Day of the Dead

  

     The people in Latin America seem to have a better attitude towards the dead. Every Nov 1st, All Saints Day, cemetery's come alive with family wanting to communicate with their dead relatives. They do this in many places by picnicking with the dead relatives. But what it really is, is the Latin American idea of perpetual care. The families come and celebrate the lives of their relatives by caring for their graves.

     In the town of Sumpango, they go a bit further. Every November 1st they celebrate Day of the Dead by having a kite festival. This festival, supposedly has been going on for hundreds of years. They idea is that you attach notes to your kites and you can communicate with your ancestors. The kites are built out of paper and glue and some of them are truly huge. However the huge ones do not fly though they do put up some really big ones. 

      As one of my teachers said, this is the only day in the year when it is worth visiting Sumpango. It is also a day when thousands of visitors come to a sleepy town not far from Antigua. A town, ill equipped to handle the influx of people. However they do manage to put together the "festival de Sumpango". They have a lot of categories of competition form youths to the huge kite category. In addition to the kites, the town comes alive with vendors selling street food, Guatemalan handicrafts, beer and pretty much anything else they can sell. It seemed like every house opens itself up selling some typical food and charging to use their bathrooms.  

      Since the traffic was supposed to be oppressive and parking impossible, we rode the BMW up. As we were parking on a corner a man came up and said he had secure parking. For about 50 cents an hours we parked in his yard, next to a goldwing, and he also "checked" our helmets and allowed Diane to use his bathroom. (Which she said was immaculate)  

      We walked up the hill into the cemetery and then up to the football pitch where the festival was being held. 

    Frankly, the pictures do a better job of telling the story, so here they are. 

Rodeo, Guatemalan Style

Two weeks ago we ventured to the town of Pastores, on our way to Antigua. Pastores has, apparently, only one thing going for it. They make and sell boots, belts and bags. Diane decided that she needed some new motorcycle boots to go with her new Held Motorcycle gear and had a pair custom made. I figured that for the 50 dollars that they cost, it was a small price to pay in the total cost of motorcycle gear. While we were there, our friends from Texas (where else) noticed that Pastores was going to have a rodeo in two weeks at 2 PM. So we arranged to have both Diane's and Joeline's boots ready for that Saturday.

When Saturday arrived we were off to Pastores. It was going to be pick up the boots, see the rodeo and maybe if there was time at trip to the "Viveria", the plant places outside of Antigua. Here you can buy plants, big plants, for about 5 dollars. Well within my price range.

No traffic, means we are in Pastores pretty early. Everyone tries on their boots and they fit fine. As I am chatting with the guy in the bootstore I see a simple pair of mid-calf boots. Nothing too fancy, just a normal boot. Naturally I ask the price. Three hundred ten quetzales, he  tells me, about 40 dollars. Well for 40 bucks I am willing to buy myself a pair of boots, especially since my real motorcycle boots are Vermont. We discuss the size, the color, the fact that I want "plastico" soles not leather an so forth.  Well Diane thinks, that for 40 dollars she too can have another pair of boots, this time in red. They discuss customizing and stitching and the like and we cut a deal. I tell him we will be back in about 3 weeks to pick them up.

It is still early, so we decide to have lunch. After all, the rodeo isn't until 2PM. We go into one of the little local restaurants and order our lunches. Diane and I have fresh made lemonade to accompany our meal. All of the food is good, though both Carl and I had to go outside as the ventilation from the plancha, the grill, was inadequate and the restaurant, hell the street, was filling with smoke. After a while they shut the door to the tiny kitchen and this allowed the smoke to build in only one room, fortunately not ours.  We finished lunch and looked at the time, we still had an hour until the rodeo started. So we decided to go out and explore one of the roads that Carl and Joeline had not been on.

We ended up in a town called San Antonio Aqua Calleintes. With all of the volcanoes surrounding us it was not surprise that a town was named after hot springs.  However, when I asked where the hot springs were, they told me they disappeared in the early 70's. The town itself was a real find. It was in the old Spanish style with a central square and many old colonial Spanish buildings. And for some reason, it had an artesania market... good news for Diane and Joeline. The first shop we went into had some interesting/different things. Different towns in Guatemala have different specialties and they even have certain patterns that are specific to the town itself.  Joeline was in heaven, she really loves to shop and spend money, but has no concept about bargaining. We went down the street into another, much larger market. I attempted to bargain with an old woman on a belt, but she would not come down to my price. She showed me the Guatemalan sign for being cheap. Being cheap, I was not offended and thanked her for the compliment. We  both had a good laugh, but she still wouldn't come down to my price. So in good Middle Eastern style I walked away... and she let me.

We went back to the original place and bargained with the woman over some very nice quilts that she had made. She wanted a 1000Q for two, I offered her 600Q.  Now all of this is taking place in Spanish. She told me I had a duro corrazon, a hard heart. I thanked her. She told me that it took her "x"amount of time for her to make the quilt. I told her that I shouldn't have to pay for the fact that she was a slow worker. She also showed us the sign for being cheap and I again thanked her. All good natured and all in good fun. Eventually Carl and Joeline bought one of the quilts for 400Q, he thought he got a good price. I told the woman I would return in a few weeks and she would sell me the other quilt at my price. She told me it would cost 800Q by then. We had a good laugh and we were ready to go to the rodeo.

Of course all of that travel and shopping cost us time and we did not get to the rodeo until a bit after 3. We paid our 25Q, about 3 dollars, for admission to the rodeo. Of course the rain has been falling on and off all day so the rodeo ring is a slimey mud pit filled with bull feces. I guess  all the more fun for the cowboys to fall into. Of course with it being after 3, we are wondering when the 2 PM rodeo is going to actually start. So I ask the bartender. En cinco minutos, in five minutes. Well five minutes Guatemalan time is not the same as five minutes in the US and at around 3:40 they start to round up the bulls to put them in the shoot.

 While this is going on I am watching the cowboys tie his spurs to his boots. (Photo left). In the US, cowboys now use flak jackets, helmets and pads. Whatever happened to the real cowboys? Apparently they came to Guatemala, because most of them used no protection at all. Meanwhile they are still trying to get the bulls into the shoot. Of course they want to do this without getting themselves muddy. In the course of 20 minutes they get one bull into the shoot, by "lassoing" its horns and pulling it in. They had hoped the herd would follow. It didn't. More time passes and finally one of the cowpokes enters the ring with a cattle prod. He simply shows the cattle prod to the bulls and they quickly decide that the shoot is a better option. Of course they had the cattle prod all along and never bothered to show it to the bulls. At no time did they actually have to use the cattle prod, simply holding it up was ample.

Okay, the bulls were loaded into the shoot and we are ready to roll. Or not. First we have to have the intros. Interestingly enough there are 12 riders and 9 bulls, I guess some get to go twice. The longest intro, in Spanish of course, ends up going to the guy who is rodeo clown. He is the man in the picture on the right in the white hat  and white/red shirt. Not exactly a good rodeo clown get up, and he did not even have a barrel. But that is okay, as the barrel would have sunk into the mud.

 Okay, it is starting to get late, the sun sets around 6 PM and the rodeo corral, obviously has no lights. Not too worry, as the first 3 riders barely stay on the bull after the gate is opened. With prize money of 300Q (about 30 dollars) and a pair of boots, I guess they don't attract the top of the line cowboys here. After half of the riders have gone, the best having lasted a generous 6 seconds, the Brahva girls are brought out. You can see them in the picture below. They are the ones with the t-shirts tied so you can see their bellies. Unfortunately, the beer is a reflection of the quality of the girls.

 At this point it is late and the sun is setting and we have decided that we have had our 25Q's worth of fun. So we make our way out into the street and head on home. Another Guatemalan experience, perhaps not to be repeated.

Monterrico

Since coming to Guatemala I have tried to buy a map for my Garmin. I found one guy who would sell me a map and installation for "only" one hundred dollars, which I would have paid if it were a map of Central America. His map was only Guatemala. After much searching and some help from the advrider website, I found a free map of central america, which I downloaded. The real miracle was that it worked. It is not up to the same standard of the Garmin maps of Africa and North America, as I cannot type in an address and go to it. I think this is more the nature of Guatemala which has about 20 "zonas" each with the same numbered streets. However, you can go from city to city and you can go to "attractions" such as specific stores or restaurants. Provided that they are listed in the map's database.

We used the Garmin to find our way to Monterrico (town not listed, but you can use the latitude and longitude) We left the city and only made one mistake. Although we were on the correct road CA 9, it seems that when CA9 took a left, the city did not see any reason to put up any signage. We had made the mistake of thinking the Garmin was wrong, because how could any road not be marked. Fifteen minutes and many turns later (you remember me telling you that Guatemalan likes to keep their roads separated in a previous blog post, don't you)we returned to the same spot and took the turn as we should have. We were headed to the ocean, dropping down over 4000 feet in elevation in a bit over two hours.

Once we passed the local volcano, Pacaya, we found our first Guatemalan toll road. For about two dollars we had the privilege of traveling on a well developed, well maintained, two lane divided highway. Speed limit, 45 miles per hour. Of course no one travels at that speed and we were constantly passed as we motored along at about 110 kph (66 mph). Basically the directions are follow this road until you hit the ocean and turn left. Which is pretty much what we did. Once we turned left we continued on a not so wonderful road that had many tumulars, sleeping policeman, speed bumps that were put there so you could not travel at a high rate of speed through towns, past schools or if you had the money, past your house. As we passed through a couple of towns there were men there collecting tolls. While it is true that they gave us receipts, I am not quite sure where the money really goes.

View from the yard

The place we were staying was about 5 kms outside of Montericco, so we made the turn and headed off to find the house.It was actually quite easy to find as it was in Hawaii, well the village of Hawaii, and next to the, you guessed, the Honolulu Hotel. The house was right on the beach and we had rented it, because they allowed dogs. The house owner, a man from Florida named Jeff was there to greet us. He loved the dogs and we visited out air conditioned room. As you can see from the picture on the left, we were right on the beach and the pool was a needed relief from the heat. We have been spoiled by the continuous springlike weather in Guatemala City and discovered that the drop of 4000+ feet meant an increase in temperature.

Black sand beach

We unpacked and took the dogs for a walk on the beach. Now the black sand beaches sound very romantic, but in reality they are very hot on your feet. We were smart enough to wear shoes, but the dogs were not. So we walked them down by the shore. Both dogs having been raised on the beach in South Africa do not enjoy the surf. So as the waves rolled in, they would head up towards the hotter sand. After a brief stroll we returned to the house to relax in the pool.

We chatted with Jeff and found out that you can buy a beach lot for under 20 thousand dollars. Of course there literally is nothing around. The nearest real grocery store is about 50 kms away and who knows where the movie theater might be. But if you want the quiet beach life, Montericco can be the place for you.  For lunch we headed into Montericco and beer and nachos at "Johnny's Place." It is right on the beach and each cabin or two shares a small swimming pool. It is well known among economy travelers. The nachos and beer were just what the doctor ordered and after a walk into the metropolis of Montericco (see picture below) we headed  back for some more relaxation.That night we ate at the Hotel Honolulu. Both Diane and I had prawns. They were indeed Jumbo and they did taste  delicious, but there simply were not enough of them.

Downtown Monterricco

The next day was again hot, but we started out with an early morning walk on the beach. The beach sand was a lot cooler and the dogs enjoyed the walk a bit more than the day before. We had a desayuno tipico in Montericco... two eggs, frijoles, crema, plantains, tortillas and coffee for about 3 dollars, then we headed back to the pool.  During lunch time Jeff and his friend went out to lunch so we let the dogs roam through the fenced in yard. They enjoyed the new smells. Those of you that have talked to us about Ridgebacks have probably heard Diane tell you that you never train Ridgebacks to be guard dogs as they naturally will protect their family. Well the caretaker, Abillo, came into the yard unannounced carrying his machete. Apparently the dogs viewed this as a threat and even mild mannered Izzy leaps to our protection. They cornered the caretaker and were not about to let him go. Izzy jumped up at him and Sedi ran in and out keeping him at bay. Basically the same thing they do when they hunt lions. Meanwhile Abillo is swinging his machete and probably soiling his pants. We manage to grab the dogs and find Sedi with a bloody mouth from biting the machete. (It stopped bleeding shortly after). Abillo complained to Jeff that dog bit his stomach, Izzy had scratched him when she jumped up. Jeff was not having any of it and told Abillo that he was foolish to walk into the yard unannounced and he should have known better. I guess he learned his lesson as he called us every single time he came back to the house.

Dinner that night was at Johnny's, where Diane again had jumbo"ish"  prawns. More prawns, but not so big. I had their fish special. A fish so big, they had to cut off part of the tail so it would fit on the plate. As we are leaving we run into one of the computer techs from school who is also enjoying the beach.

The next day, after the same breakfast, we decide we have had enough of the beach life and would depart. Having lived at our beach house in South Africa, hanging at the beach does not hold the same type of attraction for us. The day was not without event. As I am sitting next to the pool, Abillo comes running in unannouced and tells me that some people in the ocean are not able to swim. I look out and sure enough about 8 people are drifting with the rip tide. I debate whether or not to use my lifeguard training, but between a bad rotator cuff and no knowledge of the ocean here, I decide it is better to be a spectator. Maybe you do get wiser with old age? The whole scene is interesting. Apparently there is some type warning system as people are coming from all directions. They are coming with belly boards, flotation buoys and one guy comes with a really long coil of rope. All's well that ends well. All 8 of the people successfully make it to shore and I don't have to feel guilty.

Not the Lake Champlain Ferry

We pack up and get ready to head out. Jeff told us that taking the ferry is a more scenic route, so we decide to do it. Though the Garmin says to take the ferry, we soon find out that is not the Lake Champlain Transit Company we are dealing with, as the pictures will attest to. We had to wait 20 minutes until the ferry was full...two cars. Then using the ramp as a lever, the "captain" pushes the ferry into the river and off we go. For about 20 minutes we travel up the river to the next town. We pass many of the same ferry's of equal quality, most driven by a 7 hp engine. The captain rams us into shore and we are off.

Commuter Ferry

River House

The ride is hot but pleasant. We get to see people's home who literally live on the river. In some ways it was reminiscent of southeast Asia. We safely make it to the next town's dock and head back to the city. It is indeed a more scenic drive as we travel through Guatemala's dairy-land. Thanks heavens for the GPS, as nothing is clearly marked. Fifty kilometers or so later the GPS tells us to make a turn, having learned our lesson, we do. It is a good thing too, as the unmarked turn takes onto the toll road, which we follow back to Guatemala City. It took us about 2 hours and 15 minutes to get back, including the ferry ride. So the beach is pretty darn close. Our biggest problem now, is to try to decide what we should do for the our 4 day weekend in October.. Perhaps we shall visit some Mayan Ruins?

 

Lake Attitilan

First three day weekend, came up in August and after multiple trips to Antigua we decided that we would venture a bit further away to Lake Attitilan. The directions seemed pretty simple, go the same way to Antigua, but don't take the turn, continue straight. As we have discovered straight is a misconception here, but what the heck we went anyway. All went well until we hit traffic in Chiteltenango, where we sat and crawled for half hour through the small town. Seemed they thought it was a good idea to build an overpass in the middle of the town, instead of taking a sensible approach and putting in a small loop around the town. While sitting in traffic, we watched a variety of big motorcycles pass us on the side. BMW's, Triumphs, Yamaha's and even a Goldwing. We figured it was a holiday weekend in Guatemala City and everyone was heading to the lake. After our traffic jam, the road opened up to a two lane divided highway. As we told you before, Guatemalan's seem to be hung up on keeping those lanes separated.

The road was well maintained, fairly new and as stated two lanes divided. Why the speed limit was 60 kph (35mph) is anyone's guess. Of course no one is going 60 kph. Guatemala is a land of mountains and the road towards Lake Attitilan rolled up and down over the mountains. Our little Hyundai Getz's 3 cylinder engine might get good gas mileage, but lacks power. So there was a lot of shifting involved. On the downhills we managed to get into fifth gear. The road rumbled through the mountains and farmland. Apparently contour plowing is not well known here in Guatemala, but the corn was easily ten  feet high.

The quality of the road increased as the up and down nature of the road was enhanced by the input of some serious curves. This was a top quality motorcycle road and I look forward to experiencing it with a proper vehicle. Friends of ours told us that halfway to the Lake is a famous place to stop for breakfast or lunch. They couldn't recall the name, but they said you will know it when you approach it. Well, there are three or four of those places, all with big parking lots and apparently good deals on food. We stopped at none of them and continued on our way to the Lake. This road is often closed due to “deslaves” or washouts. We soon discovered that two lanes in both directions became a desvio or detour, where there were only two lanes as the side of the mountain was occupying the other side of the road. For the remainder of the road it changed from two lanes to one lane to two lanes, but all in all it was fine.

There are three possible ways to get to the Lake, roads that diverge off the main road and head through smaller towns. We found none of them and continued on the Pan American Highway towards our destination. Other friends of ours told us to look for the small signs to Panachatel, the main town on the Lake. We found a major sign at a minor intersection that took us down towards the Lake and I do mean down. Twenty kilometers of downhill through the town of Solola. Again, the idea of bypassing a town is beyond anyones imagination and we slowly traveled through the town, being stopped by a local parade. Finally the lake was in front of us and we drove through Panachatel looking for the dock for the boat that take us to the town of Santa Cruz where we rented a small house for us and the dogs. Once we drove to the end of the town without any luck, we figured we missed it. So we stopped and asked a policeman “Donde esta el barcadero para Santa Cruz”, where is the dock for Santa Cruz? He told us to continue on and ask the next policeman. Eventually we found the dock and a secure place to park to the car.

Now the dogs have never been on a boat before and they are not particularly found of water. So instead of trying to take them on the public boat we negotiated for a private boat. A bit of wrangling got us what I hoped was a fair price for a boat with “a big motor” that was really fast . El Capitan asks if he can take on two more passengers. We are willing as long as they stay away from the pooches. They board the boat and one guy brings along lumber to repair something. The only way to Santa Cruz is by boat and that is how everything is brought in.

The boat does indeed have a big motor and is quite fast. These are long boats, about 35 feet, with 70 horsepower engines that cause them to plane as they travel towards their destination. They are made of thick fiberglass that seem to be fairly indestructible, at least we hoped it was. The dogs took the boat trip in good stride and we safely disembarked in Santa Cruz. We asked where the hotel was, that was associated with the house we rented. In addition we made arrangements with Capitan Ramos to pick us up on Monday. The people at the hotel were really nice and they sent a boy to take us to our accommodation. It was a walk along the edge of the lake along a path that was, shall we say, rough. There were bridges that were built out of planks and some places where the lake's edge was reinforced with rocks that were surrounded by chain link. Ten minutes later we found our house.

This is the house we stayed at

            As you can see it was right on the lake and the narrow area in front is a continuation of the path along the lake. The house was a bit funky in design and it had many keys to the many doors. When you lied in the bed, you looked out on the lake, when you sat in the living room, you looked out on the lake, when you worked in the kitchen, you looked out on the lake. Of course the steep sides of the mountain and the narrow trail made taking the dogs for a walk a bit of an adventure.

Note the steepness of the road. It just kept on going up

            We settled right in and decided to go back to the dock and walk to the town of Santa Cruz. We started up the road to Santa Cruz and began to have second thoughts, as you can see in the picture. Instead we hailed a tuk tuk and for about a buck and a quarter we sat in the tuk tuk as the driver groaned up to the town. Between the groaning up hill and the extreme use of brakes on the downhills, the repair costs on the tuk tuks must be quite high. Upon disembarking at the top of the hill we found that town of Santa Cruz had nothing to offer beyond a hill top view of the lake. So after buying some beers we found another tuk tuk that returned us to the dock, where we walked back to the house to enjoy the tranquility of the lake.

One of the Volcanoes

            Lake Attitilan is a collapsed caldera, something like Crater Lake in the US. It is surrounded by mountains and more volcanoes, none of which are currently active. It has great views and there is virtually no one on the lake except for the ferry traffic. The Lake is virtually vacant.

Dinner and drinks were at the hotel next door. As an unimpressive meal as we have ever had. Back to the house, some reading and early to bed. The next morning back to the hotel for a buffet breakfast that was way more satisfying then the dinner and much cheaper to boot. We had heard of an artesian town on the lake and we decided to go find it. We asked at the hotel associated with the house and they told us the town was called Santiago. To get there you had to take the boat back to Pana and then go to a different dock to take another boat to Santiago.

We wondered the area around the “playa publica” or public beach. It had a lot of restaurants and stalls selling local tourist goods. Eventually we found the boat to Santiago. The shill for the boat asked for 30 quetzales, but we knew the price was 25 and told him so. It took about 15 minutes for the boat to get enough passengers to leave. While we were waiting we saw about ten other teachers from the school who were going on a tour of the lake.

            The town of Santiago is located between the two big volcanoes. It has a well deserved reputation as an art village. In addition to the usual tourist items, they had some high quality handicrafts for sale. Some of the art shops had unique art by “real”artists, as opposed to the typical items that are sold everywhere. In one shop the artist was telling the story of one of his paintings, in Spanish of course. It was a really nice large painting, that Diane liked more then me, so I asked the price “en dolares?”, “Si”. A mere 1200 dollars, so we passed on it. What was interesting was he had half the shop with more traditional paintings and half the shop with abstract art based on the traditional art. Next time we go back we will take some additional money and have a more realistic viewing.

            We walked through the entire town, managed to purchase a very nice handmade “runner’ and passed up some other textiles. My bargaining skills, finally honed in the Middle East, still hold me in good stead, that and the fact that I rarely ever really need anything. The boat ride back to Pana had many Guatemalans in their Sunday best. As we rocketed across the lake, with the water splashing over the bow, we were entertained by a family with 3 little girls all dressed in pink. The entertainment came to a dead standstill when the boat stopped dead in the water in the middle of the lake. There was a lot of looking around, to either to determine the problem or look for another boat. Turned out we had just run out of gas and Captain just had to switch tanks. With much relief we skimmed our way into the dock in Pana.

            We spent some time wandering around Pana, bought a flashlight, some rum and coke…all the essentials. We needed the flashlight as we were having dinner at a hotel about a ten minute walk from the house and since the sun sets at around 6:30, having some light to illuminate the path seemed like a good idea. On the way back to the Santa Cruz dock we stopped and had a liquado. A liquado is basically a fruit smoothy made “con aqua, con leche o con yogurt.” (water, milk or yougurt). They are a wonderful way to get your daily allotment of fruit and if you take it “sin azucar”, without sugar, it is even more healthy. We lucked out as the place we stopped at had some of the best liquados we have ever had in a crazy variety of flavors.

            The boat back to Santa Cruz began to fill up. They usually leave with about 15 people on it. Apparently we must have hit the end of church or something, as this boat had 30+ people on it, not including the bags of grain. We finally took off and the Capitan pushed the throttle onto full. Well there was no way that this boat was going to plane. It pushed itself through the water and the ten minute trip probably took 25. Of course, like most things in the developing world, this boat did have life jackets, three of them for the thirty people. So we were not displeased when the Capitan decided to take the boat closer to shore. Upon closer observation the shore consisted of a steep mountain dropping down into the lake. If the boat sunk, it would take all of your ability simply to hold on to any plant life that was near the water. It was way too steep to climb up. None the less we safely made it back to Santa Cruz. We walked back to the house and took  the dogs out for their semi daily constitutional. .

Our porch is on the right, to the left is the public path

            Our dinner at the hotel turned into an adventure, as we had a tropical downpour for the entire walk. We arrived quite wet, but the warm food went a long way to overcoming our damp spirits. Our flashlight came in handy as we had another wet walk back to the house. Some relaxing reading, a good nights sleep that came accompanied by heavy rains the whole night, allowed us to awake to blue lake that had a mirror like sheen to it.

            Capitan Ramos picked us up and again asked if we could take some additional passengers, to which we agreed. The additional passengers turned out to be two couples from our school who were staying at the other end of the Santa Cruz path. The dogs, now veteran mariners, took the trip in stride, with Izzie sitting up and enjoying the view. The ride back started with a 20 km climb up to the main road, some of which required us to be in first gear. We made excellent time back to Guatemala City, until is took the “straight”road to the right when I should have went straight to the left. We were lost, then we were found, then we were lost again. I asked for directions and we found a road that we thought we knew. The only thing new about that road was it took us someplace we had never been before. I stopped and asked a policeman who had to use his radio to get us directions back to our area. We finally arrived home, safe and sound.

House looking back at Santa Cruz. That is the town on the top of the hill

Another view of the house

This is at the barcadero for Santa Cruz... the sign basically says "Private Property, no pissing or shitting"

           

Driving Senorita Daisy

Those of you that have traveled in different countries around the world know that driving styles vary, as do the individual countries approach to road layout.

For instance, Mongolians were famous for their ability to drive cars as if they were riding the horses. They constantly eased over next to you until you were herded into the next lane. Jordanians drove using the inshallah principle, god willing. If god wills it, so it will be. Not a great attitude to have when you are hurtling through a city. The Greeks feel that passing on the right, at any speed, is de rigor. My Colombian motorcycle friends thought nothing of passing at a high speed on a blind curve. In Africa it was not so much the way people drove, but the animals on the road. Cows, goats, sheep, donkeys and the occasional elephant were things that you needed to look out for.

Having been well versed in the art of international driving, I felt that I was prepared for almost anything here in Guatemala. I learned to drive in NYC, so I understand traffic. Although there is indeed plenty of traffic here, at times, it is nothing unusual. It is also true that Guatemalans have no idea what it means to keep right. They poke along in the left lane or act like speed racer in the right. I was specifically told not to honk my horn at other drivers because “many of them have guns.”  But it is not the drivers that are unique to Guatemala, it is the roads.

Guatemalans seem to have a distinct adversity to allowing two lanes going in the opposite direction to touch. Any ‘almost’ major thoroughfare is a divided road. Divided by concrete barricades, divided by grass medians or divided by overgrown jungle.  So getting to the other side is an adventure, especially when the road on the other side can have a different name then the road you are on. On our first trip to Antigua we managed to get lost and needed to find a “retorno” in order change our direction. It took 8 kms to find one. Of course it just became an opportunity to see more of the countryside, albeit an unexpected one.

Our directions for going to Antigua were to get on such and such road and go straight. Now the area around Guatemala City is rift with volcanoes and steep valleys. There are no straight roads. If you continue down any of the roads they split and your choice is forty five degrees to the left or forty five degrees to the right. And some of those places where the roads go are into “Zonas” that you don’t want to be in. Of course being new to the city, we don’t really know which ones are the bad zones.  Kind of gives new meaning to a thrilling ride.

Having spent some time being lost in the city, I still don’t understand why I can make it home on Avenida Reforma by taking it either north or south. Or that I can leave my house go down to Vista Hermosa and travel in either direction and still get to the airport. There are no good maps, but I am hoping to get a card for my GPS.

Being a fairly tropical country, Guatemalan roads are lined with drainage areas, a good idea in a country that gets heavy rainfall. However, they do not quite have that concept down pat. The drainage ditches are 18 to 24 inches deep and are rectangular in nature. There is no easing off into the road shoulder. Once you put your wheel into one of these troughs, you need a jack to get back out. As a motorcyclist I know that I will have to use extreme caution.

I am sure that we have some exciting riding/driving ahead of us and we look forward to the challenge.

Dog Story 4

Most of you have heard/read about Thaba's trip to Mongolia, where he broke out of his cage and had to be captured by the animal people in Frankfurt. How we had to buy a new kennel and then drive to Munich to reach Ulaanbaatar. Some of you have heard/read about our memorable trip from Zambia through Botswana to South Africa. On that trip Sedi flew out of the pickup truck when the cap on the back came off and then we had to smuggle Izzie and Sedi into South Africa by having Botswanan dog papers made that allowed them to enter South Africa “legally.” (The forged paper work had been arranged by our vet in Zambia). Some might remember the fairly uneventful return of Thaba to Zambia via London and others might recall the fairly simple trip to the US for both Izzie and Sedi although there was a flight cancellation for the dogs' plane and I had to leave the country the day before they did. In the end, you never know what is in store for you when you send some large dogs to a foreign land.

By now I feel that I am well qualified as an international dog shipper. I know where to look and who and what to ask. So I was confident that I would be able to easily ship the dogs to Guatemala. It seemed that all that was required was a health certificate that was certified by both the US Government and the Consulate of Guatemala, albeit with the correct shots. Rabies had to be done over 30 days from shipping and even though the dogs had a two year rabies shot, discretion was the better part of valor and we decided to get the dogs shot up again. Of course the consulate required a health certificate within 30 days and the airline required one with ten. So we had to get an over 30 day rabies shot, and under 30 days health certificate and one within 10 days for the airline. We had decided to fly Continental because of their pet-safe program This allows you to ship regardless of weather. The other airlines, such as American, would not ship if the temperature at any airport was above 85 degrees. Since those flights are all routed through either Miami or Houston, it made sense to fly Continental. Lo and behold, Continental also has one direct flight to Guatemala City on Saturday. So I booked the dogs and ourselves on the same Saturday flight.

Our vet seemed cooperative and 32 days prior to the flight I showed up with two dogs ready for their shots and their certificates. They got their shots, but the vet wouldn't postdate the health certificate, so I had to return a few days later. The vet also told me to return with the dogs for the ten day letter required by the airlines. Of course the health certificate has to be certified by the USDA vet in Montpelier. Unfortunately there has not been a USDA vet in Montpelier in about 6 months. With a bit of research I found that there is a USDA vet at the border about 45 minutes away. I called him up and he told me that the vet in Montpelier does not like him to do this, but since there wasn't one it would be alright.

In the Miata on a nice day, I drive up to the border to get the papers processed. Now we have had the government process papers on two different continents in 4 different countries and it is fairly routine. Stamp it and out the door. The vet turned out to be a fellow motorcyclist who has dealt with Bud Provin and Dougie Mo. It also turned out that it cost 36 dollars to have the papers stamped. Apparently President Reagan in his failed attempts to lower taxes managed to find new ways to collect money. Check or charge please, no cash. Two steps down a couple more to go. At least I did not have to drive to Boston to have it done, as suggested by the USDA.

A ten dollar money order and off the papers go to the Consulate in Rhode Island. Why is there a Guatemalan consulate in Rhode Island? Who knows. Both the consulate and embassy in DC were forthright and easy to deal with, so our hopes for Guatemala grew. About 5 days later the papers came back with an “approval” letter attached to each of the 5 copies of the document. Things were going smoothly.

I returned to the vet to have him see that the dogs had not deteriorated in the two and a half weeks since I had been there. After waiting 20 minutes, he spent maybe 10 minutes taking their temperature and listening to their hearts. No surprise, the dogs were healthy. I told him I would return the next day to pick up the letter that says the dogs could fly. I return the next day and the letter is there, but there a “small” outstanding bill. I am a bit flabbergasted as I had paid 200 dollars for the shots and original health certificate. The receptionist tells me it is “only” eighty six dollars. Those of you that know me well, know  that I am not a happy camper when I feel like I am being ripped off. I explained that that was out of line. So they send the office manager out to see me. She explains that they have to charge for the vets time and time it took to fill out the form. I explained that I did not need a form, I needed a one sentence letter that said the dogs could fly. I also asked if I get to bill them for the 20 minutes I spent waiting for my ten minute appointment. We go back and forth for a while and I told her I did not think there should be a charge, I already had spent 200 dollars, I would settle for 25 dollars. She capitulated.

How do you get two large dogs, two giant kennels and a whole pile of luggage down to Newark? After all we couldn't fly out of Burlington as the planes are all too small. Why you rent a U-Haul trailer and have Tristan come up. In this way he could take the car back to DC and use it while we are gone. This would also give Tristan a chance to learn how to shut down the house.

We were going to drive down to Newark on Friday for our Saturday flight, so I made reservations at the dog friendly Sheraton at the airport. Thursday arrives and I have time to race one last time on Victory. Diane was going to say good bye to her Uncle and Aunt and meet me at the after-race barbeque. We have an excellent race in good wind, including an exciting boat on boat finish. We get on the launch and go to the clubhouse where Diane was waiting. She informs me that Tristan would not be coming as he missed his flight due to some train miscue. I am not a happy camper, but I am assured by Tristan that he will meet us in Newark. If you see him, be sure to ask him how he missed his flight.

Friday arrives and we close down the house. Drain the pipes, adjust the heat, etc. There is plenty of room in the small trailer for everything and without Tristan, the dogs can spread out in the back of the Subaru. We stop at Uncle  Bob's to settle up on a tractor I bought because my friend Dick said he would be willing to  occasionally mow my lawn if there was a riding mower (Thanks Dick). Forty five minutes later we still have not gotten a final price on the mower, I leave Bob with a check and tell him to let me know what it cost. I am still waiting to find out, so if any of you talk with Uncle Bob, perhaps you can ask him. At 11 AM we depart and arrive in Newark at 5. Tristan is waiting for us in the room and all we need is a smooth departure on Saturday. We manage to find pizza and beer for dinner and we turn in early.

Early the next morning we are off to Continental's pet-safe office at the terminal.  It was truly a pleasure dealing with people that were efficient and knowledgeable. The dogs are loaded up and we get our luggage and say our goodbyes to Tristan, who has to return the U-haul someplace in Newark. We left him with a GPS, so it could not have been that bad. After boarding, we check with the flight attendant and she tells us the dogs have been successfully loaded. Off we go. Arrival in Guatemala goes without incident, all of our luggage is there, but where do we pick up the dogs. Turns out we pick up the dogs right next to the baggage carousel. I pay the 30 dollar import fee, (no receipt was available, no surprise) and they load up the dogs on a large trolley. Somehow we manage to get everything through Customs without a hitch, though they x-ray each and every piece of luggage. Our biggest fear was that there would not be anyone to meet us, but as promised Eddie and Paola are there. We had told them to bring a large vehicle or two, but they had no clue what they were in for. They had come in a tiny Hyundai Getz and large SUV. Somehow after breaking down the kennels and loading all of the luggage there was enough room for all of us. We safely arrive at our new home.

So for those of you waiting to hear another horror story of dog shipping, you have been sorely disappointed. It all went well and we are all doing fine.