SUPERTROPICMEN - FLORES - Google english

A trip that surprised me, Guatemala.

The impressive volcanoes along Lake Atitlan, the serene beauty of Antigua, the former capital, the mysterious Chichicastenango market and church. We were able to visit and check that Catholics mingled Mayan rituals. Sacrifice of a small animal in the church, mysterious fumes and all that we couldn’t perceive by ignorance. Since the same entrance, yet on stairs, was perceived that it was very, very special.

The archaeological ruins of Tikal, priceless, amid the jungle.

And the sheer fun in Panajachel, a village north of the lake. Between bohemian and tourism.

The day we arrived at the lake we went out at night to have a beer with a guide who knew the place and advised us. Although we were very tired and the temptation was sleeping ... probably one of the days I've laughed more.

But surely if you propose a route through the country apart leaving a dot on the map, no one will take you to Flores.

The name leads to imagine a colonial village with low houses and all paved. But it was not ...

From the capital, Guatemala, take a plane to head north, to the Lacandon jungle. The north is a jungle area that has a path as something like a rectangle between Mexico and Belize. In the jungle Lake Petén Itzá is. Majestic, green, cute really. Heat, sound forest; strange sounds of birds, monkeys and other critters. Very jungle.

The hotel was on the lake shore. Well prepared and comfortable bungalows. Had a reception decorated with tasteful and meeting place.

In those coordinates there was nothing but jungle. Yet commented on the dangers posed by the Guerrilla (this happened a few years ago).

At some distance to the north, the ruins of Tikal. And without interest, to the southwest, a few kilometers, the town of Flores, home of some workers in the hotel.

It was almost standard for Supertropics, visit the visitable, to go have a beer and learn about the local population. There would also be well. After a talk with people in the hotel reception and check that there were no taxis, they invited us to go with them to the village, after their workday.

Supertropics Meeting and all ready. About nine o'clock in the evening, either camaraderie and scented clean clothes. That was going well.

Hotel van and friends reception, spiced with a group of crazy youngs  wanting to binge. We've had some similar occurrence elsewhere.

Now we were already dodging the potholes in the road to go to the "village". Pure jungle. . . holes and more holes. . . the van looked like a fairground attraction, now shake left and right now, knowing glances ... heard comments from friends of the hotel.

I have always felt uneasy about "questionable" situations like this. Especially when you do not know nor place nor people do not know what to expect. And I'm nervous ... A tickle in the stomach with the slope dinner digest.

In contrast, although should already be accustomed, the troop was pure happiness, carelessness and decision, or so it seemed.

There were no light bulbs apart from the van. It seemed farther than expected, or simply could not go faster ... These people seemed "legal". . .

Our questions about the people, places to go, environment, population, etc., caused no predictable responses. They did not explain too much, said to each other that if the house this or that place. It seemed that did not fully understand our concerns.

Until we saw a little light. Indicating the proximity of human life. It was a sad bulb hanging from the middle of the street. A dirt road with no sidewalks, huts rather than houses, a dog sniffing, and suddenly and scaring us, a drunk adapted to the place. Indian features, without much power balance and staring.

Braking and swerving blast ...

You could not see anyone else on the street. It was the only street? . . .

A little further, a little more light on this sad place. A badly parked car with more corrosion than paint, a light bulb beyond...

The van stopped near a house that seemed bigger than the others. I expected to see, do not know why, a sign of Coca Cola or beer indicating a bar or something. There was no indication of public premises.

I looked at our sherpas and didn’t seem puzzled. This was the "place" where we’d take a Cuba-libre. We entered the room pushing a plastic curtain faded garnet-red color, result of tropical sun.

In the first instance a room with a few plastic tables indicating signs of "bar" and a small bar without owner. We follow our guides across the room and stopped in a courtyard. Castilian military style barracks. Around the great courtyard was a multitude of green doors, all equal, with the same distance between them. The place was also quite dark and could not see too many details. We had still not seen anyone.

A few yards going into that courtyard was a brighter place, like a small gazebo with chairs and a table. We settled there. At least, be there gave a sense of protection missed abroad.

Finally came a very friendly gentleman who asked us for a drink. Mainly we asked Cuba Libre. He served them in glasses, and as usual in the area, alcohol poor.

Our friends wanted to tell jokes, and the group, or at least I, needed some relaxation therapy.

The mood is different there. In each location the mood is different. You just want to laugh by laughing, by drink or education, but sometimes is difficult to find grace or the understanding the joke you've told.

"When in Rome do as the Romans". They repeated drink and we had to be educated. Follow local traditions were a sign of education, and we were very, very polite. As educated as they could resist.
When it seemed a regular night would, seasoned in a strange place an indefinable village with no chance of Local dive, crossed before us, about 5 meters, a girl covered only with a towel that seemed to come from showering.

We looked surprised. Our friends told us that she was exhibiting to us.

This was a brothel in the style of the area! In fact, in such an isolated place and so depressed, should be places like this, but we had not thought we would go. I guess our colleagues thought that our intention was that, since they had not much understanding "mobilization" to have a beer.

Well, this became the meeting nice. After a while of drinks, or at least to me it seemed, played back to the hotel and get some sleep. The next day would be tired and we had to visit Tikal.

We went outside the premises and the hotel people told us that they were left to sleep in the village.

We had to taxi back? There were taxis?.

Our friends told us they would do some management and walked around a bit by the "center" of town. There were people on the street, leaning against the walls of the houses, with dubious appearance. They looked like a porn film is viewed; fix, undisguised and with desire.

My feeling / uptake was pure fear environment. The adrenaline was pouring out.

It seemed that they had found a taxi, but that people were still talking to each other suspiciously.

They had found a taxi but distrusted. They confessed that they thought we didn’t arrive alive at the hotel if we went back alone. Life was nothing there and not needed too much for killing.

I collapsed with those words. The ears were burning, my legs were shaking and I promised that if we returned to the hotel would not do stupid things like that (holy innocence). I had a sharp prick in the stomach and the possible effects of alcohol had mysteriously disappeared.

The rumor of fear clouded my mind. It was a time when the brain changes the frequency of the waves. The sensations are different, pure and where the will to survive passes over other options.

I guess my head rushed too fast and intuition of danger had done the rest. Our friends decided to take us back to the hotel in the van.

Luckily they were good people. I am not aware of lap time. I remember my body was changing from a semi-catatonic state to a state of great receptivity. The adrenaline had broken my body control. The legs would not respond. Upon arrival, the vision of the cabins looked like the vision of the Holy Grail. Nothing mattered. No matter sleep, fatigue, whatever.

Although sounded exaggerated, we saved life, or I had lived as such.

I entered the cabin I bent down and kissed the ground. Safe Zone!

JP