The magnetic draw of Xela

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Quetzaltenango, otherwise known as Xela. Described in the Rough Guide as reminscent of an industrial town in Northern England - grey and cool with friendly down-to-earth inhabitants. 'Just like home' I thought and headed there with the intention of spending Xmas and New Year here. In reality it was pretty dull since most of Xela's inhabitants head for the lake of coast for the holiday season. I followed the crowds and headed to San Pedro for some company and sunshine. See last blog for my adventures in San Pedro

Most of the city was destroyed in an earthquake , so little remains of it's colonial heritage. As Guatemala's second biggest city and an important trading post for the highland's weavings and coffee beans, they decided to rebuild in a style representative of the status it desserves. Hence the main plaza is bold and grey with Greek colums and facades more in line with ancient Europe than Latin America.

The landscape is dominated by the mighty Volcano Santa Maria. There is something inherently exciting about the huge cone, perhaps the sense of danger it imposes on it's surroundings. Though classified 'active', it is the smaller Santiaguito that needs to be feared. After an eruption in 1902 that covered a surrounding village in hot pumice, Santa Maria developed another fearsome cone. It is this that spouts a column of gas and smoke every couple of hours and is classed as one of the world's most active volcanoes. Ranked no. 15, according to this list...Volcano list

Without hesitation I eagerly signed up to the dawn hike up this magnificent peak. Leaving at midnight, layered and with a stockpile of sugary snacks, a group of 11 of us began the climb. In the light of our headlamps there appeared to be driving snow in our faces, it was actually volcanic ash from a recent erruption. Night hiking is not to be sniffed at, not being able to see how far you actually have to climb and how steep it is can be an advantage. So much so that I almost skipped up one step away from the guide to th top, though my secret weapon was the pile of chocolate and fudge in my pocket and the fact I'd been asleep all afternoon. It was cold enough to freeze the proverbials of a brass monkey, the climb made me sweaty but stopping to catch my breath chilled me to the bone. We summited after four hours and were in plenty of time to watch a pot of hot chocolate try and boil at 3800 metres whilst huddling in the rocks and scrub of the surface, I did my best impression of the Duracell bunny in an effort to keep warm. Though as dawn broke over Guatemala, revealing far off peaks poking through a blanket of lilac cloud, it made it all seem worthwhile. The view was breathtaking, as were the gale force winds buffeting the champions of the world.

As is that wasn't enough punishment for the old knees, the next day I took a bus to San Martin Sacatepequez and climbed Volcan Chicabel. The road leads through the fairly wealthy looking village and their vegetable plots to plateau before the ascent. The dusty path up first leads to a fantastic mirador where I got a different perspective on Santa Maria before descending six hundred-odd steps to the Laguna Chicabel. The local Mam people consider this a sacred lake and flower bunches mark the site of ritual sacrifice. Walking the circumference, you can encounter pagan shrines and little burnt clearings where rituals are performed. As soon as the annoying teenagers left, peace descended on the lake broken only by bird song and you could feel the magic and mysticism of the place. Heading back down, there was a football match at the plateau and some local girls beckoned for me to sit down with them. They made some comment about Estados Unidos (United States) , but when I told them I was English they looked a lot more excited and said they loved the look of England on the TV. The best bit was when they asked why I was alone and if I was single. "Yes, I was but I'm looking for a good man" I said. Well, that had them all in hysterics and they started beckoning over their footie playing cousins and friends for me to inspect...which caused even greater hilarity. A magic moment!

The villages in the western highlands are famed for their farming and weavings. Taking a chicken bus a few miles out of town gives a real glimpse of traditional Mayan life. There's a market everyday somewhere nearby, this is the best way to see the locals going about their daily business in their traditional clothing.

The small town of Zunil, South-East of Xela boasts a Monday food market packed into tiny streets and a large shed. At only 5' 4" tall, I'm hardly a giant but I find myself towering over the majority here. As they push and shove their way to the next bargain and I am left floundering, patiently waiting for a gap to get through in a very British but non-effective manner. Following a surge out of the market I head for the Sanctuary of San Simon, or Maximon. Described by some as the 'evil saint' due to his fondness for alcohol and cigarettes, the ladino vices. Every year he is moved to a new house; a darkened room where his custodians watch over him and light his ciagrettes. The ash is thought to cure insomnia and the butts to ward of thieves. Candles burn in front of the wooden effigy symbolising white for the health ofa child, yellow for a good harvest, red for love and black to wish ill on an enemy. San Simon in Zunil was a life-sized wooden mannequin, sporting Ray Bans, a bandana, a cowboy hat and a boy scout uniform. I watched from the row of plastic chairs as a middle-aged man lit a cigarette for him and exchanged Maximon's hat for his own. The caretakers then tipped back his chair and poured some Quetzalteca (cheap liquor) down his throat..no doubt to be collected later for his own enjoyment. Next up were two young women and four children, who threw themselves at the effigy, crying on his arm and begging him for help. Foreigners have been attacked before for making fun of the proceedings, though it is perhaps no more strange than making a wish as you blow out your birthday cake candles or tossing a coin into a well. Wikipedia: San Simon

The town is built up the steep sides of a valley, the precious fertile land in the basin is too valuable for housing and is used as a giant vegetable patch. Neat rows of lettuce, cauliflower, cabbage, potatoes, carrots and onions are planted near the river, maize can be grown on the slopes. The river is filthy and polluted but the plants seem to be thriving. Arriving early, you can watch farmers water their crops using a giant ladle scooped into the irrigation channels and thrown over their shoulders. It seems sad for all that the indigenous cultures worship Mother Earth, they are often the worst for dropping litter.

Further up the mountain from Zunil are the magnificent Fuentes Georginas, hot-spring pools fed from a sulphuric waterfall. The top temperature near the source is a blood-boiling 60 degrees and 15 minutes in the main pool is about all you can manage before hopping under the cold shower. As I stood on the terrace steaming and red, locals sat in their ski-jackets eating their picnics.

Momostenango, North-East of Xela is a fine place to shop for textiles. The women here wear a long strip of fabric would round their hair and wrapped around their head topped with multicoloured pom-poms...top marks for originality! The market was a lot more varied with some sections totally devoted to corn or plastic paraphenalia. The fruit and veg always look so appetising in the bright sunshine, stacked in neat pyramids and there is nothing tastier than freshly podded peas.

The small village of Olintepeque, to the North, hosts a Tuesday animal market. These are always fun and a make a good source of entertainment; watching small men hoist giant pigs into the back of trucks and seeing ladies carrying chickens on their heads. The village is also home to the Capilla de Rey San Pascual (Chapel of the King Saint Pascual), who is a foot high skeleton in a long gown, crowned with gold. He is housed in a dark room where worshippers leave flowers and light candles in the hope that he will cure the sick or bring misfortune on their enemies. The walls surrounding his shrine are covered with plaques from those whose prayers have come true.

The small village of Almolonga was celebrating a years inaugauration of their mayor when I visited. Rows of plastic chairs were set up in the plaza with men in their cowboy hats sat at one side and women in their full traje tipica on the other. The mayor thanked God for the village and made mention of Eva Peron and Israel in his speech, occasionaly throwing in the odd hallelujah. From here I hiked to Los Vahos, a natural sauna set in the foothills of the Sierra Madre. Unfortunately the sauna itself was nothing more than a mouldy hut with steam coming out and there was no way I was getting down to my bikini in there. Hiking further uphill over giant boulders brought me to an amazing rocky outcrop where there were views of the whole valley; the city, villages, fields of flowers and vegetables.

There's something about this city, perhaps because it is fairly normal looking but there's so much to do if you just hop on a bus and go and explore. So I'll say goodbye to Xela for a third time on Saturday and head to Finca la Florida for my farm experience...

See next blog for my adventures in Nebaj

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Photos

Going Bananas
Momostenango market

Comments

[Pippa]

Duracell Bunny
All sounds fantastic and very proud of you for doing the walk sounds like it was definatley woth it.. But the image of Volcan Chicabel's own version of blind date is priceless. x