this cave and are excelent for swimming.
I was extremely lucky to start talking to the right parkwatcher because he asked me if I wanted to climb into this cave. He told me many interesting things and guided me step by step through a splashing waterfal and under the ledge untill I was standing intop of a huuuge rock under the ledge of the cave. The hall behind it had massive stalagtites and funky rock formations. It was dripping everywhere and little swallows were swifting between the drups and through the waterfall through which you could see the valley behind. It was absolutely awesome. There are no words to describe the discovery and surprised feeling you have when you duck your head under the ledge and see what has been formed over all those years. Wow!

Another day of traveling, this time along an extreme bumpy road. And it was here that my body put a hold to the adventure for 24 hours. My stomach cried out and my intestines had no more interest for liquid, with a result that it just passed through and excited with pressure. For the next ten days my intestines were upset, but I don’t blame them, instead of eating bread, creackers and water for two days I kept eating street food, a lot of milk and many weird fruits. Damn the system I wanted to inhale everything in those last few days.

Chichicastenango was my last stop in Guatemala. And what a stop, holy moly. This town high in the mountains is super fresh in the evenings, hot atol is served in the misty mornings and cool evenings. It’s the most spiritual and interesting place I saw during my few stops and I learned more about ceremonies and religion then anywhere else. Thursday and Saturday are thriving market days and it’s a hot spot for gaggles of camera-toting tour groups that not even enter the core of the market but just linger along the side stands where all the colorful souvenier-shit is stalled. It’s a shame, it takes away the whole 'indiginous village’ feeling, but on the other side: I want to see it too.

Luckily they all come around 10am and leave around 4pm, so when I woke up and climed the cobbled streets to the market in the dawn of day it was extremely peaceful. I helped an old man carrying his stand, sat myself in the center of the market and drank steaming atol with cornflakes while watching all the warm and colorful people setting up shop. Spices, vegetables, fruits, kitchen gear, the most colorful embroidered cloths, baskets, pottery, tons of bread-buns, mountains of chillies, rows of copal (the ceremonial incense), many colors of thread for all their handywork and many many many corners to eat, drink and have the 15 minute rest that is so well earned. It is absolutely amazing what those people can carry on their heads. Huge bundels with all off the above AND the wood for the stand is hoist in baskets or colorful scarfs that hang on their backs with a band over their forehead. There is no way I could carry what a 70 year old man, half my size is stumping up the hill for several km. I’ve never felt so stupid, small, weak, useless. I was writing my diary for an hour while they had barely time to sit down for ten minutes to gulp down an atol and eat a tamale before disappearing in the maze of the market for more heavy work. Embarrassing.

The church is build ontop of a Maya tempel in 1540 and the 18 steps leading to the main door represent the Mayan calander. Here chuchkajaues (mother-fathers, or indigenous prayer leaders) swing censers containing estoraque (balsam) insence and chant magic words in honor of the ancient Mayan calendar and their ancestors. Together with many colorful woman who sell very fresh and colorful flowers they occupy the steps and make the morning miss a not to be mised magical happening. The church was blue and hazy with the smoke from the copal and it smelled just perfect.

It was my best day in Guatemala, the afternoon spend watching shamen perform cleaning rituals near the shrine of Pascual Abaj, a sacrafise stone to the Mayan earth god. On arrivel I encountered a lot of curious tourist, so I sat myself down with distance and within ten minutes I had two local woman sitting with me. We talked, exchanged costumes and knowledge about cooking and raising kids and she explained about what was happening. When all tourist had taken their photo’s and the little hill was quiet with only the chanting of the chaman my new girlfriend asked me if I had bought the opal (a souvenier for my dad) to burn for Pascual Abaj. “Can I do that too then, being an outsider?” ‘Si!’ she told me and showed me how it was done and sat with me in quiet while the insence burned. It will be with me forever.

Chichi was the best place to be as a last stop before going home. The richness in souveniers and the still far-away-from-home feeling were perfect. I slept very peacefully.
The last day in April, my last atol, my last tamale, my last market, the last friendly smile from traditional dressed people. I was truly sad this morning and it was hard to leave the market and start my journal before traveling the last leg of the trip. In the chicken bus (colorful painted old USA schoolbusses) to Guatemala City. I went straight to the airport, slept on the floor in the middle of extreem reconstruction noises, took my flight on the first of May and waved Guatemala goodbye from the air.

If you’ll ask me where to go for truly friendly and traditional traveling, a country where you can speak with the people if you know one of the basic languages (Spanish) and where the food is good, my answer will be Guatemala. I know there are more places for me to discover, I heard similar stories about Peru, Ecuador and other South American countries, but so far it's Guatemala. Like so many other backpackers I fell in love with the place.

On my way to Europe!

Next time you will read where I visited before sleeping in my own bed in Baarlo.

Love Mathu