Four Vignettes

Peasant girl at the market
The Shamen's room
Art in the Shamen's room
Maximon - A strange idol from this area. This one was in the Shamen's room.
Hotel Parrot

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4 Vignettes

1.Gerald’s Crash
Sir Gerald is our oldest member. He’s the gent from southern England whose accent is so thick even the Brits find him hard to understand. Gerald is retired from some type of electrical business. He had a type of rheumatoid arthritis a few years ago that was so bad he was virtually crippled. He found a doctor who cured him and Gerald is raising money to advance that medical technique. He is well liked and personable.

Four days ago we were at breakfast and I was next to Gerald. He didn’t seem to be himself. When his scrambled eggs came he mumbled something, pushed them aside and abruptly left the room. I asked his roommate if Gerald was OK and was told he was just a little under the weather.

Mac and I left shortly thereafter and stopped at a waterfall 100 miles down the road. When the others arrived we heard that Gerald had taken a left turn too wide on a mountain pass and had landed hard in a ditch. His bike was damaged and is not drivable, he and it had to be put in the van. He said his only injury was a groin pull, or maybe he said his spleen’s full. We’re not sure what he said, and he has been going downhill rapidly. Whatever malady he had at breakfast seems to be getting much worse. Normally he’s very active and enthusiastic. For the last few days he’s been down and obviously depressed. Nobody likes to drop their bike at speed. Not only is it dangerous but it casts doubt on your driving skills. All of the Brits in this group are skilled bikers. In England they have a multi-level driving permit system for motorcyclists. The higher the level you achieve, the lower your insurance costs. In England bike insurance is very expensive. Our group of English bikers have all attained the highest level, Gerald too. His accident was solely his fault. There were no cows, trucks, road rocks or goats to blame. That makes it doubly depressing for our oldest member. Not only is he sick, with a broken bike, but his driving ability is now in question. Personally I think I know why he crashed. Gerald rides with one of the fast groups. Aussie Andy leads a trio of expert riders who, in my opinion, ride recklessly fast every day. Gerald has the skill to ride with them but it is very stressful. Your full attention must be focused on what you are doing each second, disaster lurks around each bend. Gerald was riding with these maniacs that morning and wasn’t able to fully concentrate because he’s ill. Mac and I offered to let him join our relaxed group once his bike is repaired. We think he said “That would be fine”. He may have said “I need more wine”.

2. Snow Blind
The ride from San Cristobal, Mexico to Panajachel, Guatemala was only 260 miles but may have been our most harrowing. Everything was fine for the first 180 miles then we entered the mountain passes as traffic increased and the rain started. The road itself was surprisingly well maintained and smooth. This allowed the drivers of trucks and busses to go faster than appropriate for the conditions. In the last 80 miles of mountain rain I saw three vehicles that had gone off the road, one a large overturned truck. In such cases the people on the road quickly pull out their machetes and cut shrubs from the side of the road. They pile these in the middle of the road to warn other drivers of the need to slow down so the victims can be taken care of.
The rain was not the day’s worst feature. In the mountains the fog was so thick that I couldn’t see the road. I put on my emergency flashers to keep trucks and Mac from rear ending me and I followed a small truck’s emergency flashers as he climbed up and down the shrouded passes. At one point Mac and I pulled over to check our directions. We were unsure of the route. Just then one of our fast groups pulled up. They had GPS (mine’s being repaired) and asked us to follow them. We did. The fog lifted momentarily and we were soon racing up and down mountain turns, passing all vehicles at a reckless pace. After two miles I eased off the throttle and let them go. I saw no sense in trying to keep up with these lunatics. I dropped down to our usual pace and again came into another fogbank. Minutes later I came upon a line of stopped traffic. As I approached I saw one of our group’s big BMW GS Adventure bikes upside down in a ditch. Aaron, the only other American on the trip, had tried to pass a large truck, in a bend, on the right side – just as the pavement turned from smooth asphalt to wet construction dirt. He was wearing full protective gear and was unharmed. He’d apparently seen the dirt section a little before he hit it and grabbed his ABS brakes hard. He shed enough speed so that he wasn’t going too fast when he went down. Typical of these fast riders, he didn’t admit to driver error. He blamed the truck, the dirt, and the fog. In fact it was all about riding faster than he should have. It’s like skiing. You must always be in control, even when a novice slides in front of you. These guys need to slow down!!

3. Guatemalan Witchcraft-The Shamen
As you may remember I have a terrible pain in my back. Mac and I were at the famed market in Chichicastenango and were approached by a guy who spoke excellent English. He asked if we needed anything. I told him I was having trouble walking, with a great deal of pain. "We'll go to the shamen then" he said as he hailed a Tuk-Tuk, one of the omnipresent 3 wheeled taxis in the larger cities. We all got in and went through town to a shabby area. We stopped in front of a row of buildings. Our guide started up a long concrete stairway that was between two buildings. The building's walls were not parrallel and the stairs got narrower as we climbed. By the time we reached the tiny door our shoulders were rubbing both walls. We ducked through the little door and found six females on the rooftop area where little sheds had been thrown together, for sleeping, I suppose. The Shamen was elsewhere but one of the girls ran to fetch her.

I was lead into a small room with little candles everywhere, a bench, Maximon, assorted flower pots and quasi-religeous pictures. I haggled with her about the price, started to leave and then she came down to my number. She pushed out the others and then rubbed a secret herb concoction on my back and leg. She massaged the muscles for a few minutes then had me stand. She pulled a large bunch of flowers out of one of the flowerpots, spread secret ingredients on the stems and then began hitting me with the whole mess. She beat me about the back, thighs and legs. Finally she rubbed the flowers in my hair and gave me one more smack on the back and said "Ya". You're done. The entire experience was a marvelous slice of life. Remarkably I was completely cured for nearly an hour.

4.The incredible market of Chichicastenango

Always described as the largest market in Central America, Sunday in Chichicastenango is a sight to behold. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people come to sell their wares. You can buy most anything here. All transactions are by barter. The attached slideshow indicates how colorful the market is but doesn't convey how crowded it is, the smells nor the sounds. I spent hours tryin to see it all.
These people pack everything up at the end of the day and load it onto each family member who then trudges off. The amount of physical labor these people do is hard to describe. They are a small people, descendents of the Mayans, and they carry loads easily twice their weight - uphill - and for miles. Any female in Guatemala, under 60, could beat anyone in our group in arm wrestling, and then kick their ass for being weak.