6 am
San Pedro is waking up. Roosters are calling to each other from across town, the first tuk tuks tucker through the streets, morning birds are starting to chirp. The sun, not visible yet in the valley, must have risen, and I can see the 'Indian Nose', a series of hills resembling a Maya face across the lake, outlined clearly against the brightening sky.
It seems to be too early for the morning choir concert, and no fireworks have gone off yet either. These have accompanied us ever since we came to Guatemala. I talked to Mario, our English speaking host at the Casa Luna hotel in Antigua, about this, and he explained that November and December are 'festival months' in Guatemala. From All-Saints Day to days to honour the Virgin Mary, people find reason to celebrate almost every day, and fireworks are a big part of it. We have heard them go off in the pre-dawn mist at Flores, at breakfast, lunch and dinnertime, and anytime in between, and when we were sitting at “Nick's Place” by the dock yesterday evening after supper for our daily card game they joined the lights from all the little communities around the lake reflected in the water. I've seen them sold at little stands in the streets – no firework licence required in this country!
Yesterday at this time we were on our way to climb San Pedro volcano, one of several volcanoes around Lake Atitlan. We had made arrangements for a guide with the Bigfoot Travel Agency a few metres down the street from our hotel, and at six a few determined hikers, rubbing sleep from their eyes, had gathered in front of the office to wait for their guide.
Right on time two Maya guides appeared. Juan would walk with our group, consisting of Johann, Kurt, Gerda and me, while the three German girls waiting with us would hike with the other. Taking a guide is highly recommended, since, though not common, robberies have occurred in the more remote areas around the lake. Machete handles were sticking out of the backpacks of both our guides. Was this reason to feel more scared because it suggested the possibility of an encounter, or less scared because we knew we'd be protected? For me, it was neither: machetes are so commonly carried here as tools that I had a hard time thinking of it as a weapon Juan would use to defend us against robbers.
A van took us to the park gate from where we would start our hike. The day before we had hiked up to the gate along the road in the midday sun, and today were happy to save our energy for the main part of the walk: in San Pedro, you walk either up the hill or down the hill: everything is steep, unless you are skirting the hill.
Before we started out I looked once again at the "invocation to the volcano" written on a wooden sign beside the beginning of the path:
Antes de empezar la caminata detente ... para hacer una oracion
Oh corazón del cielo
corazón de la madre tierra
corazón del lago
corazón del fuego
junto a los 4 vientos
que respiramos
que son corazón
de nuestra vida
¡oh volcan de las alturas
templo sagrado de los
eternos mayas tzutujiles
permite nos entrar
bajo tu pies
protegenos, guianos
y guárdanos
durante esta caminata
para que al final
del camino
estemos tranquilos
y en paz.
In my – not very competent – translation:
Before starting out on this path, stop to recite a prayer
“Oh heart of the sky,
heart of our Mother Earth,
heart of the lake,
heart of the fire,
together with the four winds
we breathe in,
which are the heart
of our life.
Oh volcano of the heights,
sacred temple
or the eternal Maya Tzutujils,
allow us to enter
at your feet.
Protect us, guide us,
and guard us
on this path
until, at the end of our way,
we feel calm
and at peace.
It puts me into the right state of mind to read this: the awe that I feel whenever I enter a place of natural beauty, and the knowledge that this is not to be taken for granted.
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| Marigolds on the side of the road |
7 am, Thursday
Right now, however, the Indian Nose is basked in bright sunlight, and I will have to leave this until later: we'll be off to another adventure, the market in Chichicastenango, shortly.
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