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Published: July 23rd 2006
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Hello Everyone!
I´m back in Quetzaltenango again. Lizzie and I are spending our last few days here with her homestay family. If you remember, four long weeks ago we arrived in Guatemala and stayed with these wonderful people, and now our trip has come full circle.
The last few days we have been in Monterrico, a small island town on the Pacific coast. The dominant sound in the town was the constant crashing of the waves. We were there during the low tide, they say during high tide the waves almost hit the beachfront hotels. I loved playing in the violence of the waves. They were so powerful they would throw you around like a ragdoll, and the undertow would pull you right back in. While I was loving it, Lizzie was getting her eye scratched by the sand.
Consequently, we left the water and tried to solve her pain ourselves. This failed, and Guatemala´s new ´´tourist police´´ who were conveniently cruising by in their ATV´s took note of our distress and whisked us over to a happy, laughing, doctor/pharmacist who washed Lizzie´s eye out and proscribed us some eyedrops that would lubricate her eye and help
it heal. Unfortunately, thats where the good natured mischief ended.
Earlier that day we had run into a nice man at the turtle refuge (Monterrico is a nesting ground for three endangered species of sea turtles) who sold us a tour for the night where we could try and find turtles to watch lay eggs. He came to our room after Lizzie and I got back from the doctor to collect the rest of our fare and even offered to run the 7 dollars over to pharmacist so we could rest. That night he even gave us a an eventful, if unsuccessful tour. Afterwards, he said if we were planning to be around another night, we were welcome to come out again free of charge. What a nice man.
The next morning we learned we he was a liar, a crook. He was not affiliated with the turtle refuge. Our guide´s ticket, which he said we would be able to use for free admission to the turtle museum, turned out to be nothing more than a scrap of paper. While the turtle people took pity on us and let us in for free, they also escorted us to those same tourist police, so we could confront our supposed ´´tour guide.´´
It was odd, everyone in town seemed to know of this guy and his reputation. However, nobody seemed to do anything. While we didn´t get our money back for the tour, we did run over to the pharmacist to make sure he actually got paid. There we learned that while he did pay him, he got him to add a ´´tip´´ to our receipt, so as to ask us for more money. He of course didn´t tell us it was a tip at the time, he said the police had taken advantage of us, and charged something for themselves to our account. The police made him give the ´´tip´´ back, but then they sent him on his way. Lizzie and I left wondering why they hadn´t kicked this guy out of town by now, or at least locked him up for the night. Even the police admitted this was not the kid´s first run in with the law.
So, we took another tour, a real one. This new guide led a dramtically different tour. He never tried to ´´run into the water, to help the turtles make land´´ as our first guide had. With the real guide, we walked a long way up and down the beach, only on the lookout for tracks that might show a turtle had already made landfall, and was laying eggs somewhere up the beach. While we only stayed an extra night in that spot because of a criminal, it turned out to be a night well spent. We found the place casual, laid back and happy. The service was always slow, but friendly. And while there was at least one bad apple there, it turned out the people were at least passively working against him. And, most importantly, we learned the police were honestly there to help us. In terms of Guatemala´s checkered past, this is an inspiring revalation.
We have only two more days in country. My final email, of highlights and reflections will probably come from the comfort of my home in Chicago. A computer error deleted my last mailing list forcing me to reconstruct it, so if you know someone who didn´t get this letter, drop me a line, or just forward it to them. Lizzie and I head out to the Chichi market tomorrow, which we saw a month ago, and we head home monday evening.
Thanks to all of you for reading my many letters. I love your responses, I love hearing your stories. I head to Beijing, China for school after Christmas this year and will surely send letters chronicaling my time there. So I will keep this list together for then, if you know anyone who´d like to hear from me, or if any of you disdain those Chinese Reds, and would prefer not to hear of my adventures with them, just drop me a line. Until I write again, thank to everyone, and good luck!
Carl
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