Day 251: Semana Santa and Semuc Champey

“Two thousand years ago Jesus is crucified, three days later he walks out of a cave and they celebrate with chocolate bunnies and marshmallow Peeps and beautifully decorated eggs. I guess these were things Jesus loved as a child.”     - Billy Crystal

I was recently informed by several confidantes that my last blog post was a bit negative; for that I apologize.  I do try to stay positive here, but, as I know better than anyone, I have a tendency to slide into self-pity and just stay there.  It’s all too easy to focus on homesickness, and what isn’t working in my community, and how I have it so hard.  When I stop to reflect, though, I actually have it pretty good.  I have all the basic stuff—my health, a sturdy house, a loving family, etc. etc. etc.  But I also have a lot of tiny comforts that many Peace Corps Volunteers (and Guatemalans, and people around the world, for that matter) go without.  I have a working hot shower.  I’m close to a hippie gringo town, where I can buy quinoa and sometimes even Pop-Tarts.  I can exercise safely and happily on my stationary bike.  I can afford to take vacations—and this brings us to the main topic of this post.

It’s Holy Week in Guatemala, and it’s a big deal.  There are no measly Easter egg hunts or pagan bunny costumes; it’s all about the resurrection of Christ.  Seemingly half the western hemisphere gathers in Antigua for celebratory parades (each parade participant shouldering about 90 lbs of a heavy wooden “float” showcasing various saint statues or Jesus’s tomb).  The streets are lined with alfombras, intricate pavement designs made with brightly dyed sawdust.

Pretty rad, even in hazy weather.

Said alfombras are destroyed as the parades (or rainstorms) pass over them, and then recrafted for the next day—because the Holy Week celebration lasts for at least four days, from Thursday through Sunday.  Interestingly (to me, at least), the biggest parades and Masses take place on Good Friday, the day of Jesus’s crucifixion, while Easter Sunday is more a day of rest and recovery.  When I passed through Antigua on Easter Sunday, the streets felt exhausted and abandoned, with only a few stragglers constructing half-hearted flower alfombras.

Most Guatemalan Peace Corps Volunteers take vacation during Holy Week (Semana Santa), because there’s so much to see around the country and no one’s working anyway.  My friend Naomi and I decided to take a trip to Semuc Champey, widely regarded to be the most beautiful place in Guatemala and one of the most beautiful places in the world.  The best way I can describe Semuc Champey is as a series of turquoise pools cascading down a limestone land bridge, which in turn stretches across a rushing river.  You kind of have to see it.  And so, starting from far away and gradually zooming in, I give you the following photographic masterpieces:

Perhaps the single downside of Semuc Champey is how difficult it is to get to.  It’s only 190 miles (by road) from my site, but it took Naomi and me 14 hours to get there.  First, our shuttle from Sololá to Antigua was an hour late.  I actually didn’t mind this so much, because it gave us the opportunity to observe a street vendor making and selling some sort of…health drink?  After juicing a few oranges, the vendor would add a mysterious powder to turn the OJ green (the box holding the powder promised sexual endurance and clearer sinuses and all sorts of things).  Then, just before handing the glass to a customer, the vendor added one or two (unrefrigerated) raw eggs.  Naomi and I watched in awe as customer after customer chugged the fluorescent eggy concoction.  When they finished, the vendor scrubbed out the glass, gave it a quick rinse, and set to work creating more sexual endurance juice.  I like to think I’m fairly adventurous in trying new foods, but you would have to pay me many many quetzales to try this one.

Once on board our shuttle, we had a quiet but hot ride to Antigua, where we had to wait for a second, also late, shuttle.  This second shuttle, in the course of its nine-hour trek to the town of Lanquin, took only two bathroom breaks.  I amused myself with podcasts, crosswords, and eavesdropping on the flirtations between a really desperate American dude and some giggly Australians (an excellent moment from their game of 20 Questions: Is it smaller than a plane?  Yes.  Is it a country?).  We rolled into Lanquin at about 11:30 pm, then boarded our final, rough-terrain shuttle.  Given that Lanquin is only about nine miles from Semuc Champey, I thought we were minutes from the hostel.  But it was a rough-terrain shuttle for a reason.  It took us over a half hour to traverse the rutted path, by which time I was desperate for sleep.

We spent the next day exploring the Semuc Champey nature park.  We hiked up a steep hill overlooking the land bridge, then headed back down (significantly sweatier) for a swim.  We feasted on pineapple, hot corn tortillas, mashed avocadoes, and these weird chocolate patties, which I’m pretty sure were comprised solely of cocoa powder, sugar, oil, and cardamom.

During the hot hot hot afternoon, we hiked the nine miles uphill to Lanquin, in search of provisions.  Naomi wanted ice cream, I wanted yogurt, and we both wanted to prove to our hostel owner that we could walk there (when we told him our hiking plan in the morning, he told us it was not possible to walk so far).  Sadly, he was less than impressed when we returned to brag about our success.  No matter; the views alone were worth the sweat:

For a bit of a more cultural experience, Naomi and I bussed over to Coban, a veritable city two hours from Lanquin.  We saw Holy Week floats,

This man is kind of my hero.  Guatemalans usually don't smile, let alone thumbs-up, in photographs.

and solved the mystery of alfombra construction.

Answer: STENCILS!

We even got to help make one.

Our last day of vacation was spent hanging out with our Argentinian hostel roommates and attempting to go tubing in the river.  I say attempting because, while the rest of the tubing group floated happily past, Naomi and I sat motionless in the middle of the current.  A Guatemalan eventually took pity on us, and jumped into the river to push us.  It was surreal and kind of magical.

The tubing river

As most vacations do, ours ended too soon.  I don’t think I’ll ever return to Semuc Champey—it’s just too hard to get to—but I’m so glad I went.  I leave you with two last photos.  The first is a snapshot from a crowded pickup truck ride from Semuc Champey to Lanquin, during which all 30 pickup bed occupants were airborne at one time or another.  The second is a shout-out to a family friend and his faithful chihuahua Rosita.

"Parking/TV Cable/Hot Water/24 Hours"