DWELLING IN THE CLOUDS. FOR REAL!

View of misty valley, mountaintop, Chimaltenango

On weekends we join friends at pubs or restaurants, especially those with entertainment. So, did that on Friday. Went to a pub which recently opened in a very old house in the historic center--the kind with no sign where you have to knock on the door--for a great spoken word performance by a locally famous poet and actor. Way cool.

Saturday, however, we did something wholesome: We went with our friends Ana and Jaime to their retreat in the mountains. Their property actually is the whole mountain top, over 3,500 feet above sea level. Very steep climb, too. Hiking it is grueling.

Okay Trudy, just tell it like it is. I admit we went way up there in a sturdy all-terrain vehicle. Not much hiking involved, except traipsing through the forests.

On a clear day, you can actually sea the faraway valleys and volcanoes. We did see a volcano when the mist cleared for a moment and it looked right up close, even though it is hundreds of miles away. It felt as if you could stretch your arm and almost touch it. Strange--but as with most illusions, lovely.

Me with fog background (trying to get my flash to work!)

I know, I know, I look like some sort of gnome. It goes with the spirit of the place. All of this fog, and it was noon already! A fog which acts as if it were a living being. Thick yet invigorating. You can really see it swirling around you as if it were alive! I swear it's true.

Horse grazing close to precipice

The air is bracing, as if inhaling menthol. The ground, all covered in vegetation, feels spongy. It's carpeted in low fluffy bushes, moss and grass. The soil is very fertile. The whole mountain is covered in forest and fruit trees. Our friends are planting a peach orchard all around the mountain skirts just so that it looks pretty when the trees flourish and sprout fruit. They're bringing in goats too, for goat cheese. How cool is that?

View of Mayan village in the valley

Below, in the valley, when the mist would cleared for a while, one could see some of the Mayan villages. Some have very quirky names, such as Calderas (Cauldrons). Did they use to make cauldrons, way back when?

Some of these villages are very old and all are isolated. They don't have a paved road to get there. They have electricity but don't have, for example, running water. Stoves are wood-based. However, the villagers have organized themselves to have access to water one day a week and on that day, they all go to the water source---there is a pump, pilas for hand-washing clothes, etc.--to do their wash and gather water.

On that day, those households that have piping fill out all their water recipients for the week at home. But going to wash clothes at the washing facilities seems to be a communal thing.

Interestingly, villagers who have worked (as undocumented migrants) several years in the US, have cinder block houses with indoor bathrooms and toilets. On the other hand, those who haven't migrated (yet?) live in flimsy earthen-floored shacks with no indoor plumbing. Most bathroom facilities of non-migrant campesinos, if any, are holes on the ground with some sort of fragile cover. Most houses, however, have outdoor kitchens, even when prosperous.

Above is a young Mayan family gathering wood for cooking and heat. The cute small kid on the left was playing peek-a-boo with me while the mother turned her face away because she was camera-shy. I did ask permission to take their picture though! They were very friendly.

Perhaps you remember that some time ago, there was a huge deportation case in Iowa. It was all over the papers and newscasts in the USA. Around 300 to 400 Mayans were caught in a raid at a meatpacking plant and deported back to Guatemala. Well, turns out most of them were from the villages in this area. They all have been there or have, at least, a relative among those deported.

It is truly interesting how throughout history migration is always like that. A great many people from the same towns and villages move from one country and relocate in the same town in another country.

View from mountain top, Chimaltenango

The picture above is from a clearing in the forest looking at the valley below. It looked to me like the illustration of the classical Grimm and Andersen Bros. storybooks I read as a child.

Some of these had belonged to my grandmother when she was a child; hence, the old-fashioned illustrations. You know, books now out of print such as Robert L. Stevenson's Verses for Children: Up into the cherry tree, who should climb but little me? And then, in the poem, the child proceeds to look, from the treetop, at all those faraway foreign lands and dream about them...

For example, if you look below at those tree roots, the space beneath is almost as tall as I am! I could sit underneath and the tree would shelter me. Looked to me as if something out of The Chronicles of Narnia.

The orange chair below covered in wild hair is me--my hair reacts to moisture the same way it'd react to an electric shock. It expands in all directions. It takes over.

We were sitting around drinking whiskey and enjoying the view. You'd think the weather--its pervasive cold moisture and fog--is not enjoyable, but it actually is ... if you are properly attired and drinking good whiskey! Great company and conversation definitely makes it even better. As in, perfect.

Sitting pretty on a mountain top, looking at the world below

I can't tell you how many species of orchids and mushrooms I saw that I had never seen before! And BEAUTIFUL giant grasshoppers and spiders in amazing colors. I brought back some plant specimens, which I have proceeded to place in pots, hoping they'll thrive.

For people who enjoy camping (I don't), the place seems like a great place to pitch a tent. On the other hand, given the size and abundance of critters, maybe not ... at least there are no mosquitoes!

Wild flowers hanging from tree trunks

The flowers below are called "cartuchos" and they grow wild everywhere on that mountain. They look like nuns. You know the type, like the "flying nun"? In the city, you have to pay a pretty penny to buy them!

Cartucho

Anyhow, as the sun was setting and the whisky dwindling, we drove to Antigua, a city built in the XVI Century and preserved by the U.N. as a World Heritage Site. We went to a big plant and garden shop--Vivero Escalonia (Escalonia Greenhouse).

It has paths winding among the plants and one of those stores which have handmade soaps, aromatic candles, windchimes and organic coffee. It also has an outdoor café. The latter serves organic food and lots of vegan fare. It's beautiful.

Garden path at Escalonia

I purchased some aromatic plants for my kitchen. Fresh basil and rosemary, as well as a plant called "Italian lavender" which smells heavenly.

Vivero Escalonia at sunset

The tables are nested among the plants, and the service is prompt and courteous. It is clearly frequented by foreign patrons, because I heard all kinds of different languages spoken. In case you want to visit, it is right across the street from Mesón Panza Verde (Panza Verde Inn) in Antigua. Below, some of the food prices.

Fruit and yogurt plate

The food is amazingly good and inexpensive. For example, a large yogurt and fruit plate is about US$3.50 or US$4.00 and a big crepe filled with fruit is also about US$3.50 to 4.00. These are big enough to be a hearty adult meal. A very thick slice of chicken pie and fresh salad goes for about US$5.00. ¡Their smoothies are to die for!

The smoothies vary in prices but are around US$2.00 to US$3.00. I had the starfruit and soya smoothie. Delicious. All of the produce is super fresh and if you are allergic to milk, no problem, drinks can be prepared with water or soya. The granola is (almost!) as good as mine.

Chicken and veggie pie with salad

Well, life goes on. The plumber who was to work on the renovation of my kitchen and bathroom did not arrive when he was supposed. He arrived today, exactly 2 working days after he said he would be here. It is no use firing them and finding another because this, I assure you, is standard procedure here!

I consider myself lucky if the providor is hardworking and as honest as can be expected when he does his work, and just go with the flow with the timeliness factor. No use fighting the current.

I am "in talks" (as they say here) with some young artists who offered come make an artsy mural in one of the hallways. The arts scene in downtown Guatemala is really thriving. There is yet another big art festival these two weeks, celebrating the Revolution of October 20th (in 1944) (Google it, if you must), which means lots of great concerts, art exhibits, performances, etc.

Get this: There is a rave at the central plaza on Wednesday! A rave. To celebrate a 1944 revolution. It's as if there were a rave to celebrate the triumph of Civil Rights in the US, maybe.

Most holidays seem to be celebrated here in very fun ways, regardless of how solemn. A trip to the pub usually follows. Which is fine with me, as we live in the midst of all these happenings! Really. Life could be worse.

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