IGNORANT GUATEMALAN

Re criticism of OLD MAN ON A BIKE
EUGENIO writes:
As much as I would rather be under the boot of the USA instead of say Hitler's Germany, Russia or Torrquemada's Spain, I like your comments (USA bashing) because I hate the hypocrisy. Spain never pretended to be exporting "democracy" well until now that is, neither did Hitler nor Stalin. It is precisely because USA citizens are supposed to be smarter than that that they should see beyond the USAID signs and go look at the mess they have left here...

ENDLESS SEPARATIONS

view from tijax tower
HACIENDA TIJAX, RIO DULCE, GUATEMALA: FEBRUARY 10
A 75th birthday is a biggy. I leave tomorrow for Antigua, first capital of Guatemala. Monica and Eugenio have offered a haven towards which I rode. Tonight we dine at the resort en famille. Eugenio's daughter has baked a birthday cake. Rather than a celebration, I suffer the sadness of one more parting. Such is this journey, seemingly endless separations, because of my age, probably final.
In the TIJAX BLOG, Eugenio claims that I have been an inspiration.
If so, I am humbled.
Eugenio is my inspiration.
Tijax demanded vision and is an ongoing achievement.

MAN AT WORK

HACIENDA TIJAX, RIO DULCE, GUATEMALA:
FEBRUARY 10
I am almost up to date with my writing. The bar at Hacienda Tijax is a good studio.

WHITE GUESTS ONLY

HACIENDA TIJAX, RIO DULCE, GUATEMALA:
FEBRUARY 10
I can't connect to the internet on this machine up at the house. I am writing at the resort bar. Odd guests turn up looking for a room - or a nest.

KIDDIES PARADISE

HACIENDA TIJAX, RIO DULCE: FEBRUARY 8
I am in Kiddie's Paradise. I have been driving Eugenio's crawler this morning. The crawler is yellow, as are the butterflies and the blossoms and the breasts of the small birds flitting amongst the red hybiscus.

DON'T SMOKE IN SCHOOL

CASA GUATEMALA, RIO DULCE, GUATEMALA:
FEBRUARY 7
Volunteerrs at the orphanage contribute US$180. This is a one-off payment. They can stay as long as they wish and return as often as they wish. Their food is free and they occupy the volunteers' house. OK, shack.
Why has no volunteer bothered to build a little comfort into the place?
Work is over for the day. Two volunteers sit on the small terrace. A third lolls in a hammock. They shouldn't smoke.
They absolutely should not smoke where children see them.
They should be particularly careful as to what they smoke...
Yes, I know. I am carping again.
I chat briefly with an elderly worker on the farm. The land is poor. Rains leach all goodness out of the soil.
A couple of kids hoe beans. They should hoe natural fertiliser into the soil. Chicken shit, pig shit, kitchen compost.
A boy leans against a wall to ease the weight of fresh sheets from his shoulders. I carry the laundry for him to the boys' dormitory. The sheets are required upstairs. I barely manage the climb and am twice the size of the boy.

FOOTBALL OR WITCHES

CASA GUATEMALA, RIO DULCE, GUATEMALA:
FEBRUARY 7
Break time, and I sit on a low stone wall. Boys play football. Girls gather in groups and giggle. Two girls lead each other to me by the hair - play pulling rather than painful pulling. Which of them is the most vicious. The smaller of the two. She is a witch. A real witch? Yes, yes, a real witch...the two colapse with laughter.
A smaller girl sits on my lap while I am interogated by the real witch and her friend. A small boy squats behind me and rests his chin on my shoulder.
A young woman with blond blond hair sits on the same wall and is happy for small girls to use her as a climbing frame.
Happiness appears abundant.
So does dedication.
Staff are volunteers. Of the teachers, ten are Guatemalan, four are Spanish.
Other volunteers build or work on the orphanage farm. Two are Israeli. The blond blond is Finish. An eighteen-year-old of Danish and Asian Indian parentage conducts me on a tour. The farm has excellent pigs. It has a non-functioning bio gas plant that requires cleanng and rows of non functioning hydroponics beds built recently by volunteers from the US. The farm has chickens in chicken houses, cows, grows vegetables and beans and fruit. Fish abound in the river.
Two hundred and fifty children are fed at the orphanage each day. This is an achievement. Well done, Dona Angie.
Many of the children are not true orphans. Their parents are unable to care for them. The orphanage clothes and educates them. Well done, Dona Angie.
A miniscule few from the orphanage go to University. One is studying medicine, another is an economist. A minuscule few is way better than none.
Well done, Dona Angie.

JACK, JILL AND ANNIE ARE UNSUITABLE

CASA GUATEMALA, RIO DULCE: FEBRUARY 7
Casa Guatemala is an orphanage. Dona Angie founded the orphanage. She owns the Backpackers Hotel on the river bank south of the road bridge. The hotel supports the orphanage. So do charitable donations. Local people complain that confusion or lack of clarity exists in the twin finances. Dona Angie is Honduran.
A launch delivers me from the hotel to the orphanage ($10).
I sit in a classroom built out over the river. The teacher is female, young, Spanish, charming, sincere, dedicated. Her students range from 12 to 15. They are remarkably well behaved. They are reading children's book translated from North American English. Characters in the books have Anglo names: Jack, Jill, Annie, Mollie, Robert.
Is this important?
Yes.
The message is clear:
Books are foreign.
Education is foreign.
Children with Maya names are unworthy of being characters in a book.
The teacher agrees. She shows me the library. Books in English fill the shelves.
The books are donations. The donors should consider what they give. Guatemala has its own writers. Guatemala has publishers and printers.
Donors, please. Guatemalan books for Guatemalan orphans...

BRIDGE OF DELIGHTS

HACIENDA TIJAX, GUATEMALA: FEBRUARY 7
Eugenio leads me on a hike this morning. 2.5 Ks of graveled paths and cable bridges thread the jungle. One bridge is 75 meters in length. It spans a ravine. Look down though tree tops to ferns and water and spits of reflected sunlight.
Stay at the resort and walk the trails in the company of knowledgeable local guides.
A woman from the US complained on Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree forum that Eugenio charges for access to the jungle and mangrove. Perhaps she believes that paths and cable bridges and stone towers are created and maintained by God. Or is she one of those backpackers from the First World who consider the Third World their playground and resent having to contribute more than a minimum per diem? The kind of tourist who proudly boasts of having beaten down the price of a piece of woven cloth without caring that hunger in the weaver's family is the tourist's bludgeon? Why am I so cross this morning...?
I am writing at a table on the front terrace. Forest protects us from the town and the resort. Cows and the resort horses graze the paddocks. Cloud softens the distant mountains. Two yellow butterfly chase each other through the shrubs. A small yellow-breasted bird darts between the hibiscus. Yesterday we saw blue morpheus in the jungle, listened to
birds, admired wild orchids, sniffed crushed leaves from the allspice tree, hunted for vanilla pods. Perhaps I am envious of Eugenio's achievements.

HOW DANGEROUS IS DANGEROUS?

USHUAIA: SUNDAY, JULY 29
I’ve been writing much of the day, answering mail, Blogging, posting a column. In between times I study the guidebooks. I had a route planned through Brazil. Today a Brazilian messaged me warning that the further north the more dangerous Brazil becomes. How dangerous is dangerous? And is danger more apparent and threatening to a Brazilian. Brazilians read the newspapers, watch news on TV: every violent incident registers.
I set out on my journey south from Veracruz, Mexico, last year. Mexicans in Veracruz warned of dangers in riding across Mexico. I met only with hospitality.
Friends home in England and in the US warned that I was crazy to ride across Colombia. Of all the countries through which I rode, in Colombia I felt most secure.
However, I am a realist. I know that, in travelling, I touch only the surface. On message boards, I read questions on safety from tourists intending to travel through Guatemala. Other travellers answer that Guatemala is safe, a veritable Paradise. Guatemala is the Hispanic American country with which I am most familiar. Guatemala is extremely dangerous for Guatemalans. Police reported 2200 armed assaults on urban busses in the capital during in the first five months of 2006. I have friends who have been kidnapped, who have been held up in their own houses by gunmen, who have been robbed by armed men at midday in the city centre. As for the gentle Maya, be suspected of thieving and beware your fellow villagers. The Maya douse thieves with gasoline and strike a light.