Best way to start a story: “In Nebraska, we had 35 cows, and there is always one that is a rebel…”
Day 3: Josh, Alejandro and I hit the road. He makes us call him Tio (uncle) even though that is not his technical relationship to us, and specializes in delivering killer dead pan insults directed at your most obvious insecurities and maintaining a constant uncertainty even after he cracks a smile as to whether or not he was serious. He also LOVES Josh. He constantly calls him “El Capitan” and persistently says “Sorry” to him with eyes sadder than the most distended youngster from Save the Children commercials after each time he shows him something beautiful, or completes an activity with us that was either fun or exciting. Enough about him. He took us to los Cuervas de Candelaria, an intricate network of caves spanning the Northern part of guatemala for who knows how many kilometers. I am definitely getting married there. I don’t care if half the senior citizens in my life can’t hobble down into the cave entrance. I will pay for hip replacements for every one of them. I’ve never seen anything like it. Carlsbad was cool but these caves had huge “ventanas” or entrances that let the sun in in rather creative ways. Our guide used a flashlight to show us how the stalactites and what not looked like bears, ducks, dogs, heads of Mayan rulers etc. and then Alejo asked Josh and I to try and find some figures ourselves but the only ones I could find looked obscene so I just stayed quiet. I know nobody wants to listen to me slobber over how beautiful they were so instead I’m going to do so over the new love of my life. Gaero. He is the strongest, kindest, most adorable barely pubescent boy in all of Central America. Background: After the caves we went to a lake called Petexbatun where Alejandro has a little house on the lake surrounded by a jungle that he is preserving. The lake is completely surrounded by land that has been deforested for cattle grazing so this house was on an island of eco-privelege in the most literal sense of the phrase. We had to cross the lake on a tiny boat to get to it and that is when we met Gaero. I would seriously be in love with him if his voice wasn’t still cracking. He paddled us valiantly out to sea so that we could get the boat deep enough to start the motor. He tried to teach me to paddle but alas I had already had a couple beers and my balance is notoriously bad to begin with. That night I cooked for everybody, including Gaero and his grandpa, over a little woodburning stove in a hut with no electricity, and I must say it was awesome. Que ricos todos dijieron profusely. Vikki…I made leeks only no cream or butter, and I only knocked like 20% of them out of the pan. That night I swung in the hammock and wrote a good story about the Keeper by candle light and drifted off to sleep.
Day 4: HOWLER MONKEYS. If you have never been awoken by these things before it is like straight out of Jurassic Park only with literally no real concern for your life. But good heavens are they ominous sounding. I saw them sitting around in the trees, crowing like velociraptors just outside the hut. We went on a hike that morning. Hiking: this activity has for whatever reason become the most common activity of my summer (note the reservation in value judgment) along with access to blueberries and maple. Irony is the best. The ground was wet from the heavy rains so Gaero machete’d me a stick to walk. We went to some Mayan caves on Alejandro’s property and guess who found some awesome Mayan pot shards for me and Josh…duh. His majesty also used his cellphone to show me around these little cubby holes in the cave. The whole experience was magical. We left the lake that afternoon to head towards Tikal. Tikal is the site of the most famous Mayan ruins in Guatemala. We tried to stay in Francis Ford Coppola’s hotel nearby but it was full so instead we ate Italian food and stayed at a French Hotel. Colonialism is a bitch. I got into a delightful conversation about globalization and the origins of Modern Culture with Josh and Alejandro. Inserted by josh himself: Josh had some interesting views and I appreciated his insight. End quote. The conversation lasted longer than Josh’s patience.
Day 5: We went to Tikal today. Giant city of temples and ruins and jungle and more monkeys. Ok enough history. Josh had…the worst…swampass/junglebutt ever recorded. We are talking overt peed in pants kind of wet. Annotated by Josh: “I felt like I just got out of the pool, and I was the only white guy around. The humidity was worse than Dallas and I honestly know what it feels like to be the fat guy in the crowd that everybody makes fun of, however I am just sweaty. This is me for real: Does it look like I pissed my pants?!?!?! Walk in front of me cuz I dont want you staring at my pee pants. At least I was hydrated. And only one arm is sunburned.” Josh thought the best way to beat the heat was to go commando since he was out of clothes. He went through three pairs of boxers (undies) on account of the humidity. We climbed three huge pyramids and took some stereotypical pictures and stuff, all of which had to be taken from the side because he didn’t want anyone to see the crotch and ass puddles. Tikal is one of those places where if you haven’t gone, everyone will tell you always that you HAVE to go, which I didn’t really understand until we were on top of one of the tombs and it started to downpour. We continued walking around Tikal in the deluge. Suddenly the swampass didn’t matter anymore and Josh was at ease. Despite a later comment that religion is screwing up everything geopolitically, Josh still described this afternoon as a spiritual experience. Alejandro decided to stay by the pool for the day. Now we are playing checkers and drinking away what I discovered was Josh’s second to last army paycheck. God Bless America. That is a good note to end on I’d say.
Happy Father’s Day Daddy!
Andrea
