Searching the Pyramids in Lago Atitlan, Guatemala
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The journey from the international backpackers hangout (and, increasingly, luxury destination as well) of Antigua to the villages of Lago Atitlan requires bus and boat transport. The hardcore budget traveler knows they can get to Panachel (or just "Pana" to those in the know) via Guatemala's famous "chicken busses" for about $2. So named because of their occasional cargo sitting on the laps of Mayan women heading to market. But really rescued North American school busses, retired by their school districts as too unreliable. But their Guatemalan owners take great care of them: painting and adorning them with slogans (sexist and religious themes dominate: Jesus is my savor beats out the Playboy logo by a nose) and murals. Often one can still find evidence of their past lives: a worn plaque from a Catholic school district in Quebec stood out. Their owners seem less talented with fixing their exhaust systems which belch black smoke everywhere in Guatemala. They take such pride in them though because despite their always very cheap fares, the number of people who can be jammed on one bus in mind-numbing. Imagine 5 people and the aforementioned chicken in a seat designed for 2 children. Meanwhile the aisle was so jammed with bodies and luggage that it actually took one small woman on the order of 10 minutes just to squeeze past me on her way to the exit.
The chicken bus is, of course, an experience not to be missed in any Guatemalan adventure. But you might be wiser trying it on a 20 minute journey. So we elected the "deluxe" 3 hour direct bus to Pana–deluxe of course being a relative term for the relatively extravagant fare of $5. The last part of the journey, as the bus winds its way painstakingly down a narrow switchbacking highway to the lake is both breathtaking and stomach churning. But then you have the prospect of a brisk boat ride on the lake to your destination village to liven you up again.
Panachel. A destination in itself but really better viewed as a pit stop. I guess it's changed a little since my last visit there. My family and I spent a month in Guatemala when I was 7. My mother swears it was in Pana. But I have no memory of a lake. I do remember the strawberries in the market. But even at 7 who could block out the memory of such a magnificent sight of this very large lake ringed by volcanoes (some active and steaming regularly) with clear waters and a succession of charming villages lakeside? I hear they did clean up the lake at some point in the past, I had no issues swimming in it now, but perhaps in the 70s it wasn't so welcoming.
Our plan was to spend New Year's at the Vulcano Lodge (No Google, I did not mean "Volcano Lodge" thank you, I can only assume the errant "u" is there in Norwegian or something). The Vulcano Lodge being owned by a Norwegian family…of course. Apparently there's quite a smattering of Norwegians around the lake. What my charming Norwegian friend Silje did not tell me (ok, I think she didn't know exactly) was that the entire Vulcano Lodge had been rented by an extended family group of Norwegians who knew the owners and had flown in from Norway to celebrate the 50th birthday of one of them. 18 Norwegians and me. Apparently there was one room left over which they offered to Silje (and me) who isn't related but fits right in to any crowd.
The Vulcano Lodge is in the teeny tiny community of Jaibalito which is reached only by boat, has no roads and consists of two hotels, 4 luxury houses on the beach, one shack at the dock where one could buy Chiclets if you could rouse the sleeping owner and a collection of small mud brick houses for the 15 or so families who lived there year round. After the boat dropped us at our dock we followed the yellow arrows painted on the rocks up the hill to the lodge. It's 8 or so rooms on the hillside set among tropical fruit trees looking down at the lake and the volcanoes. And Norwegian cuisine served family style for breakfast and dinner. Meals are not per se required for guests but then there's no transportation out of Jaibalito after dark and no restaurants so what are you going to do? Good thing they're great cooks.
I can't play Norwegian trivial pursuit particularly well (who was that 1968 Olympic biathlon champion anyway?) so while we were there I set out on journeys to nearby villages during the day. The nearest village is Santa Cruz La Laguna, about an hours walk or 5 minute boat ride away (just flag one down at the dock). I arrived dusty and hot to the refuge of the Iguana Perdida (Forgotten Iguana). No Norwegians here. Same backpackers, literally in some cases, who I found in Antigua. Great place to stop for lunch, share some traveler's tales and nap in a 
hammock. After that nap, there's a little village to explore. Santa Cruz isn't much bigger than Jaibalito but it does have a village: a square, a school, a soccer field and a few small stores. Posters announced an upcoming fundraising event for the school being put on by a few local ex-pat gringos. Apparently Santa Cruz and the other small villages of Lago Atitlan were also among the poorest and with the highest illiteracy rates in Guatemala.
The next day I walked the opposite direction, 2 hours to San Marcos La Laguna. San Marcos is a bit bigger and there are roads and cars there. But it still retains its village atmosphere and much of the town is serviced only by foot paths. Ah, but a plethora of goods and services await here: fresh fruit and vegetables, internet, aloe vera smoothies, massage, reiki, crystal healing, yoga…getting the picture? And so we come to Las Pir·mides. The Pyramids is actually a retreat centre which offers month long mediation retreats and where all the buildings are pyramids. It was there I had come to search. Not for the truth, but for a friend.
The traveler's world can indeed be small. Back in October, in Spain, I was in a TEFL class (learning to teach English thank you very much, not learning to speak it) with a handful of Brits, a few Canadians and a few Americans. We were a mix of somewhat older seasoned travelers who where questioning what to do with the rest of their lives and some younger eager fresh faces who believed teaching English would be a wonderful career. Two of the Brits, Mandy and Yvonne,
belonged to the former group like me. I actually had the most firm plans of the three of us: an onward one-way ticket to Guatemala. That was as far as I had thought ahead but it sounded good to them and so they both decided to follow me a number of weeks later.
Through the traveler's grapevine, I had heard that Yvonne had been sighted at The Pyramids. I was walking into San Marcos, wondering how I would locate her should this be the week where The Pyramids participants practiced complete silence, when I saw a boat dock and who should appear but Mandy. And so we joined forces, located The Pyramids and the particular pyramid in which Yvonne was lodging and had a reunion. We said goodbye to 2003 over the aforementioned aloe vera smoothies. Back on the last boat before sunset to Jaibalito, I toasted the New Year in with the Norwegians where I was forced to drink paint thinner (I think they call it "Aquavit" and claim to like it) and eat pickled herring. Apparently this was flown in at great expense just to challenge my stomach. Ah, memories.
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Posted by Doug Dosdall on September 3rd, 2003 in Articles.
