Weekend on Atitlan Lake
This weekend I visited a lake a few hours from Antigua which is in the centre of a volcanic zone. I wanted to get out into the country side, breathe some fresh and get close to nature. Antigua is beautiful, and many see no reason to leave, but Guatemala also has many natural wonders and interesting wildlife so I felt it was time to see them. I travelled with two American boys from my language school, Aaron and Dylan, who are on their summer holidays from college.
Lake Atitlan is on the site of an ancient volcano which exploded millions of years ago and is 300 metres deep in the centre. The explosion was enormous and rocks were found as far away as the Southern United States and Panama. This event left behind a huge crater in which the lake now exists. Inside the crater hole a number of smaller volcanoes have sprung up in the intervening years (the site is still live) and this has disrupted the perfect circle of the original lake. The lava beneath heats the mud at the bottom of the lake - a phenomenon which can be felt by divers.
We caught the bus on Saturday morning from Antigua and then a water taxi to one of the villages on the lake named Santiago. There is a shrine to Maximon there. Maximon is a wooden statue which the local men wail at and burn incense for in a religious ceremony. From what I saw he apparently likes to smoke a cigarette now and then too. A very odd experience which our 12-year old guide did little to explain - probably because there doesn't seem to be any consensus on who he is beyond a deity. Here is a link to a site which explains a little more (in English): http://www.timshome.com/maximon/default.htm
We visited a couple of other villages on the lake side and admired the highly embroidered clothing of the local indigenous people. Although many of them speak Spanish their first language is Mayan and includes clicks and a sound called the "double glottal stop".They are also very small people - most about 4 feet tall - with seemingly fragile bone structures. Although some young people wear Western clothes most people, including children, dress in their original costumes which they make by hand in their homes.
In spite of all this interesting culture we decided to stay in a waterside hostel called La Iguana Perdida which is owned by an American and run by some Brits. Their Saturday night parties are legendary and include a compulsory dress code of clothes from their dressing up closet. There are dozens of ball gowns to choose from and Aaron chose a fetching sequined number while Dylan preferred a more subtle peach dress.
The party was wild and long and, since my swimsuit was part of my costume, I took the opportunity for a dip in the lake. We had bought a bottle of rum which and at intervals we took shots of it sitting on the floor of our hut. At one point Dylan shouted to me "Get up! Get up right now! Get up!". Apparently the rustling I had heard behind me was a large scorpion which had crawled under my leg - I was more or less sitting ON it. In the commotion the scorpion ran away and we were unable to catch it. I was concerned but there was little to do but face the fact that the hut would also be home to animals. Little did I know that the desire which had prompted the trip -to become acquainted with the indigenous fauna- was only beginning to be fulfilled. In blissful ignorance I continued with the festivities in the bar for several more hours before finally going to sleep, exhausted.
In the night I felt something scampering on my head. I could feel little paws stepping rapidly over my hair. I think it was probably a mouse, or a rat, or possibly a lizard. It was awful thinking of the possibilities but I had no torch and there was no electric light to actually find out what it had been. I adopted the "Latin Driver Technique" which I developed earlier in my trip and ignored the problem.
Later in the night I was awake and staring into the blackness when another little scampering beast used my head as a footpath. I was sufficiently cogent to be infuriated by the impudence and began shaking everything vigorously to get rid of the beast: my head, my pillow, my blankets. Just to make sure I repeated the frantic convulsions until I was thought it was gone. In spite of these efforts I felt powerless since there was no way of checking exactly where it was.. or what it was...
The following day Aaron and I dragged ourselves out of bed early to go diving. It was the first time I had dived in a lake and I found the experience really interesting. The water was pretty clear but we could only go near the edge of the lake since it rapidly gets very deep. We dropped down to an area where the heat and gases of the lava beneath can be felt and seen. In places there are small bubbles rising up through the mud and patches of green and brown indicate areas which are warm. We had expected the mud to be hot but it was actually only slightly warm which was a bit disappointing. Nonetheless there were some fish and incredible volcanic rock formations which were fun to swim around.
After the dive I was finally able to relax and decided to enjoy some hammock time on the terrace of the hostel. The view of the lake from there is stunning and the visibility is never better than in the early morning. Already the hostel dogs were awake and playing in the water and a few people were leaving for new horizons in the water taxi. I admired the vista, dozed, and relaxed with The Sunday Times Magazine from April. Just as I mulled over the perfection of the moment, a large black creature, which I later realised was a dog, leapt into the hammock. He had just been swimming in the lake and was so happy about it that he had decided to celebrate with a face-licking session. Pushing him out of the hammock did little to dent his exuberance and he bounced off happily to share his joy with other tourists. In my blissful state it was difficult to object to such earnest affection but as the odour of wet dog hit me, and the water seeped through my clothes, I had to concede that it is possible to get too close to nature at times.
Lake Atitlan is on the site of an ancient volcano which exploded millions of years ago and is 300 metres deep in the centre. The explosion was enormous and rocks were found as far away as the Southern United States and Panama. This event left behind a huge crater in which the lake now exists. Inside the crater hole a number of smaller volcanoes have sprung up in the intervening years (the site is still live) and this has disrupted the perfect circle of the original lake. The lava beneath heats the mud at the bottom of the lake - a phenomenon which can be felt by divers.
We caught the bus on Saturday morning from Antigua and then a water taxi to one of the villages on the lake named Santiago. There is a shrine to Maximon there. Maximon is a wooden statue which the local men wail at and burn incense for in a religious ceremony. From what I saw he apparently likes to smoke a cigarette now and then too. A very odd experience which our 12-year old guide did little to explain - probably because there doesn't seem to be any consensus on who he is beyond a deity. Here is a link to a site which explains a little more (in English): http://www.timshome.com/maximon/default.htm
We visited a couple of other villages on the lake side and admired the highly embroidered clothing of the local indigenous people. Although many of them speak Spanish their first language is Mayan and includes clicks and a sound called the "double glottal stop".They are also very small people - most about 4 feet tall - with seemingly fragile bone structures. Although some young people wear Western clothes most people, including children, dress in their original costumes which they make by hand in their homes.
In spite of all this interesting culture we decided to stay in a waterside hostel called La Iguana Perdida which is owned by an American and run by some Brits. Their Saturday night parties are legendary and include a compulsory dress code of clothes from their dressing up closet. There are dozens of ball gowns to choose from and Aaron chose a fetching sequined number while Dylan preferred a more subtle peach dress.
The party was wild and long and, since my swimsuit was part of my costume, I took the opportunity for a dip in the lake. We had bought a bottle of rum which and at intervals we took shots of it sitting on the floor of our hut. At one point Dylan shouted to me "Get up! Get up right now! Get up!". Apparently the rustling I had heard behind me was a large scorpion which had crawled under my leg - I was more or less sitting ON it. In the commotion the scorpion ran away and we were unable to catch it. I was concerned but there was little to do but face the fact that the hut would also be home to animals. Little did I know that the desire which had prompted the trip -to become acquainted with the indigenous fauna- was only beginning to be fulfilled. In blissful ignorance I continued with the festivities in the bar for several more hours before finally going to sleep, exhausted.
In the night I felt something scampering on my head. I could feel little paws stepping rapidly over my hair. I think it was probably a mouse, or a rat, or possibly a lizard. It was awful thinking of the possibilities but I had no torch and there was no electric light to actually find out what it had been. I adopted the "Latin Driver Technique" which I developed earlier in my trip and ignored the problem.
Later in the night I was awake and staring into the blackness when another little scampering beast used my head as a footpath. I was sufficiently cogent to be infuriated by the impudence and began shaking everything vigorously to get rid of the beast: my head, my pillow, my blankets. Just to make sure I repeated the frantic convulsions until I was thought it was gone. In spite of these efforts I felt powerless since there was no way of checking exactly where it was.. or what it was...
The following day Aaron and I dragged ourselves out of bed early to go diving. It was the first time I had dived in a lake and I found the experience really interesting. The water was pretty clear but we could only go near the edge of the lake since it rapidly gets very deep. We dropped down to an area where the heat and gases of the lava beneath can be felt and seen. In places there are small bubbles rising up through the mud and patches of green and brown indicate areas which are warm. We had expected the mud to be hot but it was actually only slightly warm which was a bit disappointing. Nonetheless there were some fish and incredible volcanic rock formations which were fun to swim around.
After the dive I was finally able to relax and decided to enjoy some hammock time on the terrace of the hostel. The view of the lake from there is stunning and the visibility is never better than in the early morning. Already the hostel dogs were awake and playing in the water and a few people were leaving for new horizons in the water taxi. I admired the vista, dozed, and relaxed with The Sunday Times Magazine from April. Just as I mulled over the perfection of the moment, a large black creature, which I later realised was a dog, leapt into the hammock. He had just been swimming in the lake and was so happy about it that he had decided to celebrate with a face-licking session. Pushing him out of the hammock did little to dent his exuberance and he bounced off happily to share his joy with other tourists. In my blissful state it was difficult to object to such earnest affection but as the odour of wet dog hit me, and the water seeped through my clothes, I had to concede that it is possible to get too close to nature at times.
posted by Brigitte at 8:01 PM
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