Xela

San Simon and the Hot Springs

So I might actually get around to writing about Guatemala, one subject at a time... eventually. Tonight's topic is San Simon and our visit to Las Fuentes Georginas hot springs (in case you couldn't tell by the title of this blog). This excursion took place on Wednesday, May 26th. This was the day after many of the students got sick, so there were only about 7 or 8 of us that went to the springs. Although the springs no doubt do wonders for joint pain and stressed muscles...dehydration and upset stomachs would likely be worsened by the heat.

On our way from Xela to the hot springs, we drove through a city called Zunil. Maneuvering our van through the cobblestone streets that were very clearly not made for cars was exciting and I was very glad that we had a driver that knew what he was doing. There wasn't a whole lot about this place that would distinguish it from Xela, except for a particularly interesting resident...San Simon. Chris and Alyssa, our guides from the Asturias Academy, briefly told us about this local saint and sparked our interest. San Simon (also known as Maximon) is a combination of a Mayan deity (of sexuality), a Catholic priest, a Spanish Conquistador, and Judas Iscariot...yeah, interesting guy. His effigy currently lives in a house in Zunil where his Brotherhood takes care of him. I say 'lives' because he has his own room where he 'sleeps' for 8 hours a night, he's given cigarettes (which he actually smokes using some kind of respirator inside his mannequin body) and is generally treated like a human being. When Chris pointed out the house where San Simon was, our curiosity was sparked and we asked if we could see him. Our insanely talented driver found a place to park and we quickly piled out of the van in the pouring rain (little did we know, this was the beginnings of Tropical Storm Agatha). Dodging puddles and trying not to get hit by cars, we unceremoniously ran through the open doors of the house of San Simon.

When our eyes adjusted to the candle-lit darkness, we saw men seated at tables, some playing cards, others analyzing crystals, almost all of them smoking cigars or cigarettes. Chris lead us to the back of the open room where we saw three men gathered around the figure of San Simon. They seemed to be talking to him and performing some kind of ceremony. A fourth man stood in the corner and would occasionally approach Simon to ash the lit cigarette in his mouth. In front of Simon, there were dozens of lit candles, different colors representing different wishes. In the corner, near the candles there was a crucifix and little statues of Mary, the only thing about this place that felt remotely Catholic, it almost felt like a joke.

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We were already starting to feel the hairs on the back of our necks rise up but when Chris told us about the Grim Reaper figure that was upstairs we started to wonder if a group of American tourists really belonged there. But of course we were curious so we walked up the narrow cement stairway, single-file and peered through the door to sneak a peek. Looking back on it...I can say that we *really* didn't belong there... in the brief time between me walking through the door and promptly getting out of there I saw the terrifying figure of death in the corner, a woman with wild hair whispering to it and men passing around the biggest cigar I had ever seen. The room was an open air balcony with a tin roof to protect people from the elements, along the edge there was a counter with so many candles grouped together that it was really just a pillar of fire. I'm not a particularly religious or superstitious person but I felt very uncomfortable in this place. I made my way back down the stairs to take another look at San Simon and watched as the three men brought a live chicken into the space in front of Simon. Although we didn't stay much longer, I didn't have to stay to know that the chicken was going to be sacrificed. Chris gave the Brotherhood the customary offering of 5Q per person and some of us quickly took some pictures before leaving and attempting to shake the uncomfortable feeling.

We returned to the van and went over what it was that we had just ignorantly walked into, some more shaken than others. Our driver continues to work his way through the treacherous hills of the city and eventually we got to the mountainous country where we saw a great deal of farmland, crops looking like patchwork quilts laid out across the hills. The soil of this land is very fertile because of the volcanos in the area so there were many different kinds of crops planted with special attention given to placement and planting cycles.

Eventually we made it to Las Fuentes Georginas hot springs, tucked away in the mountains of Guatemala. We were surrounded by huge trees with leaves that reminded me of the tree stars in Land Before Time. Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of this trip because I was too busy admiring it and I didn't want to get my camera wet in the springs. Megan took a couple of pictures though and the website has some good pictures, so hopefully that will do. We changed into our swimsuits and made our way to the pool closest to the source, therefore the hottest. Since we were so high up in the mountains, we found ourselves walking through the misty clouds. We spent over an hour soaking in the springs. The floor of the pools were rocky and shallow, never getting deeper than waist level, except closest to the source (which was about chest deep). After about twenty minutes I had to find a rock to sit on because my body temperature was starting to get a little too hot for my comfort.

I wish I had actually taken pictures of this place, it was beautiful beyond words and I never want to forget the lush forest in the mountains. Unfortunately we were some of the last people to visit the springs before Tropical Storm Agatha destroyed them. I'm not sure of the extent of the damage, but while we were stranded in Xela over the weekend we overheard the bartender at Bamboo talking about Las Fuentes Georginas specifically and saying that they had been destroyed.

Thanks for reading! I'll try and get to more posts soon. I can already feel the experience fading into memory as I fully adjust to life back home.

The Disaster Saga, Part 2: The Journey

In the last post, we left our heros and heroines outside Black Cat Hostel in downtown Quetzaltenango (aka Xela) waiting for their van to pick them up and whisk them away to their far away homes. (no pictures for this part of the story I'm afraid. I'm also sorry because I lied when I said this part was shorter...) Sometime around 6pm, a large van drove up the cobblestone street and we began loading our luggage and various packs on top of the van. One by one we piled into the van that probably comfortably seated 14, there were 16 of us including the driver and his friend. It was...cozy...to say the least. It should be noted that most of us hadn't really showered much in a few days so that added to the closeness. Guatemala does not observe daylight savings so 6pm was looking more like 7pm and we were loosing light quickly.

Leaving Xela took longer than we would have liked because of all of the twisting roads and evening traffic. Overall the start of the journey was chill, we tried to get some sleep in the van since there was nothing else to do. We were all very startled when we heard something fall from the top of the van, a few somethings actually. Not only did some of the luggage get damaged when it fell from the van (thank goodness for the duct tape I brought!), but we had to sit on the side of a dark road for what felt like forever while they re-secured everything. I've seen waaaay too many scary movies for this to be kosher. Of course nothing happened, my imagination is too vivid for my own good and we were on our way again.

After about 6 hours of off and on sleepingand watching people walk about their villages late at night as we passed, we arrived at the Guatemala-Mexico boarder. Tired, sick and a very uncertain of what we were supposed to do, we got out of the van and got in line to show border control our passports. Men offering to exchange our Quetzales for Pesos crowded in and ignored us when we said "No, Gracias". Other men hovered around our van at a distance. Nothing about this situation was fun, all of my family's words of warning about this trip came flooding back to me and I just wanted to teleport home. Thinking we were done after we got stamped out of Guatemala, we quickly hopped back in the van....only to stop a 30 seconds later at the Mexican side of the border to get stamped in.

This time we all had to get out and walk into a building where many of us were hoping to find a restroom of some kind after so many hours in a van. It's hard for me to describe the state of the women's bathroom... to say that it was dirty doesn't cover it. I would go so far as to say that it qualified as sexual harassment. Broken toilets, no running water, no TP, doors that didn't lock and unmentionable filth everywhere. I call this sexual harassment because the men's room looked perfectly fine and operable when I walked past the open door. I could be wrong, I was very tired and sick, but either way I was seriously irritated by this.

On this side of the border, we had to fill out forms saying who we were, where we were from and other pretty standard stuff. What didn't feel standard was when they told us we had to pay $25 US (or $261 Pesos). I don't think I've ever had to do that before and none of us were very prepared for that. (when we got our passports stamped out of Guatemala we had to pay 10Q or just over $1US, *nothing* in comparison!) All of our readily available money was in Quetzales and they didn't take Visa at the border. Some people, including myself, had kept some American money in case of an emergency so we went back out to the van to dig into our bags. The other fishy catch about this extra expenditure was that they didn't give change. So we had to group together in whatever ways we could to ensure that our money did the most good. We got our passports stamped in groups of four and handed over the last of our cash.

The next phase was to go through customs so we got our bags off the top of the van, trying not to look nervous while more people took note of us. A man in a red t-shirt started to "make himself useful" by trying to grab our bags from the driver as he lowered them down to us. I made sure to grab my things quickly as I saw them and told him thanks but no thanks. Taking my suitcase, backpack and handbag to the customs side of the building, I pushed the magical button that decided if a passed or failed and saw the bright green light pierce the misty darkness. They barely looked at my bag and didn't even ask me what I had. Of our group of 14, at least 2 of us failed the random button-O-customs.

The first group to get through customs waited in the van and kept an eye on belongings as they were placed back on the roof. Vicky listened as our driver and one of the border guards argued in Spanish. When the guard walked away, she told us that he was demanding 100Q (about $12 US) because of "all the weak women in our group that needed help loading their luggage back onto the van". I witnessed all 9 of those "weak" women hoist their bags up over their heads to the driver myself...the guard didn't do squat. Unfortunately, this man could slow us down if not stop us entirely if we didn't give him the money. Since our trip was at its end, most of us didn't have large Qs anymore. But Hanna found a 100Q bill and gave it to the driver to get us on our way.

After another half hour, we got to the gates of the Tapachula airport...the closed gates... It was nearly 1am and the driver told us the airport wouldn't open until at least 5am. The gate guard made a few calls for us though and let us in to the parking lot where we could unload the van and wait in the lobby. The lobby was covered with huge twitching wasp like bugs, some that were still crawling, others that had been squished in the comings and goings of airport life. Grateful for the opportunity to wash our hands and clean up a bit, we dodged the little buggy landmines to get to the lobby bathrooms.

With 4 hours before the airport would officially open for us, we set up a mini-shanty town on the far side of the lobby where the bugs were fewer and the wall plugs could be found to charge our fading phones. Some of our souvenirs proved to be useful as hand woven rugs were used as beds on the cold tile. It was at this time that Bern decided to start throwing the mangled bug bodies at the unsuspecting and shrieking residents of GuatGang-Shantytown. The Bug Wars lasted only a few minutes and everyone calmed down a bit. After the stressful border crossing, I was able to get a few hours of sleep.

When I woke up it was about 4:30am and I saw that we had been joined by more people for the morning flights. After getting through security we got in line to check in and get our tickets for our flight to Mexico City. But San Simon's curse (more on that later) was not done with us yet! One of the groups going to Minneapolis (my group to be exact) was told that our tickets had been canceled when the online ticket company tried and failed to get ahold of us to verify the credit card information. All of the other groups were okay, but now Megan was scrambling to make sure we could still catch the 6:40am flight to Mexico city with everyone else. The man at the check in desk was extremely helpful, getting Megan a phone and wifi access, not pushing us aside at all.

Once inside the airport, we feasted on cup-o-noodles and bottled water for breakfast while megan continued to book the rest of our flights home and update the blog. The flight out of Tapachula was very comfortable (especially for Bern and Charles who somehow managed to get first class) and we arrived around 9am.

Besides some tearful goodbyes as the group split off for their respective flights and a delayed flight that would have caused Charles and Bern to miss their flight in NC therefore getting them a free night at the airport hotel and an upgrade to first class (once again!!! those lucky dogs!), the rest of the journey home was uneventful. The Guat Gang Girls in my group (Megan, Hanna, Courtney, Kate, Amy and myself) reminisced about the trip over lunch at Chili's Too in Charlotte, NC.

After landing in Minneapolis we were met with warm hugs and tears of joy at the baggage claim. My aunt picked me up outside and met me with fresh, homemade, chocolate chip cookies and a large, cold glass of milk. The only thing that could top it was the welcome I received from our dog Jett as he danced around my feet when I walked in the door and the warm, fuzzy kitty cuddles I got that night in my own bed. After 12 hours of solid sleep, I woke up very glad to be home safe and sound.

Now that the scary part of the trip is out of the way...I can talk about all the fantastic things we did in Guatemala! Stay tuned for The Miguel Angel Asturias Academy, Jorge's Story, The Mural, Traditional Mayan Weaving Techniques, the Lake Atitlan Excursion, San Simon and the Hot Springs and a photo gallery of the best pictures taken on the trip.