this "chiste" of a weekend

while most of the volunteers in our group thought our plan to visit Pacaya (an active volcano) and Monte Rico (a black sand beach) in one weekend was a bit too much, three friends and i decided to go for it.

it took us four buses to get to our first destination: Pacaya. the buses in Guatemala are something to behold. truly. the first thing you notice is the decor. neon decals, a plastered nickname on one of the windshields, fringe, some religious item (be it quote or chipped, plastic saint), and a hard working ayundante hanging out the open door calling out this monstrosity's destination. then there's the music, be it a synthesizer solo, YMCA, a Spanish version of "My Heart Will Go On," Bob Marley, one of the current top 5 radio hits (more than once), and always Shakira. but the most fascinating aspect of the Guatemalan bus is the amount of people that are able to cram into one of these beasts. these buses typically have slightly longer seats, which means three people are squinged together on each side, and one person is standing in the 10-inch-wide aisle. and somehow... SOMEHOW... when you notice that regardless of the winding road, no one is shifting in this sardine can, the ayudante manages to squeeze past everyone, sometimes practically crawling over seats, to collect bus fares. the ceiling racks running along either side of the buses are overflowing with bags from the mercados. occasionally you'll see a bird or chicken in someone's lap. occasionally you will have to hold someone's small child while a family rearranges itself because a passenger is getting off. there are always people sleeping, hunched over onto the seat in front of them, or dozing off near your shoulder. during this trip, one friend got a corn cob to the head from a distracted baby held in the aisle beside him. during this trip, another friend stood in the aisle balancing his swollen backpack on one shoulder while hanging on to the rack with his free hand.

but four buses later, we're standing at the foot of this active volcano and the sun is slowly setting. the Guatemala volunteer who works on the volcano will guide us on our trek (peacecorps can be a bit overprotective sometimes). we hike up with a weekend's worth of stuff upon our backs (the guys also carrying heavy tent equipment). it's a hefty incline, the rain is occasionally dripping, i'm periodically peeling off layers, the darkness comes. i'm using a crank flashlight that won't stay strong unless i'm cranking it (therefore we have a constant whirrr sound at the back of our human caravan). on the last leg of this 2 hour hike, we hit gravel that shifts and tumbles beneath our feet. before we can see anything, we feel the heat from the lava as the wind picks up. we can hear the masses of tourists. we reach the top and it's like nothing i've ever seen. it's as if the earth is just being born or is on its last leg. the contrast of the high-altitude frigid wind and the intensely hot lava is fitting. we're in complete darkness now, except for the patches of glowing orange lava. we lay a blanket out at the edge of one patch and watch it slowly flow, turning a bush to flames as the orange brushes past. we enjoy a picnic of beans, tortillas, and hershey kisses on the volcano as the tourists take their last pictures and start their descent. we are finally left alone on our lava-side blanket, clouds rolling in, and the 5 of us are surrounded by nothing but blackness, an eerie mist, a beautiful silence, and a garden of lava. we finally stumble back down in the misty blackness, realizing at the bottom that we now have a 3 mile stumble through the town below to get to this volunteer's house (where we'll be sleeping on the cement floor this evening). i call it a stumble because the first part of this journey is down a road that is a piles of rocks. literally. once in town we have to brave it through a gang of barking angry dogs, but we manage. it's 1am when we arrive at the house, i realize i did a number on my left ankle, and we crash.
at 5am we're up, packing in the dark, my ankle screaming at me, and ready to catch yet another bus. we're headed to Esquintla, where we'll be quickly escorted onto a bus for Taxisco. then we're on bus #3 by sunrise, well on our way to the lanchas (boats) that will take us to our final destination.

Monte Rico.
after walking through town to the beach, we hike along the shoreline. i'm overjoyed to see my Pacific Ocean again. we find a good spot to relax and do just that. hanging in hammocks, eating, drinking flavored mojitos, reading, dozing, and occasionally alternating between sand and ocean. it's hot. "Belize" hot. the sky's bluer than blue and it's a beautiful day.
but then we come to find out that this weekend Gallo (the big Guatemalan beer company) is having a conference and has basically reserved every reasonably priced room on the beach for their hordes of drunken employees. ugh. luckily, the bartender at our hang-out spot invites us to stay on their premises, free of charge. he shows us where we can set up our tent- a patch of black sand in their outdoor patio area, beside a lounge of pillows and rugs. amazingly ridiculous. lucky perfection.
after setting up, we all take a long moonlit walk down the beach and find a secluded pool in what appears to be an abandoned, off-season resort. i find myself floating in a saltwater infinity pool with an ocean view, a palm tree centerpiece, the moon and clouds overhead, away from the noise of the crowds. spectacular.
walking back to our "hotel," we pass the Gallo bash, the male drunken masses cheering on bikini-clad dancers. but back at "home" next door, we find jazz music.
i wake at sunrise for a session of yoga at the edge of the Pacific. we swing in hammocks while waiting for our omelet breakfasts.
bus after bus after bus... we arrive back in Antigua.
there's a marching band competition at the center, and we excitedly arrive in time to cheer on our little town of Santa Lucia. then it's time for shared appreciation of this fantastical weekend over a double hookah session and amazing falafel.