On the tenth of March, we rolled into San Jorge La Laguna for a two-night homestay with a local family. When we arrived into town, one of the first things we were told was that it had been requested that we not drink anything while we were in town in order to keep from influencing the local children with our evil Western ways. Fair enough, but with virtually nothing to do in this tiny town of a few thousand, that didn’t leave a whole lot of options.
Almost immediately, we were introduced to our host family and my roommate and I went to see the digs. We were met by the mother (Mercedes) of the family who greeted us and showed us to our room. We were one of the fortunate people who actually had running water throughout our stay as most homes in the area had water only on every other day. After our meeting, a few of us walked down to the lake (Lake Atitlan). It was only two or three kilometers but it was all downhill. Easy enough, but that meant that the return trip would be all uphill. There wasn’t much to see at the lake, at least the part of the lake to which the path took us, but I got plenty of exercise returning to the town on the uphill trek.
Soon after we returned to the town, it was getting close to time for dinner. Upon our return, we met Alejandro, the father of the family, and he invited us to the dining area for some coffee. My roommate and I spoke with Alejandro for about an hour. He told us about the neighboring villages around the lake and the recent civil war, which appears to have left the villages around the lake very divided. He also had several questions about the United States and Canada.
After coffee, it was time for dinner. By this time, we had met the entire family, which also included two teenaged daughters, an eight-year-old son and an infant daughter. For dinner, I was expecting some sort of traditional Guatemalan meal. Instead, we had fried chicken and french fries. For all I know, that may actually be an authentic Guatemalan meal but it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was really good, though, and came with a bunch of tortillas.
After dinner, my roommate and I walked around a little, but like I said, there’s really nothing to do in San Jorge La Laguna. We ended up going back to the room and playing some chess before going to bed.
We got up early the next day to visit a series of villages around Lake Atitlan. I don’t recall the names of all of the villages but they were all named after saints (San Marco, San Sebastian, etc.). I can’t say that they were too exciting but there were some interesting excursions. We went to a bakery that is owned by the grandmother of our tour guide and were serenaded by a group of children that are being taught music by one of our tour guide’s uncles.
The most interesting thing about the lake tour, though, was Maximón. Maximón is a mannequin (for lack of a better term) that was created by the Spanish and is treated as a god by his village. Every year he moves to a different home within the village and the locals bring him food, cigarettes, rum and various other offerings. He is supposed to eat, smoke and drink the offerings but I’m pretty sure the family that is taking care of him at any given time is helping him out a little bit. He shares a room with Jesus and Death, making it a very peculiar holy trinity.
After the tour, we ended up in Panajachel, another village along Lake Atitlan, where a friend and I stopped for a few beers before returning to the dry San Jorge. When we arrived, there was a procession going on for some saint on another who was being carried around, nailed onto a cross. After the procession, we had dinner with our family once again, this time consisting of a pasta dish with chicken (with bones), peas and peppers. Again, it was good and we called it an early night.
The next morning, we had breakfast with our family (scrambled eggs with peppers and onions) and met together early for another chicken bus expedition back to Antigua. I’ll pick up on Antigua in another post.
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