Hello from Guatemala!

So, without further ado, a post.

Isolde and I reached a little town called San Pedro del Lago yesterday after bouncing from touristy Antigua and Panajachel. That´s not to say it´s not nice and touristic here -- we´ve got little, three-wheeled taxi trikes carry visitors up winding stone streets, and football (which I will not be referring to as ¨American football¨) -- but it´s less hectic.

A bit of history: We landed in Guatemala City -- a sprawling urban center, home to more than 1/10 of the country´s 12 million people -- early Thursday morning, then immediately hopped a cab to Antigua. The former capital, Antigua´s claim to fame is its colonial ruins and volcanoes. Brightly painted, single-story facades face its narrow, cobblestone streets, on which tourists from Guatemala and abroad roam.

From there, we took a garishly decorated retired school bus to Panajachel. What was supposed to be a cheap ride got much more expensive when a very nice seeming woman managed to steal about $100 from Isolde. The lady slit Isolde´s skirt and hidden money pouch to get the Quetzals. Not much fun.

The ride itself was a bit of an education on Guatemala. It´s easy to see how folks from these mountains come to work in Washington´s fields. An unending Spring in the highlands leaves the world a familiar shade of green, and there are even a few pine trees. Lines of men carrying wide-bladed hoes can been seen from the bus, and women weave by the bus stops waiting for someone to buy their wares.

The same day we got in to Panajachel, an American living in the city was nearly lynched by a mob. Not that we noticed. My loving mother informed me the following day via e-mail. Apparently the man was thought to have sexually assaulted an 11-year-old. As Pana seems to be a home for lost souls -- think Seattle´s University Ave. but much, much cheaper -- it wouldn´t suprise me if the mob was correct. The AP said the man was a tourist, but I´ll wager that he was more of an expat.

That brings us to yesterday, when Isolde and I took a launch across Lake Atitlan to San Pedro del Lago, from which I´m writing. The ride was a treat -- $2 bought a seat on a narrow motorboat that took us across what must be one of the world´s most gorgeous lakes. Created by a colapsed volcano, the lake is ringed by green peaks. As a Washingtonian, it´s strange to see tall mountains devoid of snow. But, as it´s now the cold season and temps aren´t dropping below 55 or so, I think I can get used to it.

San Pedro is a treat. Old stone and tile roads wind up a mountain from two docks, meeting at a gritty market that serves as the town center. Most of the people here are Mayan, and speak to one another in language that has yet to be displaced by Spanish. Women in traditional dress ply tourists on the streets with woven goods and baked goodies. The bannana bread is unbelievable -- it tastes like American bannana bread but somehow more bannana-ish.

It´s also mind-blowingly affordable. A hotelroom with bathroom and lakeview runs about $5, and most meals cost $2 to $4. The only drawback is that beer prices seem to be set by some higher power -- $3 a liter, would you believe. I know it´s not the worst thing the Guatemalan government has done, but ...

We´re off to another lakeside town tommorow called San Marcos. It´s home to some meditation center, so if I come back asking to read your aura, please understand. More importantly though, all the hotels have something called a Mayan sauna -- proof that all good people are Finnish, deep down -- and there´s $2 yoga for my bendy traveling companion. From there, we´ll be heading to Quetzaltenango, where we´ll be studying Spanish.