San Marcos La Laguna (Lago Atitlan 1)

We are a little bit excited when the voyage starts - again. At 7 o'clock in the morning the shuttle picks us up, and an uneventful journey of around 3 hours takes us to a border town into Guatemala. 

The big mystery (do we have to pay 350 Mexican pesos when we leave the country?) is finally solved (no, we don't, because we arrived prior to the 4th of November. Everyone after that date has to pay the fee. Alright.) For a fee of 5 Quetzales (ca. 0.50 Euros), we get our stamps and the permission to travel in Guatemala for 90 days. We unload our backpacks, lug it to the next microbus, and jump aboard for the next half of the journey. 

The Guatemalan roads don't have topes (speed bumps in Mexico), but tumulos (speed bumps). Apart from that, the roads are narrower, curvier, but in general okay. We still arrive in Panachajel only when it starts to get dark. 

We quickly make our way down to the docks and board one of the lanchas, which are small motorboats for around 20 passengers and the common public transport on Lago Atitlan.
For 25 Quetzales, the capitán takes us to several small villages along to lake shore, and finally to San Marcos La Laguna, where we have decided to stay for the next couple of days.

Lago Atitlan, at an elevation of 1500 meters, and surrounded by the tree-covered cones of three volcanoes, really really is beautiful.

San Marcos, one of the smaller villages at the lakeside, with it's tiny footpaths, lush vegetation all throughout the settlement, and the variety of cafés, restaurants, gardens, and meditation centres, is charming, too.

Although we are close to high season, we manage to find an affordable room, get a hot meal, and fall into our beds (11 hours of bus- and boat-ride are tiring indeed.)

Hamock view from our second hostel in San Marcos

Stairs to our room. Beautiful!

On the next morning, after a breakfast of porridge and pancakes, we set out to explore. And well.. despite the fact that the village is nice and all, it's.. odd. The first place upon arrival of the dock you can see (with a large sign) is the Posada Schumann. Doesn't sound like a Guatemaltecan name? That's because it isn't. After walking for a while, we found that actually all of the "nice" spots close to the lakeside seemed to be owned by either Europeans or US-American citizens. Many of them teach Indian meditation techniques or other spiritual disciplines from even further-away lands.

I feel quite ashamed to be so cynical, but I can't help myself. So.. what the heck? Loud and raucous party tourists that blindly ignore local customs are bad enough, but to me it seems even more hypocritical to preach universal peace and harmony while stealing the best bits of land.

(Well, okay, buying, for an amount of money that can't be refused by the local landowners but is still close to nothing by European standards. To elaborate: Right now, I could afford a private flat in Vienna with a size of 2 square metres (yes, two. Not more.), or a property with a small house, a storage shed, two outdoor pools as well as bathroom facilities for spa guests, plus around 500 m² of lush garden that is currently for sale in San Marcos.)

How can I even start to think about uniting my spiritual self with the transcendent light of the stars (or whatever. I'm sorry, I have not clue at all about this, and I would like to learn eventually. But definitely not here!) when I'm creating a small foreign colony based on unequality and financial violence? 

Hell, people aren't even trying to speak Spanish in the streets (yes, also Spanish is a language introduced by ursurping conquistadores here, but at least it's spoken and understood by all local people nowadays), but instead English seems to be the universal language. And they speak in English of Light, Peace, Harmony and Love, while the little local girl that probably should be in school right now is selling them a cup of freshly squeezed organic orange juice.

What I do enjoy about this village is my water-line spot, which I find on the  second day here. After that, slacklining in the lake is my fixed morning programme, and I can feel some of the village's special spiritually soothing atmosphere creep back into my wretched soul. No honestly, I just enjoy slacklining a lot. 

(I'm sure someone, somewhere can teach me some kind of Yoga that I can do on a slackline, and I will be very happy indeed. But again, no-one from this colony, please.)

Also, on the second day we find a locally-owned and -run hostel. We are content.

Heroic man and his slackline. Okay, sorry, couldn't help it and had to pose a bit.

A little bit outside downtown San Marcos.

For some reason, Hannah starts giggling every time she sees that phot and calls me "Goofey". It is, in fact, a photograph of me walking downhill, with a slope of roughly 8 degrees.

An excursion to San Pedro La Laguna, the second-biggest town on the lake after Panajachel, reveals a different mix. Party tourists stick to run-down but cosy beachside-bars, hardcore travellers sell their jewelry and juggling prowess on the streets, and in between local life continues, only maybe a bit wealthier, because these Gringos sure do spend a lot of money. But it feels.. well mixed, in a much healthier way than back in San Marcos.
And we find a Spanish school (it's actually hard not to stumble upon one in San Pedro, because there are many!), locally run as all of them are, with teachers from the San Pedro or the villages around. This one is special only because the little tables for the classes (only one-on-one classes, exceptionally two pupils to one teacher in our case possible) are beautifully set in a garden right next to the lake. A classroom can't get much better than this.

Camionetas in San Pedro ready for some action. Just because they are over 20 years old, it doesn't mean they can't hurl over Guatemaltecan roads at neckbreaking speed.

Wall paintings in San Pedro: Classical maize farming...

... and genetically modified crops. The local way to say: Screw you, Monsanto & co.

One of the busier roads in San Marcos.

Mountains and maize.

Due to torrential rains a few years ago, the water level of Lago Atitlan rose about 3 meters. People around here seem to be used to catastrophes, life just goes on.

So our new plan looks like this: We travel to Xela for Christmas, and then return to San Pedro for one week of intensive (4 hours per day) Spanish classes.

With this resolution we head back to San Marcos, pack our bags, and head over the lake to Panajachel to board our very first camioneta (popularly known as "chicken buses" among Gringos) to Xela.

Tuk-tuk, camioneta, Hannah, very fresh fruit. Happy combination.