Guatemala is gorgeous! Once again, I realized that I had been carrying around a completely unfounded stereotype of a place and am left wondering why on earth I persist in doing that. I’ve always thought of most of Central America as hot, dusty and not very interesting – where did I get that? Guatemala is anything but uninteresting.
I traveled again, and for what I hope won’t be the last time, with my good friends Hugh and Linda Straley, along with Ann McKee and Dale Hoff who are friends from Spring 02 and fellow LLL’s Lisa and Hog Hogan. We drove to Lake Atitlan and were bowled over by the beauty of the lake surrounded by three huge volcanoes. Our hotel was set in a garden so crammed full of tropical abundance and so beautifully maintained that they actually sell tickets to walk through its winding stone paths. Scarlet hibiscus the size of dinner plates, bougainvillea cascading over walls, agapanthus, alliums, hydrangeas, jasmine and on and on. I’ve never been among such a profusion of flowers I had not only never seen before but also had never seen any plant remotely similar. Scarlet macaws, parrots, ring-necked doves called out from bamboo cages while a peacock strutted regally around the grounds. Knowing a good thing when they find it, hummingbirds were everywhere.
We visited several villages around the lake including Panajachel, Santiago Atitlan and Santa Katarina (or Catalina, there was some disagreement in the signage and in our memories. OK, we’re old.). Each was inhabited by a different tribe of Mayas with fascinating and vibrant dress. Only the women and girls, together with a few men, wore the native costume. I’ve noticed that pattern in other cultures as well and we asked our guide about it. He said that the boys don’t wear the expensive indigenous outfits because they’re too hard on their clothes but that girls will listen to their fathers when they are told to take care of them. Having raised a houseful of boys and being a Daddy’s girl myself, I completely understand.
Adrenalin sports are huge with SAS students. Bungee jumping, hang gliding and sky diving are high on the list of many kids as they head down the gangway in almost every port. A boy will describe his plans for Cape Town as climbing Table Mountain, shark diving, kloofing and hang gliding. Although I try not to sound all serious and old, I’m sure I do as I ask if he has thought of going to Robben Island or to one of the townships. In the days leading up to Guatemala, the tables were turned: all I could talk about was zip lining!
Zip lining has been on my Bucket List for years. I had passed on the opportunity when I was in Argentina at Iguaçu Falls and I vowed not to miss another chance. Coincidentally, the LLL’s had had a meeting where we shared our list with each other so my traveling friends insisted on finding a place “for Marjorie to check off her Bucket List”. Turns out, there was a private reserve with an eight section zip line not five minutes walk from the beautiful gardens of our hotel.
The harness and helmet process went smoothly but the practice run foretold of problems ahead. They give you huge padded gloves to wear, the right one being considerably heavier than the left, and show you how to brake with your right hand pulling down on the cable. My bum right shoulder and biceps tendon have made that arm noticeably weaker so I had trouble with that part from the beginning. Undeterred, I headed up the side of the mountain, tromping along the jungle path .Turns out they make you climb up every foot of elevation you have so much fun zipping down. My considerable excitement was counterbalanced by the twin anxieties of the prospect of braking failures and snakes – swell!
For those of you who have never done it, let me just say that, aside from braking issues, the hardest part is the first step off into the abyss. You have to sit down in the harness with your hands parked on the trolley above you that is attached to the cable – very firmly attached with stout carabineers. I know, I watched very closely every time. I let everyone else go first to watch how it was done. Finally it was just the guide and me standing on a rock overlooking a very deep ravine. I felt a bubble of panic rise in my chest and was fighting it down when the guide motioned he would get on behind me. Hugh had been translating for us but he was already across. I really think I could have gotten it together if I could have made him understand I just needed a couple more minutes. He seemed to be insisting on the tandem ride so off we went. It was glorious! I was instantly hooked. I easily rode by myself for the other 7 lines, thrilled by the views and the speed and, yes, the adrenalin rush. The braking remained a problem but I did okay and, anyway, others in the group took their turns at coming in hot to the landing platform. Thank goodness Dale had a camcorder so the event is preserved for posterity in video. But that’s just to show you all (which will have to wait until I'm home with more bandwidth). The whole experience is indelibly burned in my memory. Put a check by that one on my Bucket List.
