My dad, Joe McGraw, visited me this week. He came all the way from my hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma to have a look around and get a sense of highland Guatemala. My father is a born adventurer and has traveled to more than 70 countries, mostly in the last few years with his wife, Carol. While they once had the opportunity to set foot in Guatemala, along the eastern coast, neither had been to the interior of the country.
On Tuesday night, after many problems with his flights, my father arrived in Guatemala City around 10pm. I had left San Pedro on a so-called “chicken bus” (which thankfully had no chickens today) at 6am for Guatemala City, called “La Capital” by most Guatemalans. I arrived a bit after 10am and received a call from my Dad describing part of his flight troubles which prevented him from arriving at his originally scheduled time of 11:30am. I headed for the airport anyway, in order to catch a shuttle, and departed for Antigua to meet up with my friend from the UCSD Anthropology Department, Eric Hoenes. Eric has been the most helpful grad student in the program, often providing detailed advice to us underlings about how to apply for grants, how to form a committee, design a project, etc. He’s been a tremendous help to me personally and basically gave me the idea of coming here in the first place. Eric’s mother, a native Guatemalan, recently purchased a home in Antigua. Eric and his girlfriend, Nicole Peterson (who received her PhD from our department in 2005), are spending a month at the new place in Antigua where Eric is working on his dissertation based upon the fieldwork he did in Coban, Guatemala. Eric had invited my Dad and I to stay at his place while we visited Antigua.
I got the shuttle driver to drop me off at Eric’s place and he, Nicole, and I left shortly thereafter to get some lunch at a place that offered some of the unique regional dishes of Guatemala. Later we walked around town and made a stop at CIRMA (Centro de Investigaciones Regionales de Mesoamerica) which I’m sure will play an important role in my future work here. Afterwards they took me through the market which had everything from fruits to hammers to pirated Hollywood movies that had only been released in the states a day or two before. Antigua has a really good market, both for the locals (chickens, beans, and radios) and for the tourists (clothing, paintings, and other handmade items). Eric and Nicole picked up some spices, a houseplant, and a barbecue grill made from an old truck wheel.
Later in the evening we went out for some dinner and a stop at a bar where I was able to pay the cover, get mixed drinks for Nicole and Eric, as well as a liter of beer for myself, all for around $6 US. I think it will be hard to return to San Diego prices this September! We headed back to Eric’s around 10pm and I waited up for Dad who finally arrived a bit before midnight.
Dad was impressed with Antigua which we toured the next day but was even more impressed by Lake Atitlan which we arrived at by seven that evening. Over the next few days we explored Panajachel and a number of the smaller communities located upon the northern shore of the lake including Santa Cruz, Jaibalito, and San Marcos. We enjoyed a beautiful hike between Santa Cruz and Jaibalito which followed a path that climbed well-above the lake and offered some spectacular views.
On Sunday we took a shuttle from San Pedro to Chichicastenango which features the largest market in the country on Thursdays and Sundays. I looked through the countless stalls but was ultimately no more impressed with this market than the one I had already visited in Antigua. We did not end up buying much but enjoyed walking around town shooting photos. We were impressed to come across the graveyard, which is definitely the most colorful I’ve ever seen! The graves were above ground mausoleums painted in bright pinks, oranges, yellows, and blues. We headed back from San Pedro that afternoon and listened to a babel of languages in the van, the other passengers were from Israel, the Netherlands, and Spain. Two of these passengers, Walter (Dutch) and Schlomeeth (Israeli) had dinner with us that night at my favorite hangout in San Pedro, Zoola, an unusual bit of the mediterranean that found its way to Atitlan. One sits, or rather slouches, on plant-fiber mats under a thatched roof shelter and enjoys hummus, eggplant, schnitzel, and rogalach. Dad decided to sample the Guatemalan rum a few times before staggering back to his hotel. Walter, Schlomeeth, and I stayed a bit longer discussing Middle Eastern politics and the energy crisis while drinking liter after liter of Brahva, the Brazilian beer that broke into the Guatemalan market a couple of years earlier to vie with Gallo and, well, Gallo.
By late afternoon the next day my Dad had come down with the inevitable case of traveler’s discomfort (a.k.a. the revenge). He spent an uncomfortable night in San Pedro. On Tuesday I accompanied him to Panajachel to catch his van for Guatemala City. After taking a few of the nuclear-strength anti-diarrheals that my mom had procured from her doctor my Dad was in a holding pattern for his journey back. In spite of the fun we had, I’m pretty sure he was pleased to return to stomach-friendly America and ultimately to the idyllic setting of Carpinteria, California where he was heading for a few weeks of vacation with my step-mother.
On Tuesday night, after many problems with his flights, my father arrived in Guatemala City around 10pm. I had left San Pedro on a so-called “chicken bus” (which thankfully had no chickens today) at 6am for Guatemala City, called “La Capital” by most Guatemalans. I arrived a bit after 10am and received a call from my Dad describing part of his flight troubles which prevented him from arriving at his originally scheduled time of 11:30am. I headed for the airport anyway, in order to catch a shuttle, and departed for Antigua to meet up with my friend from the UCSD Anthropology Department, Eric Hoenes. Eric has been the most helpful grad student in the program, often providing detailed advice to us underlings about how to apply for grants, how to form a committee, design a project, etc. He’s been a tremendous help to me personally and basically gave me the idea of coming here in the first place. Eric’s mother, a native Guatemalan, recently purchased a home in Antigua. Eric and his girlfriend, Nicole Peterson (who received her PhD from our department in 2005), are spending a month at the new place in Antigua where Eric is working on his dissertation based upon the fieldwork he did in Coban, Guatemala. Eric had invited my Dad and I to stay at his place while we visited Antigua.
I got the shuttle driver to drop me off at Eric’s place and he, Nicole, and I left shortly thereafter to get some lunch at a place that offered some of the unique regional dishes of Guatemala. Later we walked around town and made a stop at CIRMA (Centro de Investigaciones Regionales de Mesoamerica) which I’m sure will play an important role in my future work here. Afterwards they took me through the market which had everything from fruits to hammers to pirated Hollywood movies that had only been released in the states a day or two before. Antigua has a really good market, both for the locals (chickens, beans, and radios) and for the tourists (clothing, paintings, and other handmade items). Eric and Nicole picked up some spices, a houseplant, and a barbecue grill made from an old truck wheel.
Later in the evening we went out for some dinner and a stop at a bar where I was able to pay the cover, get mixed drinks for Nicole and Eric, as well as a liter of beer for myself, all for around $6 US. I think it will be hard to return to San Diego prices this September! We headed back to Eric’s around 10pm and I waited up for Dad who finally arrived a bit before midnight.
Dad was impressed with Antigua which we toured the next day but was even more impressed by Lake Atitlan which we arrived at by seven that evening. Over the next few days we explored Panajachel and a number of the smaller communities located upon the northern shore of the lake including Santa Cruz, Jaibalito, and San Marcos. We enjoyed a beautiful hike between Santa Cruz and Jaibalito which followed a path that climbed well-above the lake and offered some spectacular views.
On Sunday we took a shuttle from San Pedro to Chichicastenango which features the largest market in the country on Thursdays and Sundays. I looked through the countless stalls but was ultimately no more impressed with this market than the one I had already visited in Antigua. We did not end up buying much but enjoyed walking around town shooting photos. We were impressed to come across the graveyard, which is definitely the most colorful I’ve ever seen! The graves were above ground mausoleums painted in bright pinks, oranges, yellows, and blues. We headed back from San Pedro that afternoon and listened to a babel of languages in the van, the other passengers were from Israel, the Netherlands, and Spain. Two of these passengers, Walter (Dutch) and Schlomeeth (Israeli) had dinner with us that night at my favorite hangout in San Pedro, Zoola, an unusual bit of the mediterranean that found its way to Atitlan. One sits, or rather slouches, on plant-fiber mats under a thatched roof shelter and enjoys hummus, eggplant, schnitzel, and rogalach. Dad decided to sample the Guatemalan rum a few times before staggering back to his hotel. Walter, Schlomeeth, and I stayed a bit longer discussing Middle Eastern politics and the energy crisis while drinking liter after liter of Brahva, the Brazilian beer that broke into the Guatemalan market a couple of years earlier to vie with Gallo and, well, Gallo.
By late afternoon the next day my Dad had come down with the inevitable case of traveler’s discomfort (a.k.a. the revenge). He spent an uncomfortable night in San Pedro. On Tuesday I accompanied him to Panajachel to catch his van for Guatemala City. After taking a few of the nuclear-strength anti-diarrheals that my mom had procured from her doctor my Dad was in a holding pattern for his journey back. In spite of the fun we had, I’m pretty sure he was pleased to return to stomach-friendly America and ultimately to the idyllic setting of Carpinteria, California where he was heading for a few weeks of vacation with my step-mother.
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