Roasting marshmallows on an active volcano and heading to Montericco

The alarm came way too early the next morning, especially because Miguel ended up snoring ridiculously loudly all night. That teaches us to bring kids who aren't technically staying with us back to the hostel. Only four of us ended up getting out of bed for the hike, so Emily, Adam, Ryan, and I collected our belongings and went outside to wait for the shuttle. We figured we'd be able to sleep in the van, but definitely didn't factor in the whole cobblestone-followed-by-dirt-and-bumpy-road thing, meaning that letting your head stay loose would result in either becoming a pseudo-bobble head doll or potentially getting a concussion from slamming into the windows. Remarkably, two of us still managed the feat, but I was not among those who coped with that particular obstacle because I was busy trying to stay alert enough to notice if we were being driven to some sketchy village in Guatemala where we would be robbed and left on the side of the road, as per the diplomats' warnings. Of course that endeavor was probably unnecessary, because we drove for over an hour and I would not have known what direction we were driving in if asked, let alone if it was the right way to Pacaya. I relaxed a bit when we passed a sign that read "Volcan Pacaya" and then as the van gained altitude the knot in my stomach loosened and I accepted for a fact (rather than taking the word of the pamphlet) that this was a legitimate organization. The only moment I questioned it after that was when a random guy jumped onto the back of the van and another jumped into the van with us. That was slightly uncomfortable until we actually stopped at the top and realized that one of them would be our guide and the other, well, actually, I guess I'm still not sure about the other one.

After buying some marshmallows and a walking stick from a little kid and shivering a bit at 7:00 in the morning, wishing I'd brought a sweatshirt into this country, the four of us started our hike behind Raul, our trusty tour guide, who spoke no English. Luckily, I was proficient enough to do a little bit of translating, and eventually was able to figure out why an old man was following us for a while with a skinny horse (apparently for 100 quetzals more he would give us a ride up and down) and why there were dogs following us for even longer (When I asked Raul if they were his he just replied, "No, son tu seguridad." And for those non-Spanish speakers (and non-cognate-interpreters), that means, "No, they're your security."). The best part about that fact was that "security" was technically included in the $10 we paid for transportation and to hike the volcano with a guide, so basically, it was just hilarious.

So among the things I learned from Raul on that hour and a half hike (which may or may not have gone a bit shorter if we hadn't been out until whatever hour it was the night before) are that from different parts of the mountain you can see the Volcan Acatenango, Volcan de Fuego, and Volcan de Agua. I also learned that Pacaya Volcano has been active for 48 (I think, but sometimes mix up numbers in Spanish so am not sure) years and that its last big eruption was in 2000. The final approach to the active part of the volcano got fairly steep and looked remarkably like the scene depicted by Tolkien in the Lord of the Rings where Frodo and Sam start trudging toward Mordor. (Adam's analogy, but I definitely saw it.) Honestly, the volcano wasn't a "must-see" for me in Guatemala, but was more of just something I decided to do semi-spur-of-the-moment. I didn't expect to be as impressed with and excited by it as I was, but seeing that lava flowing down for the first time was actually really thrilling and hard to tear my eyes away from. Of course my entire body was a different story, because when I finally got right up to the lava my head turned involuntarily away from it due to the intense heat burning my face. It was harsher than sitting directly in front of the fireplace where I used to read and get the equivalent of sunburn on my back around Christmastime when I was younger. Apparently people occasionally fall into the lava, but honestly, I don't see how it is possible to get that close based on the heat protruding from the orangey-red flowing mass. The phrase "wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole" came into my head as I was holding my walking stick out trying to touch it, however, and I felt clever for a split second.

We got out the tropical marshmallows (because regular ones weren't being sold at the base of the mountain) and used a stick Raul had found to roast them over the lava, which is just a pretty cool thing to be able to say I've done. I mean come on, who doesn't want to be able to say they ate a marshmallow roasted over lava? I thought of Sara and Shanna as I did that, because of the time on that Youth Group ski trip that we roasted them over a candle in Vermont since there was no fireplace readily accessible. Let's just say it took a little bit longer to do it then than it did with the lava. The entire scene really lent itself to the photo shoot that ensued, aside from the fact that we were slipping and getting cut up on the sharp volcanic rocks; some even got into my shoes and cut my feet. The view was unbeatable, though, in general. (Well, except maybe for things like the Taj Mahal and Angkor Wat, but actually, I think that this may have been just as perfect in its own way- "same same, but different," as they would say in Vietnam.

Originally, we were the only SAS kids there, but as we were getting ready to leave it seemed like swarms of people ascended the volcano all at once, making us feel pretty proud that we'd made it up first. After talking to a few people, skiing down the volcano for a while (only getting a few more minor scrapes), and marveling at the view a bit longer, we followed Raul as he started hiking back down. It hit me then that the scrapes we got from this volcano will still be visible by the time we get home, and that it's plausible that someone will ask about them and we'll have to say, "Oh, I got that climbing an active volcano in Guatemala last week," instead of just telling stories with no clear connection to the present because they happened months ago by now. I don't know why I found that interesting, but I did.

I was all too happy to get back into the van for the return trip to Antigua, and actually think I may have fallen asleep for a few minutes here and there this time. The general consensus after getting dropped off at the Parque Central was that we would soon starve if we didn't find lunch soon, so the four of us set off in search of McDonalds or Burger King as a nice taste of home at the end of a grueling trip. We stumbled upon McDonalds first, and entered to find the nicest restaurant in the chain that any of us had ever seen. Seriously, this thing had a courtyard with a fountain, incredibly clean tables, rooms, and even bathrooms, and the fastest fast-food service I've ever encountered. I got a Big Mac and fries and felt like I was in heaven for .2 seconds until I noticed that even here, in Antigua, people were taking our pictures with their cell phones. Some things are the same everywhere, I suppose. The Yankee game was on, which was also a fun reminder of home, and we watched that while we ate.

After lunch, Adam, Emily and I went back to the market for kicks while Ryan horded his computer in the McCafe. I bought a hammock because I couldn't resist and because it was only $10, and we were back with Ryan in enough time to meet Cassie and Maria for our shuttle to Monterrico, where we would spend the last night. The ride seemed to take forever, especially after we passed the port, which Eric had said was "twenty minutes from the beach." On the contrary, it was about another hour to Monterrico, but what're you gonna do, right? A little girl was nice enough to point us in the direction of a hotel once we arrived at the black sand beach just as the clouds rolled in. Our one-night residence was called Johnny's Place, which we soon found to be where many SAS students were staying. It had a pretty awesome setup and I definitely recommend the place; you could choose between private bungalows or dormitories for between 200-300 quetzals per night, meaning that for the four of us to get a room with four beds, four towels, and a private bathroom was only about $6 per person. On the property, there was also a little restaurant with great food (I had a chicken burrito and chocolate and banana crepe), two bars, and a row of hammocks under typical straw-like roofs that I'm sure have a more legitimate and authentic name that I just can't think of at the moment. Bottom line: it was pretty sick.

We sat for a while just chilling and talking until the rain started. Of course, as has become typical on this trip, a local informed us that it hardly ever rained in Monterrico, and that this was the first big rain of the entire year. I didn't mind so much, though, because the lightning that lit up the sky every few seconds will undoubtedly be ingrained in my head for a long time after I go home. Probably the best thunderstorm I've ever seen, the electricity flickered several times before finally going out for a few hours as lightning streaked across the sky and giving the ocean and sky a pale purple tint. Living by candlelight for a bit was entertaining, but I was certainly happy when the lights and music came back on some time around 10:00. It was then that despite the rip-tide, Ryan and I decided to go swimming so that he could complete a certain goal he's had throughout the voyage, and just so that I could go night-swimming, which is my favorite. It was safe enough, we were told as we consulted Sendher (pronunciation is correct, spelling is not), the local guy hanging out at the open restaurant. He took me down to the beach to see the tides and understand that low tide was a bad time to go because the stingrays came out then (and we don't like that now do we?) and that "the next 20 minutes would be ideal- and I will go with you to be sure." So Ryan, Sendher, Tiana (Sendher's friend who is actually American and has lived in Guatemala for a little over a month), and I ran into the ocean with the remnants of the lightning still lighting up the sky off in the distance behind us. Apparently it would have been pretty picturesque if anyone who followed us to watch had been able to whip out their camera at the right moment. Oh well- like many things this semester, a picture most likely wouldn't have done it justice anyway.

We got out a few minutes later and I went back to the bungalow to shower and change into my last set of dry clothes. Everyone else began drinking at this point, but I refrained once I got back outside and instead focused my energy on getting a coconut out of a tree (which I was eventually successful in doing). I had some good conversations and saw some interesting things (including naked chicken fights in the pools that you couldn't have paid me enough to participate in) and went to bed long before everyone else (at around 2) so that I could wake up for the sunrise the next morning.

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