I am running dangerously low on cash. I oped to pay another night at Aaculaax because it was just so pleasant there. Also the bed was amazing! Plus having met the renters I was more than happy to support them for an extra night. However I really did need to head for a ATM. The only fly in the ointment is that there are no ATMs here in San Marcos. The closest one is in San Pedro. A fact I wish I knew before I departed yesterday.
I got very frustrated when the first two ATMs didn’t work. I had to go ask in a travel agency where there was another one, which turned out to be up the hill and past the market. After Volcan San Pedro I felt slightly bitter about climbing this hill, however this one was much more manageable...and short. Finally with cash in hand I was able to figure out my next move. Which meant a return trip to Antigua in order to book transportation to Lanquin and also Semuc Champey. I only hope that I can head straight from Lanquin to the Copan Ruins in Honduras. I also ran into my buddy Michael again, who seemed shocked to see me back in San Pedro. He asked if I hated San Marcos that much that I returned the next day. I informed him that while the walkways are narrow, I have yet to encounter hippies informing me that my aura was broken.
After discovering that my Internet Cafe was closed, I headed to Hummus-Ya for more hummus. Apparently I just can’t get enough of this stuff. I spent my midday eating a pita sandwich and hummus while reviewing my Spanish lessons. I definitely wish I had better recollection of how to conjugate the verbs I learned. All I can say is I have a lot more work ahead of me. However, I did have an opportunity to practice my Spanish with this little old woman who I had frequently run into on the streets of San Pedro who sold cookies and bread. She was trying to get money apparently to send her daughter to school for her final lesson. You hear stories like hers all the time here, of people struggling to provide for their families. As heart breaking as it is, you can’t help them all or really know where your money goes. At the end of the day I think everyone here in Guatemala is slightly worse for wear, especially when the number of tourists has been so low this year. Life is definitely difficult for the people here.
The boat ride back to San Marcos I spent studying Spanish vocabulary while Coldplay’s Parachute album played over the speakers. Of all the places to hear that album, I was definitely surprised to hear it on my boat ride back to San Marcos. Still tuckered out from the days exhaustion (aka eating too much hummus) I passed out on my very comfortable bed. I woke up just in time to make my way back to the same house I went to yesterday for a birthday celebration for one of the ladies I met yesterday. The problem was that I forgot the name of the place. Now I know it to be called “Pierre’s Place”, but the tuk tuk driver I hired had only “la casa con verjas de negro” or the house with a black gate.
My tuk tuk driver was an entertaining character and was also a prime person to practice Spanish with. His name is Diego, he is 22 years old and born only 2 days after me. He asked me about Canada, what I did in Canada, and about university there. He also asked me if I was married, a very popular question here. I lied and said that I had a boyfriend back home. Sometimes that is so much easier than telling the truth. But he informed me that it was common in this area for people to be married very young, yet he was not married yet. Interesting.
My evening at the expat compound was intensely enjoyable. I met a few other Canadians, one who worked in Afghanistan and had some interesting stories, as well as a ex-cop from London. We discussed places to travel, more local gossip, and fat sherpas in Nepal. They also seemed nervous for me when I told them that I arranged to go paragliding with Gui, a French expat who was taking me paragliding on Saturday. However while I believed in their worry, I didn’t get the sense from him that he would be a danger. After all he was strapped to me and equally doesn’t want to get hurt. Right?
I said my final goodbye to the New York couple who had been so friendly to me while I was here, and wish them well on the last leg of their journey. They are moving to Los Angeles when all is said and done and I wish them the very best. They were also nice enough to wait for my tuk tuk to arrive.
My final tuk tuk driver of the evening was Luis. A man who appeared to be 17 years old who also had his wife in the backseat with me and a boy around 7-9 years old sitting next to him. They all just looked so young, and I asked in surprise if the young boy was her son. She laughed rather hard and said that her son was only three years old. Still she looked far too young to have children, let alone have a three year old. Even though I might have insulted her, she wished me well with a smile on her face. So apparently I hadn’t made a terrible impression.
I had another relaxing evening reading and listening to the vain attempts of a fly to escape my room. It was a very peaceful night.
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