GUATEMALA – Land of Eternal Spring…and Volcanoes – Part II

(PART TWO OF THREE PARTS / For part one click HERE)

FOLLOWING MY NOSE
After each weekday morning session at school, I walk back toward the center of town, thinking along the way about a point of interest I might set as my destination that afternoon.

One day I just happen upon the bustling fresh produce market, a ramshackle assortment of impermanent stalls peddling photogenic piles of fruits and vegetables. Some have umbrellas or tarps to keep the drizzle off. A few have tables, but most just lay out their goods on the ground in plastic bowls and bins.

Another day, I head up to Cerro Santa Cruz, a scenic overlook with wonderful views of the city with Volcan El Agua looming in the background. When I get there with Amanda, the volcano still hasn’t shed its hat of clouds, but we wait an hour or so, and finally we can see the whole classic, conical shape, right up to its dimpled crest.

    "Funny, it doesn't look very active to me,"
    she says. At that very instant, it erupts.

On our way down, Amanda catches a glimpse of what she thinks might be the other of Antigua's best known volcanoes, El Fuego, The Fire, which we've heard is active. "Funny, it doesn't look very active to me," she says. At that very instant, right when we're looking at it, it erupts. 

There's just the one thick, black plume, and soon it dissipates. I guess these brief emissions, maybe a couple every hour, are why El Fuego is not considered dangerous. Instead of building up true explosive power, it lets off steam gradually, in these "burps."

I easily take in the best-known photo ops around the city: the Santa Catalina Arch, La Iglesia de la Merced, the Colonial Art Museum, several colonial-era ruins, and of course Plaza Mayor, where a convivial blend of locals and visitors enjoy themselves and their loved ones, and vendors of everything under the sun deliver their best—often quite persistent—pitches.

(Throwing off my navigation for the first few days is the fact that the park, this obvious hub of city life, is not the nucleus of its street numbering system. “Central” Park lies at the intersection, not of First Avenue and First Street, but Fifth and Fifth.)

  Before we know it, we’re inside, tequila shots
  in hand, feeling like part of the family.

HAPPY HAPPENSTANCE
Wherever I travel I often stumble upon some of my most interesting and memorable experiences when I have absolutely no destination in mind, simply walking in any given direction until something catches my eye, ear or nose. In La Antigua these gems include off-the-beaten-path art workshops and studios; Santa Ana, a neighborhood sprinkled with very nice, high-end boutique hotels; serene inner courtyards; some nice restaurants; birthday parties, weddings and quinceañeras.

   

Another of my tricks for witnessing real life and connecting with the locals is to simply sit in one place and wait for the opportunities to come to me. Several vendors in Plaza Mayor, realizing after a few minutes of hard sell that I’m really not going to buy anything, strike up conversations with me, and soon we’re on a first-name basis.

By the way, I ask them and other Guatemalans—shop owners, tuk-tuk drivers, my teacher—what they think about the political situation. None of them can stand the current president. They support the protests, but say they’re resigned to living under a corrupt, oppressive government. I realize how lucky we are in the U.S. to still have—however tenuously—the apparatus to maintain free and fair elections.
 
THE INNER SANCTUM

One evening, as Amanda and I explore some back street, we happen past the open door to a tiny pub—by tiny I mean about the size of smallish bedroom. Inside, a group of locals—five or six men and one woman, all in their 30s—huddle around the bar, boisterously gabbing and laughing. They’ve obviously had a few.

One guy spots us in the doorway and cheerfully waves us in. Amanda, God bless her, is always up for an adventure. Before we know it, we’re inside, tequila shots in hand, feeling like part of the family. It’s one of those situations where it feels like my Spanish opens some doors. Everyone wants to know where we’re from, how we’re liking their country…and how I learned their language.

     The many dining options around town
     make the place feel more cosmopolitan
     than I’d expected.

MORE THAN RICE AND BEANS
My Guatemala dining experience spans many cuisines. My first night, too tired to be searching for a good dinner, I settle for the nearby Pollo Campero, Guatemala’s version of KFC. But, with big, tender, juicy pieces wrapped in a delicious, crispy, non-greasy coating, it turns out to be some of the best fried chicken I’ve ever had.

Other days I seek out restaurants touting comida típica—typical food. There I find those good old Central American staples, rice, beans, a few tidbits of meat and perhaps a few spears of grilled plantain. Unlike some of the neighboring countries, though, I find potatoes in or around many dishes (a blessing to one who--blasphemy alert--doesn't care for tortillas).

I also discover pepian, one of the oldest dishes in Guatemalan food heritage, borne out of the fusion of Spanish and Mayan cultures. It’s a savory soup/stew whose rich, complex broth reminds me a bit of Mexican moles. (I don’t know if there’s an etiquette for eating pepian, but the chunks of beef or chicken, carrot, squash and potato are so big I have to move them to the plate to cut them up.)

I find a nice paella at one restaurant, some Mexican-style chilaquiles at another, and a wonderful Japanese meal at a third. Still more dining options around town make the place feel more cosmopolitan than I’d expected.

On the other hand, the presence of many American fast food chains is a disappointment: Domino’s, Wendy’s, Subway, Starbuck’s…and, yes, McDonald’s. I have to avert my eyes to sustain the reality that I’m in another country nearly 3,000 miles away from home.

One of my favorite dinner places—and Amanda’s too—ends up being Hector’s Bistro, whose varied, international menu, superb food quality, excellent service and beautiful courtyard setting earn four visits.

I can’t talk about food without mentioning the sixth basic food group: coffee. Both Amanda and I note that most of the brewed java we’re served is nothing to rave about. I am, however, able to wrangle pretty decent lattes from a couple of shops. (I wonder if Guatemala, like Costa Rica, saves its best grades of coffee for export, leaving citizens with something less.)

(FOR PART III CLICK HERE)

(FOR SLIDE SHOW CLICK HERE)