Here are a bunch of pictures from when our friends Max and Ana Paula were with us.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
San Pedro La Laguna
This place has been so good to us that we´re still here. The movies really coming along well. Mostly its featuring people, events, and places around lago Atitlan. One of the most beautiful places in the world. We´ve made a lot of friends here so this is where we plan to be for Christmas. Today were heading across the lake to spend the day in Panajachel, then we´re heading to Antigua for a few days, and then to Chichicastenango for the solstice celebration there. Back here by the 22nd. Thats about all I´m putting down for now. All the crazy, wild, and out of control that we´ve come across here should be in the movie so no need to write it out for now. Otherwise we´re all doing well, if we know you we miss you, and we´ll see you somewhat soon. Heading back up north a week or two after the new year.
John
John
Monday, December 7, 2009
noticias del lago
Here are some news articles related to our trip
A short article about the problems with the lake
Thanksgiving earthquake
Mob violence in Sololá
Mob attack in Panahachel
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Back to Xela, Back to the lake
Volcan Santiagito
This is the story of the first real failure of the trip for me and the last time I will enter the jungle without a guide until the next time we go and do this in a week or two. We attemped a five hour hike through what looks like a grassy plain in the sahara, over several "Indiana Jones" bridges, and through a long stretch of jungle, packed full with sleeping bags, a tent, food, several liters of water, and very heavy filming equipment in order to film an eruption of the volcano Santiagito. As I had been to this place before I imagined that with a few simple directions and a poorly drawn map I could find my way. What I forgot about the jungle is that everything looks the same and is really hot and humid. Therefore after a five hour hike ending at dusk we had to make camp with no volcano in sight. By making camp I actually mean clearing down a section of jungle with a machete and building a fire place over a carcas of a dead vulture. Yes, even they don´t survive out there. The frustrating thing for me was that I could hear the volcano errupting all night and knew that we were extremely close. The frustrating thing for everyone else was that they wanted to kill me for making them do all this hard work for nothing but couldn´t bring themselves to do it.
On the bright side, we got up early in the morning, started hiking out, turned a corner and caught a great view of the this Moby Dick of the jungle, and set up to film the shot. That required clearing another section of jungle in order to get the right view which our dear friend Max was more than happing to help with. As soon as we were set up and the erruption began a helicopter flew over head (ironically as we had discussed renting one to get this shot but realized there are no helicopters in Guatemala)and covered the sound. After this several clouds rolled in and covered the volcano so we didn´t get the shot. Had to turn around and walk to the car.
We´ll be back.
Xela
Back in Xela we recover for a few days. Say good bye to Max and Ana Paula and Daniel and Rafael say hello to Montazuma´s revenge. The true Guatemalan experience. We are staying again at Casa Argentina but we move upstairs instead of next to the Quetzal Trekkers headquarters and it gets a lot nicer. Also get a TV that works. Be sure to watch lots of De Pelicula if you have cable.
Zunil
Tried to get off the road and talk to locals and farmers but they weren´t having it. We did some filming of the road and little town up to fuentes Georinas and also came across a festival in Zunil. More on that when the movies done or if I delete those scenes then I´ll tell you later.
San Andreas
More good luck with filming here and met some very helpfull folks including an anthropologist named James Mackenzie. Spent a couple days here. We ate the smallest Thanksgiving dinner of our lives. One egg, a little spaggetti, and two pieces of fried plantains. Que rico. It was with a family however that we had met in town and invited us in. It was 20 quetzales each.
Back to the lake
We are now back at Lago Atitlan and I´m getting tired of writing. Been here for a few days, got a new translator named Kayvan, and have been getting a lot accomplished. The lake is also looking and smelling a lot better than before but now people are bathing and swimming in it again even though it has been diagnost as toxic. Today I got a bad stomach but visited a man actually named Doctor Pizza who made me some kind of herbal tea that got me 90% back to good health. One of the worst things I´ve ever tasted. More to come on our stay here in the next one.
All is well. Miss you all.
John
This is the story of the first real failure of the trip for me and the last time I will enter the jungle without a guide until the next time we go and do this in a week or two. We attemped a five hour hike through what looks like a grassy plain in the sahara, over several "Indiana Jones" bridges, and through a long stretch of jungle, packed full with sleeping bags, a tent, food, several liters of water, and very heavy filming equipment in order to film an eruption of the volcano Santiagito. As I had been to this place before I imagined that with a few simple directions and a poorly drawn map I could find my way. What I forgot about the jungle is that everything looks the same and is really hot and humid. Therefore after a five hour hike ending at dusk we had to make camp with no volcano in sight. By making camp I actually mean clearing down a section of jungle with a machete and building a fire place over a carcas of a dead vulture. Yes, even they don´t survive out there. The frustrating thing for me was that I could hear the volcano errupting all night and knew that we were extremely close. The frustrating thing for everyone else was that they wanted to kill me for making them do all this hard work for nothing but couldn´t bring themselves to do it.
On the bright side, we got up early in the morning, started hiking out, turned a corner and caught a great view of the this Moby Dick of the jungle, and set up to film the shot. That required clearing another section of jungle in order to get the right view which our dear friend Max was more than happing to help with. As soon as we were set up and the erruption began a helicopter flew over head (ironically as we had discussed renting one to get this shot but realized there are no helicopters in Guatemala)and covered the sound. After this several clouds rolled in and covered the volcano so we didn´t get the shot. Had to turn around and walk to the car.
We´ll be back.
Xela
Back in Xela we recover for a few days. Say good bye to Max and Ana Paula and Daniel and Rafael say hello to Montazuma´s revenge. The true Guatemalan experience. We are staying again at Casa Argentina but we move upstairs instead of next to the Quetzal Trekkers headquarters and it gets a lot nicer. Also get a TV that works. Be sure to watch lots of De Pelicula if you have cable.
Zunil
Tried to get off the road and talk to locals and farmers but they weren´t having it. We did some filming of the road and little town up to fuentes Georinas and also came across a festival in Zunil. More on that when the movies done or if I delete those scenes then I´ll tell you later.
San Andreas
More good luck with filming here and met some very helpfull folks including an anthropologist named James Mackenzie. Spent a couple days here. We ate the smallest Thanksgiving dinner of our lives. One egg, a little spaggetti, and two pieces of fried plantains. Que rico. It was with a family however that we had met in town and invited us in. It was 20 quetzales each.
Back to the lake
We are now back at Lago Atitlan and I´m getting tired of writing. Been here for a few days, got a new translator named Kayvan, and have been getting a lot accomplished. The lake is also looking and smelling a lot better than before but now people are bathing and swimming in it again even though it has been diagnost as toxic. Today I got a bad stomach but visited a man actually named Doctor Pizza who made me some kind of herbal tea that got me 90% back to good health. One of the worst things I´ve ever tasted. More to come on our stay here in the next one.
All is well. Miss you all.
John
Friday, November 27, 2009
Onward to the Lake
San Pedro, Lake Atitlan
After a particularly treacherous drive through the volcanic hills surrounding Lake Atitlan, I notice the brakes on the van are beginning to fade. We hope it’s only because the brake fluid is boiling from overuse and not something worse. The next day, our trusty Mazda MPV gets some much-needed attention. We change the oil and check the fluids. Most everything seems ok. Except I notice some differential oil on the inside of one of the rear wheels. Turns out that one of the axle gaskets has broken and was leaking oil onto the rear brake. We get it fixed before it gets any worse, and thus we safely get through the first car problem after 4500 miles of driving. (Insert sound of knocking on wood.)
Lake Atitlan is a huge body of water formed by a ring of ancient volcanoes. It has always been considered a sacred place by the indigenous people, and, needless to say, it is a strikingly beautiful spot on this Earth. More recently, there has developed a serious bacterial infestation that has rendered the water incredibly toxic. The stench near the waterfront is unbearable. There are attempts by the locals to clean the lake, empty statements made by the government, and much speculation posed by everyone on the community. This whole situation is a great surprise to us and will be covered further in the movie.
Surrounding the lake are 12 small towns named after Jesus’ apostles. The influence of Catholicism is a constant in the local culture of Guatemala. In San Pedro, we stay at a home where we are each afforded our own room and we even have an outdoor kitchen. All for less than $2 a night! And after a couple days, we are even able to convince them to leave the water on at night. Great place.
Max and Ana Paula are a joy to travel with and have proven very useful for the movie as well. Their intelligence, humor and good spirits are great assets to the group. Also, it helps that they like to sit around and bullshit and drink Gallo (still our favorite local beer) and Old Friend (our newly-discovered favorite local whisky). The Dream Team.
We secure interviews with two local spiritual guides, Pedro Garcia and Feliciano Pop. Interesting stuff, if not exactly what we expected. They both ask for money after the interviews. This is going to be a common request among subjects. Not sure how I feel about it.
San Pedro has a good share of American and European tourists, and, as such, plenty of cheesy bars to accommodate them. There’s the “techno bar”, the “reggae bar”, etc. I’ve never heard so much Bob Marley in my life. One night, we decide to stay on the other side of town and hit a local bar. True to form, there is a guy passed out on the floor, the regular drink here being a pint of aguardiente. Of course, we 5 gringos are immediately noticed, providing a distraction from the Madonna songs and wall-to-wall filth that seem to be the norm of the place. When the proprietor, a middle aged woman who must be no taller than 5 ft, calls closing time, we leave. But not without being followed by a new friend we refer to as “Anthrax”. He is wearing an Anthrax t-shirt, so it seems appropriate. After he refuses to leave us to walk home, the moniker seems even more so. Through his drunken, broken English we hear tale of a crack addiction and an abusive mother. We don’t want him following us home, so we head on back to the tourist strip and ditch him at The Buddha Bar. Last I see, he is talking to a German girl who is passed out on the front porch.
A few days later, The Buddha Bar is showing a downloaded bootleg of “2012”. We agree that it’s better than “Day After Tomorrow” but not as quotable as “Independence Day”. Woody Harrelson is definitely a high point. To our relief, Anthrax did not attend the screening. Maybe he got lucky.
Santiago, Lake Atitlan
We have a very productive day traveling to another town across the lake, Santiago. We take a boat there and shoot along the way. Then we meet a young kid called Miguel that acts as our tour guide for the day. We shoot from the back of the pickup truck en route to our first stop in town. Great fun. He takes us to our first experience with a shrine to San Simon. Found only in Guatemala, these shrines generally involve some kind of wooden or plastic sculpture of a mustachioed man, surrounded by candles and decorations. Locals come to the shrine and make offerings of liquor, cigarettes and cash. There’s also usually some kind of ritual that involves chanting around a fire pit. Weird, interesting stuff that’s great on camera.
Later, we run across a Marimba band playing at a bar. To be more clear, the 9 piece group is crammed together on a second floor landing of an unfinished cinder-block building. This country has no shortage of character.
Fuentes Georginas
Beautiful pools fed by natural hot springs. Finally some hot water! We also get a bunch of food from the local market to cook on the grill outside our bungalows. Finally some proper hamburgers! We stay overnight here and have a very relaxing evening with the pools all to ourselves. We need the rest to prepare for our next adventure, the tackling of Volcan Santiaguito.
Until next time-
After a particularly treacherous drive through the volcanic hills surrounding Lake Atitlan, I notice the brakes on the van are beginning to fade. We hope it’s only because the brake fluid is boiling from overuse and not something worse. The next day, our trusty Mazda MPV gets some much-needed attention. We change the oil and check the fluids. Most everything seems ok. Except I notice some differential oil on the inside of one of the rear wheels. Turns out that one of the axle gaskets has broken and was leaking oil onto the rear brake. We get it fixed before it gets any worse, and thus we safely get through the first car problem after 4500 miles of driving. (Insert sound of knocking on wood.)
Lake Atitlan is a huge body of water formed by a ring of ancient volcanoes. It has always been considered a sacred place by the indigenous people, and, needless to say, it is a strikingly beautiful spot on this Earth. More recently, there has developed a serious bacterial infestation that has rendered the water incredibly toxic. The stench near the waterfront is unbearable. There are attempts by the locals to clean the lake, empty statements made by the government, and much speculation posed by everyone on the community. This whole situation is a great surprise to us and will be covered further in the movie.
Surrounding the lake are 12 small towns named after Jesus’ apostles. The influence of Catholicism is a constant in the local culture of Guatemala. In San Pedro, we stay at a home where we are each afforded our own room and we even have an outdoor kitchen. All for less than $2 a night! And after a couple days, we are even able to convince them to leave the water on at night. Great place.
Max and Ana Paula are a joy to travel with and have proven very useful for the movie as well. Their intelligence, humor and good spirits are great assets to the group. Also, it helps that they like to sit around and bullshit and drink Gallo (still our favorite local beer) and Old Friend (our newly-discovered favorite local whisky). The Dream Team.
We secure interviews with two local spiritual guides, Pedro Garcia and Feliciano Pop. Interesting stuff, if not exactly what we expected. They both ask for money after the interviews. This is going to be a common request among subjects. Not sure how I feel about it.
San Pedro has a good share of American and European tourists, and, as such, plenty of cheesy bars to accommodate them. There’s the “techno bar”, the “reggae bar”, etc. I’ve never heard so much Bob Marley in my life. One night, we decide to stay on the other side of town and hit a local bar. True to form, there is a guy passed out on the floor, the regular drink here being a pint of aguardiente. Of course, we 5 gringos are immediately noticed, providing a distraction from the Madonna songs and wall-to-wall filth that seem to be the norm of the place. When the proprietor, a middle aged woman who must be no taller than 5 ft, calls closing time, we leave. But not without being followed by a new friend we refer to as “Anthrax”. He is wearing an Anthrax t-shirt, so it seems appropriate. After he refuses to leave us to walk home, the moniker seems even more so. Through his drunken, broken English we hear tale of a crack addiction and an abusive mother. We don’t want him following us home, so we head on back to the tourist strip and ditch him at The Buddha Bar. Last I see, he is talking to a German girl who is passed out on the front porch.
A few days later, The Buddha Bar is showing a downloaded bootleg of “2012”. We agree that it’s better than “Day After Tomorrow” but not as quotable as “Independence Day”. Woody Harrelson is definitely a high point. To our relief, Anthrax did not attend the screening. Maybe he got lucky.
Santiago, Lake Atitlan
We have a very productive day traveling to another town across the lake, Santiago. We take a boat there and shoot along the way. Then we meet a young kid called Miguel that acts as our tour guide for the day. We shoot from the back of the pickup truck en route to our first stop in town. Great fun. He takes us to our first experience with a shrine to San Simon. Found only in Guatemala, these shrines generally involve some kind of wooden or plastic sculpture of a mustachioed man, surrounded by candles and decorations. Locals come to the shrine and make offerings of liquor, cigarettes and cash. There’s also usually some kind of ritual that involves chanting around a fire pit. Weird, interesting stuff that’s great on camera.
Later, we run across a Marimba band playing at a bar. To be more clear, the 9 piece group is crammed together on a second floor landing of an unfinished cinder-block building. This country has no shortage of character.
Fuentes Georginas
Beautiful pools fed by natural hot springs. Finally some hot water! We also get a bunch of food from the local market to cook on the grill outside our bungalows. Finally some proper hamburgers! We stay overnight here and have a very relaxing evening with the pools all to ourselves. We need the rest to prepare for our next adventure, the tackling of Volcan Santiaguito.
Until next time-
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
filmakers without borders
So I'm sure you're all dying to hear about our high speed car chase and the machine guns so better late than never and better alive than dead. Where do we start?
We were in Mexico. We swam in the pacific, filmed our first shots, had our car searched in three places, and were chased by dogs. At borders, dogs and men behave differently than they do elsewhere.
The border of Mexico and Guatemala is seperated by a river and a bridge and is a magical place called Guatmex. Guatmex has a lot of employees. Maybe 200. They all want to help you cross the border and practically lay down in front of your car to get you to stop. All of them have very nice badges that look like press passes and are lamenated. They're insistant, persistant, and they like Pearl Jam. If you've ever left your car door open for five minutes and every fly in the vacinity enters you might have a slight understanding of what these guys are like.
We finally acquiesed to one man's english pleading to let him help us get through this experience. I am used to people working for tips in such situations so I consented to accepting his help. First, we went to the Mexican passport office and had all three of our passports stamped with only myself and this Pearl Jam lover present. We then had to cross the bridge, the geographical border, and Pearl Jam wanted to ride with us but we did not let him so he walked on the driver side. A man dressed as a sherrif that looked like Wilfred Brimley charged us 5 quetzals to cross.
The next step was much the same where me and Pearl Jam got all of our entry stamps taken care of and then began working on our car permit. I was told that this would cost 20 Quetzals a day and since we were staying 70 days this would be 1400 Quetzals or about 160 U.S. dollars. Thats about would our Mexican permit cost, so why not?
Pearl Jam wanted my passport, drivers liscence, and registration to go by himself and take care off everything for me. I'm dumb, but not stupid, so a no go there. He also wanted us to park in a gated parking lot while all this happened but we also refused. Some things that seem convienent are obiously not. Anyway, we finally get all the paper work taken care of and drive into the line of cars crossing the border. We are the only car not towing another car. A little weird. I ask why other cars are driving through on the other side and he says they're not supposed to, but I am smart enough to check with the border guard and make sure we're not in a line to sell our car in Guatemala.
So, to this point, we've been rather good at avoiding a scam; until we are supposed to pay the 1400 quetzals at the bank at the end. They only except quetzals, not pesos, and don't take credit cards. Weird. Pearl Jam says thats OK and we can follow him and his buddy 10 miles up the road and take care of it at a bank where they live. Would you do that? Would we do that? Who would do that?
The decision is we tell him we don't need his help anymore and we'll take care of it from there. He says thats not possible, he's vouched for us, and has to make sure the payment and reciept are taken care of. This ends in a ten minute argument where no matter what we say he and his friend are going to follow us on their motorbike. We have a car. We will win.
We follow them for several miles, look at the map, acess an escape plan, and let several other cars pass us to create a larger divide between us and them.
As we're driving I realize that the bill we are supposed to pay is not only not to the government, but a deposit slip to Francisco Cordobo in BanRural which is a major bank here. Not gonna do it. So, at the fork in the road they go left and we go right. Fast!
Many problems occur here. There are speed bumps taller than our car, dogs in the road, children in the road, and cars coming at us in our lane. Long story already but to make it shorter they actually catch us on their moped, pull in front of us, and stop our car. Bummer. Plus they caught up to us in the rain. We were nervous before, but now we are all shitting our pants. PJ says looks pissed. Comes up to our car and is all what the f and we're all what the f and everything is f'd.
Fortunately a cop car comes by and we stop it. These are the guys with machine guns. One police officer that must be 17 years old holding a shotgun and an older guy in fatigues that is presumably a member of the Guatemelan military with an SKS assault rifle 10 feet away. Later we'd notice that there were 3 more like him around the perimeter of our car. Not speaking good Spanish is a disadvantage here. Not speaking good english is another disadvantage. Finally after much pleading and showing the officer that what were supposed to do is obviously unjust the officer descides that we should definately pay the guy but not nessicarily what he's asking. Forgot to mention that we gave the bike riders three hundred pasos as a tip when they stopped in front of us to make everything cool.
With only pesos and no quetzals, I ask the officer if he could accompany us with these banditos to the bank, but he replies that he has two corpses in back of his truck with their throats slit open so he can not.
Fortunatly, Rafael has a U.S. one hundred dollar bill given to him by his aunt a week before for, "just in emergencies," that we negotiate our way out of this situation with. The armed coppers agree, (they probably took a cut), we all shake hands, and the deal is done.
Its now almost dark, we have to figure out how to get back on the actual road, and drive three hours to Xela over one of the craziest mountain passes I've ever been on. Could it get worse? Dogs, children, and a complete white out of fog on the road is the answer. Finally we make it, get a room, and have a drink. Fin.
john
We were in Mexico. We swam in the pacific, filmed our first shots, had our car searched in three places, and were chased by dogs. At borders, dogs and men behave differently than they do elsewhere.
The border of Mexico and Guatemala is seperated by a river and a bridge and is a magical place called Guatmex. Guatmex has a lot of employees. Maybe 200. They all want to help you cross the border and practically lay down in front of your car to get you to stop. All of them have very nice badges that look like press passes and are lamenated. They're insistant, persistant, and they like Pearl Jam. If you've ever left your car door open for five minutes and every fly in the vacinity enters you might have a slight understanding of what these guys are like.
We finally acquiesed to one man's english pleading to let him help us get through this experience. I am used to people working for tips in such situations so I consented to accepting his help. First, we went to the Mexican passport office and had all three of our passports stamped with only myself and this Pearl Jam lover present. We then had to cross the bridge, the geographical border, and Pearl Jam wanted to ride with us but we did not let him so he walked on the driver side. A man dressed as a sherrif that looked like Wilfred Brimley charged us 5 quetzals to cross.
The next step was much the same where me and Pearl Jam got all of our entry stamps taken care of and then began working on our car permit. I was told that this would cost 20 Quetzals a day and since we were staying 70 days this would be 1400 Quetzals or about 160 U.S. dollars. Thats about would our Mexican permit cost, so why not?
Pearl Jam wanted my passport, drivers liscence, and registration to go by himself and take care off everything for me. I'm dumb, but not stupid, so a no go there. He also wanted us to park in a gated parking lot while all this happened but we also refused. Some things that seem convienent are obiously not. Anyway, we finally get all the paper work taken care of and drive into the line of cars crossing the border. We are the only car not towing another car. A little weird. I ask why other cars are driving through on the other side and he says they're not supposed to, but I am smart enough to check with the border guard and make sure we're not in a line to sell our car in Guatemala.
So, to this point, we've been rather good at avoiding a scam; until we are supposed to pay the 1400 quetzals at the bank at the end. They only except quetzals, not pesos, and don't take credit cards. Weird. Pearl Jam says thats OK and we can follow him and his buddy 10 miles up the road and take care of it at a bank where they live. Would you do that? Would we do that? Who would do that?
The decision is we tell him we don't need his help anymore and we'll take care of it from there. He says thats not possible, he's vouched for us, and has to make sure the payment and reciept are taken care of. This ends in a ten minute argument where no matter what we say he and his friend are going to follow us on their motorbike. We have a car. We will win.
We follow them for several miles, look at the map, acess an escape plan, and let several other cars pass us to create a larger divide between us and them.
As we're driving I realize that the bill we are supposed to pay is not only not to the government, but a deposit slip to Francisco Cordobo in BanRural which is a major bank here. Not gonna do it. So, at the fork in the road they go left and we go right. Fast!
Many problems occur here. There are speed bumps taller than our car, dogs in the road, children in the road, and cars coming at us in our lane. Long story already but to make it shorter they actually catch us on their moped, pull in front of us, and stop our car. Bummer. Plus they caught up to us in the rain. We were nervous before, but now we are all shitting our pants. PJ says looks pissed. Comes up to our car and is all what the f and we're all what the f and everything is f'd.
Fortunately a cop car comes by and we stop it. These are the guys with machine guns. One police officer that must be 17 years old holding a shotgun and an older guy in fatigues that is presumably a member of the Guatemelan military with an SKS assault rifle 10 feet away. Later we'd notice that there were 3 more like him around the perimeter of our car. Not speaking good Spanish is a disadvantage here. Not speaking good english is another disadvantage. Finally after much pleading and showing the officer that what were supposed to do is obviously unjust the officer descides that we should definately pay the guy but not nessicarily what he's asking. Forgot to mention that we gave the bike riders three hundred pasos as a tip when they stopped in front of us to make everything cool.
With only pesos and no quetzals, I ask the officer if he could accompany us with these banditos to the bank, but he replies that he has two corpses in back of his truck with their throats slit open so he can not.
Fortunatly, Rafael has a U.S. one hundred dollar bill given to him by his aunt a week before for, "just in emergencies," that we negotiate our way out of this situation with. The armed coppers agree, (they probably took a cut), we all shake hands, and the deal is done.
Its now almost dark, we have to figure out how to get back on the actual road, and drive three hours to Xela over one of the craziest mountain passes I've ever been on. Could it get worse? Dogs, children, and a complete white out of fog on the road is the answer. Finally we make it, get a room, and have a drink. Fin.
john
i saw an albino guatemalan lady wrapped in a confederate flag
here's a grip of photos from guatemala:
GuatMex
GuatMex
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