Really? The United Fruit Company?

Yesterday took so much out of us that we dropped into bed almost as soon as we were through the door so I didn't have an opportunity to post. After sleeping soundly for almost 10 hours, I'm ready.

We were picked up from our hotel at 7 a.m. for our trip to Huehuetenango and by the time the minivan arrived, it was quite full so we anticipated a relatively uncomfortable ride. There was another American couple in the van, from Oakland, who were interesting. They were in Guatemala because of a particular interest in Mayan culture, but because of their political activism had taken a side trip to San Salvador in order to pay their respects to Archbishop Romero. We only had a short time to speak with them, because it turns out, actually, "directly to Zaluceu" doesn't mean exactly what one might think, and, after only an hour and a half, we stopped at a Texaco station in a town about 15 minutes outside of Quetzaltenango, where everyone else in the van was transferred to other vans.

We waited for about 15 minutes before being loaded with all new people from Quetzaltenango who were headed to the Mexican border before we were on the road again. One of the party who joined us was a girl from the Netherlands who was in Guatemala for five months working on her Master's thesis about the short and long-term effects of Hurricane Stan. Thanks to Florinda, once again, because until this week we had never heard of Hurricane Stan or known about the devastation it left in its wake. We stopped at another Texaco station, this one in Huehuetenango where a taxi was waiting to take us to the ruins.

The best possible thing we have ever done is to confirm our arrangements for return to Panajachel before getting into the taxi, because no one was going to come back for us. Here on the blog I will attribute this to a "miscommunication" but in my private musings I might consider we were the victims of a shakedown. Oh wait... this is the blog, not my private musings so it is too late to keep that idea to myself. In any case, after an angry phone call from the Texaco station to the travel agent in Panajachel and lots of back and forth in fast Spanish triangulated between the minivan driver and the taxi driver and Chris, we were compelled to pay an additional $40 on the spot for the taxi to return us to the Texaco and the van to return us to Pana after seeing the ruins. Those of you who know Chris know it wasn't easy for him to remain courteous throughout this exchange (but he did!) and it wasn't easy to reclaim the day.

The current Rough Guide is wrong about how much it costs to gain entrance to the grounds. If you are Guatemalan it is only Q5, but they charge extranjeros 1000% more. Not 10% or 100% but 1000% more... sort of funny.

A small but valid part of the reason Chris and I picked Guatemala this year is because we were struck by the enormity, grace, beauty and architecture of the Mayan ruins in the Yucatan. We realized last week that because of the arrival of our friends and family this week and the distance between here and there that we probably would not get to Tikal, the major Mayan ruins in Guatemala. That was the motivation for our trip to Huehuetenango yesterday, to see the ruins at Zaculeu.

The site was occupied as early as the 5th century and there are six large structures and probably a dozen more that are still unearthed beneath the grassy knolls that dot the landscape. Thank goodness for those that are still unexcavated because if ever the government itself has money or a university receives a grant to do it, they will hopefully do so well. In the 1940s, in an act of preservation, the United Fruit Company covered all of the exposed structures at Zaculeu with white plaster. That doesn't make them the idea of them less neat, but some of their beauty is lost under all that plaster.

Because Chris and I have the luxury of time here, I don't think the trip to these ruins was a waste, but if anyone out there is using our ramblings to put together an itinerary of their own for a shorter trip--leave Huehuetenango and its associated ruins off your list.

Because of the confusion about our return trip to Panajachel, we were required to stay at the ruins for a full hour longer than our original plan dictated. The grounds are lovely and I had my book and journal and Chris had his iPod and his uncanny ability to nap anywhere in any circumstance so we lounged in the grass for an hour or so waiting. It was a pleasant enough way to pass the time but I hadn't expected to be out in the noonday sun for quite so long and my skin suffered a bit as a result. It was also a long time to go without any real food, having had our breakfast before we left at 7 a.m. The only concessions near the grounds sold chips and soda and grilled meat. There is a picture of one such concession stand in the slide show to the right of this text... notice the extremely long extension cord powering it?

Finally, our taxi driver returned which was a small victory: I only half believed they would come back for us despite paying them the $40. He took us back to the Texaco where we waited, again out in the sun, again not believing we would ever get home, for another half an hour or so for the minivan.

Again, it was not a direct drive. We stopped about a half an hour from where we were picked up for a 20 minute rest which was maddening to us but probably necessary for the people who had been in the car since the Mexican border. Unlike the trip to, the trip from brought the passengers directly to Quetzaltenango, which is about a half hour out of the way, but at least every other person was deposited there so we had room to stretch out. From there, it should have been an easy drive back, but we were stuck in a very bizarre traffic jam for over 30 minutes and then encountered a storm of rain and fog that made visibility so poor my stomach hurt as we made those steep mountain turns at a speed I didn't think advisable. It took us about four hours to get home.

Neither of us had the energy for groceries or cooking, so we stayed in town for dinner and walked around a bit in the cool night air which was a relief from the figurative and literal heat of the day. By the time we got back here, like I said, we dropped into quiet stupors and readied for bed like zombies. Chris is now patiently waiting for me to finish this so we can jump on a boat and explore San Pedro. Hold on... is it patiently waiting if he just composed lyrics to a song the refrain of which has to do with my constant blogging?