Panajachel, Guatemala, 12/10/07-12/12/07

Panajachel, more commonly known as Pana, and derogatorily known as "Gringotenango", is a tourist trap of a town on Lago de Atitlan. Lago de Atitlan is beautiful lake in the southwest of Guatemala between Xela and Antigua. The lake is ringed with 3 dormant volcanoes and is itself a crater lake.

The things to do in Panajachel are look at the lake, take a boat across the lake to other little towns, and hike. Unfortunately, due to robberies and the like, one needs to hike with an armed policeman provided by the government. I usually like to hike, but somehow thought that the serenity of the natural beauty would be spoiled by the presence of an armed guard.

I stayed two nights in Pana in a hotel on the lake shore. My room was on the upper floor and had a great view of the lake and volcanoes. Well, except when I woke that first morning to see freshly washed towels strung in front of my window.

I went to the lake shore the first day to watch the sunset. Who should wander by but a guy I was talking to at the hot springs a day or two before.

I had dinner at a restaurant whose front was open to th street. While waiting for my food, people would come by trying to sell things. One of the child vendors saw my PDA and was obviously curios. He was maybe 8. He went to the other side of the table and looked some more, not hiding his curiosity as an adult would. He asked if he could see it. I showed him the screen which had the solitaire game I was playing. He came back around to the other side and I kind of shooed him off. He was back a moment later on his way out of the restaurant and asked if he could have a piece of the buttery toasted bread that was sitting in the basket at my table. I said that he could and he quickly grabbed one and ran away like a squirrel scampering off with a proffered nut. Several minutes later after my food came, another kid came by. He was sort of standing at a little distance and saying something. He would sort of say it coyly and dart away. I realized that he was asking if he could have some bread. I guess word got around. I asked if he wanted a piece, he said yes, and I held the basket out for him. He grabbed one and ran off, kind of giggling. For this kid, I think it was more a game than a desire for the bread. I didn't mind. I was entertained.

The next morning I decided to walk to the next town. When I left, I carried only the bare essentials and my cell phone. I did not want anything vital stolen if I was robbed on the way. This meant leaving the camera at home. The walk was fine, but no real glorious views materialized. When I got to Santa Catarina Palopo, I walked to the shore. It was a beautiful view. When I sat near the water's edge and saw the volcanoes framed by willow branches with tufts of water grass in the foreground, I really wished that I had had my camera.

I decided to have lunch at the little restaurant overlooking the lake there. It was more for the view than because I was hungry. I was the only person in the place. This was definitely not another "Gringotenango".

On the walk back, I passed some kids sitting on piles of firewood. I remembered them from the walk there. The oldest was probably 12. As I approached, he asked, "Agua pura?"

"No, gracias," I said, thinking he was trying to sell me some water.

"No," he said. "For me."

I still had a lot of water left so I pulled the bottle out of the plastic bag I was carrying. He drank enthusiastically and handed it to the two other little boys. They handed me back the little that was left.

As they drank, I asked if they were out here all day with no drinking water. He said yes and I clucked my tongue as they drank. I don't know if that was true or if they were just trying to see if they could get the gringo to give them water. But they seemed genuinely thirsty. The oldest (who did all the talking) asked where I was from.

I went back home and chilled. After a while, I realized that it had gotten dark and I was missing the sunset. I ran to the rooftop to watch the remains of the sunset. As I watched the sun setting behind the volcanoes, I had this burst of appreciation of how lucky I am. Not that many people have had the chance to see the things that I have.

That night, after dinner, I had the waiter pack my leftover pizza in case some kid wanted it. I went to use the net, and sure enough some kid came in with his baby sister on his back. He asked for something and I asked if he wanted pizza. He took it, but a little hesitantly, and then told me to buy him a coke. I said, no I wasn't buying anything.