rice and beans

Ok friends, family and rabid blog fans - I have extactly 58 minutes in this air contioned panamanian internet cafe to tell you about the time I spent in Nicaragua. Lets get straight to the point - its the tail end of my trip and I didnt have a lot of time to see most of what the country has to offer. The main attractions I wanted to see were either inaccessable or impractical due to lack of time and not owning my own car. I did get a taste of the country in this time and also made two friends who I traveled with for a while.

After arriving in the hot and sprawling capital city of Managua I decided, like most travellers, to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. I made my way by manner of overpriced shuttle bus to the charming colonial city of Granada which lays on the shore of Lake Nicaragua (Lago Nicaragua) Granada could be compared to Antigua in terms of its impressive colonial era buldings and charming atmosphere, but the gringo factor is definately toned down here. After arriving at my hostel of choice (the bearded monkey) I decided to shower and clean up, resembling something not unlike a bearded monkey myself. As the oppressive heat lifted in the late afternoon I ventured out to scope out the town and check out the tail-end of a Nicaraguan film festival that was being held at a venue just off the central park. The city was already buzzing with anticipation for the semana santa (easter holy week) though the pace of life here is still relatively relaxed. I caught a documentary at the film festival about the revolutionary sandistas that played an important part in the politics of Nicaragua during preceding decades, and also explaining the link with what was happening in Spain at the same time during the years of Franco. Unfortunately I wasn't able to understand very much due to my mediocre but slowly developing spanish skills, listening is always the hardest! (Especially low quality audio recordings in echoing rooms!)

After Granada I made my way to Laguna de Apoyo in the back of a pick up. I succeded in my goal to remain standing the whole way from Granada, even while pushing 100k p/h on the highway. Now I know what it feels like to have my face and eyeballs massaged by high speed winds. So thrilling. (Best things in life are always free) The Laguna was a beautiful place to relax and soak up the sun for a few days, and also where I met a dutchman called Richard and an Israeli chick Anava. Richard is a seasoned traveller who has spent the last 18 months working in Canada, and then traveling from as close to the north pole as you can practically get (in Alaska) to Panama in a 1986 suburu station wagon which he purchased for $750. I was amazed that the car hadn't fallen apart by that stage and will be amazed if he makes it to Darian´s Gap in Panama in one peice. We decided to travel together in Richard's car for a while and we ended up making it to Costa Rica together. But first we visited La Isla de Ometepe (Ometepe Island), a large island in the centre of Lago Nicaragua with two volcanoes on it.


The super-rich volcanic soil is good for agriculture so we decided to visit a working banana finca called Magdalena. Traveling lesson #58 - Guide books are extremely useful but often wrong/ inaccurate / the writer was on mushrooms or / got sexed up by the owner. The hype for this place in all three of our guides was immense but the reality was less than shining. The staff was pretty apathetic and unwelcoming, the horse riding and other activites over priced and the food bitterly dissappointing. In fact using the word bitter evokes some sort of semblance of flavour. Richard had a sort of nervous breakdown at the thought of eating anymore rice and beans. The national dish of Nica seems to be Gallo Pinto (rice and beans), not so bad when its done well but not what you want to eat everyday I suppose. We did get a few belly laughs from the El Pollo mas Pollo! (the most chickeny chicken!) sign we thought we saw in the village but which in reality didnt actually exist when we went back. (it was actually Gallo!.......guess you had to be there) Pollo means chicken, and I have greatly enjoyed counting the number of creatively named fried chicken joints in Nicaragua and Costa Rica. In the future I would like to create a photo archive of fried-chicken restaurant signs. (See how rich my life can be without completing tertiary education?)

After Ometepe, my dreams of visiting the Solentiname Islands and sailing the Rio San Juan to the Castillo (where the spaniards traded canonballs with pirates of the Carribean) were shattered and rendered impractical due to the weather conditions and the time restrictions in place.. You need to have a whole bunch of time to get to some of these out of way places, especially when the bi-weekly ferrie may or ¨may not¨ come. Next time I will probe more deeply into Nicaragua´s hidden delights. I had to be content with a quick trip to backpacker beach vortex San Juan Del Sur, down on the Pacific Coast near the border with Costa Rica. Arriving in the dark and during the beginning of Semana Santa, we had some major troubles even finding the place on the beach out of town where we wanted to stay , and then just finding anything that wasnt booked out. We were thinking of camping on a beach out of town and were gauranteed by a local that the turtle-egg poachers would not attack as long as we left no thievable items outside our tent. We ended up staying in the town sharing a hotel room.



Its no Byron Bay but the town is okay if you want to party for a few days. (more for the 16-21 binge drinking set in my opinion but everyones tastes are different) The beach is actually pretty foul by Australian standards so those looking for something a bit more enticing head up or down the coast for a few kilometres where there are some much nicer bathing options. We did however get a fantastic meal in town that night which made up for many days of lacklustre comida. I even ate a very non-vegetarian steak with onion sauce and let the juices run down my chin. (Or was that the mango daquiri/s?)

After leaving SJdS we would make our way to the not so friendly Costa Rica-Nicaragua border where we would que for hours in the blistering heat along with the thousands of other people wanting to move between the countries to go wherever they were going during the semana santa. Our mantra had become T-I-C-A (This Is Central America) Why do we have to que three times when they could just streamline the process? TICA. Why is this insane? TICA. Why does nobody know whats going on? TICA. What insect is biting me? TICA


x
Luke

TICA

5 minutes in El Salvador

section of mural with space cats

Okay, it was slightly longer than 5 minutes but it could certainly only be classed as a stop-over. When I arrived in San Salvador (the capital) I had forgotten to make reservations for the onward trip to Nicaragua, as well as hotel reservations for the night! Not finding the idea of wandering the bad-ass streets of San Salvidor in the dark looking for a room to be particularly enticing, I begged the TICA bus hotel owner if they could come up with something for me. They were really kind and offered to let me stay in the basement where the cleaning staff slept sometimes. There was another dude who was in the same situation so there we slept amoungst huge stacks of freshly washed towels and crates of soap bars. It was strange to have cleaning maids walking around my bed in the morning but it was a place to sleep for the night.

midday lull

Having to wait an extra day for my connecting bus to Nicaragua, I decided to make the most of my little extra time in San Salvador. Hitting the streets on foot, I vowed to see as much of the city as I could before nightfall when I would have to return to my hotel and cower in the darkness until the bus arrived at 3:00 am (yes, that is correct - 3 am. What an ungodly hour to rise hey?) The hotel was located downtown next to the bus depot, a razor wire type affair in a part of the city that is definately off limits after dark.

The difference between Guatemala and El Salvador can seem pretty extreme when you first cross the border. While still living in quite a poor country by world standards, El Salvadoreans definately seem to be better off than the people in Guatemala. The quality of the houses seemed to improve markedly as soon as I crossed the border. Of course in the capital I still encountered many examples of abject poverty, especially downtown where many blocks of the city are still earthquake-damaged from past decades, some completely razed to the ground. There are walls of streets vendors and everything is covered in a thick layer of black diesel soot.

inside la iglesia el rosario

The city is fairly modern compared to alot of the cities in central america, with few colonial era buildings to speak off. There was yet another ridiculous sprawling central american market place that consumed many city blocks with frenetic activity and colour. In one day you can see most of the interesting sights in both the old earthquake damaged downtown area, and the newer western suburbs. This includes a brutally modern concrete church (Iglesia El Rosario) that looks hideous from the outside but conceals within an amazing kalaidescope of stained-glass windows and modern abstract metal sculptures..I also paid a visit to the Monseñor Oscar Romero Centre at the University of Central America (known as ´la UCA´ like ¨ookah¨) ground to find out more about the massacre of this well known priest and six others which marked the start of the civil war in El Salvador during the 80´s. Aside from personal belonings of Romero and information about his lifes work championing the rights of powerless people, there was a garden with roses planted for each of priests that were massacred. My knowledge of Central American politics and history in the 20th century basically amounts to the intro sections at the beginning of each country chapter in the lonely planet, so any opportunity to learn more is always worthwhile.


meat papusas on the hot plate

After a lunch of street food (small ¨meat¨ filled pancake type items called papusas ) I went to check out the shining beacon of consumerism known as Multi-plaza. Here I could browse through three levels of characterless and generic fashion and boutique stores while fullfulling all my dreams of luxury consumption. Quite bizarre to leave Guatemala after 2 months and suddenly be back in the modern world again. It was becoming increasingly noticeable to myself that I have changed my personal viewpoint during this trip. For many years I feel like I have been subtlely resisting the increasingly materialistic nature of the modern world, but now I feel not only that nothing about that world interests me, but actual physical repulsion. The whole experience of trying to make yourself feel good by buying nicer things is in fact actually a farce. Nobody else seemed to be smiling or laughing or enjoying the experience of shopping either. There are certainly heaps of cashed up Nuevo riche in San Salvador city through , the western suburbs look like any other rich middle-class urban area in any other city of the first world.

Also worth mentioning are the insane levels of security in the city. Almost every shop, business and house has its own security guard (or four). Ever present and armed with shotguns, most were friendly when approached and some were even happy to tell some hair raising stories and show the odd scar from a bullet wound. It seems like one half of the city´s home and business owners hire the other half of the city´s population to protect them. Is there anyone left to be the robbers? There was even a squad of dudes with shotguns out the front of the local pizza hut. This is apparently due to high levels of organized crime and gang activity in El Salvador, a problem which is spreading to neighbouring countries like Nigaragua and even influencing gang activity in US due to illegal immigracion from Central America. Its not exactly a reassuring sight to the first time traveler but im sure that tourists are not specifically targeted. There is little in the way of tourism in El Salvador on the whole anyway. I walked around the city all day and saw not one white face - I was alone in the crowds of thousands of El Salvadoreños. It was quite refeshing after Guatemala actually. I can´t wait to come back to El Salvador next time im traveling in this part of the world and actually get to see the rest of the country and learn more about its history and people. I am sure that the countryside and natural landscapes of El Salvador are rich with beauty and just waiting to be explored!


colourful sanctuary in busy city

Final Days in Guatemala

As I sit here in the Conexion internet cafe in La Antigua Guatemala I am feeling quite ambiguous about my journey so far in Central America. Guatemala has started to feel both normal and familiar to me now, and leaving will definately push me out of my comfort zone once again - thought I suppose this is just the nature of traveling. Today is my last day in Guatemala, and tomorrow I will be making my way through the gritty urban landscape of the capital city, known just as'Guatemala' to connect with my bus to San Salvidor -El Salvador's modern capital city. Unfortunately I have run out of time - I will not be able to explore El Salvador on this trip, only passing through in the night like a ghost (or some sort of ghost bus as it were) After staying the night near to the bus terminal in a dodgy part of the city centre, I will be quickly moving on the next morning to Managua, the capital city of Nicaragua. Im really looking forward to exploring the Pacific Coast and lakes of Nicaragua in what will be the final few weeks of my trip (with a short one week stint in Argentina before returning back hoem to Oz)

After managing to finally extricate myself from the marvellous Lago Atitlan, I chose to head up into the Central Highland area of Guatemala known as Verapaz (meaning true peace). This is a mountainous highland area where most of Guatemalas' coffee is cultivated. It's a tremendously beautiful place, the bus trip to the small backpacker destination of Lanquin wound for many hours through steep serrated mountain ranges, lush with dark green vegatation and wisps of cloud and fog scrapping past (literaly driving through the clouds up here!) The reason travellers are starting to come to Lanquin now is basically to visit the natural wonders of Semuc Champey pools and the Lanquin and Kan'Bah Caves.


"El Retiro Lodge"


By the river

I stayed at a lovely place by the river called El
Retiro, which seemed like it was fast on its way to becoming the most popular backpacker destination in the area. Definately a cool place, with huge all-you-can-eat communal dinners with fanastic vegetarian food for about $5 Australian, and a wide range of acommodation options. I ended up sleeping in a Hammock outdoors for the 4 nights I was there due to the place being completely full when I arrived - but for $2 a night I couldnt complain. I needed plenty of blankets though, being winter in the highlands area (but still very tropical and sticky during the day!)The composting toilet facilites were an ecologicaly sound solution, in an attempt to ensure that tourism in the area was not polluting the river (a model I hope more places will adpot in the future)


Late afternoon down by the river


Home is a hammock

The Semuc Champey tour was a wild ride with quite a lot packed into one day - having spent quite a lot of time recently resting on my pastey and flacid buttocks it was time to get whipped into action by our Mayan tour guide! (poor guy had been doing to the tour 6 days a week for the last three years, thats over 1000 times doing the exact same tour! Pretty incredible really, I would have gone mad and pushed tourist over the cliffs by that stage. He did have a bit of a rude and surly attitude, especially towards the Israeli girls ("las israelitas siempre son dificiles") but I would be pretty jaded too by that stage.


Our mayan guide - pushed to the edge

The hot and sunny day started with a visit to a beautiful swimming hole where several waterfalls passed out of limestone caverns at the lower end of Semuc Chapmey. We forded a waterfall (my many past lives as a salmon payed off here) in order to have a quick peak at the raging water coming through the limestone rocks, and then the more adventurous amongst us took the plunge off the rock platform above (about 2-3 stories) into the vortex of the waterfall below. Weeeeeeeeeeeeooooaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! What Fun!!!;)




I was tanned in Mexico. What happended?


The waterfall we jumped into

Next up we found ourselves venturing into the cave mouth at Kan'bah. Plunging into the dark,icy water with only candles held above the water with one hand I was starting to have second thoughts about wether this was such a good idea. No safety gear, footwear,or torches to speak off, this is Guatemala baby! ;) Still, aside from some submerged rocks cutting up my feet, exploring the depths of the Kan'bah caves for a few hours was definately a buzz and a personal challange for me to deal with feelings of anxiety and claustrophobia. We turned back when our candles had burnt down half way...

Directly after ermerging into the sweet light of day,it was off to the Rio Cahabon to be swept downstream in big black rubber tubes, navigating around a few sharp rocks but mainly just chilling and enjoying the warmth of the sunlight. Emerging downstream near the entrace to the Semuc Champey National Park, we made our way into the site and first to the Mirador (lookout), A vantage point high above the site form where we could admire the turqoise pools of Semuc Champey glistening in the sunlight far below us.


Pathetic humans


A string of turqoise

After crashing down excitedly through the forest (well, we stuck to the path but man we wanted to swim!) we finally made it down to the pools and spent of the rest of the afternoon relaxing and swimming in the tranquil waters. Nature never ceases to impress me, from the uppermost part of the pools you can see the river sweeping with trememdous force and energy into a cavern which channels the waters directly undernetah the pool complex, finally emerging out the bottom about 500 metres downstream in the beautiful waterfalls where we had begun our day.


Stony resistance

You see, the Semuc Champey pools actually sit on a large rock platform which is suspended over the river - so while you sit enjoying the tranquility of the waters, a raging river rushes silently underneath you. I was talking about it with one of the girls in our group and we could only agree with each other that "nature was our religion"


The lovely Rebecca and Pedro standing at the left - Venezuelen models and all round lovely people

The following day, after a morning of recovery and the eating of muchas Chicky bisquits (super cheap guatemalan cookies with chocolate tops) I headed out to the other nearby set of caves (Lanquin) to try and satisfy my newfound lust for caving. Arriving at 4:30 in the afternoon, I decided to head in without a guide because the caves have pathways and lights that are run by a generator. This was the best option for me because I could soak up the majestic and slightly menacing atmosphere of the caves without the distracting gabble of my fellow human beings.


A light in the darkness

The richest discoveries were to be made well off the beaten track, literally! - at one point I decided to be daring and slide off the side of the track down into an unlit cavern, where wispering voices of the dark were calling to me. Armed only with my trusty Petzl headtorch, I was grappling with a slippery rock looking for a hand hold, when I almost brought my hand right down to rest on what must be the biggest and scariest looking spider I have ever seen. And this was a bizzare, subterranean species of cave spider than had pincers like a scorpian and and almost crustecean-like appearance. This thing was even bigger then the tarrantula that had wanted to share my hammock with me that first night back in Tikal. Were talking about the proportions of a fair sized dinner plate here folks (with leg span included, and what long, lovely legs they were!)


Terror in the dark


Moody kind of chap

I have seen photos of even stranger Lanquin cave dwellers, large scoprion/lobster type cave creatures that look straight out of a lost sketchbook of H.R. Geiger. The caves extend onwards for many kilometres under the earth, but only the first 1000 metres or so are illuminated - I dont think it is possible to go deeper into the cave without some serious caving equipment and absailing ropes etc. I did challange the last frontier where the cave dropped away into a huge swelling darkness, the peebles I threw would only echo a faint response from the deep after a long and pregnant silence. I could also hear the dim but murmuring chatter of thousands of bats floating up from the chasm - this is where I had to turn back. Being the last person to leave to cave system at the closing time of 6, I was suddenly struck by a severe attack of anxiety - what would happen if I slipped and broke my leg, or if they closed the doors and turned the power off before I emerged? Luckliy I surfaced into the dusk light just as they turned the generator off. I really don't even know if they go into the cave to check before they do this. This is Guatemala, they are not fussy about safety guidelines , you need to be slightly more responsible for yourself here! My reward for loitering outside the cave entrace after close time was to witness a thick, dark plume of bats emerge from the cave and spiral outwards into the purple-stained dusk sky. Unfortunately, not being a skilled enough photographer to capture the fast moving bats under low light conditions, all I could do was take a photograph of the sky (which tends to remain fairly still most of the time)

Lanquin at dusk

Last night as we arrived back into Antigua we were lucky enough to drive straight into the beginning of the Semana Santa celebrations, which will run for the next two weeks as we approach Easter (Semana Santa meaning holy week). At this time of year thousands of people descend on Antigua to witness the religous celebrations and colourful street processions, driving the hotel prices up to undesirable levels. With further luck, one of the main precesions passed right by my hostel last night at around 9 pm! I was able to get great views and some slightly blurry photos of the impressive floats and men clad in strange purple robes. Things should only get more festive and colourful as the events proceed over the next two weeks and as more and more people arrive in the city.

Below - Semana Santa Celebrations last night in Antigua










---------------------------------------------------------
Currently reading;
~ Walden: Life in the Woods by Hendy David Thoreau
~ Plants of the Gods by Albert Hoffman, Richard Evans-Shults

Recently viewed flicks;
~ Apocalypto
~ Borat!
~ Blood Diamond
~ Hotel Rwanda

Take care and be well,
Luke
x

Reflections on the lake

Mastering the art of cuteness

I´m not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow a day or two on Lago Atitlán has stretched out into almost three weeks. It´s not exactly a hard place to stay, Atitlán is mezmerizingly beautiful and offers a million different moods, shades and colours that I am sure could never all be experienced and appreciated in just one lifetime. Atitlán is the third and probably most spectacular of the lakes I have been fortunate enough to visit here in Guatemala. It is a high altitude volcanic crater lake, situated in the central highlands to the west of the Capital. It is ringed by three impressive volcanoes and a sequence of steep ridges and gulleys, carved into a patchwork quilt of green and earthy tones - corn fields, coffee plants, vestiges of original cloud forest vegitation and at least 13 mayan villages.

It is not just its physical beauty which lingers in the mind though - the mesmeric affect of the waters seems to weave itself into peoples psyches at a deeper level as well. I´ve always felt that there are places of power or energetic signifcance, and without care of being labeled a new age quack, I feel comfortable to say that I have personally experieced the power of the lake myself and witnessed its effect on many other people I have encountered here.
There is definately a palpable energy here, I have felt it myself and out of interest I have talked many other travellers and expats who have also felt the strange workings of the lake and its environment upon their own lives. Almost everyone here I have met in Santa Cruz has similar stories of coming here for a few days and staying for weeks / months / years / never leaving. I suppose many travellers just pass through, but for others who come here, especially with a relaxed mentality and space for the spontaneity in their lives, it seems to become a nexus for novel ideas, interesting people and new directions. I wont even go into all the ridiculous synchronicities that started to occur, plus the mysterious disasters that would strike every time I tried to leave the lake.


Ripples on the surface




Often when the lake is calm in the morning it can appear like a gigantic mirror, reflecting the volcanoes and surrounding landscape from its crystal clear surface. I feel like the lake almost acts like a mirror on a more psychic level as well - normal emotional and psychic processes that would almost go unnoticed suddenly become greatly amplified within the sphere of conscious awareness. Both positive and negative energie spirals are possible, depending on what kind of head space you may find yourself in. Perhaps its as simple as this - the lake is a relaxing place, you let your mind slow down, and this creates new space for deeper layers to come up from the depths of the mind, or perhaps just allows for extra awareness of what is already there, that to which we usually do not give sufficient attention due to the hectic nature of our lives and our own minds. For me, I have observed more clearly the way that I interact with other people, and how easily I fall into the orbits of other rather than being my own little star (to use a cosmic analogy) I have also found a bit more space and come closer to being reunited with a pure sense of self. I also have been running to the toilet a lot but that is just between me and my bowels thank you very much.


Space cowboys of Sololá


Strangely, it has also been a good place for shopping. This is one of the few places in Guatemala where the indigenous mayan people still where their traditional traje, or attire. It varies from village to village - the men from Sololá have often been refered to as space cowboys due to their psychedlic, rainbow coloured cowbow threads - complete with 10 gallon hat and mini skirt wrap around. In Santiago Atitlán, the men have a special type of short pants they wear, which are often hand embroided with bird and flower mottifs around the bottom. This is completed with a colourful patterned sash which is wrapped around as a type of belt. I was lucky enough to buy a pair of these shorts, I will be searching for a opportunity to sport them upon my return home. Interestingly, while women of all ages can be seen wearing their beautifully embroided huipil (tunics) and traditional skirts, it is mainly the older men who are seen in traje, in fact I have not seen one young man here carrying on the tradition - they seem to prefer jeans, sneakers and t-shirts (ranging from ¨Jesus the saviour¨ to various death metal bands) It will be interesting to see if the younger men will keep the tradition going as they get older or if this is a sign of a dying tradition. It certinaly would be a shame to loose this cultural richness and diversity, but it is the ultimately the choice of the young men as to which cultural matrix they will subscribe to - and western fashions seem to be winning. I wonder why the women are more likely to keep the traditional clothing? Perhaps because the women are less likely to travel outside the area of the lake then the men they are not exposed as much to modern fashions. Some of the women will never leave the area of the lake in their lives, and many do not speak any Spanish. (I am starting to feel afraid to leave the lake too, my mental map seems blank beyond the borders of Atitlán - ¨There be monsters¨) I even had a few women giggle and run away upon my approach in one village, maybe they were shy or just repulsed by my clamy white skin :) Nevertheless, I am now burdened with a whole bunch of traditional clothing and many peices of second hand fabric as examples of the weaving skills of the local cultures.

I also fell in with a intereting bunch of travellers at La Iguana Perdida hostel in Santa Cruz, which resulted in a few interesting cultural excursions. Lionnel, a really cool guy (duuuuuude) from Colorado (but of Argentinan ancestry) seems to have devoted his life to walking the shaman´s path, and the study of shamanic principles of consciousness. His life and attitude was very inspirational to me personally, and I tagged along with him and a few others to meet a local shaman of Santa Cruz. Andres had shamanic background in his family - his father was a famous shaman in the village, and also the father of his wife (or mother?) was also shaman to if I remember correctly. I participated in something similar to a traditional mayan fire ceremony. This took place on top of a rocky peak perched high above the village, often obscured by wisps of cloud which scrape along the high edges of the rocky walls that ring the lake. (Originally the crater of an even grander volcanoe perhaps) Andres did not seem to be a fully fledged shaman though (though with my limited knowledge I probably wouldnt know exactly what that was), but in the sense that he was at a point of reconciling the traditional spiritual practices of his ancestors with the influence of christianity upon the village, especially the growning spectre of the Evangelical churches which are popping up all over guatemala (The words creeping eruption seem to spring into my mind, a type of travellers rash described in the lonely planet latin america health guide. I was reading up on types of diarrea and the urethra fish) I have heard that for a while there he was encountering a lot of grief from the evangelicals in the village, and had to tone down the shamanic aspects of his practice. The ceremony still had power for me though, the 2 hour walk up step paths through the hills above the village helped to prepare my mind to be in a good state for the ceremony.

Various rituals were conducted around the fire, including the burning of herbs and incencse, the placing of candles around the fire and the purifiying ones body(or bodies) with the resulting smoke (it can seem like a contradiction I know). We were asked, each member in turn, to meditate on or visualize stongly that which we wanted to manifest in our lives, and surrendered our requests to the fire. I asked for the health and well being of my family, especially a particular member who is in a very dark place, and has been for a long time. I believe that the happenings and rituals of the ceremony are only symbolic markers that help to facilitate an internal psychic process whereby we may use the power of our minds to create what we want in out lives. Therefore, the value of the ceremony is only equal to what you put into it yourself and the level to which we each are able to harness the great power that lies dormant within. (We usually only use a very small part of our brains and are barely aware of the infinate potentional that exists beyond this) It was certainly a worthwhile experience, and after the ceremony we were generously provided with food by the shamans family, even though they barely have enough for themselves. We had the pleasure of a brief meeting with Andres´ wife and 9 (!) children. (Managed to get them all in one photo I think)


toda la familia



I feel like I am leaving the lake a slightly different person, perhaps I have come one or two steps closer to knowing myself (only 999998 left to go!) But as a wise chinese sage once said, a journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step. Also I know that I will return here, the hypnotic pull of the lakes´ waters will be present in my dreams for some time to come.

Lovely to meet lionnel, ombi and alex, kirsten, rebecca and mike and anyone else. x

back again sooner rather than later I hope
peace







Sooky dogs get sausages in the end


mmmmm.......racoon eyelids .....more sausages please....



dusk over San Pedro


more drama


the people here understand car pooling, why cant we?


any colour you like


Sololá markets


Santa Cruz


another day on the lake


climbing to the village


San Pedro from La Iguana Perdida


Need time to digest that scorpion




Lanchas


Room with a view


Panajachel dock - mind the sewerage