I have been in Virginia for less than 48 hours yet it has been enough time for me to go absolutely crazy enjoying the rebirth of nature and the flowers abound. I am concerned that I have become a tad bit obsessive but the spring flowers here are so spectacular that I can hardly stand it. So here it is. An entire post on the sensational flowers I saw today in a garden in Colonial Williamsburg. Hope you enjoy!
Like most Guatemalan cities, Quetzaltenango (Xela) is centered around a large glorious Catholic church. Espiritu Santo Cathedral was founded in 1535 after the Spanish conquered the city of Xela and has remained the heart and blood of the city ever since. It is located in the parque centroamerica and can be seen well above the city from numerous vantage points.
Although Guatemala is predominantly Catholic, many other religions have established themselves throughout the country thanks to missionaries. You can find loads of evangelist churches and even Mennonite communities as well as Mormons. In fact, you can find any religious establishment except Jewish or Muslim. For some reason, I found this surprising.
Most churches in Guatemala are either dove white or brilliant yellow-gold. The architecture was sensational of course and the churches instantly became a focus of my attention for numerous pictures. Here are some of my favorites.
Here is Xela’s centerpiece, Espiritu Santo.
It is not possible to wake up at 4:30 am, hike a volcano and not follow up with an immediate visit to most popular natural spa in all of Guatemala. The plan to go immediately to Fuentes Georginas proceeding my volcano climb popped into my head during the knee-aching, slippery descent of Santa Maria. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the remainder of the day, rewarding my tired body and soul, and soaking in one of the four hot pools of Fuentes Georginas located in the mountains nearby.
View from the Top: Xela lies thousands of feet below.
“Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory.” -Ed Viesturs climber and author of “No Shortcuts to the Top: Climbing the World’s 14 Highest Peaks”
After my surreal experience on top of Santa Maria volcano, witnessing my first live volcanic eruption just a few thousand feet below my perch on a jagged rock, it was time to say goodbye. Heading back is always the anti-climax of a hike, especially a good one in which you reach your peak and for that moment in time you are on top of the world. But as I always say, all good things must come to an end. It was time to head back.
The start of our descent….you can see terraced farmland first, followed by the town of Xela far below.
Photo above from Shot@Life Campaign literature. I adore this photo of the beautiful children who look so happy despite their poverty. They are still just kids.
So what does it take to be a Shot@Life Champion? What exactly is a Shot@Life Champion? Why do I care? Why should you care?
“No matter how sophisticated you may be, a large granite mountain cannot be denied — it speaks in silence to the very core of your being”. —-Ansel Adams
Around 10:30, five hours after starting our hike up the dark and slippery path of the Santa Maria Volcano we had finally arrived at her pointed peak. The clouds had started to form and blanket the valley of Xela thousands of miles below. Yet fortunately they hadn’t fully conquered the peak. There was still a spectacular view of the surrounding volcanoes and valley beneath.
As we approached our resting spot for an early lunch I was perplexed by a low humming sound. The sound of voices, high and low, big and small, filled up the empty open space around me. As we come closer to the noise I realized with amazement that it was a human chain of chanting. The Mayans were singing their prayers to their gods. The voices of their chants flowed smoothly together making a monotonous tone at times, entrancing me and captivating my soul.
“The Beauty of the Mountain is hidden for all those who try to discover it from the top, supposing that, one way or an other, one can reach this place directly. The Beauty of the Mountain reveals only to those who climbed it…” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery
View of the grand Santa Maria volcano off in the distance as I was leaving Xela via shuttle on my way to Antigua.
There are things you’ll experience in Guatemala that will stay with you forever: the smell of a freshly grilled tortilla; the assault-on-all-senses of a jungle trek; the people you bump into on the road and become lifelong friends…..In the west, a volcano looms on almost every horizon, almost begging to be climbed. (Opening lines in the introduction to Guatemala, Lonely Planet 2010).
It was with these words, “almost begging to be climbed” that I joyously opted to skip my already-paid for Spanish class on Wednesday and wake up at the break of dawn to climb Guatemala’s fourth highest volcano, Santa Maria (elevation 3772 m/12,375 feet). It didn’t matter that I was utterly exhausted nor that I didn’t have the right gear. All that mattered was there was an enormously, inviting volcano begging to be climbed. There was no way I wasn’t going to climb it.
I have never before seen such an enormous symphony of color as I did in Guatemala. The past Spanish colonial influence combined with the vivid Mayan culture and tradition of brilliant colors reflect deeply throughout Guatemala, especially in the Highlands. Xela is the heart of the Mayan culture and community. If you take a walk around her lovely, hilly streets you will be reminded of her past, present and future. You can see it reflected in the lovely colors of the buildings. Some of which are on their fourth generation of color.
Come….take a walk with me through the streets of Xela and experience all the joy that color can bring to the soul.
Looking up to the hills. A typical street in Xela lined in ancient foot-burning cobblestones and a gorgeous splash of color.
From golden yellows to turquoise blues the colors never cease to inspire me and make me smile. Above is a cheerful looking “Tortilleria” where fresh tortillas are made from scratch and grilled hot before your eyes.
As you can see, there are many gorgeous colors to capture and many more to come….
Spring has come a month early this year in Minnesota. After an unseasonably warm winter with hardly any snow to amply cover the ground or build a snowman, Spring has launched full force in what most people consider “Minne-snowta“.
The ice off nearby city lakes such as my beloved Lake Harriet faded into our memories almost a month early. The trees are in full bloom and the allergy index is high. My eyes are itching, my nose is running and I have desperately scrambled to unpack my summer cloths while the temperatures soar on average 30-40 degrees higher than normal. The average high for today of 44 degrees F is a long ago memory as each and every day another record is set and it feels like June.
In fact, it seems like we just skipped past Spring all together and jumped into summer. But the telltale signs of the trees, bushes and flowers in full bloom reminds me that yes it is still spring. The spectacular showing of brilliant reborn green has been making my eyes water as I marvel at their sensational beauty and watch the world around me come back to life. It gives me joy, inspiration and miraculous hope for the future as I witness the rebirth of Spring and embrace the phenomenal changing of the seasons that encompass the circle of life.
Here are some of my favorite photos I took today during my morning walk around Minnehaha Creek and Lake Harriet nearby my home.
One of the reasons why I wanted to go to Guatemala was to volunteer. For the last two years, I have been passionate about volunteering internationally and giving back to the countries in which I have had the pleasure of visiting. It has inspired me, motivated me and changed me to become the person I am today. And I must admit, I am proud of that fact.
Two years ago, I went on my first volunteer trip with Cross-Cultural Solutions (CCS) to Costa Rica where I worked at a nursing home for abandoned grandparents (to read posts, click here). Then last April, I traveled to Morocco again with CCS to volunteer at a women’s school and help tutor English. I loved both of these volunteer experiences as they truly changed my life. However after two years of doing volunteer work as a group I wanted to try venturing out on my own. I had traveled abroad alone before yet never for an extended period of time. I felt like there was no time like the present to give it a whirl and truly challenge myself. I just needed to find the right place.
When my son Max started first grade at Burroughs Community School in Minneapolis my opportunity arose. Max’s first grade teacher, Ms. May, just so happens to be married to a Guatemalan man and together they have run a Spanish School called Casa Xelaju and a nearby community center, La Pedrera, for years. My opportunity had come! Guatemala was on my travel list and after falling in love with Costa Rica, I could hardly wait to visit another Central American country, especially one with a vibrant indigenous community, the Mayans.
Photo above of me with my little girls. These three girls are the same age as my daughter Sophia. I adored them and their smiles brightened my soul and warmed my heart.
View of Xela from the school roof.
I woke up to the sound of the eternally barking dog outside my window, wondering for a moment where on earth I was. I checked my cheap plastic travel watch and it read 6:50 am. The sun had yet to light up my bedroom and I was exhausted after a fitful night’s sleep. I tossed and turned, continually stuffed in my ear plugs and cranked my white noise up yet nothing seemed to help drown out the symphony of noise from the Guatemalan city life. Unfortunately I’ve always been a light sleeper which got worse after I became a mother. I swear I sleep with one eye open, listening throughout the darkness of the night for someone to call my name.
My first day at Spanish school was in a little over an hour and I was so tired I had no idea how I’d function, let alone function in another language which I hardly understood. When I turned off my white noise the sounds of a bustling kitchen filled the room. I inhaled the delightful aroma of fresh Guatemalan cooking. Breakfast would not be long.
I slowly cracked opened the door and shyly peered outside. My room for the week was right next to the kitchen and the family-shared bathroom. I was still in my PJs in an unfamiliar house with unfamiliar people. I wasn’t ready to go tramping out the door in plain view of my Guatemalan hosts! That I reserve for only close friends!
When the coast was clear I made a run for the bathroom and brushed my teeth in a glass of purified water. There was no way I was going to risk getting another parasite like I did in Costa Rica! Thus I took every precaution given to me by the travel clinic seriously. I avoided fresh fruits and vegetables. Did not drink the water, and brushed my teeth as well only with the bottled stuff. I flipped on the strange looking shower and got ready to jump in, thinking how good it will feel to wash my hair after a long day of travel. Maybe the hot water would even wake me up and make me feel better! I needed any kind of pick me up to start my day in another tongue.
The moment Luis Enrique rung the doorbell to the tall, green house my stomach dropped in anticipation. What would they be like, my host family for the week? Would they speak any English? Or would they understand my Rosetta Stone beginner level Spanish? Would the house be comfortable? Would I feel awkward and uncomfortable? All these thoughts loomed my head as I waited and waited for the door to open. It felt like an eternity.
Finally after a couple more rings, the door opened. I secretly gave a sigh of relief. I was tired, dirty and hungry. Plus I was eager to meet my new host family who I had heard all about from Ms. May, my son’s school teacher back home who runs the exchange program for Casa Xelaju.
The door creaked open and a dog barked. A young man answered the door and some words were exchanged briefly in gunfire Spanish. All I understood was “Nicole” (my name), “si” and “uno momento por favor”. I entered the dark house to silence and pulling in my enormous red suitcase. I was told to wait there for a moment in the long, narrow hallway, and there I stood for another five minutes waiting for the matron of the house.
