2nd Amendment

While last weekend's trip to Volcán Acatenango was a brutal, soul crushing experience in many aspects, it was not without its moments of glory, beauty, and fun.

Glory for conquering what at times seemed unconquerable.

Beauty in the paisajes and scenery that surrounded us.

And fun for the guns.

Don’t get to thinking that I trekked a day and a half with 10 Guatemalan soldiers armed with automatics, pistols, and machetes and did not bother to ask to at least feel the power of cold, hard death in my hands.

Before making our descent Sunday morning from the campsite our security detail got a bit restless waiting on our group to pack up. While my good Canadian friend Kat and I run on good old North American values, like punctuality, our Chapin counterparts were running behind schedule (surprise, surprise). While Kat took to snapping photos of her bag of Beef Jerky at 4,000 meters above sea level to pass the time, the soldiers had a better idea in mind.

Kat's photo shoot with the Jerky

A few, giddy soldiers made their way to a small hill by our campsite and I began to wonder what was stirring. I soon heard, “We’re gonna go shoot some shit if anyone is interested…” (loose translation), and like a good American I sprang into action.

At such altitudes we quickly realized there was nothing much to actually shoot at. Options included: 1) a grassy shrub, 2) some lava ash, and 3) the clouds. As none of these were neither exciting nor logical, we were excited when someone finally rummaged up an empty can of beans. With blustery winds at the top of the volcano it was hard to get the can to stay still, but nothing was going to rain on this shooting parade and some determined soldiers put the defenseless can into place.

Guatemalan soldier firing at nothingness

Soldiers went one by one: Shoot. Miss. Pass the gun. Repeat. Not too impressed by the accuracy of their shots I began to see why Guatemala might be losing the war against better-trained, Mexican drug cartels. With credit given to their argument that the strong winds affect the bullet’s trajectory, I respectfully remain skeptical of Guatemala’s GI Joes.

However, I of course was not much better at all. I completely missed the target and your guess is as good as mine as to where that bullet ended up after making its way over the volcano-side. However, none of that takes away from the glory of firing my first *real firearm.

Me shooting just as poorly

*The Emeott household did have at least 2 BB Guns while growing up, which certainly do not classify as real firearms. As an aside, this is certainly one of the most unsafe purchases a family can make for boys ranging in ages 9-15. Two instances come to mind in support of this assessment: 1) placing a willing friend into a large cardboard drum so we could shoot at him in our own version of “shooting fish in a barrel,” and 2) arming 1 friend with the BB Gun and another neighborhood friend with a bow & arrow, so we could have them “play” Cowboys & Indians. “Play” defined as the two running around our backyard shooting their respective weapons at each other until 1 surrendered.

Note: the friend designated to play the Indian is of Middle Eastern descent, which was an innocent mistake at the time and not racial profiling due to his brown skin.

We then took advantage of the next few minutes before descending from the volcano to snap a few power photos. Not able to fire the automatic weapon, I still felt pretty big just holding that guy in my cold, dead hands!

Protecting the volcano

Kat and her guitar

Speaking of Sherpas

My older brother Brian moved to Nepal earlier this year with his wife and has braved higher altitudes than I.

Check out their recent adventure on the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal here. Really cool pictures of impressive mountains and landscapes as well as great tips for the amateur hiker looking to perhaps tackle Mt. Everest soon.

Their experiences during multiple hikes in Nepal served as inspiration (as well as helpful advice) before tackling Volcán Acatenango. Plus, they have plenty of cool stories to share from Nepal on a very frequent basis.

Swing by and check them out: http://www.thekathmanduo.com/

Plus, a cool banner designed by my other brother, Luke.

Sherpa

This past weekend a friend of mine from work and I had the chance to go on a volcano climb/hike with some local Guatemalan friends. Atacanango is the third highest point in Guatemala (and all of Central America) clocking in at roughly 4,000 meters above sea level. Compare that to Mt. Everest at a nearly impossible 8,800 Meters, Atacanango is not much to brag about; however, compared to Volcán Tajumulco, the highest point in Central America (also in Guatemala) at 4,220 meters, it’s not to be taken lightly.

Acatenango (middle peak) on a bus ride from Antigua

Especially if you’re not an avid hiker, Acatenango is not to be taken lightly. I’ve gone on a few day hikes through Shanendoah National Park outside of the Washington DC area as well as a steep 3 hour hike to the top of Volcan Pacaya (2,500 meters, by the way for those of you keeping score at home), so I had a little hiking experience to get me through the beast of Acatenango.

Our trip started at 4 AM in Guatemala City as I was told we would be picked up by my friend and on our way out to Chimaltenango after a quick stop by her house to gather everyone and their belongings. Not surprised by the tardiness given they all run on Latino Time, I stayed calm as we departed one and a half hours beyond schedule. Not without the usual “oops, I forgot something…” we had to make a return trip home before finally setting off towards the volcano for good.

Upon arrival to Chimaltenango (the city where Volcán Acatenango rests), we were greeted by a truck of 10 soldiers who accompanied us on a drive to the base of the volcano. We parked our cars, gathered our packs and began what would be a hellish trek to the top.

Our security detail once at the top of the first volcano peak, Yepocapa

Only with a general knowledge that this would not be a stroll through the park and last roughly 7 hours, I was not quite sure what to expect regarding the level of difficulty. After the first 30 minutes I was winded and one of our group members was ready to call it quits, which quickly helped me to realize that this was no joke. Knowing that much worse lied ahead, I was a bit worried and had to dig deep to find some resolve to keep on keepin’ on.

Soldiers marching as we made our way towards the volcano (masked in the clouds)

The beginning of the trek took us uphill through the volcano’s forest for a good 2-3 hours before reaching the tree line and stopping for lunch. Always one to pride myself on packing light, I took down some snack foods (granola bar, peanuts, juice box) and mooched off my well-prepared friend who was the star of the lunch hour for having brought a jar of peanut butter.

Roughly another hour upwards after lunch and we made it to a small cabin along the trail that marked the beginning of the end for me.  Here we took a small break and you could begin to see where the volcano finally reached its end, although what looked to not be so far, was in reality a steep 2-3 hour climb to the first crater and easily the hardest leg of the hike. With constant reminders to not quit on myself, I hiked on through the fog (at this point we were level with the clouds) despite constant blows to my determination. Never having climbed the volcano before, it was impossible to know just how much further we had to go, which became very taxing mentally.

Making our way towards the top through the clouds

Looking up into more clouds and thinking that I'd finally be done after this last hour push up the volcano side, proved to be a tease at least 3 different times during my homestretch. Another hard push up the trail would reveal a new view of the top and with it another long stretch of trail, sitting up high and taunting me down below. Foolish for believing the accompany soldiers who would remind me “ya casi” (“we’re almost there”), I began to question why anyone would subject themselves to this. However, not one to let up I continued on and was 2^nd to reach the top behind a young spry soldier who led the way.

View of the final stretch to the top and steep incline

At the top we were greeted with winds and magnificent views of the clouds all around us. Having forgotten that the volcano has 2 peaks, I was surprised to see more volcano ahead of me when reaching what I had thought was the top. Relieved to have reached out final point for the day, I was a bit unsettled knowing that we would soon have to tackle another tough climb.

View of Pico Mayor (main peak) from Yepocapa (lower peak) 

We set up camp for the night and I was surprised by how windy and cold it was (as my Canadian friend put it in regards to the cold, “Is this Canada?”). Unfortunately, more surprising than the cold were the tents we were to use for the night. I failed to snap some photos, but we were using old-school canvas, army tents lent to us by the soldiers who accompanied us, which I can only assume have been in use since 1910.

My friend and I balled up in our respective sleeping bags wearing as much clothing as possible for our 8 PM bed time and braved what can only be described as the worst, most uncomfortable sleep of our lives. If it wasn’t the unforgiving lava ash underneath us, or the unbearable cold, or the pair of friends snoring all night in the tent next to us, it was the worst headache I’ve ever experienced in my life due to the change in altitude that would not allow me to fall asleep.

Saved by some ibuprofen brought along in our first-aid kit, I managed to get a little shut-eye, but vowed I would not join the others for their 5 AM wake up call to climb the highest peak of the volcano that loomed over us. However, as everyone started shaking a leg at 5 AM with the glow of flashlights that reminded me of lightsabers, I realized I would not be able to live with myself for being that guy who sat this one out and got so close to the top, but didn’t finish the hike. Under the starlit sky we descended from our crater and made our way over to the main peak for an early morning climb.

Sunrise view from the top of Acatenango

The experience gained from the previous day made this climb a bit more manageable mentally, but nonetheless was exhausting. The final stretch leading to the top was a narrow trail of ash that not only dangerously hugged the rim of an old, blown-out crater, but was loose and slippery making each step potentially deathly as well as minimal towards reaching the top. Despite not having to carry heavy packs during this jaunt, the incline was demanding and nearly broke me. I’ve named it the Trail of Tears as it literally brought our 12 year old group member to tears as he pushed on with the support of the rest of us. At this moment I took a second to reflect on what I was doing at his age back in June of 1996 and realized he was a lot more of a man than me compared to my days of sitting in my air conditioned house watching Saved By The Bell reruns and eating ice cream.

Screech

Despite the hellish climb, we made it to the top and were rewarded with the most impressive views and sunrise that I have ever seen. The soothing scenery that engulfed me at what felt like the top of all of Guatemala made the exhausting trip worth it. After conquering the highest peak of Atacanango, down was the only direction to go and so we packed up and descended the volcano.

View from Pico Mayor (our campsite in the lower left corner, Low Peak)

Volcan Fuego next door erupting

Although faster than climbing up (took us nearly half the amount of time), the descent is a workout just as intense, if not more than the way up. Having to painstakingly take each step with caution (lest ye slip & slide down the steep inclines) wears on the feet and thighs. Equally as painful is the mental concentration needed with each step. However, the excitement of making your way off the volcano and back home to the comfort of your bed helps make the descent that much easier.

La Cruz

Surrounding the city of Antigua are some impressive volcanoes, which are not something I am used to experiencing in my topography coming from the state of Michigan and living in the swamp of Washington DC. To the south is Volcan Agua, which gives great views each morning as I walk to work and the sky is clear of any clouds.

To the northern end is not a volcano, but some serious hilly terrain (I hesitate to use the term "mountainous" as one of my brothers now lives in Nepal, surrounded by the Himalayan Mountains, which put any Guatemalan "mountains" to shame). Anyhow, a quick 10 minute walk from my house and I am at the foot of said hilly terrain, called Cerro de la Cruz, or hill with the cross (sounds more elegant in Spanish, eh?). A footpath snakes its way up the hillside and within a quick 10 minutes a lookout can be found. A clear view overlooking the city of Antigua from the north is your reward for a the quick jaunt up the mountain's stair-master.

  View of Antigua from Cerro de la Cruz (Volcan Agua in the background)

Overlooking the city you get some exquisite views of the colonial town of Antigua vibrant with its bright yellow buildings and red roofs peppered throughout the town. 

La Cruz

Hiking up the hill is not very demanding and reaching the top offers a quaint place to relax, read a book, soak up the nice view, and enjoy a nice breeze. Although I have now been up to the cross 3-4 times now, I can't recall the exact date it was erected, nor the backstory as to its significance or why it was placed on this hill in the first place. Some quick research tells me it might date back as far as the 1620's, but another trip in the near future will have to be made to confirm that.

View of the Cross/Lookout from Antiguan streets

Walking through the streets of Antigua it is not hard to spot the cross as it sits perched above the city keeping watch. I snapped this photo around 4th or 3rd Avenue while walking home from work the other day, which helps give some perspective. The cross is faintly visible in the cleared patch of land on the hillside just above the second lamp post to the left of the photo.

Hippy Look-Out

The other weekend two friends and I embarked on a Sunday afternoon journey to see Earth Lodge. Sounds pretty cool, right? Hitting the nose on the whole "green" thing these days and catering to the inner hippy/backpacker in us all, Earth Lodge is a nice little hostel nestled up in the mountains above Antigua.

Given it was a lazy Sunday with plenty of sunshine, my friends and I decided it would be a worthwhile use of our time to walk up the mountain pass to Earth Lodge and see what it was all about. Rumors of a laid back scene complete with horseshoes, live music, beer, and free spirits aplenty, we were excited about what lied ahead.

Originally we planned to attempt hitchhiking up the mountain, which I'm estimating would easily be a 45 minute uphill jaunt, but upon first sight of a tuk-tuk we bargained a decent price and made our way up the beast of a hill.

Guatemalan tuk-tuk

While the engine almost gave out carting 3 grown men (plus our portly pilot), we eventually made it to the top after about 12 minutes. Some more weaving through the dirt paths atop the mountain and we arrived at Earth Lodge. Thinking to myself that this place must have one hell of a reputation if people are going to trek all this way for a place to crash for a few nights, I had high hopes.

My friend ran into an acquaintance immediately as we walked onto the Earth Lodge patio area complete with some picnic tables and wooden lawn chairs, who told us we had made it to the last Sunday Picnic in what they had been doing each Sunday for a a few weeks/months. Now that rainy season/"winter" was coming (May-September), this would be the last picnic for a while. We put our burger order in with the grill master, grabbed a few beers, and enjoyed the live music that was put on by a local band.

As we sipped away a man approached us with his spiel on raising money for a local school that Earth Lodge partners with and does some really great work for. Employees and friends of Earth Lodge seem to have single handedly built this school with volunteer hours and fundraising drives, so we listened intently as he gave us his latest pitch to raise some cash for the school. 

"For 30 Q ($4.50) you can take this slip of paper and write any suggestion you want for our drawing," he told us. "Our friend came up with this crazy idea and he's ready to go through with it today, so we're taking suggestions for the next hour or so with your donations." I took a glance at his jar-o-tips and pieced it together that this friend he spoke of was getting a tattoo for charity and apparently with your 30 Q donation you were entitled to enter your suggestion for his ink right there in that little jar he carried around. Where was he going to get the tattoo? On the inside of his lower lip (ouch).

Having the freedom to suggest anything was crippling. It was a blank check that I was ill prepared to take advantage of. "Anything you want, man..." repeated the guy, which only brought upon more pressure. "'I like boys,' 'Viva Guatemala,' and my personal fav, 'Enter here,'" were just some of the examples the guy listed for me to get my creative juices flowing. Pressure, or the guilt of ruining that guys life/lip forever, overcame me and I thought it wiser to pass on the opportunity.

Unfortunately, we didn't stick around long enough to see the tattooing of the guys lip and thus will never know what the final message was, but we did catch some peaceful views from high above Antigua.

Misty view of Antigua

Colin (short hair) pensive, Earth Lodge above (red roof), hippy bunker made of sand bags to the left

Colin (long hair) contemplating the meaning of life

More Holiness

Semana Santa came and went in Antigua and overall the experience was pleasant. Generally, the streets were more alive than is regularly experienced during a normal week and there was even a vibe that I got which reminded me of a good old county fair back at home during a Michigan summer. This had nothing to do with the Easter celebrations nor the exaltations surrounding Jesus being resurrected, but instead, and more simply, everything to do with all the street vendors in the parks.

 Food Vendor in "Pila Park"

Delicious, delicious food. Vendors fill parks around town and people flock for socializing and a good bite to eat. Normally - and this is what we advise all of our Habitat volunteers - foreigners avoid all street food. If you've ever had food poisoning or Traveler's Diarrhea (or perhaps better known to you as "Montezuma's Revenge," "The Aztec Two-Step," "The Gringo Gallop," "Gandhi's Revenge," "Delhi Belly") than you know where I am coming from.  

Fortunately, for this gringo street food is not an issue, so dig in I must. Steak sandwiches smothered in mayo, ketchup, guacamole, and any fix'ns you want, hot dogs done latino style, tacos, pupusas (which my good Salvadoran friend will argue are done ALL WRONG here in Guatemala), and elote loco ("crazy corn" on the cob covered with mayo, ketchup, mustard, and cheese - disgusting, right? WRONG) are just some of the tasty treats you'll find for cheap. Top all that off with a sweet churro (deep fried dough covered in sugar) and you can't help but feel like you just took a stroll through your local county fair on a summer night. Complete with hawkers selling trinkets, toys, and balloons to all the little kids, all that seems to be missing is the ferris wheel (and thank God, because "public safety" or "regulation" are terms not exactly in the Central American vocabulary). Someday I'll have to share my extraordinary experience about the time I survived on a Matterhorn-ish ride in Mexico....

 Locals enjoying street vendors & the park

Throughout the week various processions passed through the streets with floats of Jesus and the Virgin Mary. I was even lucky enough to catch the ridiculing of and eventual death of Judas':

 Judas' public shamer

Dead Judas

Processions carried on with devotees carrying large floats upon their shoulders:

Cucuruchos carrying a float of Jesus bearing the cross

And Semana Santa culminated with Easter Sunday celebrations with much the same fanfare:

 Easter float

Children carrying a small Easter float

Alfombras continued to be made in the streets and we even had a group of Habitat volunteers in town for the celebration, so we made two Habitat themed alfombras (using saw dust dyed by hand, pine needles, chocolate, flowers, etc):

 Habitat For Humanity Alfombra

So, while disappointed to learn there is no such thing as an Easter Bunny down here in Guatemala and even though I didn't have a single Reese's Peanut Butter Egg, the new customs were a pleasure to experience and the churros more than held me over.

Semana Santa

Growing up I am sure we all had our own special ways of celebrating Easter. Personally, I was raised Catholic, which included all the excitement  of Lent, Confession, The Passion, etc. and even for those who were raised similarly I am sure the traditions and celebrations varied slightly or had their own special flavor. Of course, religious or not, this all traditionally came to a climax on Easter Sunday when children all over the US awoke to tear through their homes in search of the coveted Easter Basket left hidden by the lovable and cuddly Easter Bunny. Highlights included Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs and Starburst Jellybeans while (depending where you fall on the Easter candy spectrum) low points always included Peeps and traditionally flavored jelly beans.

Source of my childhood obesity

Anyhow, Semana Santa (Holy Week) has begun here in Guatemala, starting with Palm Sunday. Generally speaking, the same stories/history apply regarding the Catholic teachings, but the flavor down here is certainly different. Whereas the overall culture back at home in the US focuses more on the non-denominational/irreligious aspects of Easter and that cuddly Bunny, the populace here is more united under the religious meaning of the holiday. Personally, I much preferred to focus on the Easter Bunny as a child because my church held a Good Friday Mass complete with a full reenactment of The Passion of the Christ with a large group of mimes donned in all black and white face paint. Let's just say that it gave me a nightmare or two growing up....

   Scary mime

Antigua, where I live, is a hotspot for Holy Week in Guatemala and even around all of Central America. Beginning with Lent local churches begin having processions each Sunday leading up to Easter and as the date nears, the processions and celebrations intensify. With such attractions calling visitors to Antigua the city becomes alive for better and worse. A small town full of one way streets, you can imagine how fun traffic and parking is. Thankfully this gringo moves on foot.

Last night I was able to snap some photos for the Palm Sunday procession that happened at night (so excuse the dark photos).

Cucuruchos

The streets are absolutely filled (the pictures don't quite do it justice) with devoted worshippers in their purple robes called Cucuruchos, not to be confused with a similar sounding word "cucarachas" or cockroaches.

Large floats are made weeks/months in advance for these processions which depict Jesus carrying the cross. Cucuruchos take turns carrying these huge floats throughout the streets, ultimately ending at the main Cathedral. Yeah, that's right - carrying. They go old school here and carry these floats that can weigh up to 7,000 lbs on their shoulders, which I am guessing is no coincidence in regards to its symbolism of Christ bearing the cross. 

Cucuruchos and others flooding the streets

Another tradition here is to create alfombras, or carpets, in the streets for these processions to walk upon. These are decorative spreads in the cobblestone streets of Antigua made from sand, dyed saw dust, pine needles, flowers, fruit, etc. Certainly adds a nice touch to the streets.

Cucuruchos by an alfombra lit by candles

People putting together an alfombra on 5th Avenue

I took some video of the procession passing by, but lamentablamente could not post here because the file was too large/taking too long to upload. I'll have to snap some photos of these impressive floats later this week as there are certain to be more. Let's just hope I don't run across any mimes...