Manuel, our bus driver, actually came early this morning (really early by Guatemala standards) to take us to Picaya Volcano, one of the most spectacular volcanoes in the country. We were all long awake by then, however, because fireworks had been detonating since before light in celebration of Mother's Day. (Happy Mother's Day, to all of you moms reading this. Felicidades de Madres!) We left around 10am and traveled back towards Guatemala City before bearing south again towards the volcano. The dirt road up the mountain was in considerable disrepair, so we were happy we had soft van seats to ride in instead of the back of a pickup truck as usual.
After we parked, we were immediately bombarded by children asking us to buy walking sticks for the hike up. Men with horses were also congregated convienently by the entrance to this national monument. This presented an opportunity which one of our members, Joe, could not turn down. We were fortunate to have an English-speaking guide because Manuel helped Joe bargain for the price of the ride. We all thought the whole trip was a bargain, though. Halfway up, we met some returning Americans who described conditions as the best they had seen in five visits here. This provided great incentive for those of us on foot to persevere up the steep, eroded path. The first thing we saw as we came around the top of the mountain was the huge field of hardened lava spreading out into the valley below the volcano. As we rounded the last corner we had an amazing view of the lava flowing red-hot out of a recently formed cone. When we got up close we could hear the crackle of the lava flowing. It sounded like clay shingles falling off of a roof, or like the tinkle of metallic sound-effects in a B movie. In between dodging blocks of steaming rock, we got up close to one of the lower lava flows to roast some enormous marshmallows over the heat. After the long hike, these marshmallows were delicious.
After we parked, we were immediately bombarded by children asking us to buy walking sticks for the hike up. Men with horses were also congregated convienently by the entrance to this national monument. This presented an opportunity which one of our members, Joe, could not turn down. We were fortunate to have an English-speaking guide because Manuel helped Joe bargain for the price of the ride. We all thought the whole trip was a bargain, though. Halfway up, we met some returning Americans who described conditions as the best they had seen in five visits here. This provided great incentive for those of us on foot to persevere up the steep, eroded path. The first thing we saw as we came around the top of the mountain was the huge field of hardened lava spreading out into the valley below the volcano. As we rounded the last corner we had an amazing view of the lava flowing red-hot out of a recently formed cone. When we got up close we could hear the crackle of the lava flowing. It sounded like clay shingles falling off of a roof, or like the tinkle of metallic sound-effects in a B movie. In between dodging blocks of steaming rock, we got up close to one of the lower lava flows to roast some enormous marshmallows over the heat. After the long hike, these marshmallows were delicious.
On the way down, I learned a little bit about Manuel's life in Guatemala. He is from San Antonio, a town adjacent to the village we visited yesterday. He told me that learning English completely changed his life. Before he was a guide, he worked on a farm and carried all of his loads of vegetables or firewood on his back like the villagers we have seen in Santa Maria. He taught himself English by reading and watching American movies; the other guides would not teach him English words because they did not want more competition. His persistence has paid off, because he was an excellent guide for us today and Fred was asking if he could be booked for a repeat trip next week.
We returned to Casa Sito around 4:30, leaving us enough time for a siesta and shower before we go out for a unique cultural dish, pizza.
Patrick Fuller
