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So, this weekend I set off for Lake Atitlan, supposedly one of the most beautiful places in the world. I took some huge old tour bus that cost Q35, about 5 bucks.
Leaving town we passed through Pastores and then Jocotenango, which had apparently stolen our fair from the other week.
I don't know what this thing is but it looks really dangerous.
The trip out was interesting to watch, whizzing down little side streets and passing people left and right, literally.
Many towns have these bridges to let pedestrians cross roads without getting mauled.
The countryside.
By now of course the bus had stopped to pick up many people.
We zipped right through a couple little towns on the way.
And finally got to the lake, which is in the middle of a bunch of mountains and volcanoes. Apparently it is the crater of an ancient supervolcano, which has already sprouted three new normal volcanoes. Awesome. This meant we had to go down all sorts of winding little roads to get to Panajachel on the shore.
Panajachel itself had a different type of mood.
I then went right down to the docks to catch a lancha across to Santiago, which I planned to visit before ending up in San Pedro.
The view from the waterfront was amazing of course.
You can see itty bitty villages at the bottom.
Some of these little lanchas are FAST.
Leaving Panajachel.
One of the volcanoes has a little tumor lump at the bottom.
In a little while we were approaching Santiago, on the opposite side of the lake.
Getting there we were assaulted by an army of kids trying to charge us to guide us around the town to see everything.
Everything included the church, market and Maximón, best explained by Wikipedia:
"Maximón is a saint worshipped in various forms by Maya people of several towns in the highlands of western Guatemala. The origins of his cult are not very well understood, but he is believed to be a form of the pre-Colombian Mayan god Mam, blended with influences from Catholicism as well as legends about the conquistador of Guatemala, Pedro de Alvarado.
Maximón may also be called San Simón. Where he is venerated, he is represented by an effigy which resides in a different house each year, being moved in a procession during Holy Week. During the rest of the year, devotees visit Maximón in his chosen residence, where his shrine is usually attended by two people who keep the shrine in order and pass offerings from visitors to the effigy. Worshippers offer money, spirits and cigars or cigarettes to gain his favour. The effigy invariably has a lit cigarette or cigar in its mouth, and in some places, it will have a hole in its mouth to allow the attendants to give it spirits to drink.
Maximón is generally dressed in European 19th century style, although with many local variations. In Santiago Atitlán he is adorned with many colourful garlands, while in Zuníl (where he is known as San Simón) he has a much more intimidating style, with his face obscured by dark sunglasses and a bandana.
The worship of Maximón treats him not so much as a benevolent deity as a bit of a bully whom it's wise to keep on the right side of. His expensive tastes in alcohol and cigarettes indicate that he is a very human character, very different from the ascetic ideals of Christian sainthood. Devotees believe that prayers for revenge, or success at the expense of others, are not unlikely to be granted by Maximón."
Seeing Maximón was very interesting, surrounded by praying indigenous people, some singing, one playing a guitar with songs about Maximón. Here is the house he was in this year.
And the dude himself. Apparently this is the original idol and is older than the church in town itself (450 years+). I didn't make an offering :(
There was also a little coffin with Jesus in it, just chilling in the other side of the teeny little smoke filled room.
The church was visited as well, we got there at the exact moment a wedding procession was happening.
Inside we were too late for anything wedding related though. No wedding crashing :(
After stopping by the market briefly which was about the same as any other market, I took another lancha off to San Pedro. At this point I was starting to feel pretty ill but I still managed to appreciate the ridiculous beauty of the place.
That little smudge of lighter colors is a city.
Getting into San Pedro I landed on the side dock, which took me straight into town. Instead of being smart and taking the road around the edge of town to get to the main dock and all the hotels (for I was even more ill at this point) I decided to try and shortcut my way through the dirt paths. I didn't take a lot of pictures but this was pretty much wandering through people's backyards, through random fields, down teeny paths with bamboo fences on either side, and by random hippy stuff like this restaurant, which was all cushioned places to lie down in front of your table with pillows everywhere. Hippies have apparently overrun San Pedro in the last decade, so this is nothing out of the ordinary here (or in Ithaca...)
My search for a hotel was... interesting. The first couple places I couldn't find any management to ask about their hotel and staying there. The next place was a house on the lake whose owner wasn't there, according to some guy lying down outside. I could just "take a key and pay later" but it was a little sketchy so I left. I decided to check out bigger places, but when I went to the first one, the Hotel Valle Azul, I was showed by a mayan girl who appeared to be about 13 a box with no lights and a stained bed. Admittedly it would have cost Q15, or $2, but I was looking for slightly classier. I ended up settling in this swanky joint for Q50 a night, or about $7.
I wandered town a little bit but soon I was horrendously ill and thanking my lucky stars I sprung for a place with a nice private bathroom because let's just say I spent a lot of time in there, all evening and all night. The couple pictures I took of San Pedro were not very inspiring anyways.
At least there was a nice view.
The next morning I got up at the miserable hour of 6:45 to get crammed in a minibus for the most horrendous trip of my life. We had to go to San Marcos, across the lake, IN BUS, to pick up some other people. This meant going up winding roads to traverse MOUNTAINS, studded with massive speedbumps every hundred meters to slow people down. I was also of course sitting in the way back behind the rear axle where bumps are extra big.
When we got to San Marcos, they weren't there so we went back to San Pedro to leave. Then they called, so we went back to San Marcos across the lake. Then we went back and finally left for Chichicastenango, the market town. When I got there I sat down for a while and started to feel a little better, but the atmosphere of the packed market jungle didn't help much.
I then went home and recovered till today. Not nearly as enjoyable a weekend as it could have been but it was still cool.
Leaving town we passed through Pastores and then Jocotenango, which had apparently stolen our fair from the other week.
I don't know what this thing is but it looks really dangerous.
The trip out was interesting to watch, whizzing down little side streets and passing people left and right, literally.
Many towns have these bridges to let pedestrians cross roads without getting mauled.
The countryside.
By now of course the bus had stopped to pick up many people.
We zipped right through a couple little towns on the way.
And finally got to the lake, which is in the middle of a bunch of mountains and volcanoes. Apparently it is the crater of an ancient supervolcano, which has already sprouted three new normal volcanoes. Awesome. This meant we had to go down all sorts of winding little roads to get to Panajachel on the shore.
Panajachel itself had a different type of mood.
I then went right down to the docks to catch a lancha across to Santiago, which I planned to visit before ending up in San Pedro.
The view from the waterfront was amazing of course.
You can see itty bitty villages at the bottom.
Some of these little lanchas are FAST.
Leaving Panajachel.
One of the volcanoes has a little tumor lump at the bottom.
In a little while we were approaching Santiago, on the opposite side of the lake.
Getting there we were assaulted by an army of kids trying to charge us to guide us around the town to see everything.
Everything included the church, market and Maximón, best explained by Wikipedia:
"Maximón is a saint worshipped in various forms by Maya people of several towns in the highlands of western Guatemala. The origins of his cult are not very well understood, but he is believed to be a form of the pre-Colombian Mayan god Mam, blended with influences from Catholicism as well as legends about the conquistador of Guatemala, Pedro de Alvarado.
Maximón may also be called San Simón. Where he is venerated, he is represented by an effigy which resides in a different house each year, being moved in a procession during Holy Week. During the rest of the year, devotees visit Maximón in his chosen residence, where his shrine is usually attended by two people who keep the shrine in order and pass offerings from visitors to the effigy. Worshippers offer money, spirits and cigars or cigarettes to gain his favour. The effigy invariably has a lit cigarette or cigar in its mouth, and in some places, it will have a hole in its mouth to allow the attendants to give it spirits to drink.
Maximón is generally dressed in European 19th century style, although with many local variations. In Santiago Atitlán he is adorned with many colourful garlands, while in Zuníl (where he is known as San Simón) he has a much more intimidating style, with his face obscured by dark sunglasses and a bandana.
The worship of Maximón treats him not so much as a benevolent deity as a bit of a bully whom it's wise to keep on the right side of. His expensive tastes in alcohol and cigarettes indicate that he is a very human character, very different from the ascetic ideals of Christian sainthood. Devotees believe that prayers for revenge, or success at the expense of others, are not unlikely to be granted by Maximón."
Seeing Maximón was very interesting, surrounded by praying indigenous people, some singing, one playing a guitar with songs about Maximón. Here is the house he was in this year.
And the dude himself. Apparently this is the original idol and is older than the church in town itself (450 years+). I didn't make an offering :(
There was also a little coffin with Jesus in it, just chilling in the other side of the teeny little smoke filled room.
The church was visited as well, we got there at the exact moment a wedding procession was happening.
Inside we were too late for anything wedding related though. No wedding crashing :(
After stopping by the market briefly which was about the same as any other market, I took another lancha off to San Pedro. At this point I was starting to feel pretty ill but I still managed to appreciate the ridiculous beauty of the place.
That little smudge of lighter colors is a city.
Getting into San Pedro I landed on the side dock, which took me straight into town. Instead of being smart and taking the road around the edge of town to get to the main dock and all the hotels (for I was even more ill at this point) I decided to try and shortcut my way through the dirt paths. I didn't take a lot of pictures but this was pretty much wandering through people's backyards, through random fields, down teeny paths with bamboo fences on either side, and by random hippy stuff like this restaurant, which was all cushioned places to lie down in front of your table with pillows everywhere. Hippies have apparently overrun San Pedro in the last decade, so this is nothing out of the ordinary here (or in Ithaca...)
My search for a hotel was... interesting. The first couple places I couldn't find any management to ask about their hotel and staying there. The next place was a house on the lake whose owner wasn't there, according to some guy lying down outside. I could just "take a key and pay later" but it was a little sketchy so I left. I decided to check out bigger places, but when I went to the first one, the Hotel Valle Azul, I was showed by a mayan girl who appeared to be about 13 a box with no lights and a stained bed. Admittedly it would have cost Q15, or $2, but I was looking for slightly classier. I ended up settling in this swanky joint for Q50 a night, or about $7.
I wandered town a little bit but soon I was horrendously ill and thanking my lucky stars I sprung for a place with a nice private bathroom because let's just say I spent a lot of time in there, all evening and all night. The couple pictures I took of San Pedro were not very inspiring anyways.
At least there was a nice view.
The next morning I got up at the miserable hour of 6:45 to get crammed in a minibus for the most horrendous trip of my life. We had to go to San Marcos, across the lake, IN BUS, to pick up some other people. This meant going up winding roads to traverse MOUNTAINS, studded with massive speedbumps every hundred meters to slow people down. I was also of course sitting in the way back behind the rear axle where bumps are extra big.
When we got to San Marcos, they weren't there so we went back to San Pedro to leave. Then they called, so we went back to San Marcos across the lake. Then we went back and finally left for Chichicastenango, the market town. When I got there I sat down for a while and started to feel a little better, but the atmosphere of the packed market jungle didn't help much.
I then went home and recovered till today. Not nearly as enjoyable a weekend as it could have been but it was still cool.