GUATEMALA -8-

SANTIAGO DE ATITLAN IS NOT DONE, YET

We are not done with the market, yet. As attractive as the stands for edible goods are, the non-edible goods stands are as gloomy; plastic toys of all kinds, who knows where they were produced, could they be some of the toxic-contaminated ones from China. Typical American style tank tops, T-shirts, shorts, skirts, pants, etc. Although, I haven’t seen this style of clothing on anybody on the streets that looked native, if they are in the market, there must be consumers for them. I wonder if tourism is what keeps the traditional weaving and embroidering alive. Is it possible that since there is a market for what they are producing, they are wearing it as well? I hope not, I hope they truly enjoy what they wear and are proud of who they are. I can’t help feeling warm to consumerist tourism for once, if it is what might be keeping this lovely interesting tradition alive, so be it. Perhaps it is good that Zeynep and I are also interested in their art and produce.  

Entrance to one of the art studios

Once we are done with the market, watching our watches, rather Zeyno’s cell phone: we head toward the simple church on the central plaza. As we are approaching it and as Zeyno slips her cell phone back into her backpack, the question that visits me very often comes back to me again: Where are we going with all this constellation of digital devices that take over our lives? We used to write letters, no more, we e-mail. We used to use type writers, no more, we type on our computers, I-phones, I-pads, you name it, although, I can’t say I will complain much about not having to use a type-writer any more. We probably are saving trees by switching to computer-based typing as well as saving a lot of time, at least so I’d like to believe. People would make friends at the gym, no more. Everybody, I mean it, everybody, except I, of course, is wired up in their own worlds with their own music, in solitude, cut off from the outside. If you see a friend and they are willing to say good morning, they have to unwire first.

We used to talk at least on the phone, now we have to text. Nobody picks up a phone anymore, too much time lost. Texting is what is in. As much as I resisted to that, in order to get a rapid response from my daughter, many of my friends, I ended up texting more than I would like as well. We used to read books, used to hear that whoosh sound of turning pages along with smell the scent of paper pages, even that is bound to its doom day. At least ¼ of the passengers on a plane will be reading off of their electronic devices. I am still resisting that, who knows how much longer I will be able to. I wonder with all this electronic life style, if human kind will evolve genetically over millennia and will not need human contact any more, will not need to converse with a human being face to face, will not fall in love any more? Food for thought…

The Church in Santiago de Atitlan

We are finally in the church. As simple as it is, it is still the most elegant building around. It is interesting that Christianity has deep, deep roots in this land. However, it also looks like traditional shamanism and Christianity evolved together and created a new identity for one another and most of the time dissolved in one another. Everything I read describes how Christianity had to accept shamanistic elements built into the way Christianity was practiced in this land, built into the structure of churches they built, into the manner with which priests preached, etc. It is still a bit disconcerting to me, though, to observe how religious a society this is in such a structured and rigid way.

We are back to our boat that will take us to our hotel. After retrieving our luggage from the hawk’s nest up above the dock, we will have to catch the next boat to take us to Panajachel so that we can catch our 4 pm shuttle to Antigua. We don’t know yet, what an adventure it will be.  As we walk down the main street, I am touched with a scene that creates a de ja vu feeling. Where did I see this scene before? The lake is as still as can be. Off the shore is a simple one-man boat. The man is paddling in a standing position and fishing. Ah, of course, this is what the artists up the street have been documenting over and over again. Mayan man fishing for his family in his simple canoe. I am very happy to memorialize this for myself.

Men seem to be fishing only, all else is done by women

Serendipitously, we are again on Pablo’s boat. We checked out of our casa del mundo already and left our luggage in the office to pick up on the way back. It is a pity that we will have to wait for half an hour at the dock for the next boat. There is no alternative, though. We will get off this boat, go up the 100 some stairs and find our friendly waiter, bellboy, whatever needs to be at the casa and ask him to carry our two heavy pieces to the dock to catch the next boat to Pana. But wait, Pablo has another idea. He asks Zeyno, who already told her about our plan in their casual conversation, whether our luggage is already packed. She says yes and as soon as I hear the question, hope rises in me “would they really?” Yes! They indeed do. Pablo volunteers, the boat can wait at the dock, he will run up with us to fetch the luggage. Fantastic, this will give us an additional 20 minutes, which calms down my anxiety about whether we will catch our shuttle or not.

Pablo waiting to jump off the boat to get to our luggage

This is what happens: The captain approaches the dock, the three of us jump out of the boat like deer over shrubs in the forest. Of course the two young fly up, do all the talking, and by the time I am up to pick up one of the luggage at least, Pablo has two backpacks and my carry on. Oh my, Antonio has the largest on his back and he is almost flying down a different path to beat Pablo to the dock. I look up to Zeynep to see what is happening. It looks like we have two helpers now. Zeyno shrugs her shoulders as if to say “Well, I wanted to take one of the luggage, but they wouldn’t let me” with a serene smile on her face. Ok, all we have to do then, is to prepare the tip, which we don’t mind at all. My heart, pounding in my chest with my hurry to help them at least with my carry-on, is full of affection for both of them. I wonder if part of all this unforgettable show is showing off to Zeynep, who knows. As we get to the boat, out luggage is being loaded and both boys are happy with their earning.

Everybody is happy. We both enjoy the lake for another 20 minutes, the wind blowing through our bandanas and hair, peace and affection filling our hearts for this place and its people. What is funny is that, as soon as the captain docks the boat in Pana, he jumps out of the boat and grabs our heavy luggage and carries it to the shuttle office. “They are quick learners” I murmur to myself with a smile on my face. All my worries about how we would carry our luggage were for nothing. As long as we have 10-20Q ready and perhaps as long as I carry Zeynep around, having an easy vacation around here is very easy.

                                                                       Our captain