Every town in the northwestern part of Guatemala ends in "nango" and so we feel very lucky to know where we actually are... we've passed thru Chulatenango, Huehuetenango, and a place we're pretty sure was called Chimichangatenango. It's all very confusing, so we didn't get off a bus for two days because we were never really sure where exactly we were... but, then, we saw a sign saying 12 kilometers to Mexico to which Eli said, "Well that explains all the Spanish."
We are exhausted and fried and have sooooo many stories to tell about the last five days, but this internet cafe is about the worst, slowest technology we've ever experienced so you'll only be getting the cliff notes in this email.
A few days ago we decided to leave Antigua for the beach -- a beach that the Lonely Planet guide assured us was another little piece of "Paris...dice..." So, thirteen bus rides, a few up-chucks out the window, and some very questionable cab rides later, we rolled into a town called Tilapa (a.k.a. Hell on earth) during what was certainly the biggest rain storm on record since the time of Noah. The beach town we intended to get to was only accessible by boat, we were told, so our only option for shelter was the one hotel that doubled as the town prison. It was WAY overpriced at $6 per night. The mattresses were made out of straw, the toilet had no seat and was in the middle of the room, and the shower was a bucket of water with cockroaches swimming in it. Additionally, an array of insects and animals you only see on the Discovery Channel ran across the dirty concrete floor, walls and ceiling all night long. When the power went out, we were kind of relieved, and terrified (relieved that we couldn't see the room anymore, and terrified that chupacabra had come through the open window -- cuz there was no screen or bars or anything -- and that one of us would be missing once the lights came back on). So, we lay in bed wide awake all night, moaning for the heat, laying on top of the one sheet they gave us for a blanket, scared to death of bed bugs, and we put on every piece of clothing we had so our skin wouldn't have to touch anything. There was a pig that kept visiting our rooms. Megan got bit by a cat. Uncle Will got up no less than 50 times during the night to investigate gunshot sounds and blood-curdling screams, while Megan was on his back like a piggyback ride because she was so freaked out. Eli took three hours to build up the courage to use the toilet and he only had to go number one and he kept saying aloud "I've done worse things...I've done worse things...i've done worse things..." Because the rooms were so small and the toilet in the middle, Krishelle just sat there and covered her eyes. We have all grown much, much closer over the last few days.
So, the second the sun arose, we had our backpacks on and were walking down the road to nowhere in particular. We accepted a ride on an outboard motorboat through croc-infested waters to get to the one hotel on the beach that the Lonely Planet Guide promised was "nice." We have several bones to pick with the Guatemala Lonely Planet Guide. So, we felt as if we had just left a prison but, when we got to our new hotel, it was as if we had just been transferred to a Maximum Security Prison, in a third-world country, something you'd see in an episode of Locked Up Abroad on the National Geographic Channel. The people were nice, so we decided to give it a whirl, plus, it was $4 a night, and we had a beach view! We immediately put on our swimming suits and walked to the beach and tried to find a place to spread out our towels in between all the driftwood. this beach appeared to have never been visited in the last two decades, so that seemed promising. except that the foam in the waves was brown and not white. During beach time, the following wonderful things occurred:
1. Uncle Will, a fairly seasoned bodysurfer, face-planted it quite forcefully into the bottom of the ocean and now wears a beautiful scab above his left eyebrow.
2. Eli lost his bathing suit in the waves - the Lonely Planet Guide did warn against the unpredictably strong rip tides and no lifeguards within 100s of miles.
3. Megan and Eli did an interpretive dance of the entire vacation (we have this on film for those interested in seeing it later - they will charge you $5 a viewing, and it's worth it)
4. Megan developed strong bonds with several stray dogs, one which we are positive had a severe case of pink-eye (this less than 24 hours after she was convinced she had rabies from the stray cat that bit her hard enough on the hand to draw blood)
5. Krishelle worked so well on her tan that her back looks like it's at stage three of the beef jerky-making process
6. The currents were so strong that we were all tossed and turned against our will so many times that we are now afraid of the ocean
After our day on the beach we went back to the hotel/cinder-block prison and were served fish for dinner, with the heads, eyes, gills, fins (the whole shabbang) still intact. The site so gruesome that we almost opted for starvation; however, we were so hungry that we ate every bit of those fish. We spent the remainder of the day lathering in aloevera, calamine, Neosporin, and downing any form of pain killer we could bum from strangers, and avoiding stray dogs and pigs (except for Megan, who wanted to adopt one or two or three). Then, nighttime came and we were really happy because we thought it might cool off a bit. Wrong. We think it got hotter. Megan kept Krishelle up the entire night flipping the light on and off convinced that there were bats flying around in their room, and lizards in her bed. Krishelle just moaned and humored Megan, because she had experienced this same thing a few years ago when Bridgette (Megan's older sister) put her through the same thing night after night on a similar trip through southern Mexico.
We had initially planned to stay in this beach town for the remainder of our trip to work on our tans, But, we lasted 24 hours and decided to high-tail it out of there and never go back! Ever! And, to never, ever, ever recommend it to anyone. It was perhaps the biggest hole we've ever visited. Walking out of there was so hot that if your foot slipped a quarter inch off your sandal and touched the sand, you were immediately convinced that the burning fires of hell were one inch beneath the sand. The locals weren't even walking around during the day it was so hot. And, by locals, we mean, all four of them who lived in this town. Enough said about that place - it was called Tilapita. Don't go there. Ever.
So, we decided to head back into the hills, which is why we are now in Quezaltenango. It's a beautiful mountain town of about 140,000 people. We spent the first five hours here wandering from farmacia to farmacia to find the right concoction of pain killers and anti-anxiety drugs to permanently kill the part of the brain that contains memories. we never want to think about Tilapita again. We then had a meal that would have seemed sub-standard on any other day, but after eating in Tilapita, this meal seemed like a feast for royalty! Of course, two hours later, Megan barfed it all up, in addition to everything else she's eaten since she was 13. If you can believe it, Megan was the one on this trip who got dehydrated first. And, this is why - On the way to Tilapita, she almost wet her pants on the bus, so on the way back, without telling us, she opted not to drink anything at all for about a day. Eli took the opposite approach, terrified that he would dehydrate (like he did on our trip to Egypt where he passed out on the plane and nearly caused us to divert to Madrid), and he drank everything in sight. After a few hours on the bus, he leaned forward, on the verge of tears, and begged Uncle Will to plead with the bus driver to stop so he could get off and pee. The bus driver just mumbled and kept driving for about another hour, until there was a traffic jam on a mountain pass and then Eli sprang out of the bus and pee'd on the tire, along with another passenger - We are all so shameless and immodest by this point of our trip. Well, Eli pretty much has been quite an exhibitionist since he lost his swimming suit in the ocean and has been walking around in his underwear ever since. Megan still wasn't saying a word about having to pee, which was unusual and we should have picked up on that, but we were all so focused on keeping Eli from peeing inside the bus, which he was actually considering.
So, we finally arrive to Quetzaltenango and get a taxi and told the driver to take us directly to the nicest hotel in town which he immediately pulled up to the first Hostel full of stinky backpackers to which we all, in unison, screamed "NO!" from the backseat and he drove on, as he told us that he had been an illegal alien cutting lawns in Beverly Hills for six years and that he crossed the border near Nogales using one of those "human traffickers" that we hear about on the news. It was all very enlightening, but we didn't care because he was our ticket to a nice hotel, we hoped.
So, we finally get to the Hotel Bonafiz, which, according to our Lonely Planet Guide is actually the nicest hotel in town and it's probably true and it costs about $80 a night and is worth every penny, except for the constant noise that begins at about 3 a.m. every day as they are trying to get the swimming pool repaired.
After we checked in, we went to dinner and ate like pigs and it was so good (as mentioned above). Then, we walked back to the hotel and all sank down into our beds and then looked at Megan who suddenly looked like the living dead and said she was just really tired. Then, the uncontrollable shaking began, which Eli immediately recognized as the tell-tale signs of severe dehydration (which he has experienced in every country of the world he has traveled to). We force-fed Megan about 78 gallons of Gatorade and water until the puking began, at which point we started all over with the force-feeding of liquids. Rest assured, the next morning, Megan was back to normal and has already taken a walking tour of the city with Uncle Will, looking for gallons of aloe vera to fill baths for Krishelle and Eli who are looking more and more like beef jerky with every passing moment.
No worries, seriously. Everyone is fine. We are sooooooo tan, but fear it may all be left behind in one big pile of flakes when we leave on Saturday. We are having a BLAST! We are laughing our heads off at every turn, except for when the Evangelical preacher got on the bus yesterday, during Eli's near pee-his-pants experience, and yelled at us about heaven and hell for two hours and then wanted some money (we didn't contribute to this guy because he was just annoying), and then he blessed everyone on the bus, individually, by laying his hands on each person and saying "Bless you." except for when he got to Krishelle he laid his hands on her and said, "Bless the woman." She got a special one. Everything is just a little strange down here.
Everything is so beautiful and green, green, green. And, honestly, the people are perhaps the nicest we've ever met, with the exception, perhaps, of the people of Belize. There seems to be a direct correlation between poverty, humility, and niceness in the people down here. For as many warnings as the Lonely Planet Guide gives us to be careful and safe, we are experiencing the exact opposite. We love these people!!! Granted, we do not love their infrastructure (or lack of it).
We're heading back to Antigua today for a couple of days of final souvenir shopping and stuff, Can never believe how fast these little adventures go by!
Love you all. Krishelle, Eli, Megan, and Uncle Will
