Home Is Here

After climbing Santa Maria and saying "hasta luego" to our friends in Xela, we started the 60 hour journey back to Ithaca.

Long trip:  
bus from Xela to Guate;
overnight in Guate;
attempt to fly out the next morning;
my flight is majorly delayed while Dave's was not;
consequently I miss my connecting flight in Ft. Lauderdale and spend the night in Florida while Dave continues on to NYC;
good thing I packed lots of food (Spirit gives you nothing) and my toothbrush (Dave had the rest of my carry-on);
realize once again that America is SO unfriendly to newcomers and visitors (so much for "give me your tired and poor");
fly to NYC the next morning (thankfully I didn't have to wait until the following evening);
Dave and I get horribly lost leaving LGA and end up in Staten Island (!);
arrive in Ithaca 60 hours after leaving Xela.

And now I'm home...

...it's been AWESOME.

We took a climbing road trip up to Rumney, NH over Memorial Day weekend and climbed until there was no skin left on our fingertips.  Dave had some impressive leads (I <3 my rope gun), as many of our other climber friends.  I redpointed a few routes I had flailed on last autumn.  Maybe I'm finally getting stronger.

this doesn't suck. top-roping the 5.11 at 5.8 crag

Random aside:  I've now surpassed the climbing goal I wanted to achieve when I first started.  Within another year, I think I will surpass my revised goals.  The funny thing about goals is that they're always a receding target.  I am thankful I have become wiser to this phenomenon.

this route kinda sucked.

What else, what else.

Ithaca Festival.  Yay, the students are gone, let those freak flags fly!

make art!

goats on cayuga street

We found a new apartment.  Not quite downtown, but a short uphill bike ride to South Hill.  Even though we don't move 'til August, the landlord is allowing us to garden all summer.  Score.

paste tomatoes plus six different open-pollinated/ heirloom tomato varieties, peppers, zukes, cukes, green beans, purple beans, radishes, lettuce, spinach, kale, strawberries (if i can keep the damn squirrels away), basil, thyme, oregano, stevia, chamomile, chives, mint.
wanted pea pods/ snow peas but couldn't find seeds.

I guess that's all:  here I am.  And for the first time in a long time, it seems right to be here.

I joke about the "Saturn Return" with my friends.  Every 27-30 years, Saturn returns to the position it was in the sky when you were born.  Supposedly, the late twenties are a period of significant change and upheaval in people's lives--getting married (or not, if the State doesn't allow you that right), having kids, major life transitions, career struggles, existential questions.  I put zero faith in astrology, but I surely don't doubt the concept of the Saturn Return.  For me, ages 25 to 30 was wild!

But after all of the upheaval, the here and there, the newness and change, I've found myself living about 2 miles from where I lived in August of 2000, when I first moved to Ithaca.  And for all of the changing that's happened in the past 12 years, I'm more myself now than ever before.

For the first time in a long time, it seems right to be here, on all levels.  In a town that I love, with a guy whom I love, with friends whom I love, doing things that I love to do.

gorges

I'll probably continue to update this blog periodically, especially for trip reports or travels.  I'm thinking about migrating over a few posts from the old Peru blog, just to have them all in one place.  Might write a little about the garden or share some recipes (how to make super easy, super delicious, super cheap yoghurt, for example).  I start my new job on June 18th, though, so who knows how much time I'll want to spend on the computer.

One final picture.  This one from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan on the drive out to Minnesota.

P.S.  Honeymoon in Patagonia?

I'm Not Leaving Until I See That Damn Volcano

Volcano Santiaguito is one of the most active volcanoes in the world, burping out smoke and farting out gas every 20-40 minutes since 1922.

(Considering the state of my stomach in Guatemala, let's just say that I can empathize with Mother Earth's indigestion.)

Santiaguito is stuck to the southwest flank of Volcano Santa María, less than 10 km from Quetzaltenango/ Xela.  With a real, live volcano practically in our backyards, how could we leave town without seeing it?

There are two ways to see Santiaguito:  hike to an overlook/ mirador on the side of Santa María, or hike all the way to the top of Santa Maria.  Dave and I did both.

Hiking (Independently) to the Santiaguito Mirador

I put the (independently) in parentheses because you will probably get lost and might get robbed on this hike.  If that's intimidating, never fear--you can always hike with Quetzaltrekkers!

Dave and I did this hike with a few people we met through QT.  We did get lost, a bunch of times, though we didn't get robbed.  Along the way, Dave was smart enough to take some photos for trail notes to share with other independent hikers.

First, take a bus from the Iglesia El Calvario near the cementerio to the village of Llanos del Pinal, at the end of the line.  You might have to get on a bus headed into the city of Xela, toward Minerva terminal, because it seems like sometimes the buses take different routes into and out of the city.

When you get off the bus, continue up the main road in the village, toward Santa María.  At the end of the village, the road will appear to turn right--you want to continue straight, up a drainage, through agricultural fields.

go straight here, into the fields

Follow the drainage as it gently ascends, always aiming for the cone of Santa María.  After a while, you'll pass some "spiky trees."  There will be a few paths branching off to the left--these go to Santa María.  Stay straight.

spiky trees: go straight on

Within a few minutes after the spiky trees, as you pass a wooden fence on the right, the path will split.  Take the right junction.  Based on the contours of the land, it almost feels like you're going straight.  This is the only real junction on the entire hike.

wooden fence: go right, which sort of feels like going straight

From this point, you are no longer traveling directly toward the cone of Santa María, but rather traversing across her flank, always gaining altitude slowly.  Continue on the path, which will become a dirt road for a while.  When the dirt road opens into a grassy area, again continue straight through.

dirt road to grassy area: continue straight through

After this section, the trail gets overgrown and messy.  If it gets too crazy, though, consider whether you're still on the main trail.  You shouldn't feel like you're bushwhacking into a jungle.  Always follow the major herd paths.  At a few points, you'll need to cross makeshift fences of sticks.  Please don't disturb the fences, as they keep livestock in place.  We had to cross two makeshift fences, and I get the impression these fences are put up and taken down regularly.

By the time we got to the mirador (after several wrong turns and some crazy bushwhacking--remember, if it seems like you've taken a wrong turn, you have), the clouds had rolled in and there was no volcano to be seen.  We did hear it, though, rumbling like distant thunder.

no views. wahh.

Try again next time.


Climbing Volcano Santa María

In order to beat the clouds that roll in most mornings during the rainy season, we had to be up, literally and figuratively, early in the morning.  And what better way to be up and up than to climb Volcano Santa María under the light of the full moon and greeting the dawn from her summit!  We signed up for our hat-trick third hike with Quetzaltrekkers, the Santa María Full Moon hike.

The hike itself wasn't that hard.  We piled into the back of a delivery truck for the drive to the Llanos del Pinal trailhead and started hiking at 11:58 p.m.  The only less-than-agreeable part of the hike was a 45 minute break after only an hour of hiking to wait for a lone straggler, way behind the pack.  I wish the whole group didn't have to wait, because she ended up turning around at this point and we were all super cold and tired by the time we started hiking again.  Nonetheless, we had a pretty strong group and the first of us reached the summit by 3:40 a.m.  By 4:00 I was fast asleep in my sleeping bag.

zzz

Dawn brought us a decent but not spectacular sunrise.  It's always hazy and cloudy here, definitely not a great place for views.

snuggled in the sleeping bag--it's cold at 12,375 feet

But fortunately, we were able to look down directly over Santiaguito!  And we got to see two fantastic, loud, dramatic eruptions!

KA-BOOM!!! grumble rumble smash

As we turned our backs on the summit and started our descent, Dave commented that every step we took would bring us closer to home.  I liked that thought.  It reminded me of the moment during the roadtrip out West in 2011 when I turned around in California and, for the first time in a long time, started traveling east instead of west.  That time, I knew I wasn't ready to be home.

This time, I think I am.

from this point forward, every step brings us closer to home :-)

It's Just As Tiring as Climbing: Weaving on a Backstrap Loom

In Guatemala, textiles are everywhere. Especially in the highlands, where I've spent nearly all my time, the majority of women still dress in traje (traditional clothing). Men generally dress in western clothing.  It's definitely common to see a woman dressed like a photo in National Geographic walking around with a guy wearing Levis, a tee-shirt, and a baseball cap.  I guess it's because there has been more pressure on men to assimilate into western culture in order to work, whereas the Guatemalan woman's domain has remained at home.

women in traje selling flowers on the stairs of san tomas church in chichicastenango

Anyway, each place has its own style of corte (skirt) and huipile (blouse). Many (most?) of these pieces are still woven and decorated by hand, and they're beautiful, intricate, and colorful. It's mesmerizing, especially for me, because I enjoy dabbling in fiber arts and have a wardrobe of mostly earth-tone, solid color, boring clothing (no blingy flourescent pink or sequins).

I love traveling because I love learning/ experiencing/ appreciating things that I can't really learn/ experience/ appreciate at home. One of the things I wanted to do in Guatemala was learn how women make these beautiful textiles. I hooked up with Trama Textiles, a cooperative of women tejedores (weavers) in Xela for a 10-hour crash course in using a backstrap loom for weaving.

It took about three hours of prep work before I could even start weaving, then about six hours to weave a simple six-foot scarf. And let me tell you, I am so glad that I have well-developed shoulder and back muscles from climbing big rocks, because my arms were tired by the end!

Here's how the entire process of weaving a scarf, from start to finish.  If the text and pictures don't make any sense, just skip to the video at the end!

Step 1: Select your colors, one main color (green) and two contrasting colors (white and gold).

Step 2: Put the skeins of thread onto two rotating arms (known as a devanadera) and wind two threads together into a ball (devanar, to wind).

Step 3: Make your design. In my case, I had 180 threads to divide into a pattern of stripes.

Step 4: Wind the threads around a warp board (urdidor). Looking down at the urdidor, start at the upper right, cross down the inside, wrap around the bottom, and cross up the outside to the upper left. From the upper left, cross down the inside, wrap around the bottom, and cross up the outside. This is warping, or urdir.

The number of threads of each color in your design corresponds to the number of wraps you make. You'll end up with a stack of threads crossed over each other at the top pegs of the urdidor, like this:

Step 5: Set up (armar) the loom (telar de cintura). Apparently this takes a while, and can be a bit difficult, so my teacher did it for me while I went to lunch.

The top loops of the thread are wrapped around two dowels. There is another dowel, called a pulito, that holds up half of the threads. Beneath the pulito there's another dowel called a laviadura, whose threads hold up the other half of the threads.

Step 6: Strap yourself into the loom by putting the belt (cintura, though I think there's another name for it) around your waist and wrapping its threads around the bottom of the loom.

Step 7: Weave! ¡Teja! Weaving is divided into two processes, proceso uno and proceso dos.

Proceso uno:

Lift the laviadura, raising one half of the threads.

Insert the torpidor, an oblong piece of wood, under this half of the threads.

Pack down the threads already woven.

Rotate the torpidor, raising this half of the threads.

Pass the trama, a baton with thread wrapped around it, under this half of the threads. The thread on the baton becomes the weave threads (in contrast to the warp threads, which go lengthwise along the scarf).

Remove the torpidor.

Proceso dos

Slide together the laviadura and the pulito. This raises up the other half of the threads! Neat!

Insert the torpidor under the other half of the threads.

With the torpidor, pack down the thread that you just placed with the trama in proceso uno.

Rotate the torpidor to lift the other half of the threads.

Pass the trama under the other half of the threads.

Remove the torpidor. Start from the beginning of proceso uno again, using the laviadura to lift the first half of the threads!

If that didn't make any sense, here's what the sequence looks like when you put it all together:

Step 8: When you reach the end of the warp threads, cut the piece from the dowels and tie the lose ends in decorative knots.

All done!

Well, There Goes Dinner: From Xela to Xela Again

My thoughts at 3:00 a.m. as I tried not to get vomit on my pant cuffs.

I'm not sure why I always have *ahem* "tummy problems" on the road. Probably because I eat whatever I can find that's cheap and looks weird. In this case, though, I lost a delicious and perfectly safe pesto pasta dinner prepared by my guides.

siiiiiick

So that was the worst part of the "Lago Trek" from Quetzaltenango (Xela) to Atitlan. Now the good stuff!

Dave and I wanted to check out Lake Atitlan, and we figured walking would be a good way to cover the +/-50 km. Coincidentally, this happens to be Quetzaltrekkers's most popular trek. We'd hung out with the QT guides, friends, and clients at Casa Argentina, where we were staying and where QT is headquartered. It's nice to find a little community when you're away from home.

The trek started with a chicken bus ride to Xecam, a small village near Xela. From there, we spent most of the day walking through forests, meadows, and rural agricultural fields to the village of Santa Catarina, where we spent the night in the municipal hall (and where I lost my pesto pasta).

the grassland, nicknamed "alaska"

I awoke the next day feeling pretty rough—dehydrated, sick, and way over-tired. Sounds like good form for hiking! I (foolishly?) decided I would stick with the group and would hike the 12ish miles to Santa Clara. I did okay until the final hour, when I could barely stand up straight due to the pain and nausea. I collapsed as soon as we arrived at the home of Don Pedro, our host. After a few spoonfuls of rice for dinner, I fell asleep to the distant sounds of Don Pedro playing the guitar and his grandson singing in a Mayan language.

countryside

Wake-up call on the third day was 3:45 a.m. When you go to sleep at 8:00 p.m. that's not too bad! We hiked less than an hour up to a mirador overlooking Lake Atitlan. We were treated to the beginnings of a beautiful sunrise... and then the clouds rolled in. Oh well! I was feeling much better, so the hike down to the lake went quickly. From there, all 17 of us, plus backpacks and driver, piled into a pick-up truck to drive the 10 minutes between San Juan La Laguna and San Pedro La Laguna (apparently this small stretch of road is prone to robberies).

watching the sunrise over lake atitlan

Compared to the Nebaj trek, the hiking was easier (less uphill, warmer weather, sleeping inside, half the length). The group was much bigger and the trek was shorter, so I didn't get to know everyone as well. The region where we hiked was much less remote, local residents were friendlier, so it didn't feel like I'd fallen off the map. Minus the sickness part, it was a great hike.

the cross, the virgin, and the volcano

So we're at Lake Atitlan. Now what?

lake views

We spent one night in San Marcos, which has a bizarre hippy New Age feel to it, and one night in San Pedro, which has a bizarre generic tropical backpacker hub feel to it. To me, Lake Atitlan felt just as overrun with tourists as Antigua. Tourism can do a lot of great things for a place, and a lot of people love the villages of Lake Atitlan, but I just couldn't get into it. We kayaked one morning, which was nice, but it was time to move on.

kayaking

With only a week left in Guatemala, we decided to head back to Xela, where I could take a weaving course (more on that later) and for a third QT hike. On the way, we stopped off in Chichicastenango for its famous Sunday market, a crazy mix of chickens, dish soap, traditional weavings, tourist souvenirs, jewelry, cell phones, beans, and fruit.

moment of rest on the church stairs

At the moment, we're in Xela. I'm finishing my weaving tomorrow, and tomorrow night we'll be hiking Volcano Santa Maria under the light of the full moon. Then a bus ride to Guatemala City... and back to the USA.

Wow.

The Purple People Hike from Nebaj to Todos Santos

Apparently tiny shoeshine boys like frisbee.  Or maybe they just wanted a chance to be a kid for once.

In the central square in Nebaj, a village in the northwestern highlands of Guatemala, Dave was throwing a disc with a tall guy named Steve.  A dozen little boys fought for their attention and their toy.  Soon four older girls joined in (you go girls!); one of them had a decent throw and sent it to Dave every time (aww!).  Older boys stood around the outside of the circle, looking cool and desperately seeking a way into the circle without looking too eager.  Men sat on the church stairs and watched the show.  Women walking through the square appeared confused, annoyed, and amused.

frisbee in the main square

 A few of the boys crashed into a puppy pile, trying to rip the frisbee away from each other.  Steve, who just spent seven months working in an orphanage in eastern Guatemala, broke up the fight with a twitch of his head and a shake of his hand.  He took away the frisbee and walked out of the square.

The kids followed him.

He sat down on a bench.  The kids crowded around him.  They stared.  He stared back.

Steve launched into the funniest clown routine I've ever seen.  He made faces, pulled his ears, made his eyes big and small.  He made a rock appear and then disappear.  He switched around kids' baseball caps.  The kids squealed and hung their round, wide eyes on his every movement.  The adults around the square, who were pretending not to watch, snorted and smirked.  He was hilarious.

steve clowns with the kiddos

So began our walk through the northwestern highlands of Guatemala, starting in the village of Nebaj and walking west to Todos Santos.  It took six full days, two travel days plus four days of walking, to make the trek.  Here's what we did:




Yellow: places we slept. Blue: villages we walked through.Buses: where we took public transit. Tree: La Torre, highest non-volcanic point in Central America.View Nebaj to Todos Santos in a larger map.
We organized the trek through Quetzaltrekkers, an all-volunteer organization that leads outdoor adventures to raise money for Escuela de la Calle, a school and safe haven for disadvantaged youth.

I could go on and on and on about the trek, but Dave and I had so much fun that we immediately signed up for another trek with Quetzaltrekkers as soon as we got back to Xela.  So, this will be a quick summary of the trip.

DAY 1:  Nebaj

Day 1 was a travel day from Xela to Nebaj.  In Nebaj, we checked into a guesthouse for the evening, wandered through the market, and settled into the central square for a bit of frisbee.  The women in Nebaj wear slim, red traditional skirts.  My stomach was still a bit touchy, so I went to sleep immediately after dinner.

the ayudante ties stuff to the roof of the chicken bus... while it's in motion

DAY 2:  Xexocom

Right out of Nebaj, we hit the first big hill of the trip.  We crested the ridge and meandered down to the village of Acul.  This region has a very deep, very tragic history, particularly related to the recent civil war.  Seventy-nine out of 80 villages in the region either suffered massacres or were burned to the ground.  In Acul's case, villagers were forced at gunpoint to hurt and kill each other.

the village of acul

 After our somber break in Acul, we hiked through green pastures to, of all things, a cheese farm run by Italians.  It's a small world, after all!  We passed through the village of Xexuxcap and out of town along a dirt road.  The scenery reminded me so much of the Himalayan foothills in Nepal, steep and green and steep.  We followed the dirt road as it climbed across a hill and arrived in Xexocom, our home for the night.

reminds me of nepal...

We set up our camp in a school house.  Then, we took turns in a local family's tamascal, or traditional mayan sauna.  It was dark and steamy, relaxing and refreshing.  We had a dinner of rice, beans, an egg, and lots of corn tamales prepared by the same family.  Quetzaltrekkers rotates host families in the community so everyone can benefit.  Apparently, this is a nice economic boost for families, for not a lot of extra work.  Good to see money going directly to people who rarely, if ever, benefit from international aid.

camping out in the school

DAY 3:  Canton Primera

3:30 a.m. wake-up call, and we're hiking by 4:00 a.m. up the hill of 87 switchbacks.  It wasn't too bad, lots of huffing and puffing but it was so steep that we made fast progress.  We watched the sun rise over Acul, and Nebaj beyond.  Most of the way up the hill, we stopped for breakfast and basked in the morning sun.  From breakfast we hiked uphill again to reach the edge of the altiplano.

first glimpse of sun

I have never seen anything like this altiplano before.  Lots of green pasture, interrupted constantly by grey rocks of every shape and size.  Really stunning scenery!

shepherd on the altiplano

We passed through the villages of Chuatuj and Chortiz.  This was probably the most remote place I've ever been.  Instead of people smiling and waving, villagers stared from a distance, or just ran away entirely.  Our guides told us a story about a trekker pulling out a camera in Chortiz to take a photo of some kids.  The kids dropped to the ground and cowered; they thought the camera would steal their souls.  I have very few photos of people from this trip, even though they wear beautiful clothing.

distant horseman

The weather clouded up and it looked like it would rain.  Nice atmosphere to hike across the altiplano.  At the edge, we descended into the Pericon Valley to the village of Canton Primera.  There, we set up camp under the eaves of a decaying school.  We made a campfire and ended up cooking our pasta over the flames.  Played a game around the fire until an early bedtime.

dinner over the campfire

DAY 4:  La Ventosa

First thing in the morning, we walked down to the Pericon River, where we made breakfast and took a long break.  Looong break--this group does 2-3 hour meal breaks!  Dave and Lisa jumped in the freezing water.  Crazy.

crazy.

The hike out of the Pericon River Valley, through the village of El Pericon, and onto the second altiplano was way longer and harder than I expected.  I had the "Day Three Blues" (the third consecutive day of hiking is always the hardest).

pericon river

The second altiplano was not as spectacular as the first.  We followed a dirt road through scrubby pastures to the village of San Nicolas, which had a road.  People here have much more contact with the outside world; they waved and smiled as we passed.

guy on his bike, driving a few horses loaded with firewood

We had lunch under the shade of a lone tree, within sight of "The Hill of Terror."  It actually wasn't that bad. Dave was sick and he did it in under 10 minutes.  Crazy.

thumbs up (then he puked)

Descending the Hill of Terror, we ended up at the paved highway in La Capellania, where we picked up a microbus to cut out the walking along the highway.  We spent the night in La Ventosa with a man named Geronimo and his family, where we enjoyed another tamascal and a dinner of mashed potatoes with tortillas (starch and more starch).

sweating in the tamascal

DAY 5:  Todos Santos

We left La Ventosa with one of the family dogs, named Negrita, who would follow us all the way to Todos Santos and spend the night with us.  She does this with every group, enjoying the attention and the food the trekkers slip to her.

More uphill.  This trek actually does have more uphill than downhill, which is fine for my knees.  This uphill wasn't too steep, and we made good time up to La Torre, the highest non-volcanic point in Central America.  Ginny shared a very sad story about Geronimo's family and the village of La Ventosa from the civil war as we looked out over the valley.

view from la torre

From the high point of the trek, there was nowhere to go but down.  Down, down, down.  We descended through a cloudy, misty pine forest into a lush, mossy forest.  Down, down, down.  Eventually I needed a break for my knees (and my brain, downhill takes concentration!).  Turns out we were only 15 minutes from our lunch break, which we took at the base of a beautiful cliff overlooking the Todos Santos valley.

beautiful lunch break location!

The rest of the walk was easy; a Peace Corp volunteer had raised funds to construct trails within this park.  At the highway, I decided to take a bus directly to Todos Santos with Dave, as he wasn't feeling well, and Katie, who had an ankle injury.  The rest of the group continued through the valley.  We waited a while for a bus, but fortunately one did arrive eventually.

ceremonial putting away of trekking poles

In Todos Santos I wandered around with Katie, then met up with the group for a celebratory beer or three at a local cantina.  Our host family made us rice tamales for dinner, and we had a few more drinks in our room with a lot of laughs.

central square in todos santos, complete with guys in traje (traditional dress)

DAY 6:  Quetzaltenango

Not happy to be awake at 4:00 a.m. but our bus leaves at 5:00 a.m.  The first bus ride is surprisingly comfortable, and we get a very very quick bathroom break in Huehuetenango where we change to a chicken bus.  We're back in Xela's bus yard by a little after 9, and back at the QT office before 10.  We de-issue gear, swap photos and email addresses, and pay for a room upstairs.  Then it's time for a well-deserved nap, a hot shower, and a solid lunch.

the purple people!

So, that's the quick summary.  The highlights were the altiplano, the tamascals, the beautiful forest descending from La Torre, and the cute little dog that followed us on the last hiking day.  More photos from the trip are here.  I think they're worth a look!

Gotta run, I've still got to pack for the next trek and we're meeting the group at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow!