Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The Whirlwind Riders

Emma is from England
David and Ann have turned into our family away from home.  He´s from Quebec and she is from Belgium.
The top of the jump
Kayaks are cheap and easy.  They can get you to a big cliff jump into the lake.
MAXIMON--the god of drinking and smoking.
Maximon and the Whirlind Riders--This is the fruition of an epic search to visit this deity.  He is kept in someone´s house and is constantly moved around and you must scavange the city asking many people to track him down.  
Not sure what was going on, there was some very erie chanting coming from this room full of Mayans.
Our search for Maximon led us first to a Mayan Catholic church where they dress the statues with handmade clothes every month.
The sun here is a bit much and tank needed a little more help than just sunscreen to keep from melting . So after speaking with the locals they told us that  ALL hats are made in Santiago, so we made our way down the road and around the volcano and found the market . Alas, here he is no longer tank, but 
Don Rubio !
Maximon, finding him became a large part of our Santiago market mission.
.....this little piggie went to the market .
The road to santiago is full of bumps and crashes
The triumphant return.
Don Rubio with his new hat and blanket.  Well earned.
Our first mission as a gang was to find my sunburn a hat.  It turned into a full-on experience.
Red River Bill immediately became part of the gang.
You can always trust a man in camo at the grill.
If I could only explain the BBQ that happens on Sundays here.
Time to reintroduce Oly, now dubbed Red River Bill.  He is the fresh inspiration from the very beginning of this blog.  He visited the canyon when I lived in Arizona.  He´s from Australia and has been riding a BMW from Oregon.  We were going to meet up with him in Mexico but passed him.  He just caught up with us. 
caution the hills are a bit steep !
A nice roots kitchen.
Angela sat in for the end of the reading, so did the cat.
Young Wild West and the Whirlwind Riders, written in 1903.   This is the name of the old western book we picked up and found it so good that we read it out loud between a group of us.  
These are not the pictures you´ll find in the souvenier shops.
At the exhibition, there was an art class held for the kids.  What we helped that, and once they got antsy, the handstands came out.  It turned into a riot.
Lake Atitlan
These paintings are the originals that were showcased at Canal Cultural.  In 1978, the Guatemalan government wanted to build a hydroelectric dam, funded by the World Bank.  To do this, they had to relocate the native Mayan people from the fertile valleys to the harsh highlands.  They forced them out and up into the mountains where they were enslaved, raped, and murdered by paramilitary and military forces.  It is said that up to 5,000 were killed between 1980 and 82.  This is called the Rio Negro Massacre.  Only a few escaped. 
Canal Cultural.  These guys are progressive artists and screenprinters in San Pedro that hold art classes for the youth so that they can learn the techniques of art, but also they´re trying to allow room for full expression instead of just teaching them to paint pretty things for tourists.
Jaun Marcos, our spanish teacher.  He walked to Phoenix, AZ because when he tried to do it legally, they simply said, ´no´.
helping fix others motorbikes = a true knuckle buster
The depths of the spanish headache--making flashcards.
Manuelito, he´s all over the place, but with style.
Its always good to see friends from home.  It means a lot. 
Our good friend from Tennessee, Bill McGowan stopped in for a visit for his birthday.  He has been in Antigua, Guatemala running a bookstore.  We´ll see him again if we ever leave here.
Mike and I´s entrance to our Spanish classes.  The entrance to a headache.
We´ve been at the same hotel for the entire stay.  This little one quickly became my best friend here.  When I was changing the bike´s oil, she came up and threw her arm as far around my shoulders as she could reach and just hung out. 
The town of San Pedro on a mountain and is filled with tiny streets and even smaller alleyways.  They are all filled with life.