GUATEMALA -9-

ANTIGUA-I

We are finally on our shuttle that will take us to Antigua, the most attractive and lively city in Guatemala I heard from many people and so I hear from Zeynep, who’s been to Antigua before. In fact, we will stay at the hotel that she stayed at earlier. Shuttle meanders up and around Lago de Atitlan for at least an hour with breathtaking views of the volcanoes and the lake itself. As the sun dives into the night behind the volcanoes, so do we into the yet another mountainous terrain that will lead us to Antigua in two-hours. We will spend our second to last night and last day in Guatemala, in Antigua. Antigua is one of the most resilient cities in Guatemala, I hear. Once the capitol, several times collapsed to its knees, but re-emerged from rubble many times. And now designated one of the world’s historical heritage sites, it indeed is the most vibrant among all other Guatemalan cities, at least of those that Zeynep and I have cumulatively seen.

Leaving Lago de Atitlan behind until the next time

We stay at Casa Rustica, a place Zeyno arranged. I am pleased with our room, clean, orderly, and has a spacious enough bathroom in it. What else will I need as I travel anywhere in the world but more so in a country with so little resources? Once we are settled down and have checked our e-mails, Zeynep starts calling her friends to make arrangements for dinner. Some of her friends from Xela are also in Antigua tonight. We will eat together. We have identified a Mediterranean restaurant, time to try something different after having eaten Guatemalan good for almost a week now. We want to see how ethnic food in Guatemala is served. And soon we will discover they do a superb job: phenomenal, as good as middle-eastern food gets anywhere in the world. And this is not only Zeyno and I claiming this, but also her two friends, who join us for dinner. 

Colorful Antigua with its renovated old structures

After dinner, the girls decide to go to a salsa dance when I head back to the hotel to get a good night’s sleep after traveling from early in the morning to late evening every day for almost a week now. Oh my! What an futile plan.  The bar nearby has jacked up its microphones; it feels like the drums are beating within my head. It is impossible to sleep. I get up planning to call the reception and ask “what the h… is going on?” As my hand goes to the phone I notice a note on the wall apologizing for the noise from the bar on Friday and Saturdays due to lack of any noise ordinance in town. It is almost unbelievable, “lack of noise ordinance” almost wants me to ask “is there any of that for anything around here?” I calm myself down reminding me of the disorganization I used to live with on my own land. The warmth, intimacy, expressivity that we so liked in this land go hand in hand with these "occasional" lack of ordinances... I have never appreciated my ear plugs this much. I dig them out. As I lie down with ear plugs in and two pillows pressed against my head, the noise is reduced only to a bearable level. Th drums are not beating in my head any more rather about a foot away!! It will take me another hour or two to finally drift into a very uncomfortable sleep.  In the morning, I make a mental note as to where not to stay in Antigua next time around.

The main market building in the "agora" of Antigua

It is good to wake up without having to set the clock. We will be afoot today, no boats, no shuttles to catch in the morning. We take it easy. On our last day in Guatemala, we are  wandering around in Antigua with no plans. We are just walking on calles and avenidas, trying to figure out where sur starts and norte ends. Churches emerge from around a corner unexpectedly. Some collapsed to the ground, even the ruins are impressive, waiting for funding to be fixed to their once-upon-a-time powerful identity. Artisan stalls are sweet spectacles in front of churches or ruins alike. One reminds me of the guy with a big curly head from Bolivia that we had met in San Pedro, who couldn’t sell Zeyno any jewelry on his last day (if true) in Guatemala. All the flirting he did ended up for nothing. Once he heard about Zeynep having a boyfriend in the US, he realized how futile his efforts were and gave up. Pleasant memory…

The most well preserved church in Antigua

Unexpectedly but pleasantly, we come across a spa. Zeynep being the queen of pleasures of life shows a jolly interest in the idea of getting a massage before leaving Guatemala. I submit, hoping my painful muscles from the volcano climbing a few days back may benefit from it, too. The first place turns out to be a total failure, the moment I see the dirty towels on which we will be asked to lie to get the massage, I know I can’t do it. But, we have made the decision already, we will leave Guatemala with a Mayan massage in our history. We start looking for a better place and eventually we do find one to our liking. Mayan massage place on San Luciano Norte, numero 20, just a few blocks down from the first place.

Yet another well preserved spectacular historic structure

A first in my life. Zen music starts shortly after Zeyno goes into the room where she will receive her massage. It is so soothing that I don’t know if I will be able to keep awake during the massage. Surely, it turns out to be a semi-conscious experience. Professional hands mobilizing each and every muscle that daily life leaves dormant. The juice of life rushing into each muscle, each cell, invigorating life in each of them. I never knew my hands had such small muscles that could be awakened. I never knew my neck could be this loose. I never knew deja vous and ja me vous could be experienced at the same time. I never knew massage was also yoga. Letting go somebody else take over the job of stretching and relaxing the muscles while I focus only on my breathing, total submission except for breathing.

Yes, it indeed turns out to be a rejuvenating experience, I may go back to this when I return to Iowa City. Especially after a difficult court case that involves a defendant: I know my testimony based on medical facts will get him into trouble. I know he is also a victim of his own childhood experiences that led to the abuse of his child in his own hands. And I: helpless with all this knowledge, confined within the boundaries of the law, suffering both for the victim and the perpetrator, who is already a double victim. Those days are the ones that I get back home feeling defeated and tense and questioning whether what we are doing is the right thing; putting these young men and women in jail. Then what? Those will be the days I will need a good massage from now on. I wake up from my half-asleep state with Jarmina telling me “Cerra vida” and translates “Finished.” “Muchas gracias Jarmina”. “Adios” and yes adios to you Jarmina. Guatemala has written another first to my history. Another aspect Antigua has proven to be different from the rest of Guatemala that I have seen in the last several days.

                                                  From our breakfast garden in Antigua