Au revoir, payasos y Xela…hasta pronto

What a sad sunny day in Quetzaltenango. I am running around, packing up my little room where I have managed to already accumulate little piles of paper, just like home.  Almost finished stuffing all my clothes into garbage bags just like my mommy told me to.  I’d love to bring a few things home from here, the infectious smiles of the Maya, the colors and chilis and longanizas, but I am a little terrified of bringing home amoeba and invisible biting bugs.  I already planned to leave my bags outside when I get home and run to the laundry first thing in the morning, but hopefully these garbage bags and 12 hours of cargo hold quarantine will suffocate any stowaways. 

I will head towards Guate tomorrow, stopping in Sololá near Lago Atitlán to bid my last farewell to the clowns. They have been meeting there all week and it’s Stef’s birthday so I will show up with a surprise adios.  I hope I can find the hotel. I hope I can find Sololá. 

Went to the beach this weekend with Christine, Fernando and Oscar and had a blast. I hadn’t been to the Pacific Coast of Guatemala so it was nice to see some different landscape than mountains and volcanoes. 

Champerico is exactly the way I imagine tropical Central America to be. Roadside banana stands, roads that bisect sugar canes, a slightly seedy town on the ocean that basks in hot, sultry air. Wow, I didn’t realize how freakin’ cold Xela is!  Our little road trip included a stop in San Felipe for a healthy breakfast of chicharrones, blood sausage and pork, all served on a big banana leaf in the back of market stall accompanied by a few Gallos. Oh yeah, it was officially vacation time!! 

Next stop, Hotel Miramar in Champerico. Old building with lots of character, just a block back from the beach. After a few Gallos and some beans and tortillas in the lobby, we made our way to our next meal.  It felt like we were eating our way to lunch.  Christine took us to Stef’s friend’s restaurant shack on the beach, El Gato Negro, where we dined on caldo de mariscos and freshly shucked oysters from a local beach vendor.  This is where I realized that Fernando is the Guatemalan James Deane. Within minutes of arriving somewhere, there is an instant party. This guy, and I can’t believe I can’t remember his name, had six children who were also working the beach selling tortugas and puka necklaces, sand crabs and anything else they managed to cart around with them. Including oysters.  And as he handed me an ostione from his could-be-cleaner hands, I said to myself “oh boy, this is going to make me sooooo sick”. But I went ahead and ate it anyway.  And it was delicious.  A little chili and lemon, yummm—buttery like Northwest Pacific Coast. I think Fernando saw my fear-face and instead of reassuring me he just said, “you are going to be soooo sick…but we have medicine!” And they did. When we stopped in San Felipe, Oscar went into a pharmacy and bought some antibacterial pills.  You can buy most medicines over the counter here without a prescription.  And you can buy onesies. It is wild. Sleeping pills, high-octane painkillers, antibiotics, etc. I was scared to take the Panadol I bought in Dispensa, there was no way I was taking some random pill.  And miraculously, I didn’t get sick at all.

After hours and hours of eating, drinking, lolling around in hammocks on the military-protected beach it was time to think about dinner, por supuesto.  We planned on having paella at our restaurant and of course the oyster guy and his wife and six gorgeous kids were joining us, because that’s how Fernando rolls. Poverty is such an dominant part of the landscape here and it was truly wonderful to share a meal with a family we played with all day. I love showing digital pictures to children and I love it even more when they want to take photos. The oldest child, Fernando, was particularly interested in setting up photos and composed some really great pictures.  He remembered everything I told him about operating the camera and actually figured out some stuff on his own. When I told him that when he grew up he could be a famous photographer, he looked at me quite seriously, way too seriously for a 10-year old, and told me he wasn’t interested and when I asked why he said “Porque no hay nada se vende”. Because there is nothing to sell.

When we got back to the hotel, Christine took over the kitchen and it was official, collaborative paella was about to be born. She was the chef at the Royal Paris in Xela and the woman who owns the hotel has been making paella for years. They went to the market to get chicken, shrimp and squid while me, Fernando and Oscar had appetizers of tortillas, eggs and beans and sauteed calamari. The family arrived around 8 and we all had a great time eating and laughing and hugging and taking pictures. Kids understand my Spanish, I don’t think it even occurred to them that I didn’t speak it. Even though the children were so affectionate and seemed happy, I was a little sad when I think about how tough their lives are. This couple was so young, in their 20s, have six children, no money, no education, rely on selling random things to random people. I know I should really stop thinking about that so much because at the end of the day, everyone had an amazing day.

The next day we ate our way back to Xela, starting with a whole fish in the a.m, before ceviche in Retalhuleu and then a churrasco lunch next to Las Cumbres at a comedor with the sweetest couple. Didn’t arrive until around 6p.m. yesterday and just writing this makes me want to drink some seltzer and take a nap.  I don’t really feel like I’m leaving but I am. So I better get packing.