Guest entry by my mom about her visit, part 14 of 14

DAYS 14 & 15  (last two days in Guatemala):

I wake up before any trace of sunrise. Is it morning? 4:30 am. Travel has messed up my night-owl tendencies. Every couple of minutes, lightning bursts silently between the two volcanos on the other side of Lake Atitlán. I wonder if a storm will move toward us and whip up the lake, maybe prevent boats from shuttling people to Panajachel where our day's travels need to begin. Will we get stranded here? 

The storm passes. One last time we ride the boat to Pana, where we ask a tuk-tuk driver to take us to the post office. He tells Elizabeth that it's far away and will therefore cost 15 quetzales ($2 US). We agree to the price. The post office turns out to be only a few blocks away. My assertive daughter tells the driver that he lied about the post office being far away and that he's overcharging us. He claims to have said, "It's a little far away." Illogically, he insists on the price that we agreed to. Elizabeth presses the money into his hand with a firm, "Be honest."

I mail off my final box of souvenirs (paying almost as much to ship them as to buy them), and then we board a 9:30 am shuttle van for Antigua. For three hours we read, knit, nap, gawk at the countryside, and chat with the other travelers, who've come from New Zealand and Germany and elsewhere. It's a heady feeling to be surrounded by people with such varied backgrounds and accents, all of us randomly brought together for this moment of shared experience.

12:30. Antigua. Holistico Hostal. This hostel is where we'll spend our last night in Guatemala. We unload, set up our rooms, and make our way to Kaffe Fernando for empanadas. 

What a two weeks it has been. 

 

Kaffe Fernando has a novel way to entertain its patrons.

 

The empanadas at Kaffe Fernando are the best we've found. 

This Mayan woman, Sonia, has a display in Kaffe Fernando
next to our table. Here, she demonstrates "backstrap" weaving.

Backstrap weaving.

Backstrap weaving (with backstrap).

Backstrap weaving (with cat).

This is the tablecloth I've been looking for. The weave pattern is ajichá,
which is Kacqchikel (Sonia's particular Mayan language) for pine needle.
Sonia calls me Masha, which she says is a nickname for Tomasa.

Brian gets his own room at the hostel.

The courtyard at the hostel.

A trip like this challenges my powers of description.
I try anyhow. "Beautiful. Great. Super. Amazing."
Somebody give me some new adjectives.

Our last meal.
The 2-for-1 tacos at Frida's turn into 4-for-2s.
Cheese-stretchingly yummilicious,
or as Brian says, scrumtrillescent.

I'm still wearing my friendship bracelet as I write this caption. 

There you have it, dear readers, my 14-part attempt to share the adventure of a lifetime. I sure have enjoyed writing about it. To any of you who have read all the way through to this final paragraph, you have my admiration for your persistence. Here's wishing you many adventures of your own!